Take Your Tears, Put 'Em On Ice

~ T-W-E-N-T-Y-O-N-E

-P-I-L-Ø-T-S ~

~Saturday; 21st of December 2019~

~ P-E-T-E ~

I sat on the bench looking down at my dark blue and gray skates. The big game against Northern was today, and everyone was rushing around to get into uniform or throw in some extra stretches. But not me. No, I was already prepared, nor did I mind loosening up my muscles. I had other things occupying my mind at this moment.

Other meaning a small guy with bright blue eyes with rings of gold, faint freckles across his cheeks and thick black framed glasses across his nose and ginger blonde hair falling over his forehead, beneath a black fedora with a gray band, hands by his face with sweater paws hiding from view as he was told how beautiful he really was.

I sighed and looked up, just as Brendon looked over at me. He face shifted to one of worry and he made his way across the locker room to my side. He sat down and leaned his head on my shoulder, wrapping his lanky arms around me.

"I'm not gonna ask," he began. "But he insisted you come to the game and support the team as captain instead of see him off. He wanted you to come here, so make him proud."

"I... I know... I just... Bren, everything was great again. Beyond great. And then-"

"Shhhh," he pressed a finger over my lips. "Save your breath. Wipe your mind clear, and do what you gotta do." I nodded, pushing his arm away. I was about to speak up again when-

"PUT ON YOUR WAR PAINT!" Ryan came running into the locker room with half of his face a dark blue. He ran up to Josh's and smeared his hand across the red-head's cheek, leaving a giant navy blue splotch. Tyler doubled over in laughter, causing Josh to snatch a tube of yellow face paint from Ryan and put a glob in his own hands, rubbing them together and grabbing either of Tyler's cheeks. Tyler shoved the other away, showing off his new yellow face.

Brendon and I stood. Ryan came over with two other tubes of navy blue and the golden yellow, a smirk on his face. Brendon took the yellow and put a little on his face in random swirls. He wiggled his eyebrows and snaked an arm around Ryan's waist. "I have some yellow, you have some blue... wanna make green?"

I rolled my eyes and took the blue from Ryan as the two began making out. I tried not to feel any jealousy, turning away and walking to where I saw Gerard standing. He saw me and his face lit up a little, and he handed me a tube of gold.

"If you do coloured circles over my eyes, I'll do something on your face?" He offered. I nodded and took the lid off the tube, squirting a little onto my fingers. I coloured on his eyes, making him look like some kind of golden panda. Panda. Patrick would call me Panda...

Gerard nodded towards me and I handed over the paint. "So what do you want?"

"The American Flag, half face."

"No problem," Gerard smirked and I closed my eyes. I felt his fingers touch my face with the cold paint. I tried not to flinch away or twitch. In moments he was finished. I glanced in one of the locker room mirrors and let a smile spread across my face.

"Thanks sir artist," I gave him a brief hug. He laughed and hugged back, tossing the tubes to some other players.

"Alright guys!" I raised my hands. Patrick wanted me to enjoy this, so I will. "We have our war paint, we have our battle call, we have our weapons and armour, but who are we?"

"Glenbrook Titans!"

"No, who are we?!"

"Glenbrook Titans!"

"Oh come on! You sound pathetic! Who the hell are we?!" I strained my voice, looking at my team.

"The Glenbrook Titans!"

"Remember me?!" I raised a fist in the air.

"For centuries!" They roared back and did our team salute; lick the fore finger and middle finger twice then wave them off the forehead.

This was going to be awesome.

.-.-.-.--.-.-.-.-.-.

The puck whizzed by my feet and into the goal. Gerard cursed and got back onto his feet where he had slipped trying to block the puck. The crowd was absolutely silent. Even Northern, who had just scored a point. Their third point. And we have none.

"Pete, what the fuck, man?" Gerard whisper yelled. "I thought you had it."

"I..."

"No, just shut up." He sighed and went back into position. I was about to do the same, but I couldn't. My legs had locked up when I noticed most everyone staring at me. It's never been a problem for me to be stared at, but it's the reason behind it.

I'm letting our team suck.

I am failing my team as a player and a captain. And it's because of what I never wanted to happen in the first place; to be distracted.

"Wentz!"

I looked up and saw Coach Armstrong wave me over. Hushed voices flew around the stadium. This was the first game I've ever been called away from.

"And Southern star player 55 Wentz is called out of the game!"

I couldn't help but bow my head in humiliation. Tyler patted my shoulder as he passed me, heading towards central position. I took out my mouth guard and stepped aside as the Coach closed the gate. People still stared.

"Coach, I-"

"Sit down son, you're done." He commanded, not even looking at me. I sat down on the bench, feeling even more defeated. Tyler gave me a sad look from the ice before everyone got back into position. Brendon held up a hand and hurried to the gate. Coach nodded and sent out Ryan. As the couple passed they shared a quick kiss. Ryan went to Right Wing, adjusting his shoulder pads.

"Titans' 55 Wentz is replaced with 21 Joseph, and 69 Urie is replaced with 66 Ross. Spartans' 72 Shadows replaced with 23 Carson. Third Period starts in thirty seconds!"

"Hey man, what's going on today?" Brendon sat on the bench next to me. "Normally by now we'd have like five points, beating them well. I've seen you, you're just so-"

"Out of it, Brendon. I'm out of it. I don't feel totally here." I sighed angrily and dropped my arms onto my knees, glaring at my skates. "This is why I never wanted to get involved with girls, or guys for this matter. Because something stupid like this would happen and-" my head snapped up. "I gotta go." I quickly untied my skates and ripped them off. I tossed them aside, along with my hockey stick.

I jumped up and opened the gate, ripping it out of Coach's hand in the process. I lept out onto the ice and ran the best I could across the frozen floor, ignoring the burning in my feet from the coldness. I heard people whisper and talk, but I didn't stop nor care.

I made it to the locker rooms and pulled on my converse shoes. I took of my helmet and sat it aside, spitting out my mouth guard and running out of the rink. Before leaving the front entrance I glanced at a clock. It was currently six fifteen. Patrick's flight was at seven.

From here to the airport it was a thirty minute drive, but there's some complications there.

I carpooled with Brendon and his keys are in the locker room.

It's Saturday night in Chicago.

I don't have a phone.

I don't think I'll be able to see Patrick again.