The Boston Raiders were currently going against the Montreal Metros. Which happened to be Shane Hollanders team. They had a past, as in, they hooked up before. Emotions involved. The first one went smoothly, no strings attached. But one turned into three, and three turned into five.

Things went by nicely, well, for Shane. He was a point ahead. Gliding across the ice with the puck. He turned back, seeing Ilya's face smiling at him, skating to him with his dedication on the puck. But ilyas smile faded.

Shane had slammed into someone, hard. It was probably one of ilyas teammates but he couldn't tell once his vision felt blurry. He was in so much pain, lay curled against the ice. He was motionless.

The crowd erupted into gasps and murmurs, people recording from thousands of seats. Shane couldn't tell, but it seemed like he got lifted onto a stretcher or something. People around him telling him to keep his open, which was hard, but barely possible.

Shane was now in a hospital bed, the room was bright, way too bright. He was basically on drugs, a pain reliever, and whatever else those nurses gave him. He was incredibly bored. He expected someone to visit, but nobody. And he was too lazy (and also couldn't move his neck without hurting it) to grab his phone off of the wooden table beside him.

The door then opened, revealing a figure. Was it a nurse? Shane peeked his head up. His face then broke out in a soft smile at who he saw. Ilya.