Chapter Text
Shane
1:45 am
When Shane finished writing the letters, he carefully placed each into its respective envelope and wrote the name of the recipient on the back with a black pen. Each letter was gently placed into his backpack along with a bottle of vodka he’d stolen from a party over the summer and the bottle of leftover painkillers from his wisdom teeth surgery last April. He emptied his pockets of his phone and wallet, not wanting anyone to be able to track him.
Everything was ready to go. He left the letter marked Mom and Dad on his desk, threw his bag onto his shoulders, and carefully slid his bedroom window open. Shane had never really been one to sneak out, so he had been worried that the noise of the window might wake his parents, but after a few seconds of waiting for voices or a sign of disturbance, it seemed the coast was clear. Shane crawled out the window and into the front yard, taking a glance back at the room he’d lived in for the last seventeen years.
There’s still time to go back in, the rational part of his brain reminded him. I don’t have to do this.
Shane shook his head to clear it. No. He wasn’t going back on this.
Grabbing his bike that he’d stashed outside of the house after school, Shane took off in the direction of the first letter’s house, the cold night air biting at his exposed face.
Hayden
2:01 am
Hayden was unfortunately still awake at that godforsaken hour. He’d stayed up talking to his girlfriend, Jackie, on the phone until she’d fallen asleep, then stayed up even later watching tv in his room. This had become a habit of his that he needed to break if he wanted to win the championship this year. It’s not like he’s the star of the team or anything, but still, he’d like to impress the scouts if he has any chance of going to the draft.
Hayden’s eyes were just beginning to close when he heard some shuffling outside his window. Fuck off, he thought, rolling over to face the opposite wall. Whatever was making that noise could fuck off and die for all he cared.
It wasn’t until about an hour later that he’d wish he’d have gotten up to check. Maybe he would’ve gotten to his best friend faster.
Shane
2:10 am
Biking away from Hayden’s house, reality was starting to set in for Shane. Now that the first of the letters had been dropped off, he had to commit. He had to follow through. If he went back now, he’d look like some attention seeking loser. He’d scare everyone for no reason and probably lose all of his friends in the process.
Somehow, though, that thought motivated him. The plan was set in motion, unfurling the way he’d imagined. His legs burned as he biked, but Shane paid no mind to it. Soon, he’d be done– done biking, done panicking, done with everything.
His next stop was his boyfriend’s– no, exboyfriend’s– apartment. Shane had broken up with Ilya only a few days prior and was still getting used to the idea. He was heartbroken, but it was for the best. Ilya deserved so much better than him. Better than the long nights of talking him through panic attacks and dealing with the days of Shane refusing to talk or crying because his clothes felt wrong.
Shane’s eyes brimmed with tears as he approached the stairwell to Ilya’s porch. Ilya was billeting with a sweet family with a few younger kids this year and he was so good with them. It had always warmed Shane’s heart to see his boyfriend playing with the children or chasing them around the park.
Fuck.
Shane had been lost in thought tripped at the top of the stairs, knocking over a potted plant with a loud crash. Frantic to not be seen, he stuck the letter in the crack of Ilya’s window and flew down the stairs, taking them two at a time.
Ilya
2:15 am
Ilya also hadn’t been sleeping when he heard the crash outside of his window. Instead of sleep, he was staring at the ceiling of his bedroom, the way he had every night since Shane had broken up with him. He still didn’t understand what went wrong.
Three days prior, Shane had been acting strangely at practice. Avoiding Ilya’s gaze and dodging out of any conversation Ilya had tried to start with him. Whatever, he’d thought. Maybe he’s just stressed about the next game or the scouts or something.
But Ilya knew it wasn’t about the game. Something more was definitely going on, but he couldn’t figure out what. As far as he knew, everything was going well between them. They spent every day that they didn’t have practice hanging out at one of their houses or going to the gym together, and until that day, Shane had seemed like he was enjoying it. Sure, hardly anyone knew about them, but that was how it had to be. Ilya’s Russian! He can’t come out. Not when he still has to go home in a few months.
Maybe Shane had gotten tired of being a secret? But Shane seemed just as adamant as Ilya that no one could know. He didn’t even tell his best friend that he had a boyfriend until Hayden had caught them kissing a few weeks ago in the locker room.
The sound of a potted plant shattering shook Ilya from his spiral. The neighbor’s cat had been nosing around his plants for a while now and apparently had decided it was their time to go. Ilya groaned as he shoved himself to his feet to look out the window and shoo the cat away.
Instead, he found an envelope with his name written on it sitting on the space left from where he’d cracked the window. Ilya snatched the thing, bending to try to see whoever had left it and crushed his Monsterra, but the porch was empty.
Ilya tore open the envelope and– oh, god, it was from Shane. He’d recognize his love’s neat, meticulous handwriting anywhere. Ilya skimmed the letter, trying to make sense of it.
A pit grew in his stomach as he read. This wasn’t an apology or peace offering after the breakup. This was a suicide note. He’d know after reading one very similar from his mother five years ago.
Hayden
2:18 am
Hayden’s phone buzzed near his head on the nightstand where he’d left it. God forbid a man tries to get some fucking sleep, he supposed, blindly hitting the power button to shut the thing up.
It buzzed again, giving Hayden pause. Who the hell was calling him in the middle of the night? Begrudgingly, Hayden rolled over and squinted at the bright screen.
Ilya Rozanov?
What the fuck? That asshole that had dumped his friend only three days ago was calling him in the middle of the night for what? What the hell could he possibly want?
Hayden sent the call to voicemail and dropped back onto his pillow, but his phone buzzed again. A text this time.
Roz: answer your fucking phone
Hayden had half a mind to turn the damn phone off and go back to sleep, but the messages kept coming in.
Roz: im fucking serious
Roz: answer me right now, pike
Roz: it’s about shane
Well, that got his attention.
Hayden: What the fuck do you want, Roz?
Roz: oh good he knows how a cellphone works
Roz: get dressed, im picking you up in two minutes
What the fuck is this guy talking about? Hayden clicked on his contact and hit call.
“Pike. I’ll be there in two minutes. You better be out front,” Ilya said in lieu of hello, accent thick.
“What the fuck are you talking about, Rozanov? It’s like two in the mor–”
“He’s going to kill himself!” Rozanov blurted out.
Hayden stopped mid rant after hearing those words. His stomach flipped uncomfortably and all the blood seemed to drain from his face.
“What?” His voice sounded weaker than he’d hope it would sound. “Who?”
“Did you not read my fucking text, Pike? Are you fucking illiterate as well as worst player on team?” Rozanov exclaimed. “Shane! He left a note on my window!”
Hayden's mind raced back to about a half hour ago when he’d heard that shuffling at his own window. Upon standing, sure enough, there was an envelope shoved into the lip of his bedroom window. Fuck, how could he be so oblivious?
“Shit,” Hayden murmured. “I have one too.” He threw a random pair of shoes on his feet and a shirt over his head. “Where are you?”
“Just pulled up. Black jeep.”
Hayden tore the window open, not bothering to try to be quiet the way he usually was when he'd sneak out to see Jackie or go to a party, then darted across the yard to the jeep sitting out front on the street.
“Who’s car is this?” He asked as he slipped into the passenger seat. “Do you even have a license?”
“Really? That’s your concern right now?” Rozanov rolled his eyes and Hayden shrugged. His mind felt miles away. “Mr. Thompson’s and no, not Canadian one at least.”
“You stole your billet family’s car?”
Rozanov shrugged. “They are not using it right now.”
He put the car in drive and sped down the street.
“Where are we even going?” Hayden asked, gripping the handle on the door. Roz’s driving might kill him if they didn’t find Shane soon.
“JJ’s house,” Rozanov answered, as if it was obvious. “He’s leaving notes. Next logical person is his other best friend.”
That made sense. If someone was trying to hit all three of their houses from Shane’s house, JJ would be the next on the list.
“And if we don’t see him?”
“Then we keep fucking looking!” Rozanov exclaimed, waving a hand in the air. “You have better idea?”
Hayden shook his head, letting out a sigh.
“Exactly.”
Shane
2:25 am
Shane was panting from how fast he’d fled Ilya’s apartment complex. His legs and lungs burned with exhaustion already– probably because he’d skipped dinner, lying to his parents that he’d gotten food with Hayden after practice.
He stopped at the park down the road a ways from the apartments and flopped onto the ground unceremoniously. Shane fiddled with the zipper on the bag, opening it to grab the bottle of vodka.
Shane had never been a fan of liquor or drinking in general. All the other guys on the team seemed to enjoy it, so he’d pretend at team parties, but secretly dump his cup and refill it with water when no one was looking. Ilya always noticed, though.
God, Shane was so fucking stupid. He took a sip straight from the bottle, wincing at the burn in his throat. If he’d been more careful, none of this would’ve happened. His thoughts drifted back to four days ago when he’d been approached by another player from his team.
“So, Hollander,” Trey had said, cornering him alone in the hall before practice. “What’s this thing you have with Rozanov, huh?”
“What are you talking about?” Shane asked, keeping his face as neutral as he could while his stomach did somersaults in his abdomen.
“You know, you should really be more careful where you make out with your secret boyfriend.”
Shane shook the memory from his head and took another gulp of the vodka. Seriously, how did Ilya drink this stuff like water? It tasted like hand sanitizer.
Now that the letters were dropped off, Shane just had to make it to the highway and the hard part of the night would be over. His stomach was twisting, either from the vodka or anxiety, as he righted himself and attempted to mount his bike again. Okay, maybe drinking vodka before the bike riding was a bad plan. Whatever. He’s fine, right? A little unsteady, but fine.
A car passed by, headlights blinding him momentarily, and Shane threw a hand over his eyes to shield himself. Jesus. LED headlights should be illegal.
Ilya
2:30 am
“Come on, pick up, pick up!” Hayden shouted at his phone in the passenger seat. He was trying to call JJ as they raced towards JJ’s house. “I know you’re awake, asshole!”
Ilya scoffed in the driver’s seat, making a sharp right turn going much faster than he should on these dark neighborhood streets.
“Can you slow the hell down, man?” Hayden griped, putting his phone back in his pocket.
“Oh, I’m sorry, did you think we were on a leisurely drive? I’m trying to find Hollander before–”
“I know, but you’re going to get us killed before we find him at this rate!”
“Oh my god, you are not going to die from going a little over the speed limit!” Ilya exclaimed, frustrated. “Fucking Canadians.”
“What does that have to do with–”
“Oh, look! We’re here,” Ilya deadpanned, shifting into park outside of JJ’s house. “Go check window.”
Hayden grumbled, but left the car in a dash to the front window that he knew belonged to his friend. Nothing.
“He hasn’t been here, yet.”
“Fuck,” Ilya mumbled.
“Maybe we can wait and intercept him when he gets here?” Hayden suggested.
“We don’t even know for certain he’s coming here.”
“Then why did we come here?”
“I don’t know, okay!” Ilya shouted. “It was my first idea, alright? I don’t see you coming up with anything better!”
“Why are you even doing this, Rozanov? You don’t fucking care about Shane!”
Ilya gaped at the stupid, goddamn idiot before him, trying to find English words that would describe just how wrong he was.
“You broke up with him, like, three fucking days ago and now you want to act like you’re his fucking savior!” Hayden went on. “Where do you get off on this, huh?”
“What? I didn’t break up with him, you fucking idiot!” Ilya all but screamed. He felt like he was going to throw up. “He broke up with me!”
Now it was Pike’s turn to look nauseous.
“He lied?” Pike looked like he was turning the idea over in his head. Does it really take him this long to form a thought? His poor girlfriend. “He wouldn’t–”
Pike was cut off by his phone ringing.
Hayden
2:33 am
“JJ?”
“Hey, man, sorry I missed your calls,” JJ said through a yawn. “What’s going on?”
“We’re looking for Shane. Have you heard from him tonight?”
“Uh, no, but I was actually calling cause I thought I saw him by the park on 8th street.”
“You saw him? Are you sure?” Hayden asked, voice raising as he put JJ on speaker. “8th street. The park?”
Ilya shifted into drive and took off.
“Yeah, I wasn’t sure, but maybe,” JJ explained. It was a good enough lead for Hayden.
“Why didn’t you stop?” he asked.
“Well, for one, when has Hollander even snuck out on a school night?” JJ laughed. “I wasn’t sure it was him till you said something. Plus, I’m out with my girl right now, so I guess I wasn’t really thinking about it.”
Hayden grimaced. It wasn’t JJ’s fault, but fuck! He could’ve stopped him!
“Alright, man, thanks.”
“Why are you looking for him anyway?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Hayden lied. “I’ll tell you later.”
Hayden hung up the phone as they turned on 8th street and roared down the empty road.
Shane
2:33 am
Riding a bike while drunk is fun! Shane should do this more often!
Oh, he remembered.
Oh well, at least got to do this now, he figured. He should’ve been doing this the whole time! All that time spent avoiding drinking and drugs and parties and good food and fun, for what? To get drafted into the NHL? That was probably a pipe dream anyway.
Now that plan is fucking ruined thanks to fucking Trey. Well, no. It’s thanks to Shane himself not being able to keep his hands off his boyfriend at school. It was only a matter of time, right, before someone found out? They should’ve learned their lesson when Hayden caught them.
Well, actually, Shane should’ve never had a boyfriend in the first place. He went and ruined everything all on his own accord.
And now, not only is his life ruined, but Ilya’s life is, too. When Trey tells everyone what he saw, Ilya’s secret will be out. Maybe if Ilya was eighteen it wouldn’t be so bad. He could get citizenship here in Canada. But Ilya’s still a minor. Still under the thumb of his father. If it gets back to his family, who knows what will happen? Even if Russia was suddenly cool with gay people, his own family would probably kill him anyway. Ilya had basically all but said that to him when they first started going out.
Hopefully if Shane is gone and out of the picture, Trey will keep it to himself. Or maybe the news of Shane’s death will overshadow the revelation of him being queer. Trey had said he’d keep it quiet if Shane quit the team. He’d been the captain and first line center for months now and Trey wanted that spot.
Shane knew logically that he could just quit the team, but what then? After quitting, there’d still be someone out there that knows his and Ilya’s secret. Not to mention that he’d be tanking his chances at getting drafted and therefore tanking his career before it even began.
So, Shane had done the only sensible thing his stupid seventeen year old brain could come up with. He’d broken up with his boyfriend and started writing his suicide note.
At first, he was only going to write to Ilya to explain everything. He deserved to know the truth and to know how much Shane loved him. Then he thought he should write to his parents as well. His parents, who have supported him for seventeen years, encouraged his impossible dreams, and given him everything he’d ever asked for. And of course, he had to write to his best friend who had stuck by him for so long, through so much.
Why am I doing this? Shane thought as he started to pedal onto the highway, up the bridge. He stopped in his tracks, considering going back down. Back home. To his parents who love him and his boyfr– Ilya who he loves so much.
Love so much that you ruined his life. His brain filled in. Shane doesn’t deserve Ilya. He knows that if he told Ilya the truth, he’d forgive him, maybe not even blame him in the first place. And that’s the problem. It is Shane’s fault. He deserves to not be forgiven. He deserves Ilya to hate him for what he did.
Shane forces himself to keep moving.
He finds a spot on the bridge and sits beside the guard rail to take a few more sips of vodka and look at the stars. He has time to look at the stars, right? It doesn’t have to be right now, right? Yeah, he has some time.