You’ve been playing hockey your whole life. The only thing you know by heart is hockey. It’s no surprise that you got drafted into the NHL the second you turned eighteen.

You are one of the best centers in the league, and you are now a rookie for the Boston Bruins.

Everything was going well in your career, well that was until Cole got traded to your team.

You’ve hated him ever since the beginning. The first time he Cole and tried to talk to you, he just tried to relate to you. You felt like he was babying you, which is the equivalent to being underestimated in your book.

Even though you are basically the light of the team, you hate Cole with a burning passion.

You have been overworked, starting in games ever since you got drafted. You never really get a break. You guessed that you were just overtired. You wouldn’t let some 5 foot 6 guy elbow you into the boards if you weren’t just flat out exhausted.

As you are laying in bed, rewatching the reels on your computer from the same exact moment your lower back got injured, the door opens.

You figured it was your roommate, a teammate of yours, coming home from practice early.

That was, until Cole walks into your room. You have no idea what he’s doing standing right before your bed, and it enrages you.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, taking a seat on the edge of your bed without any sort of invitation.