#1498

with bedmint, everything is soft. years and years of freindship doesn't smooth everything over as much as it makes the rough parts easy to spot, easy to approach. i think we should talk about this. do you remember when you told me this back in bantam? mom asked me about you. minty probably doesn't know connor's routine anymore, but i bet he still knows all of connor's tells, because if there's one thing connor is more than stubborn, it's consistent. van city vignettes, childhood memories softened by that joy you get when you discover you're actually really good at this cool thing you like. and fraser watched connor get better, watched connor get first overall, but that joy never faded. not even when he was traded away from his forever city. because when they're together, that spark comes back

it's taking notes of places in chicago and toronto, then chicago and boston, to take him later. summers are special because they remind him of him. hiking around saint marks, watching the sun set over kitsilano, trying out new food in downtown toronto and fraser reminding the waiter connor's allergic to nuts because the waiter's too busy staring slack-jawed and connor never remembers to say anything. maybe they don't text as often as they used to, maybe they don't call every night like they used to, but there's photos. a lot of photos. i missed you. do you still like this flavour of ice cream? yeah i still play piano sometimes. oh you like baseball now? me too! see you in the world series >:) i bought this because i thought of you. they'll see each other again in the summer, and maybe at the olympics (not this one, but next one. or the one after. or--)

with bedkorch, everything is careful. not quite cautious, not quite anxious, but somewhere in between. slow, definitely. the second most important night of korch's life, he goes online to read articles about himself but the only thing they're talking about is this kid, connor bedard. the most important night of korch's life, the hawks post a video of it and they add text and korch's name is typed in a smaller font that connor's. but maybe it was for the better, because connor was there on the ice as a steady presence as kevin's legs threatened to give out, and they traded smiles after their rookie lap. smiles turned to heated debates over the dub to something that could be bigger. kevin knows he's not connor bedard, but he's learning how to be kevin korchinski, and connor promises him that kevin korchinski will be someone worth remembering too. i think they'll send me down to rockford again-- okay, and? you'll fucking light it up there. give it time.

it's growing pains. it's sophomore slumps. it's connor not knowing how to be there for kevin when his father passes so he awkwardly offers video games. chel nights become a staple. it's kevin not knowing how to distract connor mid-fit after an equipment manager moves his shit so he ropes connor into sewer. connor kicks the ball right into kevin's face and kevin never lets him live it down. they coach kids together, do a podcast, do all the things rookies are supposed to do and kevin's the one watching connor break out of his shell. kevin's scared, about his body never catching up with his mind and the hawks prospect pool swallowing him whole. connor's scared, about the weight of the world on his shoulders and the buzz in the back of his head that threatens to take over whenever he breaks routine. kevin gets sent to rockford and they don't talk about it, but it's okay. kevin watches all connor's games, all his media avail. not taking any shit. connor spins every night into a solid wall. he checks the icehogs socials to make sure korch isn't concussed. slowly, carefully, it'll come back

with bedzar, everything is light. he can't feel anything in his lungs when he laughs that hard. sometimes it feels like he's floating. dude this new tiktok game is so hard you have to scream and the chicken gets hit by a car i keep fucking it up. comedy movies they don't watch, endless memes they quote at each other, party games connor takes way too fucking seriously on the plane. going back to hotels because frankie got connor hooked on big ten ncaam, since he knows connor loves ball and maize pride still runs in his blood. teenage sleepovers never felt this fun. frankie has so many uofm stories, and most of them aren't even funny but he laughs at his own jokes and that makes connor laugh too. was this what connor missed out on? frank's alarm is so fucking loud that it shakes the whole room, but connor likes it anyway

it's breakout seasons, power rankings, foundations of a team that's starting to shape around them. pickles, spence, kaiser, the pieces falling in place with connor and frank at the heart of it. everything is shared, because everything is theirs together. dude dude show me that video from last night, i forgot to save it yeah yeah you know the one. boards, checks, scrums, fuck yous, wicked sharp grins on the bench right after. connor likes every reel he sees of frank crawling out of the brawl pile to hit the celly. frank screenshots connor getting in tucker's face to use as his contact photo. 6 fucking 7, every minute every hour. it's not funny anymore. it's the funniest shit on the planet. october sped by and they're still flying. hitting the ice has never felt as freeing for connor as it has when it's with frank, and frank's shouting first to the crease pays for dinner. they're 50-50 on that, they're 50-50 on practically everything other than their fantasy teams (bedsy's winning. frankie makes excuses) it's locked up. they're not worried at all

yet somehow, they all come down to the same thing, of carving out a smaller space for connor. i think a lot of people equate relationships as growing something bigger, making something bigger, but for connor, having something smaller is more key to his character. bedsy's gone his whole life only existing in big spaces: big skates, big shoes, big block text reading FIRST OVERALL THE NEXT NEXT ONE SIDNEY CROSBY CONNOR MCDAVID SENSATIONAL GENERATIONAL FIRST FIRST FIRST.

but all three of them have given him something small, something that's just for them, a small thing that's easy to count and keep track of and put in his pocket so he doesn't misplace it. photos of celtics games. facetimes about dub brackets. instagram reel notifications saved to look at in the morning.

the spin is back

The Apocalyptic Woman, Albrecht Durer, 1498

Nekonari Tama from The 100 Girlfriends Who Really, Really, Really, Really, Really Love You