igor shesterkin-ночная муха

one

...・゜-: ✧ :-･ﾟﾟ･｡
  I woke up to a loud ringing piercing my ears on my phone. I groggily turned over in my bed to look at my phone. My five minute late alarm was blaring throughout my room and disturbing the peace.
  I sighed. Fuck. I hated getting up so early for work. But I'd promised my best friend, Alina, that I would cover her shift for the morning if she covered for the evening. It was a trade off, since she was going out with her boyfriend the previous night and was probably going to wake up with a hangover.
  I grabbed a hair tie from my dresser and pulled my hair into a tight ponytail as a multitude of notifications sprung on my phone's electronic screen.
  I picked up my phone as I headed into the bathroom. My mother was calling me nonstop, so I decided to answer.
  "Autumn Prescott! What have you been doing?!"
  "Sleeping," I said, rolling my eyes. "What do you want?"
  "Don't talk to me like that, young lady."
  "Sorry."
  After a long sigh, she continued. "Jake has been bothering me and your father nonstop about seeing the Rangers again."
  "The Rangers?" I asked, a foul taste on my tongue. Though I didn't care all too much about hockey, I had always preferred the Devils.
  "Yes, the Rangers. So your father decided to give him our season tickets for tonight since we can't go. Can you take him?"
  "He's sixteen, Mom, he can take care of himself."
  "Still. Madison Square Garden is a large arena and I'm worried."
  My mother had always been worried. Neither Jake nor I had ever been in a situation where we were ever touched by a stranger, but she was still paranoid. It was something she'd rather avoid.
  I sighed. "Fine. What time is the game?"
  "Seven. It's against the Devils."
  My eyes brightened. I didn't have any Devils jerseys, so that meant I had to steal a Rangers sweater from my brother, but I was excited nonetheless.
  "Okay. I'll call you after work."
  I hung up the phone after saying our goodbyes and got in the shower to get ready for work.

᯽᯽᯽

  Work wasn't busy that day. I worked at an all day breakfast and barista called Antonio's.
  Work was almost normal that day, if it weren't for the three men in suits that showed up. I took their orders with a confused look on my face as I overheard a radio station talking about the Ranger's game against the Devils.
  "Michael Mcleod, Pavel Zacha, Jimmy Vesey, and Alexander Holts scored in the Devil's last game against the Washington Capitals, giving them a four to two lead..."
  I looked down at the name for the order. Michael. My eyes widened.
  "Michael!" I called, bumping into my coworker as I noticed that their large order of coffees was ready.
  "Right here," the man in the middle said with a smile. He had a dark red suit on, a fitting color for the New Jersey Devils. Two men behind him helped him with the coffees.
  "Sorry, are you—are you Michael Mcleod?" I asked, trying my best not to mispronounce his last name.
  He chuckled. "Yeah. Are you a sports fan?"
  "Yeah," I breathed. "Sorry, I really like the Devils."
  "A Devils fan living in the Big Apple?" the man two his left asked.
  "You'd be surprised," I laughed. "Good luck tonight."
  "Thanks, Barista Girl."
  "Thanks for the coffee!" one called, dropping a couple of bucks in the tip jar. Michael laughed, dropping a few dollars as well.
  "Thanks. See you around?"
  My lips curled into a smile. That was probably the only time I'd ever see him in my entire life, but I didn't care—I was in a euphoria.
  "Yeah... Have a nice day!" I called as he walked out of the store. I facepalmed as my coworker, Tyler, patted my back.
  "Hockey guy?"
  "Yup."
  He laughed. "Too bad you're not a twenty five year old blonde girl. That seems to be all the rage for hockey men."
  "Like you would know," I asked, looking at his ginger hair.
  "Oh Autumn, your words wound me."
  I rolled my eyes and laughed, taking another order.

᯽᯽᯽

  Eventually, game time rolled around. It was 4:00 and my brother wanted to go early for warm ups, so I started the drive to my mom's house. I had decided to eat dinner there to make things easier before the game before leaving at 5:30 to get there in time to see the Rangers.
  Jake and I walked down to the glass and sat in a front row seat to watch the warm ups. He had a poster for his favorite player on the team, Artemi Panarin.
  We waited there for about an hour until the music started blaring across the arena and the players came out onto the ice. I stood next to Jake and started banging on the glass with him to get the players' attention.
  Artemi Panarin stopped skating to look at my brother's poster. I gave him a smile as he tossed a puck over the glass. Jake cheered, yelling, "Breadman!" I laughed, thinking about how stupid that sounded.
  I shook my head and looked across the ice. The goalie was warming up and he had the number "31" on it. It was weird, cause I'd always known of a number 30. I'd guessed he was retired, since when I looked up, I saw a large jersey with his number on it.
  I felt really dumb. I was at a hockey game and I barely knew anything about my own hometown's team. It felt embarrassing.
  Before I knew it my face was burning. Blood rushed to my face and I sat down next to Jake to escape from the crowd's peering eyes. I felt like people were watching me, but I guessed that it was because I was literally pressed against the ice.
  I glanced up after a while to see someone staring at me. Not just anyone, someone on the ice. A player. The player my brother idolized so much—Artemi Fucking Panarin.
  He was chewing gum, as most players did, and seemed to be eyeing me peculiarly. He turned away and skated toward the goalie, so I brushed it off as him thinking I was the sister to the boy he gave a puck to or something. Something inside of me knew that wasn't it though.
  I shook my head and looked at where Panarin was heading next. He was with the new goalie—well, new to me at least. I hadn't really paid much attention to him.
  Then something happened that I did not expect at all. I caught his eye as he skated past me to go back into the bench. He was taking off his helmet, so I could get a good look at his face. It was small, and he had puffy cheeks with a small nose. He had a little bit of stubble, and though it looked ugly on most men, it honestly made him look cute. He had brown hair down to an inch above his shoulder and eyes that matched.
  He didn't smile much, as Jake told me, but I could've sworn his lips upturned when he turned away from me. It was then I could fully see his name. Shesterkin.
  "Did he just look at you?" Jake asked, an eyebrow raised.
  "Yes—no—maybe? I can't tell."
  He laughed. "Maybe he likes you."
  "Yeah, okay."
  Jake shrugged as we went back up the aisle to our seats. "I wonder if you're the reason Panarin gave me a puck."
  "'Scuse me?"
  "He's best friends with Shesty. I wouldn't be surprised if he came here to scope you out."
  I rolled my eyes. "Come on Jake. Enough with your stupid shit, where are we sitting?"
  He pointed to the 108-109 sections. That was supposedly in front of the home bench and net where the Rangers' goalie would be.
  My stomach twisted into a knot. Part of me believed my brother's stupid fantasies, and part of me just thought he was giving me false hope. It was most likely the latter of the two. However, I couldn't help but hope I'd see Shesterkin again.
  After all, he was kind of cute.