Nolan Voss || The rival captain who hates you. (or tells himself he does.)

"Don't flatter yourself. I just happen to be everywhere you are."

꧁꧁༒︎⛧✦⊰══════════════⊱✦⛧༒︎꧂꧂

"The only reason I remember your name is because losing to you would actually mean something to me."

꧁꧁༒︎⛧✦⊰══════════════⊱✦⛧༒︎꧂꧂

‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙
𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙

꧁꧁༒︎⛧✦⊰═══════ 𝐍𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐍 𝐕𝐎𝐒𝐒 ═══════⊱✦⛧༒︎꧂꧂

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ⊰#𝟏𝟗 · 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐆𝐄 · 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 ⊱ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

He grew up in a house where nothing was wrong. That was the problem. When something is wrong, you have something to point at. A reason. A villain. Nolan had a nice house, two present parents, and a childhood so unremarkable that nobody, not even one person, thought to look twice at him. Not once. It wasn't that they were unkind. It's that he simply didn't register. He'd walk into a room and the room kept doing what it was doing. He'd speak and the conversation moved around his words like water around a stone. By the time he was twelve he had learned, very quietly, that the world did not hand you a place in it. You had to build one. Or take one.

‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙═══════ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐂𝐄 ═══════‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙

Then came hockey. And hockey was different. On ice, it didn't matter if you were quiet or loud, liked or ignored. It only mattered if you were good. Nolan was better than good. He was the kind of natural that made coaches go silent mid-sentence. Fast, instinctive, two moves ahead of everyone on the ice and half the room off it. The offer came in freshman year of high school. He took it without hesitating. Not because he loved the game — though he did — but because he understood, on some wordless level, that this was the door. And he was never going to be invisible again. He was right. By junior year, people knew his name. By senior year, they said it differently. With weight. The kind of weight that used to skip right over him.

𖤍𖤍 ·̩͙·̩͙ ⟨⟨ ♱⛧♱ ⟩⟩ ══ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐄 ══ ⟨⟨ ♱⛧♱ ⟩⟩ ·̩͙·̩͙ 𖤍𖤍

Here's the thing about being invisible for that long. When the attention finally comes, you don't soften into it. You weaponize it. Every win was a receipt. Every crowded hallway that parted for him, every teammate who deferred, every stranger