As if the knowledge of having to ask my mother to see a therapist isn't enough of a weight on my shoulders, my teammates look at me like I'm a piece of shit when I walk in the locker room. Even Elias, my best friend, ignores me when I sit down next to him.

I wouldn't know why, because I stayed over at Jake's last night. So did Dante, who is now at his job. I'll miss him at practice, but I know this is the best for his sake. 

"What did I do now?" I sigh, half asking Elias and half asking the others, as I start dressing up. I'm trying to not look at their bodies or compare myself to them, and as long as I don't look at anything but the floor, that works. 

Silence. The whole locker room is silent. They're not even talking to each other; every conversation stopped when I walked in. It gives me an uneasy feeling. 

"Guys? I can't solve this problem if you don't tell me the actual problem." Maybe that works?

Nothing. The only thing I can hear is the sound of clothes being thrown on, and footsteps when Justin heads to the rink. Immediately, the others follow. 

With my jaw dropped, I watch their backs as they leave. What the actual fuck is happening right now?

I open the group chat, to see if I missed something important, but that too is dead silent. Then what crawled up their asses and died? 

What's the date? Did I miss someone's birthday? No. I would get a notification of it, and I didn't. We didn't have a game yesterday either, it was Monday. 

Still confused, I head to the rink and skate up the ice. At least Coach is acting normal. 

"Alright, I'll give you a minute to make pairs," he decides to start our practice. Great. Just when everyone is dropping me, we have to work in pair. 

Probably looking lost, I watch as my best friend skates over to Benjamin to pair up. Everyone has quickly found a partner that's not named Alexander, which isn't usual, untill there's only one person that rests. Justin. 

"Not fun, ah? When everyone is talking about you behind your back?" he grins. My desire to slap it off his face is almost unbearable, but if I want the team back on my side, I can't go starting fights. 

"Well, they aren't talking about me. They're not talking at all," I snap back, settling for the satisfaction as his face drops in realization that I'm right. "Well, they are talking about you. Just not when you're in the room."

I shrug, still acting like it doesn't bother me. I mean, come on. I'm their captain. They can talk to me if something's up. 

Then, I start to comprehend it. They don't need to talk to me. They don't want to, because Justin said something about me they didn't like. "What the fuck did you do?!"

With that sickening smile still on his face, he shrugs. "I explained some things, nothing else than the truth. If only you could ask them what, hm?"

He skates away. My hand tightens around my hockey stick as I stand alone, watching my teammates glance at me in a way that upsets my stomach. It wasn't the truth that they were told, I'm pretty sure of that. Nothing that I've ever done could make them look at me like that. 

Then what did he tell them?

There's only one way to found out, and that's waiting until we're the only ones left in the locker room after practice, and kissing ass. 

After a, excuse my choice of words, fucking shit practice, I'm exhausted. 

Unfortunately, I had to pair up with Justin, which resulted in losing all the way. Whenever I would cross someone with a pretty good pass, may I add, they would make sure I lost the puck or that I fell. Even Elias did, without a second glance. 

My mood has only worsened. I'm tired, I'm angry, I'm confused and I still need to call my mom. Truth to be told, the harsh hits lifted my mind for a while, but fun is definitely described differently. 

And now I need to stay behind too, until everyone has left, to find out what exactly Justin told my team about. I just want to curl up in my bed, maybe call Jake, but I'm just not allowed to have a fucking break. 

The door of the locker room stays a little open, to let the steam of the showers leave. I can hear the conversation of Benjamin with Coach, and it makes my frown even more permanent. 

"No, Coach, I can't play on the team anymore if that bastard is on it, too. Have you heard what he did?" Benjamin rambles. 

Coach sounds rather disinterested when he answer with a short no, but my heart is still in my throat. From one day to another, I'm a gossip, an out stander, a piece of shit on their shoes. 

"He raped a girl, got her pregnant, and then got his psycho dad to stalk her!"

Excuse me? People believe this? Couldn't Justin make up something more believable?

"You're a moron, Benjamin," Coach says. I can imagine him shaking his head. "Who told you that?"

"Nothing! No one! I found it out myself!" Oh please. 

Hopeful, I turn to Elias, who's packing beside me. "I didn't rap—" "Benjamin is a moron," he cuts me off. "Of course you didn't. It would be too difficult for you."

And then he leaves. I stand up, calling him him back. "Elias! Could you just explain what I did? I have literally no idea what's going on!"

He stops in his track, doesn't turn around. "Then guess, Alexander. Guess why no one feels like playing anymore. Guess why we won't be playing any games anymore. Guess why we don't fucking want you as our captain anymore!"

I'm fuming now, too. "I don't fucking know! Christ, if I did, I wouldn't be fucking asking you! Use your brains for one time, Elias! Once!"

He walks out of the room without another word. Now Justin is actually the only other person, and he's watching me with that stupid smirk. I kick the bin, needing some tension to leave my body. 

"Now, now, don't get too worked up, Alexander," he sighs, as if lecturing me. I close my eyes, take three deep breaths before I turn around and sit down. I'm not losing my calm. I'm not giving him what he wants. 

"Tell me what you told them. Word for word," I demand. I don't grant him the satisfaction of eye contact. 

"Well, I told Benjamin—" "The others, Justin!"

He leans against the wall with one side of his body, crossing his arms over his chest. "Kneel. Maybe I'll think about it."

"The fuck? No."

He shrugs, packing his bag and heading for the door. I grab his wrist, doubt for a moment. "Just tell me, okay? It's already bad enough like this."

He scans my face for a second, but it's not enough. He has me in his power, and he's going to wring me out. "I said, kneel."

As embarrassing it is, I finally give in and sink to my knees in front of him. At least this will make him talk, and after this is over, I'll be able to laugh about what I'm doing right now. "Fine. Now tell me."

Contentment is written all over his face. "Hm, this is a good start. Thomas? You know what to do."

Perplexed, I watch as Thomas appears out of the showers. He isn't naked, he was just hiding until his leader told him he could get out. I head to stand up again, it's a reflex, and demand on knowing what the fuck is going on, but Justin grabs my shoulder and pushes me down again. 

Then my eye falls on the rope in Thomas' hands. Oh, hell no. 

I struggle against their holds, but it's useless. It's two against one, and as much as I'd like to deny it, they're stronger than me. The ropes tie my hands together, feeling like they just stole my whole freedom. 

"What the actual fuck is this bullshit?" I tug at the ropes, but they don't budge. My anger and frustration grow by the second. Why ropes? I thought we were going to talk. And why is Thomas still here? Why is this happening?

Justin grabs my jaw, smiling deviously as he almost squishes it. I try to shake my head, escaping his grasp, but it's pointless. "The fuck, Justin?"

"Now that you can't fight your way out of here, you'll have to listen. And listen carefully, because I'm only explaining it once. Understood?" His voice is cold, just like his voice. All the mocking and joy from seconds before is gone. 

I nod, glaring at him. I would cuss him out if I could, but unfortunately, my cheeks are being crushed. He smirks in the knowledge of that. It gives him a feeling of power, but I won't let him win. 

"Now, now, Alexander. You wanted to know why they're all furious at you? I'll tell you. We're very confused as to why you did it, but it turns out our captain canceled all our new games, resulting in us being thrown out of the competition. Isn't that sad? After all our hard work?"

My hands tighten into fists. Fists I so desperately want to throw against his face until he doesn't breathe anymore. But they're stuck, and all I can do is glare at him. I have no power anymore. 

This fucking asshole threw us out of the competition, and then continued to go telling everyone I was the one who did it. Granted, I would be mad at my captain too, but not without demanding an explanation first. They didn't even ask me. They just assumed. 

"That's why I suppose you understand the captain spot isn't yours anymore, now, is it?" Justin taunts. I try to open my mouth, to tell him to fuck off, but his grip only tightens. He continues on talking. My ears are ringing, partly with anger and partly. . . no, just anger. 

"If you don't pass on the spot, you don't want to know what happens. Do we have a deal?" He finally lets go of his bruising grip. I move my mouth a few times, trying to undo the damage. As he waits for his answer, I give him a challenging look. "A deal? Fuck no."

Justin turns around to Thomas, who looks up from his phone. He looks bored, but stays because Justin told him to do so. "Leave."

Thomas frowns. "Will you be able—" "I didn't ask you anything. Leave."

With visible annoyance, Thomas raises his hands in surrender and leaves. Now I'm alone with this asshole, who doesn't look like he'll let me go anytime soon. 

That's okay. I may not be able to take it against two, but against Justin? Easy. 

Except that Justin doesn't look pressured to get the captain spot, at all. He just smirks and patiently leans against the lockers behind him. "Do you want me to tell you what happens if you refuse, then?"

"No, I want you to fucking untie me, crawl in a hole, and die," I snap. I'm trying to come to a stand again, but that's difficult with my hands tied to my back. 

He laughs. The bastard actually laughs. "If you don't work with me here, I'll tell everyone the truth. Does that seem alright to you?"

I mean, yeah. 

"I don't think you understand." He shakes his head in fake disapproval. It makes my blood boil. "I never knew you were so dense. If you don't pass the captain spot to me voluntarily, Alexander, and if you don't keep your mouth shut about this, I'm going to tell everyone about your dad."

My struggling comes to a halt. My body stills at that. With a dry throat, I dare to ask, "What about my dad?"

My stomach turns when I see the glint in his eyes. "Don't you know? Your dad's disorder is very bothering, especially to the other people watching our games. Don't you think so, too?"

If I thought my blood was boiling earlier, I was wrong. I'm fucking furious now, seeing a red haze. "He's sick! He can't control his mood swings, asshole!"

A shrug. My dad's disorder gets a fucking shrug. "But people don't know that. And why would they believe you after what you did? They'll believe me much sooner, and I have free play in what I tell them. He's a psycho, and his son gained all his traits? Hm, or, what about him being a murderer, and he switches personalities while talking to the people he wants to kill."

I cannot fucking believe this. "No one would—" "Oh, but they would. Just look at what I told them today, and how easy it went. You're powerless, Alexander, and the only thing you can do is listen to me."