** this is part two of chapter three! **
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I might as well have been melted and solidified as a wax figure out on display at Madame Tussaud's for all of New York to see. If anything, those wax figurines had more body function than I could possibly muster up at the moment. Silently praying that my eyes would open at any moment and that this would fade into the treasure chest of dreams I could never remember, I shifted my eyes so that they were focused on the floor. Maybe if I ignore them they'll go away..?

I'd like to think that there was some logic behind my theory. Most of the time it works - i've seen it done, in situations that don't look like this one at least. But just my luck, the longer I stared at the ground the more I could feel the intense stare that those three pairs of eyes held on me. It was unsettling.

"Vill du att jag ska lämna?" you can guess who was the first to end the silent staring match between the four of us. It was in this moment that I was thankful for taking the time to learn the basics of his native language.

"Ja," I nodded, giving him the okay to remove himself from the uncomfortable situation that was about to unfold.

He trotted in the other direction rather quickly, almost as if something was hot on his heels forcing him out of the room. But could you blame him? I'd have followed right behind him if it wasn't for the two over six foot tall hockey players blocking me from the exit.

"You speak Swedish?" Derick asked, but something in me snapped.

"Nearly six months apart and that's the first thing you say to me?" I let out a sarcastic chuckle. "I thought a lot about what it would be like to see you again, but that's not at all what I expected to hear."

Derick shifted his weight from his left foot to his right, and back again - a nervous habit he's had since the two of us met my junior year in high school. It made me feel a little empowered, a little bit in control, and that's exactly what I needed right now.

"Your nose is bleeding," he muttered. I rolled my eyes at his childish second attempt.

"Try again,"

"Look, you're the one who sa-" but he was cut off, and for that I was glad. Because I had a strong feeling that what he was about to say was only going to add to the growing pit of fire that burned a hole in my stomach.

"Seriously," Jamie spoke up.
"I don't know what kind of sexual tension I walked into but," he pointed a finger in my direction, "your nose looks like it could be broken."

Only after he mentioned it had I realized just how strong the burning sensation in my nose had become. The hand that covered my face was drenched in a liquid that, upon noticing the red stains scattered about my shirt, I had confirmed to be blood. In attempt to save the shirt from further damage I tugged on the ends. The cloth was smooth between my fingers as I reached down and pulled it over my head, revealing my red, black, and blue colored sports bra.

The two men just stared at me in disbelief as if they didn't understand the purpose of my actions. Still, that didn't stop either of them from making the most of their view. Their eyes not-so-subtly travelled from my head to toe, drinking in everything in between. I scoffed at their childish behavior, throwing the bloody t-shirt at the two of them to recapture their attention and walking off in hopes of finding something else to wear or pehaps a first aid kit.

"Lets go fuck boy," I motioned towards Mr. Captain of the Dallas Stars. "Fix me up."

Despite having not recieved an invitation I could see Derick reach for my shirt out of the corner of my eye and trail behind Jamie and I as we headed for what I assumed would be the locker room.

Jamie held open one of the double black doors, unleashing the murmurs of the twenty some men dressed in green that were kept silent on the other side by the thick metal. I walked through following his hand that motioned for me to proceed and he followed suit. The door was released quickly, connecting with Derick's shoulder as he let out a grunt. It was music to by ears, karma kicking him in the ass - in this case it took the form of Jamie Benn who wasn't about to extend such a kind action to his opponent for this evening.

The door shut with a click. The sound echoed throughout the room, almost instantaneously silencing what had been a series of casual conversations. Off in the distance I caught a glimpse of light blonde, slightly gray receding hairline who made a quick appearance in the room before glancing at the three of us and walking away.

"Coach, I can explain.." Jamie tried, but Lindy seemed uninterested. He held up a hand to silence him, indicating that he wasn't about to get himself involved in whatever situation this was.

As he walked away I remembered Henrik's reaction. Perhaps the two had gone somewhere, behind some hidden curtain, where they could eat popcorn watch the twisted events of my life play out.

The room was silent again. The kind of pin drop silence that's almost louder than any noise you could ever hear. It's when your thoughts get louder and swallow you whole while you fight for away to bring yourself to the surface.

"Get out." Jamie spoke sternly. "Please guys, get out," he addressed the wide eyed audience in front of us.

That voice - I'd recognize it anywhere. It's the same voice Ryan Mcdonagh used, Marty St. Louis, Marc Staal, Derek Stepan, and Dan Girardi. It's the voice of an NHL captain and as always, the team obliged. One by one they exited the room in two single file lines.

"Tyler," Seguin snapped his head up in response just before being the last to exit. He looked toward Jamie, surprised to find that the voice didn't belong to him but rather to me. "Can you get Henrik please?"

"I'll get him," Derick spoke up.
"Wouldn't want to come between your relationship with my teammate," he snapped.

I was about to correct him. To inform him that if he had paid even the slightest bit of attention that he would know about my relationship with Hank - the one that he had mistaken as romantic when it was completely platonic in every way possible. But something in me couldn't get the words out. If he was going to make a scene, if he was going to act like a child, then I didn't see why I should want to put him at ease with such information.

"What the hell was that?" Tyler motioned towards the door that slammed behind Derick with his free hand, the one that wasn't tucked into his suit pocket.
"What the hell is this?" This time he gestured between Benn and I, and then to my nose.

"It's kind of a long story," I brushed it off. And that was the truth, but I was too focused on the mirror on the wall that I couldn't bring myself to even give him the shortened version.
"I need stitches," I furrowed my eyebrows at the realization, "but that could scar and scars affect my job."

"Should I get Dave?" Tyler asked.

"Your athletic trainer?" he nodded in response. "That's not necessary. Anyone got a needle and sutures?"

Tyler left at my request to retrieve the items without so much as a word. I was surprised at his willingness and lack of questions, Jamie on the other hand certainly had a different take on the situation. He was horrified, maybe slightly confused as he tried to put together the pieces of my thoughts.

"You aren't seriously going to give yourself stitches?" His words were firm, though spoken as a question. I just shrugged.

I acknowledged Tyler's return with a nod. He placed the items down onto the bench next to me. When I turned back towards the mirror to reexamine the wound, I glanced quickly over a number: ninety one.

"Of course you're the one with a mirror in your cubby," I chuckled.

"Oh please," Tyler replied.
"You look at me for fun too, you know you do." His arrogance on full display. "I'm just more open about it, is all."

Anyone who lives in Dallas knows all about Tyler Seguin. The reason he left the Bruins is explanation enough. But if it's not, Google is more than willing to provide you with images that range anywhere from his dancing on a bar, to the multitude of woman who have no problem spending just one night with him. I was never the type, but then again I never had the chance. Since I was legal (and even a little bit before my eighteenth birthday, but no one has to know) I was tied down. Though something about the smirk dancing across his face, and the confidence that radiated off of him almost made me want to spend just one night with him. Love wasn't in the cards for me, especially not with an athlete, but who's to say I couldn't use their stamina to my advantage?

"You can go now Segs," Jamie nearly threatened. Tyler was startled, looking confused in the direction of his captain who's eyes never left mine.

"Oh, I get it now!" Seguin shouted.
"Have fun you two," he winked in our direction as he headed for the door. "Go easy on my captain, we have a game today!"

Jamie was quick to shut the door in his face. The slight blush on his cheeks made me second guess my first impression, maybe he's not a complete douchebag after all.

"So tell me," he sat down on the bench next to me, "what happened between you and Brassard? Or you and Lundqvist?"

My fingers worked on threading the needle that was set down next to me. I sighed heavily, wondering where in the world I was supposed to begin. This was my story; it was every chapter of my life that had been written so far and I wasn't sure what to make of it.

His fingers approached my wound, dabbing the area with a damp towel to clean off my face. I inhaled sharply at the sudden coldness of the contact.

"Well, I guess I'll start at the beginning..."

...and the Rangers win; what a play by Derick Brassard!"

Their was magic here at Madison Square Garden. The enthusiastic fans, the silence during each play of the shootout, the 'goal' chant when the buzzer sounded and the game ended 1-0 in favor of the home team. It was nothing short of exhilarating.

Your three stars of the game:
3. Jaroslav Halak
2. Henrik Lundqvist with a shutout!
and of course,
1. Derick Brassard.

A win against the Islanders was exactly what the Swanepoel sisters wanted to see. VS Model Candice stood triumphantly from her seat, more than happy with her season tickets that had her placed above the penalty box. She was a Ranger fan, it was in her blood, but no one was as into hockey as her younger sister Addison.

Addie was the modeling industry's biggest prospect. At seventeen years old she was, by law, strictly limited when it came to the profession. But as her eighteenth birthday rapidly approached, agencies were lining up around the corner to get her signature on a binding contract.

The two were nearly the last to leave the arena. Great seats were of course great, but so was the amount of people that separated their designated cushioned chairs and the doors of the exit. Slowly but surely they made it out the door, all the while Addison neglected to notice a certain pair of eyes watching her intently.

It was an unspoken rule; a ritual for all of New York even. A win for the Rangers meant celebrations were in order, and who wouldn't want to spend the post game with none other then the team itself? It was public knowledge that Vampire Lounge is the place find them, especially after a win against their rival team. The club was exclusive but woman dressed accordingly would have no trouble at all. Men on the other hand, you do what needs to be done to get in.

Music, dancing, liquor, the New York Rangers and sometimes other well known faces - it was every puck bunny's dream. So when Derick Brassard caught a glimpse of the leggy blonde at the bar in a navy blue dress, he said goodbye to his teammates on his way out of the VIP section to pick up an easy lay.

"Can I buy you a drink?" he spoke cooly, as if he had uttered those words a hundred times before. And well, he had.

He wasted no time, motioning towards the bartender and having two shots of tequila placed in front of them in minutes. No time wasted meant no time for explanations, but she was sitting at the bar right? So she must be at least twenty one.

One shot turned into two, and then to three and so on. Addie wasn't a lightweight but tequila was her poison and perhaps she had done one shot too many.

"You wanna get out of here?" he asked.

Against her better judgement she nodded in response, "'my place or yours?"

"I live just a couple blocks away, so mine?" Addie was quick to agree and the two drunkenly stumbled out the door.

Jamie interrupted me, removing the cloth from my face and tossing it into the nearest trash bin. The red liquid that once stained my face was now gone and I double checked the needle to make sure it was ready for use.

He scoffed and I hesitated, giving him a blank look, "I've done this before," I reassured him. Not to mention I've seen in done a hundred times on Grey's Anatomy, if that counts for anything.

"I don't care about that," he shook his head, "I still think it's crazy but whatever, give yourself stitches I don't care." His sudden change of heart had me taken aback and slightly confused as well. But when he opened his mouth to speak again it all began to make sense.
"You were seventeen and you went back to his place? You slept with him, that's illegal."

"But I..."

"But nothing," he cut me off. "He could have gotten arrested for that! You didn't think to mention that you were underaged?"

He shot up out of his seat exasperated. His long fingers tugged at his dark hair as he paced back and forth.

"I've heard this story before," a third familiar voice spoke up. "She did nothing wrong man, she was drunk. Let her finish."

"Tack så mycket, Henrik" I smiled, thanking my best friend. Derick had successfully retrieved him from the guest locker room and all in perfect timing.

"I'm sorry I just.. you should have said something."
I decided not to press the issue any further. Instead I brought the needle to my face, wincing at first contact with the wound on my cheek.
"Whatever, continue," Jamie urged.

The next morning was full of splitting headaches and a lot of snow fall. But more importantly, Addison was happy to have made it back safely. She had lost control last night and it wasn't something she planned to do again.

"Mmm," a groaning sound erupted from behind her and the bed dipped on the right side.
Wait, what?Addie's body was undeniably stiff. She had made it home last night, right? So then who else could possibly be inhabiting her bed..

"Oh, you're still here." The sound of his voice was all it took. She shot out bed only to realize that it wasn't her bed at all. The memories came flooding back at once and she shamefully picked up her dress off the floor, throwing it on quickly to cover her exposed body.

"I was just leaving.." she searched frantically for her shoes.

Addison didn't know what the morning after protocol was like. Was she supposed to leave last night when they were done? Was she supposed to pretend like nothing happened? She was freaking out inside and not just because this was the first time she had a good enough look to identify him as her favorite NHL player.

"Oh alright..." he trailed off as if wracking his brain for the lost memory of her name.

"Addison," she stuck her hand out.

"Derick," he reached out towards her. Instead of shaking her hand he tugged lightly. Caught off guard, the young model fell back onto the bed in the spot she had been previously just next to him.

"Round five?" he wiggled his eyebrows.

She wanted to accept. Really, she did. In fact she was almost hoping he'd ask, but something inside her had her hesitating at the offer. He didn't know what he was getting himself into.

"I can't, I'm sorry."

She wanted to, she really really wanted to, but she was afraid that if she stayed too long he would trip her and she'd start to fall. He'd have no intent to catch her.

"I'll walk you to the door," he offered, and of course he followed through. Riding the elevator silently they headed towards the lobby of the apartment building

But when they reached the door...

"Addison, over here!"

The camera flashes were blinding. How did they find her here?

Derick seemed unphased. Clearly used to the media he ignored them all together. He was about to ask for her number when all of the sudden,

"Are you going to sign with Victoria's Secret when you turn eighteen? Or Sports Illustrated?"

I placed a band aid over the finished sutures once I cut off the left over string. The procedure went fairly well despite the lack of sedative. I was surprised at how still I remained, even with the feeling of a needle sewing my skin.

"So he found out because of the reporters?" Jamie asked.

"Yeah and he was furious, but after a week of ignoring me he decided didn't care." At least not enough to end things. In a way it added to the heat of the situation. "So we snuck around until I turned eighteen."

"When did you break up with him, or start cheating on him with Henrik or whatever?" he pointed towards Hank. "I'm still confused about why he's involved in this."

I reached into the back pocket of my jeans. My fingers fumbled with the cold, round piece of jewelry before finally pulling it out.

"Derick proposed," I motioned towards the ring. "It happened roughly six months ago on my nineteenth birthday and I said no; he broke up with me on the spot." Jamie nodded slowly, finally connecting the dots.
"And Henrik and I have always been just friends. I actually kind of want him to adopt me," I joked, trying to lighten the mood.

The wounds were freshly opened from telling the infamous tale of Derick Brassard and Addison Swanepoel. It was the first time I had strung it together completely from start to finish. Thankfully, I had the needle to blame for any tears that stung my eye.

The next few moments were spent having my stitches evaluated. After a thorough inspection from Jamie and a quick look from Henrik I was given a thumbs up on my efforts. So I took my seat next to Jamie, Hank sat across from us, as we tried to explain how I was crushed between two hockey players and ended up with a broken nose.

But little did I know that this wasn't the last time I'd be crushed between two..
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Notes

I wrote half of this drunk and the other half of this hungover so please forgive any grammatical mistakes.
Lundqvist had his second child and Cam Talbot dominated in that shootout last night! It was a good day to be a Ranger fan.

thanks for reading! xx