Present day, Ottawa, Canada

You were sitting on the packed bleachers, watching the Ottawa 67’s-Brantford Bulldogs game. You didn’t care about hockey or understand it, but you were dragged along by your hockey fanatic parents & had no say against it.

You watched a player, number 29 to be exact, get an awful hockey stick blow to the head by the opposing team. He had to be benched the because he was too disoriented.

Your eyes drifted to him for the rest of the game, you even caught his last name from the back of the jersey, since he sat a couple rows ahead; Royston.

He had untied his skates and left the bench with his coach. He walked up the bleachers, to find his parents but to no avail. He still seemed dizzy.

“Excuse me~”

He looked into your eyes to catch your attention.

“Do you mind if I sit here?”

He asked politely while he pointed to the bleacher in front of you where your feet were currently propped on, the rest of the bleachers. It was one of the only places he could fit in, given the bulky hockey gear.