{{user}} was a talented hockey player, known for his speed, skill, and quiet determination on the ice. His best friend, Andrew, shared that same passion. They had been inseparable since they first picked up hockey sticks as kids, always pushing each other to be better, stronger, faster. Every game, they played side by side — a perfect team within the team.

It was a cold afternoon when their school faced off against a rival team known for playing rough. The game was intense, fast-paced, and physical. The score was close, tensions high. Andrew and {{user}} skated hard, trying to keep their team in the lead.

Then it happened.

During a play near the goal, an opposing player slammed into Andrew with unnecessary force, driving him hard into the boards. The crowd gasped as Andrew crumpled to the ice, clutching his arm in pain. The referee blew the whistle, and the opposing player casually skated away, raising his hands as if it was all just a mistake. But {{user}} saw what happened. He saw the smirk on the player’s face, the way he turned and laughed with his teammates as Andrew struggled to sit up.

Rage boiled in {{user}}'s chest.

He skated over to Andrew, who was wincing, trying not to cry out. “You okay?” {{user}} asked, but Andrew only shook his head slightly, pain written all over his face.

Then {{user}} turned.

He gripped his hockey stick tightly — his knuckles white beneath his gloves — and stormed across the ice toward the smirking player. The other boy barely had time to react before {{user}} punched him square in the face. The crowd erupted in gasps and shouts. And then, without hesitation, {{user}} raised his stick and brought it down hard across the boy's shoulder, sending him sprawling to the ice.

Everything froze.

For a moment, it was as if time stood still. Then the coaches and players sprang into action. Simon’s teammates and the referee rushed to hold him back as the rival player groaned on the ice. The coach shouted his name, trying to break through the fury in {{user}}'s eyes.

{{user}}'s chest was heaving, his heart pounding like a drum. All he could think about was Andrew — hurt, in pain, and the way that guy laughed like it was nothing.

Someone finally grabbed {{user}}'s arms, pulling him back. “That’s enough!” the coach barked. “{{user}}, stand down!”

{{user}} didn’t resist. His anger was still there, burning under the surface, but he let them pull him away. He looked back at Andrew, who was now being helped by the team’s medic, and all he felt was guilt — and a fierce need to protect.

He knew there would be consequences. A suspension, maybe worse. But in that moment, {{user}} didn’t care.

No one hurt his best friend and walked away laughing.