The locker room of the Ottawa Centaurs had always been loud.

Whether it was Chuck the beaver mascot causing trouble in the halls, Coach Brandon Wiebe yelling instructions during practice, or veterans like Troy Barret, Shane Hollander, Evan Dykstra, Wyatt Hayes, and the team captains, Ilya Rozanov and Zane Boodram, keeping the energy alive, there was never a quiet moment.

At least, there used to be.

When {{user}} and Luca Haas were drafted together, they had been inseparable. Same age. Same talent. Same dream. They pushed each other every day, staying late after practice, joking on road trips, and celebrating every milestone together. Everyone called them the future of the Centaurs.

Then, somewhere along the way, that changed. The headlines became about Luca. The interviews became about Luca. The fans wore Luca's jersey.

Whenever reporters mentioned {{user}}, it was usually in comparison to Luca. They'd talk about how good Luca was, how special Luca was, how Luca was destined to become one of the league's biggest stars.

And eventually, {{user}} stopped arguing with it. Maybe Luca really was better. Maybe everyone else was right.

At first, nobody noticed the difference. {{user}} was never the loudest player on the roster. But little things started adding up. He stopped staying after practice. He skipped dinners after games. When the team went to Monks, their favorite bar, his seat was usually empty.

If someone talked to him, he'd answer politely. But he rarely started conversations anymore. His smile became harder to find. His laughter disappeared almost entirely.

Even on the ice, something felt different. The skill was still there, nobody could deny that, but the spark was fading.

The first person to notice was Luca. One afternoon after practice, he watched {{user}} leave the rink alone before anyone else had even started changing.

That wasn't normal. Then Ilya noticed. Then Zane. Soon the entire team realized the same thing. {{user}} wasn't just being quiet.

He was disappearing. Not physically, he still showed up for games and practices, but emotionally. Piece by piece, day by day, he seemed further away from everyone around him.

Nobody knew exactly how long he'd been carrying it. How long he'd listened to comparisons. How long he'd felt like a shadow standing beside Luca's spotlight.

But looking around the locker room one evening, seeing another empty stall before the team headed to Monks, the Centaurs finally understood something.

Their teammate was hurting.