NHL 53

Although he hadn’t made any firm decision yet, Joeon gave a positive answer for now, as he couldn’t bring himself to disappoint the other party at this point.

Perhaps because she had finished all the questions she needed to ask, Bonnie, feeling relieved, shared a brief story about her own past experience, saying she had once been in a similar situation to Joeon.

“I also lived in Ontario originally and moved a few years ago. Of course, it was a big deal. I had to move, sell my car, and so on… But I’ve never regretted it once. Our company offers some of the best benefits in the industry, and the cost of living here is much lower.”

“I see.”

“Is there anything else you’d like to ask?”

Since he had already heard explanations for most of the things he was curious about from Bonnie, Joeon declined, saying he was fine.

“Then, have a good night.”

“You too, Bonnie. Thank you for your time.”

The video conference screen turned off, and Joeon sat motionless in the quiet room. The first thing that came to Joeon was a sense of relief that, regardless of the outcome, he had safely gotten through another one.

As he turned his head slightly, he saw the outside, which was completely pitch black. Lowering the lighting in the room made him feel as if he had been cast into a vacuum of space. It was a feeling he hadn’t had in a long time. He identified it as loneliness.

On the last day of a certain year, young Joeon had been left home alone, just like any other day. Instead of his parents, who were away for work, only the broadcast program relaying the lively festival scene kept Joeon company.

Young Joeon, having come out to the living room and sitting on the carpeted floor instead of the stiff, cold leather sofa, listened to the singers’ songs ringing through the darkened house while huddled under a blanket. He had his own room, but he hated being in there because it felt like being trapped in a prison.

At the host’s announcement that the time had arrived, the citizens filling the streets shouted along with the decreasing numbers on the electric signboard, and soon, a low and heavy bell sound rang out amidst the loud fireworks.

People on the screen were cheering noisily, but Joeon’s house was very silent. When he pressed the mute button, he couldn’t hear a thing.

In the landscape visible outside the window, there were only small, reddish traces of light left, remnants of the fact that people were living somewhere out there.

However, in Joeon’s eyes, he could only see the child reflected in the windowpane. A helpless, weak, and abandoned child who couldn’t do anything on his own and received no one’s attention.

Around that time, he had begun to realize that the affection a person usually receives first upon being born had not been permitted for him.

He was still sitting there, in the same spot. Over the span of 15 years, only his frame had grown, but his eyes still held that same hollow look as back then.

Regrettably, it wasn’t even his own will to say goodbye to his past, when he had craved the affection of his parents, for whom a career was the top priority in life. Joeon’s parents hadn’t even permitted him that. They had simply left Joeon thoroughly abandoned in a strange land.

But surely, he wasn’t the only such person in the world. Many people definitely live life being turned away. By parents, by family, by blood.

It’s just that a selfish question arises: Why did it have to be me?

If it hadn’t been just me, I could have lived while turning a blind eye to the fact that such misfortune exists in the world. Now that this had become his reality, he could no longer deny it or treat it as something that didn’t exist. That was how Joeon forcibly accepted that he was an unfortunate child.

However, strangely enough, some people envied the unfortunate life of studying abroad—being chased out because he had nowhere else to go after his parents decided on a divorce and chose different paths.

‘Must be nice. You’re completely free.’

‘Look at you flaunting your family’s money. Do you think you’ll even adapt well there?’

Joeon had never been restrained in the first place, and he didn’t become free just because he left to study abroad. He had never flaunted anything. That’s right. He hadn’t even adapted properly.

No matter where he lived, he was always trapped in loneliness. This year was the first time that his reflection in the windowpane, seen amidst the cheers celebrating the new year, didn’t look lonely.

The moment he realized that fact, Joeon felt that the thing he had been ignoring all this time was suddenly growing in volume. He had thought the environment that relentlessly drove him away was the end, but that was a misunderstanding. As long as one is alive, pain continues. It’s just that people eventually become dull to stimulation, so he had just become accustomed to the loneliness within the silence. And he would likely continue to be that way in the future.

Holding his breath, Joeon moved his mouse and turned on a game broadcast to drive away that thing that was always ready to devour him. He propped up his pillows, leaned his back against them, pulled the blanket up over himself, and curled up. People on the screen cheered loudly.

🏒🥅

Before the puck drop, the players gathering in the locker room to prepare for the ice checked their skates and pads. Dylan, who was checking his skate blades, was among them. When he scraped the tip of his finger against the newly replaced blade, he could feel the smooth, sharply ground edge.

Since he played an average of about 20 minutes every game and his skating style was very rough, he had to sharpen his blades frequently, and the resulting wear on the durability was also fast. Perhaps it was because the skate blades had been sharpened today, but Dylan McClain’s movements and resolve were different from usual.

The winning percentage of the last four away games was 50%. They won the first two, but lost the next two. Once, they went to overtime but couldn’t determine a winner, so they went to a shootout, going until the fifth round, but they lost.

He wasn’t the only player who hadn’t scored a goal, but Dylan was included among them. Being in a one-on-one situation with the goaltender during a game is the most powerful scoring opportunity. Come to think of it, the same goes for a shootout, and wasting that golden opportunity was the moment he regretted most from that game. Not just the shootout, but that entire game had been a mess from start to finish.

There were two away games left. If the team goes on a losing streak, the team’s atmosphere is bound to stagnate. To avoid falling into a rut, they had to win today’s game no matter what. However, unlike his burning desire, he lacked the energy. If it weren’t for this away game, he would have held Joeon in his arms and recharged his energy with his affection.

‘Damn it, I miss him.’

As he had been for the past two weeks, the moment his thoughts reached Joeon again, his thirst grew intense. Joeon acted indifferent and prim in front of Dylan, but whenever Joeon displayed a concentration so intense it felt like he was being sucked into something, Dylan would often discover a surprising level of maturity behind his great youthful appearance. He was dying of curiosity about what was seated inside that shell.

However, the other party was not someone who easily revealed his inner thoughts. No matter how hard he tried, a wall that couldn’t be seen existed. Just when he thought he had made headway, he had to take a step back because of the game.

But once this away game was over, it would be a series of home games for a while. Then, he planned to make up various excuses to keep him from going home and induce him to commute from his place. Since Dylan’s house was much closer to the company, it would be fully possible if he tempted him with delicious food and a place to sleep. Then, he planned to have Joeon pick out the suits he would wear to every game, too.

Even today, while tying his tie to get ready to head to the arena from his hotel room, he almost soiled his pants because he remembered having sex with Joeon. The touch of his soft buttocks and his thighs that felt like they would melt kept coming to mind, so he couldn’t leave for work without having a go by hand.

He wanted to smell Joeon’s skin, bite him, and suck on his flesh to make him moan. He missed the expression he made at those times, too. Even the way he looked up with a strained, yearning gaze, as if he hated it, while frowning with one eye. Whenever Joeon showed signs of enduring like that, Dylan often felt an impulse to make him cry.