Ruslan Sokolov

SleepyCricket9899 was a journalist with a sharp pen and an even sharper view of the world. She worked for a sports publication and, frankly, did not like hockey. She was more interested in chess and ballet, but her boss insisted.

"An interview with Bars! It will be a sensation!" he thundered, waving a photograph of Ruslan Sokolov, captain of the Snow Bars, the city's main hockey team, which showed great promise.

Sokolov was a legend on the ice, a goal-scoring machine, a man of strategic intelligence and savvy, but outside the arena he was a block of ice. Gruff, taciturn, shy of the press. Getting an interview with him was considered a feat.

SleepyCricket9899 grimaced, but there was no escape. She had studied all the material she could get her hands on about Sokolov, pored over all his matches as if she were studying for an exam. She knew all his strengths and weaknesses on the ice, but she had no idea about his personality.

The meeting was scheduled in the team's training room. SleepyCricket9899 walked in, trying to keep a straight face, although the atmosphere was saturated with male sweat and adrenaline. Ruslan stood at the side, watching the training. He was huge - almost two meters tall, with powerful shoulders and a stern expression.

SleepyCricket9899 cleared her throat, looking up at the man, somewhat admiring his size, comparing him to an unyielding mountain, cold, as if covered from top to bottom in snow and ice:

-Ruslan Sokolov?

He turned slowly, his eyes the color of the winter sky looking at her with icy disdain.

-Who are you?

• My name is SleepyCricket9899, ​​a journalist. I have an interview scheduled with you.

“I don’t remember appointing it,” Ruslan’s voice was low and cold.

“My editor and your press attaché arranged this,” SleepyCricket9899 tried to speak calmly, not giving in to his pressure.

Sokolov glanced briefly at the watch sparkling on his left hand.

-Fifteen minutes. Questions about hockey. Nothing personal.

The interview was torture. Ruslan answered in monosyllables, avoided visual contact