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It was great in a way, it was. He had to look at the bright side of things as his mom always told him. Not many players made it past the WHL, so he should be grateful for where he is now, but he can't help but feel like complete shit still. He’s been up and down from the NHL to the AHL and the constant back and forth doesn't seem to be stopping anytime soon. Matt has always been proud of his confidence both on and off the ice, never not resilient, but as of late, it's been faltering lately. He could not help but shake the feeling of being small, surprising for his large stature, and inadequate to both his teams. His skills felt lackluster, and his doubts which he normally kept to on the ice, came home with him.
His crappy mood mirrored when he left the ice, even when he was with Connor. He sulked and kept to himself, slumping his shoulders to make himself smaller, less noticeable. Connor noticed it all though. Matt took note of every movement or sigh that he made in his head. He was beginning to miss his Matt. The lighthearted Matt that would always try to make him smile or was always the most cocky motherfucker he had ever met. That Matt was nowhere to be found though. It was replaced by this empty shell of him. He partly knew what was going on and what was causing Matt to act like this. Connor’s patience was beginning to fray. He didn’t want hockey to consume his entire being like this, to let the constant unattainable ideals that the media had for him get to his head.
His mood lifted, if only temporarily when he got pulled back up to the Rangers. Connor was at their home in Chicago, watching the game. The game was going well for the Rangers, until the 3rd period. Connor was mostly looking at his phone, occasionally glancing up when he heard his boyfriend's name. He perked his head up to look at the TV when he heard the announcers getting louder, saying Matt’s name, and the cameras focusing in on him. It felt like it happened in slow motion, Matt going to board one of the Dallas players, but his elbow flew to the other’s head, slamming him into the boards twice as hard and he fell to the ground. Connor’s eyes widened, knowing that was going to get him a hefty call. He waited to see what the refs would say.
In that game, Matt Rempe ended up with a 5-minute elbowing misconduct, causing him to get ejected, which is not bad itself, but to top it off, it was later decided he would be suspended for eight games. It was not going to be fun when he got back from Dallas. When he did, Connor had never seen Matt look worse. Bags under his eyes, shoulders slouched, and the overwhelmingly large and dark cloud that was constantly following him around. Connor didn't get more than a small hug when Matt returned before he immediately went up to their room and shut the door. Connor was hurt a little, but he couldn't imagine the shit that was going through Matt’s head.
Matt was spiralling head-first into a pit of self-doubt and hatred. He would spend countless nights up on his phone, scrolling through countless Twitter posts of fans spewing bullshit and way too harsh “critiques.” Each word he read sent him deeper into his head. He felt like he was caught in between two teams, not having an official team to call his own. He didn’t know what to say when people asked him who he played for. He felt disposable. He didn’t feel like he belonged anywhere. Not even at home anymore.
It was beginning to strain his relationship with Connor. Matt withdrew further and he began speaking only when necessary. Even isolated himself from his teammates on the Wolfpack after he got sent back down after his suspension. Going to practice began to feel like torture, yet he still showed up, but only fueled by obligation instead of passion. His love for hockey was beginning to fray each day he let his thoughts consume him from the inside out.
Connor felt helpless, watching him go through this. He didn’t know what to do when Matt started trying to compensate in some way, overextending himself at home. He goes above and beyond to prove that he’s at least wanted and needed somewhere. That he’s somewhat still useful. He doesn't know why he even feels the need to prove himself to Connor in the first place now. Matt was desperately trying to prove his worth to him. To make him seem not as dispensable to Connor as he is to his teams.
Matt isn’t usually someone who expresses his sadness and feelings out loud to everyone, so he tries to bottle it up as much as he can, and yet right now, it’s leaking out fast.
Connor was out at practice today, so Matt was left to his devices. He felt like a lonely puppy waiting for its owner to get home as he counted down the hours till Connor would come through the door again. He felt lazy, waking up so much later after Connor. He hasn’t gotten up to do anything. He needed to make himself feel productive, he thought as he pushed himself out of bed.
The silence felt overwhelming, the only sound being the light hum of the fridge and the floorboard creaking as he paced around the apartment. Matt felt on edge, restless even, so he tried to look for something to do. As he was walking over to the laundry room, Matt felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He stops in his path, reaches into his pyjama pant pocket and pulls his phone out. Looking down, he sees it's his mom calling him.
He considers letting it go to voicemail for a moment, but the thought of pushing off this inevitable call with his mom felt antagonizing for him. He might as well get it over with now. They deserved better than him not answering anyway. Holding his eyes for a second, he breathes out as he taps the answer button on his screen, quickly putting it up to his ear.
“Hey, mum,” he greeted, with a lacking emotion in his tone, as he paced back to the kitchen to sit on a stool.
“Hi, Matty honey, how are you?” Her voice was warm, reminding him of home. Yet, it was filled with concern, making the tight feeling in his chest worsen.
“I’m fine,” he lied. “Just doing stuff around the house today. Dead beat from the game.”
“Oh, how did that go?” she asked him, her tone sounding almost hopeful, so she could erase the concerns she was having about her son. He didn’t know why she even asked. He knew her and his dad watched it together. They always watch his games, yet he can only seem to provide a lacklustre performance, disappointing them time and time again.
Matt swallowed the lump in his throat and he rubbed his hand across his eyes. “It was… okay,” he said as he tried to keep his voice steady, not knowing what else to say and wanting to prepare for what his mom was about to say to him.
There was a long pause on the other line, only the sounds of his mom's breathing being heard. He knew she was trying to calculate her words to say it in a way that wouldn’t make him break down completely.
“Your dad and I watched it,” she said as if she was guilty. “I don’t know what to say, sweetheart. You looked… in pain. I don’t know, Matt.”
His grip on his phone tightened even more if that was possible. “I’m just worn out, mom. It’s been a rough couple of weeks.”
“I figured, but” she began. “Honey, we're worried about you. You don’t seem to be you as of late. Is everything okay? With the team? With Connor?”
Matt’s heart began aching just at the mention of Connor. He couldn’t tell his mom about this. How this was affecting him so deeply. How it was ruining him from the inside out and how he knows it can hurt Connor too, but still can’t seem to do anything about it. He itched to tell her about it all, to just talk and talk until it all came out, but he couldn’t. He didn't want to burden them. Didn’t want to hurt them even more than the fact that they have one of the worst NHLers in the league as a son.
“Everything’s okay, Mom,” he said, practically forcing the words out of his mouth. “Connor’s been great. It’s just… you know how it is. The team’s just been… a bit tough lately.”
She signed and took a pause, before she spoke softly, “You know your dad and I are so proud of you, Matt. Always. But we know something is wrong. You can talk to us. We’re your parents and we’re here for you.”
The warmness in her voice broke something in him. The tears he had so desperately been trying to hold back were threatening to spill over. He bit down hard on his lip, attempting to keep a small semblance of composure.
“I just… I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, Mum,” he uttered, his voice cracking. “I feel like I’m losing everything. My career, both my teams, maybe even Connor.” He paused, before he rose his voice, “I’m screwing everything up!”
“Oh, Matty,” she breathed out, her voice filled with sympathy. “You’re not screwing up. You’re just going through a rough patch right now. It doesn’t mean you’ve lost anything. You’re strong, Matt. You’ve always been strong.”
“But what if I’m not?” he whispered, asking as if he couldn’t know the answer. His hand ran up and through his hair. “What if I’m not enough anymore? What if I can’t get through this?”
The weight of his words hung in the air. Finally, his mom spoke again, her voice steady. “Sweetheart, you’ve faced so many challenges before and you come out stronger every single time. This is just another one of those times. And you don’t have to go through it all by yourself. You have Connor, your friends, and us. We love you, no matter what.”
Matt’s vision blurred heavily as tears were streaming down his face, exhaustion overcoming him. “I’m just so tired, Mom,” he said. “I don’t know how much longer I can take.”
“Don’t keep carrying it by yourself, Matt,” she said. “Let someone in. Connor. Let him help you. You’re not alone.”
Fear and doubt still clung to him, but her words felt like a lifeline to him. They felt like something he could hold on to. After a few more minutes of soft conversation, Matt’s mom trying to soothe her son, they bid their goodbyes, and Matt hung up. He still felt heaviness in his chest, and he let his phone slip from his hand as he buried his face in his arms crossed on the counter. Sobs eventually wracked his body, but each one felt like a small release of the pain he had been holding in, refusing to cry out or talk about. He shifted his body off the stool, and sank to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest.
It felt like he had been sitting there crying for hours, when Connor finally walked back into their apartment, locking the door behind him. He didn’t realize Matt’s presence until after he set his bag down and took his shoes off, looking towards the kitchen. He then realized the large shaking pile of his boyfriend on the floor leaning against the cabinets. Without a word, Connor walked over to him and immediately dropped down onto his knees on the floor next to him.
Connor took Matt into his arms and held him. Matt didn’t resist or oppose the hug. For the first time in a while, Matt let himself be held, the weight of his pain finally leaking off of his shoulders slightly.
Matt let himself relax against Connor’s chest as he cried. He felt him rub soothing circles on his back.
“I’m here, Matty. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay,” Connor said gently.
Matt sniffled, his face still buried in Connor’s shirt. “Everything’s falling apart, Con. I don’t know what to do,” he cried out helplessly.
Connor pulled back to look at him and raised his hand to brush a stray tear from Matt’s cheek. “You don’t have to figure it alone or right now, babe. Talk to me. What’s been going on?”
Matt hesitated as he looked up to meet Connor’s warm gaze peering down at him. “It’s… There’s just so much. The constant back and forth, the suspension… I’m not playing how I should be. I’m letting everyone down. I don’t know where I even belong anymore,” he confessed.
Connor’s grip around him tightened. “For now, you belong here. With me. We can figure this out together, okay? I don’t want you dealing with this alone anymore.
Matt let out a shaky breath as he heard Connor’s words, allowing it to sink in. “I just don’t want to drag you into my mess. You shouldn't have to be associated with me either. I’ll only bring you down.”
Connor shook his head quickly at him. “This isn’t a mess, Matt. This is just what happens sometimes, but I told you, I’m here for you and you don't have to figure this out alone anymore. We need to find ways to help you cope with this. It's too much for you to handle. For anyone to handle all of that.”
Matt nodded back at him, and Connor smiled back, leaning in to press a kiss to Matt’s hair. “Maybe you need to take some time just for you. Get away from all the noise. What do you think?”
Matt began to gather himself to sit up on his knees so that he could look down at Connor. “Yeah, that might be a good idea. But only if you’re there with me,” Matt said, leaning down to give Connor a peck.
Connor chuckled, “Of course. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
The tension between the pair was easing, and it flowed away the more they embraced each other tighter. They kneeled in silence together for a while, letting the weight of the moment sit with them. For the first time in weeks, Matt finally felt content. He felt a small flicker of hope ignite inside of him, especially now that he knew he had Connor with him.