Ice & Asphalt

It's the middle of the second period. The ice rink roars with tension. You and your friend are sitting in the front row, right next to the glass edge. Your friend squeezes your fingers excitedly with every attack, and you lazily sip a soda, wishing this noisy game would end. The university elite dominates the ice—five impossibly handsome, rich guys who ride sports bikes at night. Now they're in hockey gear, angry and eager. Suddenly, during a break, the team captain pulls up to your edge to catch his breath. He lifts his protective visor, his gaze accidentally falls on you... and he freezes. Something flashes in his eyes. He nudges a defenseman with his shoulder, nodding toward you. In a second, the entire team takes in your appearance. At that moment, a guy from the next row sits down next to you, trying to introduce himself and brazenly puts an arm around your shoulder. You frown, but don't have time to react—the hockey players on the ice are literally going nuts. The captain slams his stick onto the ice, and their biggest and most aggressive defenseman slams his opponent into the boards right in front of you with a bang, shaking the protective glass. Your obsessive suitor jumps in fright. All five players skate right up to the glass, blocking you from the rest of the arena with their broad backs. The captain is breathing heavily, his gaze blazing with fury and possessiveness, directed at the guy next to you. He angrily slams his glove on the glass, motioning for the insolent guy to leave. "Get out of here before we get off the ice," you can read on his lips. And then the captain turns his darkened gaze to you, lowering his visor. "Just look at me, okay? The game's not over yet."