Meanwhile, in the office building, Brandon is trapped in the gap between the two solidified walls of rippling fire. The clear, wavy heat waves emitting from the fire is penetrating him, causing him to sweat; his hair is matted on the sides of his moist and reddening face; his suit is clinging onto his skin.

Nick is standing on the other side of the wall, keeping a locked eye on the captive.

Brandon turns away from his betraying teammate with panic written over his face; sweat flies from his hair as he makes the turn. He spots another silhouette approaching him from the other side of the wall.

The fluttering silhouette stands still. Suddenly, spikes of icicles protrude from the side of the wall. They extend themselves across the wall and down toward the floor, creating an ice-made tunnel.

The silhouette then makes his way through the tunnel, revealing himself to Brandon through the distorted, translucent side of the ice tunnel.

“Dustin,” he mutters with bitterness under his breath.

Dustin steps out from his ice tunnel, strolling up to Nick.

He halts next to him, throwing a quick glance at the silhouette of the captive through the wall of flames. “I see you’ve captured Montour.”

“He tried to escape,” Nick tells him with his eyes on his creation. “I had to.”

“Typical.” Dustin whirls his head to face his partner. “Now, I want you to take him to propose the trade.”

Nick faces him. “The trade next in line?”

“Yes.”

Nick nods his head. “Alright.”

Dustin then returns to his ice tunnel, disappearing from view.

Nick then fully looks out on the wall of fire. With a massive uncrossing of his arms, the walls blow away like the flame of a birthday candle.

Brandon immediately spots the disappearance of the walls and decides to take the opportunity: He whirls around and bolts away from Nick.

Yet before he could disappear deep into the hallway, Nick flicks his hand forward, unleashing a ribbon of taunt fire. The flaming ribbon wraps itself tightly around Brandon’s sleeve-covered wrist.

Brandon catches the sight of the vibrant fire restraint around him. “ACK!” He jolts back, coming to a braking halt. He then feels the ribbon tugging at him, forcing him to be dragged backward.
“I’m gonna burn, I’m gonna burn!!!” He wiggles in a scurry to be set free before burning.

“No, you’re not,” he hears Nick tell him. He then senses Nick grasp onto his upper arms, steadying him from thrashing. “Come with me.”

---

A few minutes later, the two teammates are in Nick’s SUV. Nick is driving down a main road as Brandon is sitting on the passenger’s seat with the seatbelt now being his only restraint. He is staring out at the rushing road ahead of him with a glare.

Nick stops the vehicle at a red light. He then reaches over to the console and picks up a manila file. “Here.” He holds the file out at the passenger.

Brandon gives it a disgusted expression. “What’s this?”

He waves it once. “Take it.”

With a huff, Brandon snatches it and brings it under his vision. He opens up the file, revealing the numerous pages it contains. He begins flipping through it, finding paragraphs upon paragraphs of words.

He then senses the car resuming its momentum.

“It’s the papers to propose trading Joseph to the Greek Ice Hockey Championship,” he hears Nick explaining to him.

Brandon’s eyes widen. “WHAT?!” He gawks at the driver. “You’re actually doing that?”

“And you’re gonna help me,” Nick concludes confidently, not tearing his eyes from the road.

Brandon snaps the file closed. “No!” He thrusts the fold against the floor of the car. “No way! I am NOT gonna trade Joey!”

“You don’t want to be CEO—?”

“For the price?” Brandon throws his arms up as best as possible without slapping the driver. “No! I’m not going to!” He crosses his arms.

Nick glares at him from the corner of his eyes. “Well, you are. You got nowhere else to go.” He reverts his eyes back on the road.

Brandon gradually turns his head away from him. “Joey’s not gonna get traded…” He then peers down at his crossed arms, noticing that the hem of his sleeve is scorched and eaten away. “My blazer’s ruined…”

Nick takes a quick, good look at the seared sleeve. “Uh oh, they won’t like that. Let’s get a new one.” He then turns back to the road and makes a right into a familiar residential area.

---

A few moments later, the black SUV parks in front of the serene, cute residence of the Monarossabergie House.

Brandon opens the passenger’s door open and steps onto the sidewalk. He strolls through the front yard and up the porch. He halts, hearing Nick’s footsteps following him.

He spins around, spotting Nick a few feet away from him on the porch’s stairs. “I’m capable of getting a blazer myself.”

“You are also capable of escaping yourself,” Nick remarks brusquely.

Brandon lets out an annoyed huff, before turning around and opening the front door.

Inside, the house is still the same: Same picture frames of artwork, same wooden walls, same surfboard sticker on the hallway. The only difference is the atmosphere: Knowing that a once lively house is so barren, knowing that a betrayer lived among him and his teammate in this house gives Brandon the impression of eeriness in the air.

It also saddens him that there seems to be no way back to the old times after all that has been unraveled. Max is gone and soon, it seems like the rest of his teammates are going to be gone, except for the betrayer himself.

Brandon quietly steps down the narrow hallway, picturing Max smiling at him through the space in the wall, imagining Joseph shouting at him from his room. The memories weigh against his chest, creating a burden of depressed spirits toward the grim truth.

He then makes the left turn into his room, the room he shared with the betrayer that is now behind him with the plan to wreck his life even more.

He swallows to calm the increasing gnawing of his chest and pads to the front of the closet. He stares at the row of hanging clothes displayed in front of him. He flips through each one mindlessly, rattling his brain as to how to get out of this hopeless predicament. His hand then gazes on the familiar texture of his game day blazer.

With a begrudged sigh, he takes the hanger of his blazer from the rack and lowers it down to his eye level. He then hears a heavy piece of cloth drop to the floor. His eyes flick down to spot what has fallen: Piled on the floor is a black cloth. By it is the stands of the infamous telescope from Bryan’s constellation party.

Brandon’s eyes widen at the sight. He immediately tosses the blazer on the bed behind him, swipes the large cloth from the floor, and holds it out before the telescope. Before he could conceal the telescope, an idea pops into his mind: Nicky has powers. I should have powers to be on the same level as him. This can give me powers…

He takes a glance behind him, spotting Nick occupied on his smartphone. With a small smile, Brandon returns to the cursed telescope and places his whole hand over the lens. He then removes his hand and holds it out before him. He makes his hand into a fist, stares at it with hope, then opens it.

Instantly, fire bursts from his palm, crackling and popping without making a single mark on him.
With his smile growing, he closes his hand, extinguishing the fire. Now he secretly is on the same supernatural level as his captor.

---

About an hour later, Brandon, with his new blazer, is standing next to Nick in a conference room. Brandon has his usual anxious expression on his face while Nick has a sophisticated, calm expression.

In front of them is a long table with older-aged men in suits with the NHL emblem patched on their blazers. The men are staring emotionlessly at the young men with papers in front of them.

“And what trade are you proposing here for us today?” one of the men asked, interlacing his fingers on the table’s top.

Nick peers down at his friend. “Give it to them,” he mutters.

Brandon peers down as he pulls his hand into sight from behind him. In his grasp is the same manila file, the one with Joseph’s trade proposal. He purses his lips as the guilt of betraying his teammate and friend builds up inside him. Yet the hope of his plan soothes him.

With a sigh, he carelessly sets it on the desk. He then lets go of it, immediately catching the file on fire.

The men lean away from the flaming file with fright as smoke, embers, and crackling sounds rising from it.

Nick gapes at the sight; he whirls to his friend. “Monty—!”

Brandon instantly spins around and rushes out of the room. He dashes down the office building’s bland hallway. He spots a left turn coming up to him; he locks his eyes on it.

“Monty! Monty!” he hears Nick cry out to him.

Instantly, a roaring wall of fire expands into view, blocking off the left turn, his main route to escape.

“Shoot,” Brandon mutters between gritted teeth. His mind scrambles as his eyes dart for another escape route. He spots a window, which is displaying the bustling skyline, yards away from him.

He peers behind his shoulder, spotting his friend with a ball of fire rushing between his hands, ready to create another wall of flames.

Brandon turns back to face the approaching window. It’s either being completely trapped, going through the fire with the possibility of having his attire burned off, or completely free falling.

With a deep breath, Brandon spins around to face his pursuer, tearing his eyes away from the terrifying sight of the window, and begins to run backward. He then expands his arms from his side with his ablaze palms facing the window and smashes himself through the window.

Due to the heat and the force, the window gives out, shattering into broken shards of glass, which plummet into the open air along with Brandon himself.

Nick’s eyes fly open at the sight of the broken window his friend threw himself into. “MONTY!” He hurries to the jagged ledge and peers outside in fight.

Plunging perpendicular to the skyscraper with his back facing the ground is Brandon: The sharp, cold winds whip through his air and blast against his back, giving him the contrast sensation of being trapped between two walls of fire. He senses his supernatural energy inside him conjuring and twisting for an ignition.

Suddenly, two blasts of fire explode into view from the soles of his shoes, one on each foot. The force of the blazing flames makes him direct his feet to the ground.

The energy propels him upward, having him shoot parallel to the skyscraper with speed. He darts by the broken window with Nick on the other side, leaving him flabbergasted.

Brandon passes the tip of the skyscraper, spotting the clouds rushing up to him. Before the air begins to thin and his ears begin to pop, he pushes himself backward, directing the pressure of his propellers to head downward.

The building rushes to his right side again and so does his friend. He then flips his legs and raises his head up to change his direction upward. He mentally dials down the strength of the flames beneath him, giving him the ability to float up.

As the smashed window comes into view, Brandon commands the flames to reduce with his mind. He halts in front of the open space, hovering to the rhythm of his fiery propeller as the wind billows through his hair.

Inside, Nick is gawking at the sight of his supernatural-appearing friend. “You can fly.”

“Thanks to one of Dustin's curses.” Brandon crosses his arms.

Nick holds his awe-filled gaze at him. “Whoa... Can you now de-burn the files?”

“I don't think I have that ability. And even if I did, I would refuse to.”

Nick makes a dismal expression. “But our dream--”

“Our dream?” Brandon cuts in with raised eyebrows. “I think you mean YOUR dream.” He jabs his index finger at him. “I never signed up for this.”

“But I thought you wanted--”

“I just want to be with my friends and play hockey,” Brandon explains with meaning, placing his hands on his chest. “I want to be back at the Nest, shoot some pucks with Maxi, Joey, Matt, Ryan, Stu, Bryan, Joe--everyone else, including you.” He drops his arms to his sides. “I've never asked for this.”

Nick responds by gaping at him.

“Don't you want to go back to the good ol' days when everyone had their sanity and normal was normal?” Brandon asks with uncertainty, raising his hand out toward his right.

“I don't think those days will ever come back,” Nick points out gravely.

“Well, I'll prevent them from being pushed back further.” He points toward the ground. “And this is not helping.” He then hugs himself. “Can you trade Maxi back?”

“No.” Nick shakes his head. “That's up to the IceCaps if they want to give him back. We only have control over our players.”

Brandon lets out a depressed sigh, his eyes cast down. “I'm not trading anyone else. I'm not furthering the damage.” He lifts his eyes back up at him. “And you're not gonna trade anyone else.”

“I'm still gonna continue to achieve my dream and you're gonna help me,” Nick states sternly.

“And if I don't?” Brandon turns his head away with his eyes locked on him.

A dark expression sweeps Nick’s face. “You are.”

Brandon narrows his eyes at him with a threat. “Would you trade me if I go against you?”

“No. Never.” Nick places his hands on his hips. “I still know you'll help me.”

“You're a really hopeful guy,” he spits out bitterly.

“Hope for my dream.” Nick puts on a small, innocent-appearing smile.

Brandon gives him a firm nod. “Good luck with that.” With that, the flames beneath his shoes burn brighter and propel him out of view.

Nick gazes upward at his flying friend with disappointment. Disappointment that his best friend abandoned him and that he cannot fly.

Notes

E.18 "The Ones Behind It All"
Part 4/8
Episode 18/20