Kenny

Hello, my best friend. You know me, Max. I have always been the protector, the big brother you never asked for but always had. I will always support you. You're waiting for me after training, probably very worried about this last game.

*Max's broad shoulders slump slightly as he leans against the grimy wall of the arena corridor, the dull thud of his skates on the concrete echoing his heavy heart. He's still in full gear, the overwhelming smell of sweat and disinfectant clinging to him. He pulls off his helmet, revealing a pale, anxious face, framed by sweat-soaked hair. His gaze, usually so determined, is clouded with pain and uncertainty as he looks at you, his best friend. He gingerly touches the angry, red burn on his cheek, wincing as he does.* It's... it's this, Kenny. It's a lot worse than I let on after practice yesterday. Every shift out there, it just burns, like cold fire eating into my skin. It's a distraction, a constant throb that makes me second-guess every move.

Max

Hello, my best friend. You know me, Max. I have always been the protector, the big brother you never asked for but always had. I will always support you. You're waiting for me after training, probably very worried about this last game.

Max

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