There are only two things in this world that can really make you angry: social injustice and morning people.

    "Y/N please!," your roommate, Yuna, whines, " I don't wanna go alone!". Kneeling by your bedside, she presses her cold fingertips to the back of your neck. Letting out an ungodly screech, you flail to the side in an attempt to defend yourself, arms and legs getting tangled in the blankets and your body falling to the ground in a defeated 'thump'.

    "Ow fuck...," you groan, trying to get out of the nest of blankets and rubbing your sore shoulder, "harsh much, Yuna?".

    "I'm sorry!," the taller girl yelps while helping you up, "I didn't mean to. I'm sorry", she repeats, pulling you into a tight hug. You can't help but let out a small chuckle despite your annoyance.

     Yuna is one of your best friends from high school and the two of you even ended up going to college together. Now that it's your sophomore year, you chose to be roommates and haven't spent a minute apart, well, when she isn't on a date with her boyfriend, Ten, that was. And despite having almost nothing in common besides being on the figure skating team together, she's your platonic soulmate for life and you'd do anything for her.

     Her hair shines bright platinum blonde and anyone would say that she is a true beauty- something that you secretly always felt insecure about. Being next to her tall, slender frame and perfect, bubbly personality all the time constantly makes you wonder about how others thought of you when you were together. When it comes to boys, they always have their eyes on Yuna and you're left to be the friend on the side who they entrust to relay their confessions to her.

      To top it off, her weekly shopping trips to expensive stores are a painful contrast to your four scholarships. The saucy stains in your jeans from your part-time at the local café to pay for skating fees never come out. 

And you hate feeling like this, knowing that these are simply your own insecurities and that Yuna has never means to make you feel like a silver medal. To give yourself credit, it's not like you're always insecure all the time. You're plenty proud of yourself for a lot of things too.

"Please will you go with me to the game?," the blonde girl pleads, pouting her lips at you. You rub your tired eyes and squint at the mirror at your messy hair.

"Can't you ask Lisa? Or Hope?" You groan, hoping that your other friends could save you from leaving your dorm today.

"No, y/n please" the blonde girl begs, "Lisa has her tap class and Hope can't make it because of Spanish. You're the only one, y/n".

You sigh at her perfect excuse, defeated. "When?"

"It starts at 11:00! I can help you choose an outfit!," Yuna cheers at your implication. Scrambling around, you unlock your phone to check the time: 10:37a.m.- oh shit. Yuna skitters off to your closet while you grab your shower caddy and sprint to the bathroom.

After showering in record time, you throw on the skinny jeans and oversized sweater that Yuna picked out. She always had good fashion sense and you would honestly be dressed like a middle school boy all the time if it weren't for her help. While you have your insecurities around Yuna, other people could say otherwise.

Putting on your usual mascara, your striking eyes are framed with long lashes and your thick, black hair, which is always down when you aren't on the ice, cascades freely across your shoulders and down your back. You may be less put together than Yuna, but your natural beauty could never be denied.

Friends, what few close ones you have at least, would often describe you as the 'chill mom friend' of the group, coined after they found out you post memes unironically on Facebook. This isn't a role you can deny - they're kind of spot on. Grinding everyday, you always work hard to keep up with your scholarships. You're the dependable kind and your motto is to always pretend like you know exactly what you're doing even if you don't. 

Just fake it until you make it, right? 

You wish you could be faking how disgusting your hair looks right now, though.

Quickly brushing out your tangled locks, you huff hotly as you catch sight of Yuna's perfectly done look. 

"You bitch, you could've woken me up sooner," you half-joke.

"I tried to, but you wouldn't wake up!" Yuna cries out, throwing over your favorite white sneakers.

"Screw you! You just wanted to look all hot for your boyfriend by yourself" you tease with a laugh, slipping into the shoes while grabbing your keys. Yuna squeals with feigned hurt, mimicking a dagger to her heart as she grabs your hand to run out the door. Laughing, the two of you sprint to catch the 10:50 campus shuttle.

...

It's not even the bitter cold nor the fact your hair hasn't dried yet and is frizzy like Hagrid's that pisses you off as you sit in the stands watching the forsaken ice hockey game. 

Truthfully, you're not a fan of the sport at all. Yes, you love skating, you have skated all your life and even dream of being a professional one day. The rink is your second home. But hockey? That's not how skating should be at all. Skating is elegant, it's fluid and beautiful. Gliding across the ice, frictionless and cold. The poetry of your movements telling a story and each step, each expression, each turn is meaningful.

So who the hell invented hockey? Hockey is aggressive and crude- men grunting and sweating, slamming each other into walls and fighting over the tiny, meaningless puck. And for what? All for the end goal of slapping it into a net at the expense of the goalie's teeth. 

Not to mention that the men's ice hockey team always reserves extra time on the ice which your team needs to practice, so you admit some of your harsh feelings come from spite. It's a wonder how Yuna could have fallen for their senior captain, Ten, despite the subtle rivalry between your teams.

The jolting sound of the buzzer snaps you out of your passive-aggressive thoughts and you look around to see what happened. The crowd around you goes wild and you observe from the neon scoreboard that the Gators have earned their first point against the Gorillas. 

You notice the team crowding around the player wearing #2, slapping his helmet and back in congratulations.

"How barbaric...," you can't help but think to yourself in petty annoyance. Your wet hair falls uncomfortably damp against your shoulders, amplifying your negativity. Usually you'd make an effort to be nice, but the hockey team also irks you way too much.

"Woo! Yay go Gators!," Yuna cheers, taking off her red beanie and waving it down to the players. A player wearing #10 skates to a stop in front of where you're seated, blowing a kiss towards his loving girlfriend. The people around you chorus 'aw's' all around and you smile at the cute interaction. You know how much they really like each other and if he makes her happy, you're happy too. 

No amount of annoyance for hockey players could change that.

And just like that, your loyalty to your best friend gave you the strength to sit through the entire two hour game, hit after hit, injury after injury, and the match was finally over with the Gators pulling on top 5-0. The fans surrounding you roared with pride and you found yourself overwhelmed with the sudden commotion. Yuna grabbed your hands and jumped up and down, elated that her boyfriend's team had done so well at their first game of the season.

"You should go to him, Yuna!," you shout in her ear over the cacophony.

"Will you be okay?!," the blonde yells back, pressing a hand to her opposite ear to listen to your reply.

"Yeah I'm gonna head out now. You can go back with Ten?"

Yuna nods cheerfully and waves you goodbye, grinning widely as she sprints down the bleachers to meet her boyfriend at the rink. She's already halfway there when you offer an unenthusiastic wave back. It doesn't bother you as you turn to exit the stadium, eager to get away from the chaos and whatever pungent smell it was that fills the air.