chapter 5.3

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The crowd goes wild as the hockey players skate out into the rink, your eyes glue themselves to a familiar number 02 and you raise your Seoul University flag excitedly. You sat in the special section Mark reserved for you and your friends, Lisa and Hope on either side of you. Surprisingly pumped for the game, or perhaps to see your boyfriend do what he loves most, you raise a hand to your mouth and cheer as loud as you can.

The team enters into a huddle, Mark and Ten in the center as they go over the game plan.

That's so hot.

Although his face is mostly obscured by his helmet, his chiseled cheekbones still prove handsome as ever from where you sit. Mark's uniform is decked out with shoulder pads and knee guards which somehow only makes him look hotter. Over the past few weeks during your many long talks, Mark gushed over his love of hockey and the thrill he feels when he's playing the sport. His eyes lit up in such a way that could only be pure joy and you happily burned the image into the back of your mind.

If he loves hockey, then so do you.

"y/n, do you know the rules?," Lisa asks, eyes darting around as the players start to warm up. Mark sends you a wave and you beam, waving vigorously back. Shyly, you point to the letters painted on your face. The other players must have noticed too because they smacked and beat at your boyfriend in good fashioned 'atta boy' congratulations. You can't hear it over the stadium cacophony, but you imagine he's whining at them to stop.

"No," you admit through your smile, laughing lightly at the funny scene, "Mark told me all about them but I kind of forgot. He did say he'd blow me a kiss every time he scores though, so we definitely should cheer then," you note.

"I see," Lisa nods seriously, as if learning something important.

"Yeah, I don't know either," Hope adds.

The three of you exchange incredulous glances, stifling laughter before just letting it go and guffawing.

"Dumb, dumber, dumbest," you state, pointing to Lisa, Hope, and yourself respectfully. A loud buzzer causes you to jolt in your seat.

"I think it's starting!," Hope exclaims.

The players stop their warm up drills and you watch earnestly as Mark goes to do the face off. Come to think of it, you didn't pay much attention when you last went to a hockey game with Yuna. Now that you're paying proper attention, you notice that the players are strategically spread out around the ice in calculated positions. And God, Mark looks really good in that uniform.

The whistle blows and the game explodes in movement. The audience roars as Mark expertly smacks the puck to number 66, who you remember is Haechan. Your eyes struggle to follow the small, black disc as it's beat ruthlessly across the rink.

"Where is it?," Lisa asks you, visibly confused.

"I don't know!," you cry over the crowd, squinting by the players' skates. It must've gone by every player by now as it's stolen over and over again by the Gators and the opposing team. Finally, you spot the puck as Mark snatches it away from the enemy's defense, squealing as you watch him haul ass down the rink. Before you could blink, the buzzer sounds and an ear-deafening "goal!" is announced over the speakers.

Throwing your hands in the air, the three of you jump up and down with the crowd.

So this is the excitement of hockey.

Even though you didn't contribute a thing, you felt like you had won and your heart raced with pride.

As promised, your loving boy, who had just scored, skates over to your side of the rink, stopping in front of where you sit. Despite how cold the rink is, your face flushes warm as Mark blows you an air kiss. The fans around you aw at the sight and you're reminded of Yuna and Ten. Fighting through the embarrassment, you reach out and 'catch it', blowing one back to him. Even though his mouth is stuffed full of his plastic mouth guard, you can't miss the bright grin that flashes across his face.

As the game continues on, a buzz in your back pocket catches your attention and you hesitate before reaching to pull out your phone. Covering the screen so your friends can't see, you quickly glance at the notification: "crazy bitch, you're not good enough for him".

Sighing, you quickly swipe to delete the message. As always, the hate came from unknown numbers and anonymous accounts. Stopping your socials and blocking each number yielded no results so far and the malicious words kept coming. Although you don't know for sure, you have a pretty good guess about who's behind most of them.

Bitch ass Hillary.

"What was that?," Lisa interrogates, grabbing your wrist before you could shove your phone back in your jeans.

"Nothing," you lie, offering the best smile of assurance you can and trying to direct your attention back to the game. Everyone's having fun, there's no reason to bring the mood down.

"Don't 'nothing' me, I saw it," Lisa presses, letting go of your arm and pointing an accusing finger at the phone screen.

"I... saw it too," Hope admits with an innocent crease of her brow. Damn, you're really bad at hiding things.

"It was just a weird spam message. I've been getting a few lately, but I always block them. It's okay," you insist.

"Does Mark know?," Lisa continues, ignoring your façade.

Defeat.

"...No, I haven't told him". You pray that they drop it, but the atmosphere becomes increasingly more serious.

"y/n, you have to tell him," Hope advises, voice laced with concern.

"I don't want to worry him. Besides, it's fine". You end the conversation as the Gators steal the puck away and you jump up to clap. Your eyes are fixed on the game, but you can feel your friends exchange worried glances behind your back. The way they don't press further and join you in cheering instead makes you release the breath you didn't know you were holding. 

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