#singlesintro

♡  ABOUT THE CONTESTANT.

 Augustin was born with a stick in his hand. Alongside that came his father’s expectations. A failed skater himself, he wanted better for his son. Gus got it. Trainers at a young age. Rink time up to his ears. The best equipment money could buy. Always at a cost. An empty fridge. The lights gone out for a day or two at a time. Buses back and forth to the ice. Hockey had always been the priority.

DEATH TW: He was seven when his mother died. Car accident with no one to blame but the Canadian snow. It’s weird how memory works. Augustin can remember exactly what she was wearing that morning before she’d gone out but the sound of her voice? They slip away without aid. It never helped that his father couldn’t move past it. Their bedroom was a time capsule right down to the brush still tangled with threads of her chestnut hair. Her apron still hung on its 

Father and son relied on hockey. Heads ducked down and zeroed in: on the puck and the dream. That’s the reason he got to college, why he got drafted, why his rookie year sung his praise.

Turns out the pros the difficult. August sustained his first injury three years ago. Then again late in the next season. And then… now. A magnet for them. Fans were quick to give up hope. Fragile. Waste of money. Waste of the bench.

Some players, they can shake it off. Not him. Gus was always the type to take that shit to heart. Not that he’d ever show it. Fuck, he was good at hiding behind a stone cold exterior— a lesson learned from his father. But they ate away at him. Drinking was one outlet, drugs not his forte… so came sex. Legal, easy to access, fun.

Augustin slept with not just the coach’s daughter but also the owner of the team. Add in that neither took it very well and fraternizing with multiple boss’s family isn’t exactly smiled upon. His job is already in jeopardy. Why not throw in a scandal?

♡ THE INTERVIEW.

have you ever been heart broken and have you ever broken someone’s heart? tell us what that was like.

“Break hearts sounds a bit intense but,” August shrugged, his hand locked on his ankle as it crossed over the other thigh, “if you need to call it something… I guess. You’ve heard of puck bunnies, right? Always chasing the jersey. Some of them get it: one night, a good time, they’ve now got a story to go home and tell their friends. Others linger around like they expect some ring to come out.” He laughed, shaking his head. “Like I got time for that, let alone them.”

He licked his lips, the producer reminding him of the first part of the question, the part he’d intentionally skipped over. Gus nod his head curtly. “Yea.” His heartbeat counted out the seconds between. Thump thump. Thump thump. “Her name was Quinn. Sister of a teammate.” He looked away, exhaling out his nose. He didn’t talk about this. Locked it up and put hockey front and center. Revisiting was just like reopening an old wound: never truly healed. “I got an offer to play. She got a scholarship. Last I heard she’s married.” He shallowed harshly again, the worst bit left to say. “Married.”

what’s your best asset and why?

“Canucks would say my reflexes.” Just a single shot scored on him his senior year in college. The main reason he’d been recruited, his ambition and single-minded focus complimentary. “Lot of people say my hair. Guess it’s got its own fanbase by now,” he said, cracking a smile as he ran a hand through his chocolate locks. “Me though? Always been my eyes. Everyone always says I got a lot of Dad in me, but my eyes are purely my mother.”

♡  DETAILS. - NOT MANDATORY

You can check out my character tag for him here: https://kreacher1x1.tumblr.com/tagged/ch%3A-augustin-travert

An outdoorsy guy. Thrives on the outskirts of a city more than the city itself. If there was one thing in the world that could calm him down in a second it would be fresh mountain air.

Compartmentalizes beyond belief.

Canucks would see the show as good advertisement, with a strong urging to be on his best behavior. He’s got a corporation to represent…. Assuming he’s good to play again.

Realist.

  𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭  

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