NHL 66

“Oh, all right, my love. Let’s go get some rest. We’re getting old, after all. My body can’t take it anymore when we’re on a plane for more than five hours.”

His parents hurriedly gathered their coats like amateur detectives who had just been caught in the act. Dylan hugged them one by one as he saw them out.

“Thank you for your concern. My body and mind are both in top condition, so don’t worry.”

“I’m proud of you, Dylan.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“I love you, son.”

“I love you too, Dad.”

Dylan followed them from the door to the elevator, then to the lobby, and even all the way to the driveway of the hotel next door. Having returned from a long send-off that felt like a stroll, he lay down in bed with his heart brimming to the brim with emotion.

The next day, Dylan returned home along with news articles about how his division had won the All-Star event—the highlight of the festivities—and that they would be splitting a million dollars in prize money.

The All-Star break was short, and for Dylan, who had to fly to another region to participate in the events, it wasn’t even a time he could call a vacation. Enjoying a single evening dinner party at their mansion in King City with his family was all he had done.

Dylan spent the whole afternoon playing fetch with his dog, Mac, and throwing frisbees, with Lucas joining in for some ball games. During the time he spent with his family, he focused entirely on being there, leaving no room for other thoughts to slip in.

However, when he returned home, he once again acutely realized the void filling the darkened house. He thought of his parents and his sister’s couple, who had been busy all through dinner trying to fish for information on whether he was seeing anyone.

‘My friend’s younger sibling says they’re a huge fan of yours.’

Or things like,

‘A nurse who recently joined our hospital said they learned how to play hockey in the past. Though they changed their career path to nursing when they went to college. They say they’re still a huge hockey fan. They even have a high level of understanding regarding the profession of a professional hockey player.’

He understood his family’s sentiment of wanting him to settle down and start a family soon, but Dylan had no interest in their wishes. The more he heard such talk, the more he was reminded of the one person who had callously abandoned him and turned away.

It was a bit absurd, but he also felt wronged. There were so many people in the world interested in him, so why on earth?

“I can’t understand it.”

Was he unappealing? That probably wasn’t it.

Was he not devoted to his partner while they were together? He was.

Then, was he bad at sex? Not at all!

‘Then why did Joeon….’

Dylan belatedly realized one possibility. Joeon, who said Dylan was the first man he had ever been with. So, here in the 21st century, in this country where even same-sex marriage is legal, he wondered if the fact that he was a man had been the issue for Joeon. The reason he had pushed him away and kept his distance must have been because of that. If not that, there were no other possibilities left.

Dylan sat slumped in Joeon’s armchair, clutching his head. Even knowing the cause didn’t give him a solution. He couldn’t just become a woman now. And he didn’t have any other identity that would require him to do so.

In the darkened house with the lights dimmed, Dylan sat alone with his chin in his hand, thinking of Joeon. The peaceful times when nothing much happened, and those short, cherished memories.

He missed Joeon terribly.

He couldn’t understand why he made his heart ache so much. When he looked at it, they were just people who had met for a little while. It was a casual relationship without any oaths or promises.

A relationship that was ‘lost because it couldn’t be done in advance.’

The bed he always used alone felt particularly cavernous tonight.

He couldn’t fall asleep.

🏒🥅

After the short break ended, the Polar Bears team members boarded a jet for their upcoming road trip. Today’s flight was scheduled to head toward the Southeast.

Jackson, who was injured but accompanying the team on this schedule, sat next to Dylan and nudged his arm. Dylan, who had been staring out the window with a dazed expression, came to his senses a beat late.

“Brother, what are you thinking about so hard? Did your stock investment tank or something?”

“Ah, stocks. Don’t even bring that up.”

It was such a severe bear market that it was safe to say no one was making money right now. Dylan pushed aside thoughts of the stock market, which he hadn’t even thought about in the past few months, and shook his head.

“Then what is it? A girl?”

Dylan didn’t answer.

“Mate. You get over a girl with another girl. Should I introduce you to someone? I know some models, and they are real beauties, too.”

“Forget it.”

“Oh, Julie! Hi? Are you flying with us today?”

Jackson, who had been clinging to Dylan and being a nuisance, raised his hand to greet someone as if nothing had happened. It was a flight attendant dressed in a neat uniform. Julie had flown with the team before, so she and Jackson had a nodding acquaintance, and she continued some friendly small talk with him.

“Jackson, it’s been a while. Yes. Today, we’re going to South Carolina together. Anyway, how are you feeling? I heard you were injured during a game last time.”

“Oh, I’m totally fine. Thanks for asking.”

Sensing the gaze of Julie, who was looking back and forth between Jackson and Dylan sitting next to him, Jackson nudged Dylan and changed the subject.

“This is Dylan, you know him, right? Last time, he wasn’t in the lineup, so he couldn’t fly with us.”

“Of course! Of course, I know him! Nice to meet you, Dylan. You’re much more handsome in person. I flew to Las Vegas during the All-Star break! I couldn’t get a ticket, so I couldn’t watch the game and just came back.”

Suddenly, Julie’s eyes widened to twice their size, and her speech accelerated threefold. It was a clear sign of interest. Or perhaps excitement.

Since there were fans who worshipped Dylan like an idol, he assumed Julie was also just one of those hockey fans.

“I see. Nice to meet you, Julie.”

“It’s an honor.”

Perhaps because they weren’t in a situation to have a long conversation as they were about to prepare for takeoff, Julie glanced around to see if anyone was watching and whispered quietly.

“Would it be possible to take just one photo together later?”

Dylan shrugged his shoulders and said, “Sure.” Taking a photo wasn’t anything difficult.

“Oh, thank you! Then please stop by the galley later.”

By the time the plane had taken off and the captain’s welcome message came on, Dylan noticed the seatbelt sign was off and stood up. It was because Julie was signaling from behind the galley with her eyes, without saying a word.

“A selfie is enough. Is it okay if I post it on Star-gram?”

“Yeah. Whatever you want.”

Dylan took a photo with her with a mechanical attitude. Because the space was cramped, he had to bend his knees, so the photo looked quite intimate.

“Thank you so, so much. Is there anything you’d like to have?”

“I’m good.”

Dylan declined and returned to his seat. Suddenly, the frustration he had been holding in exploded.

Why, Joeon…!

His mood soured rapidly.

An explosive impulse stemming from an unfilled sense of satisfaction and discomfort. Dylan relieved what people called ‘stress’ in a way different from others.

[Today’s Three Stars go to Dylan McClain, who recorded two goals and one assist. The interview is ready, so please stay tuned.]

Caught on his way to the locker room after greeting the goalie following the end of the game, Dylan had a short interview with a reporter.

It was a day where they had played such an overwhelming game that it felt like they were trampling the home team even though it was an away game, and having played for a long time—a little over 30 minutes of the 60-minute game—he was drenched in sweat from head to toe. His excitement had reached the top of his head.

“You scored two goals and recorded one assist today. Congratulations. How do you see today’s game?”

Dylan caught his breath and slowly wiped his forehead with his gloved hand. In the reporter’s eyes, the drops of sweat forming at the tips of his wet hair falling in a drip looked like slow motion.

“Our team’s chemistry was good from the first period, and our movements matched up well, so I think it led to goals smoothly.”

“You won the All-Star shooting competition. Maybe that’s why your puck control felt more precise today.”