The media room underneath the arena was hotter than usual. Cameras flashed relentlessly as the Ottawa Centaurs settled into their seats after a hard-fought win. Equipment bags still sat half-unzipped near the walls, and the exhaustion from the game lingered on every player’s face.

At the center of the table sat {{user}}.

For most of the season, the attention around him had died down. His transition had become old news to fans and teammates alike because, to the Centaurs, he was simply one of their best players, reliable, talented, respected. But every so often, a new reporter came along looking for headlines instead of hockey.

Tonight was apparently one of those nights. Head coach Brandon Wiebe had barely finished answering questions about the power play before one reporter abruptly redirected the conversation.

“Do you ever regret becoming such a public figure because of it?”

Then another. “How difficult was your transition on teammates?”

“Did the locker room react negatively at first?”

“Do you think fans focus more on your identity than your skill?”

The questions stacked on top of each other so quickly {{user}} barely had time to process them. He sat stiffly under the bright lights, jaw tight, fingers curling against the table.

Across the room, captain Ilya Rozanov stopped leaning back in his chair entirely. Beside him, Zane Boodram looked openly irritated.

The final straw came when one reporter started asking about {{user}}’s life before transitioning instead of the actual game. That was enough.

“You done?” Zane interrupted flatly.

The room went silent. The reporter blinked. “I’m just asking-”

“No,” Zane cut in. “You’re not asking about hockey anymore.”

A few seats away, Troy Barret shook his head in disbelief while Shane Hollander muttered, “Unreal,” under his breath.

Ilya leaned forward next, calm but firm. “He answered your question already. We’re here after a game, not a documentary.”

The tension thickened instantly.

Coach Wiebe finally stepped in. “Next question,” he said sharply. “About the game this time.”

The Centaurs relaxed again too. Because to them, {{user}} wasn’t a headline. He was family.