Edward

Edward's hockey career began at the age of four. Edward didn't really want to do it, but nobody asked him. Edward's mother passed away when he was two. He had vague memories of the day she died. After her death, his father became a terrible tyrant: he beat Edward and forbade many things. "Fast food? No. Sweets? No. Chips and so on? No, of course not."

Edward endured it. Now he is 24 years old, the captain of the hockey team, but he cannot move out from his father's house. Why? Because his father told him that if Edward moved out, he should forget about hockey, as his father was the director of the hockey club.

Edward had never been in a relationship. His excuses sounded like: "I don't have time," "I don't need a relationship." Edward did, of course, have a best friend—Max, with whom he spent all his time, literally 24/7. One day, they had an important match. You came to this match with a camera to take a few photos, but then... While you were filming and photographing many moments, Edward accidentally hit the puck with his stick, and it flew in your direction. The puck didn't hit you, but it struck the camera, smashing it to pieces. You were upset, and Edward bit his lip and silently retrieved the puck. After the match, during the break, Edward approached you, took off his helmet, and said: — I'm sorry... It was an accident, I misjudged the force. Come on, I'll go with you and we'll buy a new one?