Young Guns Pt. 6

[bhavna-grint.livejournal.com]

Written by: bhavna_grint
Title: Young Guns
Pairing: Matt Stajan / Kyle Wellwood
Notes: After Canada's loss to Russia in the Gold Medal game
Disclaimer: These boys are not mine, but I wish they were :(

Part one | Part two | Part three | Part four | Part five



Matty's POV

So that was awesome. Nothing like losing the gold medal game because of your own goalie to get your blood flowing, eh? This was by far one of the biggest disappointments in my life. I had fought so hard to make it to this point. To become the OHL’s most underrated player and to make it to the national team? I felt like I was living some one else’s life… But I had gotten too attached to that dream. I could feel the gold medal around my neck, and we got was a silver one. Silver is never gold…

I had made up with Kyle, and that was the bright spot in this tournament, but that was at the back of my mind right now. I had tried so hard, and all I had to show for it was a goal and an assist. I could have done much better. If I had been a better player, maybe we would have won… Maybe I could have scored the GWG… the Gold Medal Winning Goal… All that was in the past now. I couldn’t change what happened, and neither could Fleur… I guess I should just let it go. A shitty result for a shitty game.

I almost broke my stick when I smashed it against the wall in frustration. I kicked the pieces into a pile and threw them out before I went into the locker room and changed up. It was the most dreadful shower and equipment change I had ever endured. When I went back out, there were kids lined up asking for autographs and I faked my best grin and signed whatever they threw at me. I knew that if I were them, I’d be more upset if my favourite players were pissed off when I got to meet them. It meant a lot to the kids, therefore, it meant a lot to me. Never forget where you’re from… my mother had always told me, and it stuck with me. I never thought I had to ever use that saying, but with my ever-changing luck, it came in handy.

After what seemed like hours, I went back up to my room. I ignored most of the other guys knowing that they were feeling just as shitty if not worse, and I didn’t want to add to their misery. I flung away my tie—it was only suffocating me. Goddamn suits. Always made me hot and bothered. Kyle wasn’t back yet… he was the bigger attraction downstairs anyway. If the fans spent hours getting my autograph, then they’d spend days with Kyle. No matter, the point was that I was alone and pissed off.

I paced around the room, trying to cool my mind, but nothing was working. I couldn’t get that goddamn game off of my mind. I grabbed a clicky pen off of the table and sat on the edge of my bed. I stared off at the wall and started clicking my pen. This was a nervous habit that I had had since I was a kid, but hey—it sure beat causing someone harm, right? I was afraid that I would harm someone, I was that mad… We were so close to winning. So fucking close, and we blew it. I guess I should have been happy with my silver medal, and knowing that this was probably the last time my country would call on me to play for them. I mean, who wants Matt Stajan on their team, anyway?

Sitting there, I just clicked and clicked and clicked. I was pretty sure that I was running my thumb raw, but I didn’t care. What good was a thumb if you couldn’t win a gold medal with it? I heard the door open, but didn’t look away from the wall. I assumed it was Kyle, because who ever it was sat on his bed. He sat there for a few moments before moving beside me. I looked over at him and was about to speak, but he put his finger to my lips.

“Shut up…” he said before he shoved me back onto my bed and flinging my pen across the room. I looked into his eyes and could see the same anger and frustration that must have been in mine. Before I knew it, his lips were against mine hard, and I guess I found a way for me to vent out my anger…