All We Need Is Daylight

Frank doesn’t see Patrick or Pete all day. After he’d played matchmaker earlier, he didn’t have time to go and find the two of them to make sure everything was alright, but he’s assuming that everything is okay now. After the confusion between them which has now dispersed, there’s no good reason for why they would continue to be broken up, not when it’s clear they’re head over heels for each other.

He almost can’t fathom how it is that people don’t notice that about the two of them. Frank knows that he didn’t notice, but to be fair, he’d known the guys about three days when he first walked in on them, so it’s not really like he had much of a chance to form an opinion. It is quite obvious though.

Pete and Patrick are always staring at each other, and it’s not in a very “bro” sort of way, there’s definitely something more than that there. Patrick laughs at Pete when he makes bad jokes, and if that’s not a sign of true love than Frank doesn’t know what is. If Pete can genuinely pull a laugh out of Patrick when he’s being the fucking idiot that he usually is, then there’s no possibility other than Patrick being in love with him to explain it away. Most people just feel uncomfortable and roll their eyes when Pete tries to be funny, anyone who doesn’t is something special.

Frank’s got one class in the afternoon, but afterwards, his schedule is free until practice, which is to say that he’s got something like fifteen minutes to eat dinner. After being by himself for the majority of the day, Frank finally does see Pete and Patrick when he goes to the dining hall, and they’re sitting in separate chairs, but that’s about the most Frank can say about them. Their chairs are about five inches closer to each other than they really need to be, and the gap between them is only large enough for people not to notice that they’re practically on top of each other. It’s as close as two humans can possibly get without blatantly being a couple, and Frank just rolls his eyes. How is everyone so oblivious?

Ray and Travie are sitting at the same table, talking about something or other, and not seeming to notice that Pete and Patrick are drooling over each other. Frank takes a seat closer to the unattached guys, because he knows he’ll be a third wheel in any conversation the two of them might have. It must be true love if the two of them live in the same room, and still want to be near each other. Frank sometimes feels like he’ll kill Ray just because he scarcely gets any time away from the guy. He actually really likes Ray, he’s genuinely a good friend, but honestly, there’s only so many hours in a day where you can be with a guy before you need your alone time.

“Hey, Frank,” Travie says, when Frank takes the seat next to him. Travie looks the same as usual, beautiful and celestial, and blissfully unaware of how hard it is to look him straight in the eyes without melting. Frank’s not about to say that Gerard is more attractive than Travie, because it’d be a blatant lie. It’s just that Frank is in love with that fucking dork and even Adonis couldn’t distract him from that fact. Frank’s never going to get used to Travie’s face though, that’s for sure.

To his surprise, Travie is not in the least bit interested in talking about the article. Even with Patrick sitting a few seats away from him, Travie doesn’t seem to care that much. Frank wonders if he’s even read it, but he strikes that thought away quickly when he remembers that he saw his professor reading the article barely half an hour ago. If the fucking teachers are reading, then it’s become mainstream. Frank’s secret is out, there’s no pulling things back from here.

Travie, instead, talks about homework, hockey, whatever the conversation flows into, doesn’t once seem to be interested in the article. Ray is clearly itching to ask about it, he peers over at Patrick a couple of times, as if trying to find the right time to ask him about it, but he doesn’t bring it up since it’s clear that no one else seems to care.

Frank finds it kind of refreshing. Travie has always been a decent guy, so Frank isn’t surprised by the fact that he’s unfazed by the article. Unfazed is probably the best response he can hope for. Mikey had also been somewhat unfazed earlier, that could be chalked up to his personality, but Frank thinks otherwise. Mikey and Frank talked about the article some, but Mikey didn’t seem to mind the content of the article at all. Frank is hoping for more responses like that. He definitely wants to see the guys in the locker room lighten up on their insults, but any of them being apathetic about sharing a locker room with a gay guy is Frank’s ultimate fantasy. Well not really, Frank’s ultimate fantasy involves Gerard and a serious lacking of clothes, but Gerard related fantasies aside, it’s his dream.

Frank doesn’t have the time to take his time when eating. He barely has enough time as it is to cram the food on his plate into his mouth, or into his hands, before the other guys are telling him that they should start heading towards the rink. Frank kind of wishes he could be late, because he doesn’t want to sit through the tension that the locker room is sure to be, but he knows that he won’t be able to explain that away very easily. Being late will only draw more attention to him, and he’s likely to be getting a lot very soon.

Frank spares Pete and Patrick a glance as they’re forced to part ways, Patrick not being very interested in watching their practice, thinking more in favor of the bed that’s waiting for him and the paper he needs to do research on. They have a quick goodbye, one that Frank is sure isn’t enough for either of them, but Pete has to let him go and then he goes back to walk in stride with Frank, whose just a few steps behind Ray and Travie.

“Glad to see everything is alright there,” Frank says.

“I was an idiot,” Pete replies.

“You aren’t going to see me arguing with you on that.”

“I’m really sorry that I jumped to conclusions earlier, Frank. It was never my intention to ridicule you or Patrick, never my intention to questions his character, either, I just, I didn’t believe anyone else could be in my situation. You know how it is, I jumped to conclusions. I’m very glad I was wrong, though, in more ways than one.”

“It’s alright, Pete,” Frank says, honestly. He’s not going to hold any long-term grudge against the guy. Pete jumped to the wrong conclusions, made some startlingly inaccurate assumptions. It happens. And with Frank as far in the closest as he is, he’s not surprised that Pete wouldn’t believe anyone else would be gay. It’s hard to believe anyone else could be when you’ve always been alone.

Sometimes, when he looks at the world around him, it is hard for Frank to embrace the fact that he’s gay. He so desperately wishes that he weren’t sometimes. It is damn fucking hard to be gay. Not like it’s not hard being a whole assortment of other things, but sometimes, Frank really wishes that being gay were actually a choice, because he’s certain he wouldn’t have chosen it. His life would be a whole lot easier if it was a choice. Frank’s particular situation does nothing if not perpetuate the fact that being gay isn’t a choice, though. No one in Frank’s shoes would choose this. Or rather, no one in Frank’s skates.

Frank doesn’t feel bad because he’s gay, though. He doesn’t have any shame about being gay, he doesn’t fear the wrath of God or perdition. That’s not his fear, none of those things are. If Frank lived in a different society, he would have no issues with himself whatsoever. It’s other people who make things hard on him. It sucks, because Frank knows it’s not his fault. Nothing about his sexuality is wrong, and he’s not wrong, but other people hate him for it anyway. That’s the reason being gay is hard, it’s not anything beyond that. People scare Frank, not higher powers.

The locker room is uneasy when Frank steps into it. The tension is clear, and it’s stale. It’s not the kind of tension that you feel good about stepping into, but it’s unavoidable. Frank hums to himself, tries to distract himself from the fact that everyone is a little on edge, including himself.

They all know about the article, if there was a shadow of a doubt before, it has dissipated now.

Frank starts to get ready, peering around at the room around him every so often, worried that someone is going to jump out at him, or something else as ridiculous.

Frank jumps at the sound of something slamming, caught by surprise despite how hyperaware he is. The sound is of metal hitting metal, and he turns to see Morgan and his cronies, standing in the entrance of the locker room. Morgan’s got his hand on the locker that he just slammed closed, and he’s got venom in his eyes. Frank feels a chill run through his heart, quite immediately, quite terrifyingly.

He turns to look over at Pete, who’s just as surprised as Frank had been, and he looks to have something equal to Frank’s fear. Frank analyzes a few other faces in the split second he has before Morgan’s cold voice fills the room, and it’s clear to see that he and Pete are not the only ones who fear Morgan’s words. Frank and Pete may or may not be the only gay guys on the team, but despite their minority, the looks on everyone’s faces express the fear of what is to come of the article, as if the article was about them. Only one person gave that interview, but everyone will feel the reverberations of it.

Things are about to get a whole lot different. The dynamics between the players, on the ice, off it, and possibly even with other teams, are about to morph into something no one has seen before.

“If I find out which one of you…” Morgan starts, and then breathes in deeply, as if holding back something, holding back anger which is still clear in every inch of him. “You’ll wish you were dead. You’ll crave death.”

Morgan says it simply, in a way, elegantly, putting a prim little bow on the threat. There isn’t a hint of hesitancy to his tone or his face; it’s his steady, almost sugary voice that makes the threat as horrific as it is. Frank can’t fathom how it is anyone can make a threat sound as terrifying as Morgan does. Frank could be standing in front of Lord Voldemort right now and not be as scared of him as he is of Morgan.

Morgan frightens him, and not just in the way that you’re frightened of your high school bully. Frank doesn’t worry that he’ll be shoved in a locker, or that he’ll be given a black eye, or even that he’ll end up with a broken rib. Frank fears that Morgan wouldn’t think twice before taking his hockey career away from him with ease, break every bone available to him to break, crush him into tiny little pieces that blow away in the wind, and leave him for dead, or worse. Frank doesn’t doubt that Morgan means business, because there’s a certain type of person you should always be afraid of. Someone who is still a bully, a full four years out of high school, is dangerous, because it’s certain to stick far longer than that. If it hasn’t worn off by now, it may never go away.

There is a darkness to Morgan. A shadow is cast over his heart, a black plague has creeped into his bones. He’s not just a bully, he is something so much scarier. Frank doesn’t know if it’s inappropriate to fear for his life or not, but he feels like he has no choice.

He’s starting to regret the article. Yes, he may have touched a few people, given some people some hope, but what is any of it if he’s dead, or worse? What if Morgan does something terrible to him? Breaks his bones, does irreversible damage, what if he can never skate again? What if Morgan decides to do worse? He could expose Frank to the world, which might be just as dreadful. Sure, he won’t be in a wheelchair, or on crutches, but what if he can never step foot out of his house again without being a laughing stock? Frank would rather have irreversible damage than be shamed away from the ice.

Frank doesn’t know what the right choice is now. He doesn’t know if he’s made any good decisions, or what the consequences of the ones he’s made are going to be. He just knows that right now he is very scared, and it’s his own fault that he feels this way.

Frank turns his attention away from Morgan, though pulling his gaze away is hard, because he craves the pain, to some extent. His heart and mind tell him no, but he’s so curious, so interested in seeing what Morgan does. He’s infatuated with the idea of destruction, and yet fearful beyond compare of it at the same time.

Everything that happens now is Frank’s fault, and that’s something he doesn’t want to accept, but he knows it to be true. If Morgan does something rash, hurts him, or someone else, it’ll be on him. Knowing Patrick, he’s sure to feel the same weight that Frank will feel, and Frank can’t say that he won’t be willing to share it. Sure, Frank gave the interview, but Patrick published it. He knows that’s cruel and selfish of him to say, but Frank isn’t perfect, and has never pretended to be. He knows there is evil in his heart.

Frank tries his best to calm his breathing, but he can feel Morgan’s wolf-like glare at his back. He turns to see Morgan looking not at him, but at Ray. Then Morgan switches quickly to dig into Brendon, then Mikey, then Frank again, or possibly for a first time. Frank and Morgan lock eyes and Frank swears that he sees red in them. He sees actual, bright red flames in his eyes. He knows he’s imagining it, but it’s mortifying, so he turns away quickly, trying to focus on what he’s supposed to be doing. He’s supposed to be changing, getting ready to go out there on the ice and do his favorite thing in the world, but right now, it doesn’t seem very enticing. It seems like a burden.

Frank never imagined that he would feel this way when he did that article. He never imagined that he would fear to play hockey, but right now he does. He’s worried Morgan will hurt him on the ice, and if not him, someone he cares about. It’s not just Morgan he has to be afraid of, which only doubles, and even tripled his fear.

Frank tries to swallow, but there’s something very large and very painful caught in his throat, which he tries to get down, but it’s not even there. He partially knows that, but still, it feels like a rock got stuck in his throat, and it makes breathing slightly more difficult.

Through the doorway appears Frank’s favorite face in the entire world, and he’s got something like determination and a little bit of anger in his eyes. Frank’s stomach does a summersault, because it hadn’t occurred to him yet that he doesn’t know what Gerard’s reaction to the article is. He doesn’t know how on earth Gerard feels about it.

Frank would love to say he’s sure Gerard won’t be bothered by it, would love to say that Gerard might even admire the bravery of whoever the gay hockey player is, but he can’t say either of those things with true confidence. The fact is that he doesn’t know how Gerard’s going to react, but he’s sure he’s about to find out.

Clearing his throat, Gerard begins, “Alright, so I’m aware of certain… news that has been released recently.” His voice fills the locker room, with a tone of authority that Frank is not used to hearing from him. Sometimes Frank is caught off guard by the fact that Gerard is a superior, technically he’s even in charge, that he is someone who is ranked far higher than Frank. Gerard does not seem that way, doesn’t even have the capacity to act that way most of the time. Frank looks up to him though, which makes it quite clear that he is someone of importance. Right now, for a very brief moment that is sure to subside, Gerard does look like important, he looks official.

“I just want everyone to know that this changes nothing about anything. I don’t want any of you trying to demean your teammates, or acting like anything has changed, because nothing has. Your teammates are still your teammates, no matter what, and I expect you to act that way. Anyone who has any problems with that may hand in their jersey now. Anyone who threatens another teammate will be dealt with rashly. This team is going to move forward from this point, not backward. I’d hate to see any of you leave the team over something as inconsequential as this, but don’t think for a second that your hate is more important than this team. If you have any questions, eat them, because this isn’t up for debate.”

Frank smiles a little but he puts his head down to hide it. He’s never loved Gerard so fucking much. It takes everything in the world for him not to walk over there and push the boy against the wall, kiss the shit out of him. He would love nothing more, in fairness, but he can’t do that.

Gerard is something very special to Frank, and he wishes that he had the words to describe it. Even though they’re not dating, it’s clear that Gerard isn’t just a friend to him. They are something more, something very much stronger than friends. Frank wonders if Gerard senses that too, but he doubts it. Frank may be making it up in his head, and that possibility shouldn’t be thrown out, but he thinks that it is something mutual.

“Why are you allowing it?” Morgan asks, spits at him, with his comic book villain sneer. “What makes them more important than the rest of us, huh?”

“The fact that this is a fucking team, Fahey. And beyond that, the fact that we’re all human beings. Your lack of a sense of decency never fails to amaze me, Fahey. You need to embrace the fact that we are a team, all of whom are different to each other in our own ways. Not everyone is like you, grow up and get your head out of the clouds. Well, I say clouds. The dirt, more realistically,” Gerard snarls, and Frank grins a little bit. He does so love Gerard’s hate for Morgan. Frank also feels a bit like a concerned bystander watching a mother scold a child, because when Gerard starts surnaming him that’s how you know shit’s gotten serious.

Gerard is not a threatening or intimidating person once you get to know him. At first, he scared Frank a little because Gerard’s an assistant coach which makes him a superior, but once that illusion was shattered, it’s hard to reclaim it. In this moment though, Frank can actually feel the fear of some of the guys, because Gerard’s rarely ever this serious, so when he pulls that façade out, it’s startling.

“Why should I listen to you?” Morgan snaps, clearly not affected in the least by Gerard’s authority.

“You will do well to listen to me, Morgan. Do not give me yet another reason to edge you off of this team, because I am oh so close, and one more thing from you, it’s the final straw. I have put up with your shit for years, okay? And I’m sick of it. Grow up, you’re on a team, everyone around you wants the same things you do. Gay or not, we’re here to win, and if you stand in my-our way, I will not hesitate to choke the weed that you are. This is a team of diverse individuals, accept it or leave.”

Gerard, ever the drama queen, turns and makes his exit because he’s just too proud of his line, and thinks it deserves a dramatic exit. At least he’s not pursued by a bear.

Frank shakes his head at Morgan, wonders why on earth it is that he would even need to question his assistant coach. Yeah, he’s only the assistant coach, but he’s one step away from Coach herself.

There is definitely some sort of history between Gerard and Morgan and it is one full of animosity. Morgan, and some of the other senior players are the only ones who will remember Gerard when he actually played hockey. At the time, Gerard would have been a year older than Morgan, and he probably would’ve been a hell of a lot better than Morgan as well. Frank’s never seen Gerard play, but that’s his assumption given Gerard’s personality and face. If he’s got a face that great, and a personality that is somehow better, than of course, God’s going to rub it in Frank’s fucking face by making him the best hockey player since Gretzky. Because that’s just always how it fucking is.

Frank wonders what the team was like back then, when Gerard and Morgan played alongside each other. He can’t imagine that they’d have gotten along any better than Morgan and himself. Gerard just might be the only person on the planet whose hate for Morgan parallels Franks, possibly eclipses it. Actually, now that Frank thinks about it, Gerard easily hates Morgan more than Frank does. Frank fears him more, though. Gerard’s got somewhat of a safety net, being a coach, Frank’s just a teammate to Morgan.

According to multiple sources, Gerard has tried to get Morgan kicked off the team somewhere upwards of twelve times. He’s come up with just about every excuse he can think of, but it seems like Morgan is untouchable. There are many reasons for why this is so. First, Morgan is a damn good player. Second, Morgan is rich as fuck, which is a discover that Frank has made only recently, but it suits every image he’s had of the guy. He can probably have his daddy bribe the school to let him get away with just about anything, as evidenced by the fact that he is in his senior year of college and hasn’t been kicked out due to poor grades yet. Lastly, Morgan is scary, and Frank’s pretty sure that even Coach is wary of him.

Gerard can threaten Morgan all he wants, and unfortunate as it is, unless Morgan up and kills someone on the team, he’s probably not going to get kicked off. This is a realization that forces a knife through his already battered heart.

Frank just sighs and tells himself that he only has to put up with Morgan for one year. Just the rest of the year, and then he’ll be gone, graduated, off to do more villainous things somewhere else, hopefully not in the NHL, but it wouldn’t surprise Frank. Those poor bastards who will have to work with him later on, though.

But Frank is selfish, and he doesn’t care about them. He can’t wait until Morgan is out of his life, because it’s his life that he cares the most about. He also cares quite a bit about Gerard’s life but that’s mainly because he wants their lives to intertwine.

“Yeah right,” Morgan says once he’s sure Gerard’s gone, in the sort of whisper that’s meant to be heard by everyone.

“What’s your fucking problem, man?” Brendon snaps, and no one in the room, including Morgan, expects it. Frank’s head jumps up at the sound to look at Brendon who’s standing there, with no fucking fear in his eyes, glaring at the scariest human Frank has ever seen. Frank couldn’t even imagine a scarier person, he could be from Silent Hill and no one would be any the wiser. He’s just a terrifying human being who makes Frank’s skin crawl at the very thought of his existence.

“My problem?” Morgan asks, and he drops the shirt in his hand, pacing across the room over to Brendon very slowly, and it’s like the earth slows to dramatize his every footfall. Frank’s blood runs cold, scared of what Brendon is getting himself into. He doesn’t even know the guy and yet Frank feels as though he’s in Brendon’s shoes right now. He can practically feel the glaring of Morgan’s eyes on him as he approaches Brendon.

Frank’s going to literally witness a fucking murder and he won’t be able to do anything about it.

“You’re my problem,” Morgan says, then pushes Brendon back, towards the wall, not really enough to hurt him, just enough to instill fear in him, “Fag.”

Frank flinches at the word, because it feels like a wound. It feels like a sword, or an ax. For some reason, it hits him just above his spine, where neck meets back. He couldn’t say why, because it’s not directed at him, but it feels like Morgan is speaking right to him. Probably because Frank’s fully aware that the hate behind the word is directed at him, even if Morgan isn’t aware of it. That word is why he gave Patrick that interview, so he wouldn’t have to hear it any longer. In Morgan’s case, the interview may only strengthen the word in Morgan’s repertoire.

“The article isn’t about me,” Brendon says, whispers, and even though his face refuses to show it, Frank can tell he’s scared. He’s starting to doubt his original confidence, and he’s right to do so. He’s practically shitting his pants with Morgan’s attention focused solely on him. Frank doesn’t blame him, it’s easy to be confident to begin with, but that confidence fades very quickly once you see what you’re up against. Brendon is lanky, and not particularly muscly either. He’s not quite as thin and willowy as Mikey is, but Brendon could still be snapped in half by Morgan.

“I had a suspicion it was you the second I read that article,” Morgan says, and Frank can hear the silence like a swarm of bees buzzing around the room.

“It’s not,” Brendon says, his voice on the cusp of breaking.

“I don’t believe you,” Morgan says, looking down at Brendon, even though there’s barely an inch in height difference between them. Frank wants to turn away, wants to stand between them, pull them apart, wants to run away altogether. He can’t tear his eyes away from the drama unfolding though, and it pains him to know that he’s just watching.

It’s always Brendon that stands up to Morgan, and Frank doesn’t know if he’s got some sort of death wish or if he’s simply got no filter, but it’s starting to worry him. Brendon is going end up with his body in pieces in a dumpster, and Morgan will probably get away with murder because he’s rich, and also white.

“Back off, Morgan,” Pete says, interrupting what feels like a movie scene. Frank is hit with the reality that he’s in this scene, himself. Hit with the fact that the people around him are real, he’s not watching a screen. He has the ability to interact with the people and things around him, and yet it’s like someone has removed him from this world and made him nothing more than an onlooker.

Morgan turns his gaze quickly to Pete, and Pete is probably the only person in the room who he’d actually consider listening to. Morgan purses his lips, his face becoming snakelike in the process, but he relents, stepping back and turning to walk back across the room. He leaves Brendon standing in the wake of him, looking very small, like a child whose lost his parents in a supermarket.

Pete deserves a fucking ribbon, because he just prevented a murder. Frank thanks his lucky stars that Pete’s the captain, because if Morgan had somehow won the spot of captain, then everything would have already blown up.

Frank wonders why it is that everyone believes the article is about Brendon. First Ray, now Morgan. It occurs to Frank that he himself might be assuming things that aren’t true. It’s entirely possible that Brendon actually is gay, and that would explain why he’s so defensive about the article. That, or it could be because Brendon’s just not a douchebag. Sticking up to Morgan is a hard thing to do, and Brendon is the only person who Frank has ever seen do it. Pete doesn’t really count, because he’s never called Morgan out on his behavior, but Frank’s witnessed Brendon do it about three times now.

There’s only a few reasons for why Brendon would stand up against Morgan, stupidity being near the top of that list. Still, Frank can’t help but to wonder if the reason Brendon is so defensive about it is because he empathizes with the article.

Of the guys on the team, Brendon being gay would probably surprise him the least. Mikey is somewhere as a close second, because Mikey doesn’t seem too dictated by rules of life, he’d probably just go with the flow in most scenarios if it suited him. Mikey’s not the “no homo” kind of guy he’s the “I’ll try anything once” kind of guy.

Frank feels a wash of guilt when he remembers that the article is about him. If Brendon gets shit for it, that is on Frank. If Brendon winds up with a black eye or a broken arm tomorrow, Frank will be at fault. It will be entirely his burden to bear, and he knows he’d be obligated to tell Brendon that. Because if Morgan were to break Brendon’s arm thinking that the article is about him when it’s actually about Frank, there’s no way that Frank should let that slide without saying something about it. He doesn’t want this to become a witch hunt, though now that he looks around the locker room, he can see that it already has.

That’s what he should do. Frank should tell Brendon right now, since it’s clear that he’s the first target on Morgan’s list. He should pull Brendon aside after practice and lay it all down. If Brendon gets injured, than he definitely should.

But the thing is, Frank doesn’t think he’d be able to. Frank is selfish, he’ll never deny that. Frank cares more about himself than Brendon. If Brendon gets the blame pinned on him, Frank might let it slide. He likely won’t speak up. Frank knows it makes him a terrible person, but he could use a scapegoat, and Brendon might just turn out to be an ideal one.

Frank knows that these thoughts make him a terrible person, but he can’t deny it to himself that they’re true. He cares more about his own hockey career than almost anything else. Frank loves hockey, he needs, and breathes it. Brendon could never love it the way Frank does, he tells himself. He tries to rationalize it, tries to convince himself that hockey means more to him than it could possibly mean to anyone else. He knows it’s not true, and it’s not okay to think those things.

Morgan and Ray aren’t the only ones who have formed guesses, he’s sure. Frank and Pete are the only ones on the team who haven’t made any guesses. Though Mikey didn’t say it, there’s a good chance he’s got an idea or two. Frank wonders if anyone, or how many, might suspect him. Frank doesn’t think that he stands out, and he doesn’t like to think that he acts in a stereotypically gay way, but that doesn’t mean that he’s right about that. He’s never seen himself from other people’s eyes, which makes him wonder if there’s something about him that he doesn’t notice but that other people might catch on.

There are some guys on the team who are going to have larger targets on their back, namely, all of the freshman, because they’re the fresh blood that none of the team know as well. There’s more uncertainty about them than there is about anyone else. Then there’s some of the older boys, the ones Frank doesn’t know particularly well but could have certain nuances to them which others might pick up and feed on. Everyone’s got something about them that could be construed as gay. One of the defenseman wears too many scarves when it’s not cold out, another wears too many V-necks. Hell, this is a locker room full of highly judgmental boys, if your eyelashes are too long they might suspect you.

Frank takes a deep breath, pulling the last of his gear on, and he takes a good look around the room. Brendon may be first up on the chopping block, but with time, he’s sure they’ll move onto someone else. Frank hopes that’s the case, because then he might be able to live with himself. He just hopes that they move onto other people once they inevitably turn on him.

Frank suspects the next person might be him. After Brendon, Frank is probably the most out in the open. Mikey might be on some people’s radar but being the brother of the assistant coach has its advantages, especially with how defensive of each other those two are. No, Mikey should be safe, Frank decides. With time, probably not very much, Frank is sure to become the next target. He just hopes he’s able to avoid coming under fire when his time comes, though.

Meanwhile, Gerard sits near the front of the stadium seating in the ice rink, a few heavy folders littering the seats next to him. He glares angrily down at the ice in front of him, which is still empty because the boys are changing. He wants to be in the locker room, keeping an eye out just in case Morgan decides to be, well, Morgan, but at the same time, Gerard struggles to be in the locker room for any reason at all. He always feels guilty being in there, as if he’s taking advantage of the boys even though he’s not looking at them. If they knew, they’d be so entirely disgusted with him. He doesn’t look at them, he never has since he quit the team, but they won’t know that. Even if they don’t know he’s gay, Gerard feels wrong.

Gerard is having a hell of a fucking week and it is only Monday. Gerard’s feeling very deep emotions about this article, extremely familiar ones which make him grieve a little bit. It feels like he’s in college all over again.

Gerard was a damn good hockey player. He wasn’t the best, not even a little bit, but he was fucking great. He was invaluable to the team, there was a noticeable difference in goals after he quit the team. When Gerard was on the team, it didn’t feel like he saved all that many shots, didn’t feel like he was really contributing at all, but once he left, they started getting scored on more, by an average of about one more goal per game. Per game. One goal may not seem like a lot, but when you can scarcely get a goal for your own team, and have another team scoring several plus one extra nearly every game, it starts to add up.

Never once did he ever consider rejoining the team, though. He couldn’t face that. Gerard knew from the minute he stepped foot into this school that his hockey career wouldn’t last. It laid dormant for a while, but it was something he knew. By the time Sophomore year came to a close, it just all came tumbling down at once.

He connects with the article in a very fundamental and emotional way, because it might as well be about him. He was the gay hockey player who felt victimized at every turn, he was the one who felt alone, as if the world was made up of only white walls that were closing in on him, inch by inch, taking all the oxygen with them. He was the one who felt incomplete, who felt guilty, who felt angry, who felt sad, who felt lonely, who felt empty. Gerard was that guy. Whoever the article is about, they understand everything that Gerard went through.

Gerard just wishes he could help them. He wishes he could find the hockey player and just tell him that it’ll be alright, though coming from Gerard it would sound hypocritical. How can he say that everything will be alright when he’s the one who quit hockey out of fear? Everything isn’t alright, he’s not deeply unhappy about his job or anything, because he does, past the surface, love it, but he could’ve brought this team so far on his shoulders and he gave up two years that he could’ve spent skating them into victory. Gerard’s not saying that they would have won, but a few extra goals here and there, maybe they could’ve pulled themselves out of being a laughing stock. Gerard’s a hypocrite if he says things are going to be alright when he was too chicken to see it through.

Then again, Frank’s slowly on his way to giving the team back what Gerard took away from it.

Gerard had spent all of yesterday freaking out over what he saw on Saturday. He saw Frank figure skating. He saw the man of his fucking dreams doing the very thing that could make his life dangerous. Gerard doesn’t like figure skating, he never has, but he wouldn’t say that he hates Frank because he’s a figure skater. With time, and probably not that much, he thinks he might even come to enjoy it if Frank’s the one who’s skating. He’s steadily getting over the roadblock of his initial feeling about figure skating, thanks to Frank, but that doesn’t mean he’s okay with it.

At this point, Gerard doesn’t think he even cares that Frank figure skates, that’s not what makes him angry and torn up over it. It’s not the act itself. Figure skating is stupid, and he hates it, but it’s nothing that he can’t push past. It’s just that, a male figure skater? On a hockey team? Frank could have the shit kicked out of him just for existing. If anyone found out, Frank would be cast out of hockey with a snap of the fingers. Frank’s secret is not one to be taken lightly. Frank will risk his entire career if people were to find out.

Gerard doesn’t know what Frank could possibly be thinking. There’s no way figure skating could be important enough to risk his hockey career. It’s stupid, idiotic, to even continue to practice. Frank’s entire reputation and career will be on the line if anyone finds out. As it is, he’s been careless. Gerard knows, and that’s about a hundred times too many people that should know. Frank is just lucky it was Gerard who walked in on him and not someone else.

What makes things worse is this article. Frank being a figure skater at the same time that this article comes out means that if anyone does find out about his secret, he won’t just be forced off the team. He might be gravely endangered. Because Frank won’t just be outed as a figure skater if someone finds out, everyone will make the assumption, without a second thought, that Frank is the gay hockey player as well. Boys don’t figure skate, to do so is a signal that you’re gay, or at least, that’s how everyone will see this. It will spread like a wildfire, and Frank won’t be given the luxury of a fair trial.

Gerard’s not sold on the idea that figure skating inherently makes him gay. This discovery doesn’t affect much of anything about his own suspicions of Frank, or lack thereof. Gerard doesn’t believe that he must be the gay player just because of the figure skating, though he’s likely the only person who will think that way.

The only emotion that Gerard feels more than empathy about this whole situation is fear for Frank. Frank has the most riding on this article, and he’s also got the most to keep hidden. Gerard doesn’t know if he’ll be able to forgive Frank for endangering himself like this. He is risking more than just his career, and he should know that.

Gerard is a hopeless dreamer and he’s not the first to admit it, but when he read the article this morning, a certain spark was lit inside him. There’s hope. Something like hope, at least. He knows it’s delusional to think it, but the article could be about Frank. Frank might be gay. And if Frank is gay, then maybe he likes Gerard. However, even if those two entirely improbable things did happen to be true, he would have no way of knowing.

If the article is about Frank, though, that makes Frank’s life a whole hell of a lot worse. Frank is a good hockey player, far better than Gerard could ever hoped to have been. He’s like lightning and a storm all at once, and he is completely unstoppable on the ice. Frank is going to make something huge of his life, whether he knows it now or not. But if Frank is gay, that would put a monolithic obstacle in his path. That’s not to say that he can’t get around it, but it will make things much harder. With the added tyranny of Morgan, the shadow over Frank’s life would get ever more ominous, because there’s no one worse to have on the team than Morgan for whoever the gay player is, whether it’s Frank or not.

Morgan is a huge problem. He’s one that Gerard has tried to get rid of on countless occasions, he’s lost track of just how many times it actually has been. He went to coach the very first month of Morgan’s first year on the team, asked her if she might want to reconsider him, as Gerard had witnessed another freshman being pushed around in the locker room on multiple occasions. Eventually, that guy quit the team, leaving Morgan’s reign of terror to fall on new victims. Gerard was one of those victims for a little while. It might even have subconsciously contributed to why he quit the team.

There were a lot of things that contributed to his departure. He wasn’t getting out of it what he wanted, or so he told everyone that asked. But really, he just felt wrong, and unwanted. He felt his skin crawl every time he was in that locker room. He knew that the other people on his team would hate him if they knew he was gay, and he felt like the weight of the world would come crashing down on him if they did. He also just felt sleazy, because back then, he didn’t have as strict a hold on his own hormones. There were parts of him that were the very thing the other guys would fear. He was attracted to his teammates. He didn’t try to be, and he did try his best to look away from them, but it wasn’t always something he could avoid, given that he was constantly surrounded by two dozen half naked men.

Gerard watches as some of the guys start piling their way onto the rink, first Ray, then Pete, and Frank not long after. He has to hand it to Frank for managing to look fucking gorgeous even from a hundred yards away in hockey gear. What he wouldn’t give for the gay hockey player to be Frank.

There’s a higher probability that Frank is gay then there was yesterday, at least. There’s a one in sixteen chance. One in fifteen, actually, because there’s no way in the world Mikey would do an article like that without telling Gerard first. That’s not to say Mikey definitely isn’t gay, because Mikey is an elusive and slippery phenomenon the likes of which the world has never experienced before, it’s just that, Mikey and Gerard don’t keep secrets. Mikey would tell Gerard if he so much as thought he might be gay. Gerard also decides to discount Pete because he simply doesn’t have a way with words like that article displayed. Morgan, and his goon, Garret are also out. That leaves Gerard with twelve options. A one in twelve chance that the love of his life is gay.

Gerard might just think it because he’s a dreamer, but he thinks that Frank is on the short list of the more likely players. There are a lot of assholes on the team, and while Gerard wouldn’t exclude them entirely, he wouldn’t say it’s very likely for any of them to be gay. If they were, he doubts that they’d do an interview about it. Especially not an interview that propagates hope. Realistically, Gerard can only really see about seven or eight of the guys on the team as likely options, but he’s not willing to narrow it down that far. He knows he’ll get his hopes up if he does. He can’t fall into any pattern of thinking Frank might be gay, because it’ll only hurt more when he has to face the fact that he isn’t.

If you add in the figure skating, he supposes that narrows the field even further. If anyone else were to look at the facts as presented to Gerard, the conclusion would be clear. Frank must be the one. He must be the player the article is about. But Gerard isn’t so certain.

Gerard looks at Frank, skating a few laps around the rink, wishing that he could be as carefree as Frank is. He wishes that he could have the simplicity and fun of being on the team, of not worrying about who he’s attracted to. Gerard wishes more than that that he could just have Frank. That he could just hold him close and protect him, keep him there forever and never let him go.

“Fuck,” Gerard whispers to himself, putting his head against the seat in front of him as he realizes how far he’s spiraling out of control. This is starting to get worse, his heart is starting to physically pain every time he sees Frank. This is how people feel when they’re dating someone and realize they’re in love. This is an intense feeling. It’s not something that a guy who’s got an unrequited crush is supposed to feel. You build up to this for months and even then, you’ve got the person who you feel this way for.

Gerard is in some deep shit. And he's not the only one.​​