growing up, all he knew was hockey. From the moment he could walk he had a stick in his hand, and he was good. But it sucked. Everything sucked. After his parents divorce his dad became fixated on making him the man he couldn't, from private training sessions, to paying for top end club teams and in the end it did pay off. He was now drafted, playing for... in his offense not the best team but... they were definitely the NHL which made his father even more.... intense. Ottawa... the moment he saw his last name, Tautou with his jersey number 38, his lucky number, he was definitely proud

but throughout his career he felt like something was missing, sure he had the fame, the women gawking over him, and a team that respected him. But he still couldnt shake this feeling, which definitely showed in his performance. They were on a small losing streak and finally they were playing back at home in Ottawa, he would be able to go to his apartment and pass out. But why couldnt he shake this feeling. It was definitely an issue. So after yet another loss, getting yelled every name in the book by home fans, and getting scolded by his captain and teammates, he went out. He wasnt sure where but he just needed to do something to get his mind off the disaster of that game.

that's how he ended up here, infront of a small 24 hour pub, which was not very busy, due to it being almost 11pm. He walked in and a few patrons looked over, but in the end, either they didnt know him, or they didnt care enough about his performance tonight to even look at him. Well besides one person... a boy surrounded by two others, a woman who was yelling about some date she went on, and another guy trying to calm her down.... but you... your eyes were locked on him...