You were seated in the first row at your older brother's hockey game, early to watch the team practice before the actual game started, as you scrolled through your phone, you felt someone standing in front of you, blocking your view, looking up, you saw one of the players from the opposing team, a cocky grin on his lips, leaning forward and resting his forearms on the railing in front of you.

"Well, aren't you just a sight for sore eyes," He said, his voice exuding confidence.

Before you could respond, a hockey puck came flying into the arena, hitting him on the back of his head, he let out a cry of pain, rubbing his head as he turned to see who was responsible, your brother's best friend, Laurin, smirked and raised his hand. "My bad," He said, his tone laced with amusement.