Every Version of You (The Soundtrack #2)

Chapter 1 - Nate

The sound hits before the lights do.

That low-frequency hum that builds in your chest and rattles your ribs until it’s almost a part of you. It's a feeling that is so hard to describe. A feeling I have worked my ass off to experience.

Game night.

Home ice.

And tonight, my first as captain.

I can feel it before I even step out of the tunnel. The crowd’s pulse syncing with mine, the arena shaking like it’s alive. The announcer’s voice booms, drawing out the words the way they always do when it’s sold out.

“Your captain… number 19… Nate Carson!”

It crashes over me like a wave.

I push off, blades biting the ice, and the noise explodes.

Every muscle remembers what to do. My name echoes across twenty thousand people, and for a heartbeat, it feels holy.

I’m not the kid from a farm outside Hawthorne Ridge anymore. I’m the captain of the Summit City Kodiaks, the man the fans chant for, the one who made it.

I skate a slow lap, helmet and stick in hand, grin tugging at my mouth. Cameras flash. Teammates slam their sticks against the boards. The ice seems to both absorb and reflect it all: lights, smoke, adrenaline, glory.

For a second, I close my eyes and breathe it all in.

This.

This is what every early morning, every missed weekend, every bruise and broken finger was for.

And tonight, we win. 4-1.

A clean game, good hockey. My first post-game interview as captain, cameras in my face, lights hot enough to burn. I say all the right things, teamwork, momentum, focus, and try to sound humble. But inside I’m lit up.

When it’s over, we change fast and head to the after-party.

Some new downtown club opening. It's got everything that I've been told goes with this life: sponsors, influencers, too-loud bass, and everyone looking at me like they want something.

The kind of place I used to dream of when I was still splitting wood behind the barn.

The car drops us at the carpet, and the flashbulbs start again.

Brielle steps out first, all legs and that practiced, slow smile that makes everyone look. She glances over her shoulder at me, eyes glittering as the camera flashes, and my chest goes tight. There was a time when seeing her do that made me dizzy.

The first time she walked up to me was at a charity gala.

She was in a green dress that clung to her curves, her hair swept back, and her whole being seemed to shine.

She came up to me with a focus that left me feeling dazed.

She asked a question, and I forgot every answer I’d ever known.

She laughed when I stumbled through it, said I had the smile of a movie star and the manners of a farm boy. I didn’t stand a chance after that.

Now, two years later, she’s still the most beautiful thing in every room.

She reaches for my hand, and I let her pull me into the shot. She smells like something expensive, like she belongs here.

She squeezes my fingers. “Smile, Captain. This is what you've worked so hard for.”

So, I do.

Inside, it’s champagne, bottle service and neon. Everything is buzzing. My teammates are scattered through VIP booths, laughing, shouting, most already half-drunk. People drift close, phones angled, waiting for the right shot, to catch what might be said.

Brielle’s in her element. This is her world. She's laughing with one of the owners, leaning in just enough to make him feel lucky she’s listening. I stand back, watching. There’s something hypnotic about her, the way she commands attention, the way she makes the room bend toward her.

People keep coming up to congratulate me.

Proud of you, Cap.

You earned it, man.

Hell of a game tonight.

Every word feeds that steady burn in my chest.

Brielle walks up to me, her hips moving in a calculated walk that I know she's practiced more than she'd ever admit.

It looks natural, like her long, lean legs and hips instinctively know how to move that way.

She places a proprietary hand on my chest and leans into me, but her eyes drift over everyone, smiling for the cameras she can somehow make out in the crowd.

“Tonight is perfect. This is so good for us. Everyone here is hoping to get close to you, Nate, and get a picture with the Captain. A second of your time,” she says, voice low enough for just me. "It's gold... if you play it right."

“You make it sound like being here is a job requirement.”

“It kind of is.” Her laugh is soft, practiced. Her hazel eyes finally find mine. “You’re the face of the franchise now. Smile more. Let them see the charm. Make them want more.”

She kisses me for the cameras, a perfect tilt of her head, flashbulbs sparking around us. The picture will be everywhere by morning, Summit City’s golden couple.

And God, I eat it up.

The attention. The noise. The proof that I’ve made it out of dirt roads and small-town expectations.

For a while, it’s everything I thought I wanted.

The rush. The light. The feeling that I’m untouchable.

Later, when the crowd thins and the music dulls, I’ll realize I can’t hear my own heartbeat anymore.

But right now?

Right now, I’m flying.