Chapter 02 AXEL
“I’m signing us up for a contest!“
my little sister Ivy calls out from the main living space in our apartment.
I roll my eyes even though I know she can’t see me. I’m getting dressed for my shift, which she knows. She’s probably taking advantage of the fact that I can’t immediately shut her down from another room, and that means this contest likely isn’t something I’d be excited about.
I look in the full length mirror on the back of my closet door at the entirely black outfit that isn’t all that different from what I’d wear if I wasn’t working, and confirm the longer hair on the top of my head is styled and not sticking up in a million directions. Good enough.
I know with all my tattoos that most people probably don’t even notice my hair, but I like to tell myself I care about looking good because I want higher tips and not that I’m just really conceited.
Ivy would disagree.
“Alright, what’s this contest?“
I ask when I finally leave my room.
“It’s for the Werewolves, and before you protest, I know you hate sports, but this sounds so fun, and I’ve already paid the fee so you’re doing it with me, no arguments,“
she says quickly.
I let out a short laugh. Ivy knows I can never say no to her, but it’s still adorable when she bosses me around. “So how much money did we waste on this Werewolves contest?”
She looks over her shoulder from her spot at our kitchen island, so I can see her roll her eyes at me before answering. “It’s not a waste, it’s for charity. And it was only five dollars each. I did the minimum.”
Still ten dollars we didn’t need to spend, but Ivy very rarely spends money on herself so I don’t say anything else. I’m not the best at keeping my thoughts off my face though.
“Are you sure I don’t need to get a job? There are part-time ones on campus—”
“No,“
I cut in firmly. “We’re fine. And I can always pick up more shifts if needed. It’s not like I’m doing anything else.”
She knows our money situation, I don’t need to remind her that my bartending job barely covers the rent for our shitty two-bedroom apartment. She knows I eat at work as often as I can the same way she eats as many meals on campus as possible. She should be able to spend ten measly dollars on something if it makes her happy. Even if it is a stupid contest for a dumb sport.
Ivy is in her second year at one of the top colleges in Chicago. She’s crazy smart and earned a huge academic scholarship covering all her classes and textbooks, so the only thing she needed to pay on her own was room and board. They did offer her a discounted meal plan, thank fuck, but even paying that and for student housing would have meant she needed a job.
Our parents are no help. After paying for a nasty divorce about ten years ago, they still fight about every fucking dime they have to spend on either of us, neither one wanting to lose out to the other. It’s not that they’re bad people or don’t want to help us, it’s about their own issues, and I know they can’t help much anyway.
My parents never went to college. They met, got married, and had us way too young, and after the divorce was the first time my mom ever had to work. Her job at the grocery store wouldn’t cover her rent without the money she still gets from my dad, and his job selling used cars isn’t exactly bringing in extra cash either.
Unlike Ivy, I always struggled in school, preferring the nonacademic classes like art and shop class to anything with letters or numbers involved. I’m not stupid, I mean, I’m not as smart as Ivy obviously, but I also just didn’t care enough to do more than I needed to pass. I never planned to go to college so it didn’t matter. After barely graduating, I was a busboy for a while at one of the bars in our Indiana suburb, eventually becoming a waiter and bartender there.
I was still living at home, trying to save up for my own place, when Ivy started talking about moving to Chicago and finding a job while also going to school. Despite how bratty she can be, Ivy is my favorite person in the world, and she deserves so much more than struggling through life to make ends meet. I’m her big brother, it’s my job to look out for her, so I might as well be the one to struggle for the both of us.
I offered to move with her so she could focus on academics. She tried to refuse at first, saying she could figure things out for herself. But I went on and on about how I’d always wanted to move to the city anyway, about how sad I’d be living in a whole different state from her, so really, she’d be helping me out. Finally she agreed, and I know she feels bad about me paying for her, but I truly wouldn’t have it any other way.
“You still haven’t told me what this contest is,“
I remind her with a raised brow.
She turns back to her computer, waving me over. “You know those stranger photography sessions people do for, like, blind dates? Well, the team is going to do stranger sessions with a player for charity! We have to submit a short video because they’re going to match up single players with the winning fans that are single, and then the guys with families with fans who wouldn’t be interested in a date—but can you imagine doing a blind date with a player?”
I snort a laugh. “Well, I’ve never heard of an out gay hockey player, so I really doubt any of them would want to go on a date with me.”
“Well, I want to go, and I want you to go with me, so maybe they’ll pair you up with one of the older married players,“
Ivy says with a shrug.
“Fine, but I have to go to work so let's make this quick.”
She beams at me before pulling up the camera on her laptop for the video part of the submission. Then her look shifts to a warning glare. “We can only record this once, so behave.”
I cross my heart and give her my most innocent smile, but her eyeroll confirms she doesn’t buy it. She checks we’re both in the frame and hits record anyway.
“Hi, I’m Ivy! I’m twenty-one years old, and I’m a huge Werewolves fan. I’m a student at the University of Chicago, and I watch all the games. My favorite player is probably Oliver Bell, but I think this photoshoot idea sounds like it would be fun with any player. Plus our grandma had a stroke, so even if we don’t get picked, I think you’re raising money for a great cause.”
She elbows me, still smiling at the camera, so I guess it’s my turn. “Uh, I’m Axel. I’m twenty-four. I’m a bartender…“
I shoot an apologetic grin at Ivy before I quickly continue. “I’m also super gay, and I don’t even like hockey. She signed me up for this, but Ivy’s great, so you should totally pick her! Byeeee.“
I run away toward the door, laughing.
Ivy whines, “Axeeeeel.“
But when I turn back, she’s laughing too.
“Sorry, sis, I have to go. Hope you win though!”
“Hope someone spills beer down your shirt again!“
she calls out as I shut the door behind me.
I shake my head, unable to drop my smile. She’s the best.
“Don’t you think it’s weird that we both got picked for this? We’ve never won anything before,“
I ask Ivy as we walk up to the Caldwell Center where the player meet and greet photoshoot will be today.
“No, I think it was about time we won something. And they let us apply together so I figured if one of us won, we both would. Okay, looks like this is the door they said to use.”
We rush inside to get out of the cold. It might be early spring, but in Chicago, that still means warm coats. I probably should have worn a hat too, but they’re taking pictures of us, and I didn’t want to deal with my hair being all fucked up.
“Hi! You must be Axel and Ivy. I’m Lottie. It’s so great to meet you! We’re so glad you’re here,“
a very pretty woman who’s probably around my age greets us far too warmly.
“You are?“
I ask skeptically as Ivy says “hi,“
seemingly less confused than I am that she’s greeting us by name. I was kind of expecting a big crowd of other people who won this thing, but we’re the only ones here.
“Of course! If you guys can just follow me, there’s some paperwork for us to go over before anything else begins, and then we’ll get to the fun part.“
She doesn’t wait for us to respond, heels echoing with each step as she hurries off.
We follow silently, exchanging a wide-eyed look behind Lottie’s back. Mine is more what the fuck? while Ivy’s is all smiles, obviously excited. I know she’s happy to be here, so I try to ignore how odd this seems as we’re led into a conference room.
“Okay, right in here, we just need to go through some things. This is my boss, Megan. She’s the head of the Werewolves PR department, and this is Andre from our legal team.”
We exchange hellos as we sit down at the table, and I can’t help but stare at the stack of papers in front of them. This whole thing seems way more intense than I was expecting.
“So, as you know, this fundraising contest was set up to find fans to participate in stranger sessions with players as a fun meet-and-greet alternative. The entry did mention that the photos would be shared by the team, so we need you both to sign a release, giving us permission to post your image online,“
Andre says as they pass us each papers to sign.
When that’s done, Megan sits up a little straighter, looking over at Lottie who’s joined us at the table before speaking. “We would like to propose something else, specifically to you, Axel, but Ivy can stay if you’d like.“
I have no idea what else they’d need to talk to only me about, but I don’t want Ivy to go anywhere, so I nod. “We need you both to sign nondisclosure agreements before we say anything else.”
“What?“
I ask with a laugh.
At the same time, Ivy shrugs, saying, “Sure.“
I glare at her out of the corner of my eye. We have no idea what we’re even agreeing to.
“What? I want to meet a player!“
she whisper-scolds me.
I let out a big sigh, but we’ve come this far, and I don’t want to fuck this up for Ivy, so I reluctantly agree. They explain that by signing, we’re promising not to share any details about today with anyone until after the team shares the pictures or they’ll sue us. I’m not worth anything, but I can’t imagine why I’d tell anyone other than Ivy about today, even after the team releases their photos, so it’s not exactly hard to agree to.
When everything is signed, Lottie takes over again, looking at me expectantly. “Axel, during your entry video you disclosed that you’re gay.“
I nod when she pauses, unsure why that matters when Ivy said some of the players would be the older married guys just meeting fans.
Lottie seems overjoyed by the confirmation though, clapping once before she continues with a big smile. “Perfect. We have a gay player who is looking to come out publically, and we would like to pair you up with him for a true stranger photo session, like a blind date.”
Ivy gasps as I try to process what they’re saying. I’d fully said that part expecting them not to pick me. “So… you want to share pictures of me, what? Kissing one of the players to announce to the world that he’s gay?”
Ivy grabs my arm. “Oh my god, you have to say yes!”
“To be clear, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. We’re definitely not saying you have to kiss him,“
Megan adds.
“But if there are any pictures that end up being… romantic in nature…“
Lottie cuts in. “Then we want to release them with the images of the other players and their blind date contest winners with an article interviewing our captain about the charity he works with, talking about the contest, and how the money we’ve raised will be used. We know that the player coming out will get a lot of attention even though we all wish it didn’t need to be a big deal, so we’re hoping by doing it this way, we’ll at least be able to bring some of that attention to a good cause at the same time.”
What the fuck did Ivy get me into?
I quickly scan through my extremely limited knowledge of professional athletes as I try to come up with a response. As far as I know, there aren’t any openly gay hockey players, and I think even I might have heard about that if it were a thing, so this might be kind of a big deal. It sounds like this guy doesn’t want to be in the closet, and I firmly believe no one should have to hide who they are or who they love if they don’t want to, so I’d feel like an even bigger asshole than I normally am if I just refused this outright.
Maybe it would be cool to be a part of that moment in history, even if I don’t give a shit about the sport, and I’ll just be the no-name guy who’s basically a prop for whatever famous player we’re talking about. The fact that they want me to do this has to be a compliment, though, right? I am pretty hot, it makes sense why they’d want me to do this.
Hmm. Professional athletes are probably hot too. They have to be crazy fit for their career, so I doubt this would be a huge hardship for me. And they said I don’t need to do anything I don’t want to do once it starts, so if the guy ends up being a total jerk, I can walk away at any point. They might not even get a good shot, and then no one would ever know I was here at all.
I might as well see what happens.
Ivy is still holding onto my arm, looking up at me with big, pleading eyes that make me snort a laugh. This girl has no right looking that innocent.
“Fine,“
I agree, looking at Ivy as I answer, but everyone else in the room exhales a collective sigh of relief. They must really want me to do this.
I should have asked for money. I hope this guy is as hot as I’m now imagining.