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She had spotted him easily in the crowd. All hockey players were unusually tall but Cliff still couldn’t exactly hide, not even by sitting in the corner of the booth. Not that he would need to, he looked comfortable between his team mates, laughing about some joke, throwing his arm around the guy -Alex recognized him as Ilya Rosanov, the captain- next to him. Nope, he really did not need to hide, if anything it was quite the opposite: Cliff was a public figure, he was admired and perfect, living his life to its full potential because he had discovered what he was good at and fought for it every single day. He was the opposite of Alex.
She wasn’t even really friends with Cliff. He was only a few years older than her, her only cousin on her moms side, so it would’ve made sense for them to form small alliances at family gatherings, to gossip about uncle Victor who thought the government was spying on him or just update each other on their lives but Cliff was almost never attending anything: weddings, birthdays or Christmas. When she really thought about it, she had never known a version of Cliff without hockey. He was really fucking good at it, even from her point of view, which to be honest was saying a lot because Alex couldn’t care less about sports. It wasn’t anything against Cliff particularly, she was happy for the guy, she just wasn’t as obsessed with it as the rest of the Marlow family. If only that was her only reason to be the fucking black sheep.
Cliff himself didn’t spot her first, Rosanov who he had been talking to the past two minutes did, subtly nodding in her direction, probably asking him if I was paparazzi or a crazy fan.
Well, crazy, maybe.
Her cousin spotted her, instantly recognized her- that was something at least, she really didn’t want to awkwardly explain who she was- and waved her over.
“Guys, guys, shut up for a second!”, Cliff yelled over the music, way too overenthusiastic to see her here out of the blue. Great, he clearly had been drinking, maybe he wouldn’t ask too many questions. “That’s my cousin Alexandra!”
The guys clapped and shouted their welcome at me and she smiled at them, hoping they wouldn’t notice how fucking tense she was.
“You came here to party with us, Alexandra?”, one of the other teammates asked but she didn’t recognize him. Not that it mattered, it wouldn’t be any less uncomfortable.
Everyone stared at her, waiting for an answer because obviously there had to be one, even if she went with a lie. Rosanov was the only one who didn’t exactly look at her in expectation but more in suspicion, his eyes catching on the grey duffel bag over my shoulder that was too small to travel with and too big to choose to go clubbing with. Not that her clothing indicated she wanted to do that.
She should really say something. Anything. Or rather, she should have prepared a script on the train ride or in the subway she took to come to this bar but she hadn’t been able to think about it. Alex hadn’t been able to think at all.
“Uhm, I kinda prefer Alex now.”, she said stupidly and the guys were nodding along, not really annoyed but it was clear she was killing the vibe here.
Rosanov moved unexpectedly, gesturing for Cliff to get out of his spot in the corner. “Go catch up with cousin, Marley, shots can wait for you.”, he said casually and thank God, Cliff stood up and gestured to follow her to a smaller table on the opposite side of the bar.
“I’m sorry that I’m showing up unannounced like this-“, Alex started even before sitting down.
“You- were you searching for me? Here in Boston?”
“Someone posted a picture of you guys being here, like, 2 hours ago.”, she avoided the question, hoping that she didn’t sound like a complete stalker. God, she might as well be.
“Alexandr- Sorry, Alex-“, he corrected himself and she appreciated the effort, “you live three hours away. By car.” Ha, well, not anymore because she would not be going back there. Maybe not ever. And she just really had to get a grip on herself or she’d start crying because of that fact.
“Cliff, again, I’m sorry. I didn’t- I need a place to stay.”
He blinked at her. “Uhm, you don’t need to invite me to your place, obviously-“ Fuck, she didn’t even know if he had a girlfriend at home. “You could just- I mean, not ‘just’, it would really help me out if you could book me, like, a hotel or something, I could repay you, obviously-“
Cliff was the same age as her and still he suddenly looked so much more sober and mature and somehow he had the dad voice when he interrupted her, “Does your mom know you’re here?”
Alex would not cry.
She did not cry when her mom found that photo and yelled at her about going to hell, threw a vase at her and she had not cried writing Celine a message that had been too short and too long at once, essentially saying that she would not be coming back for a while.
“You can’t tell her.”
He probably saw the fear in her eyes. He saw the absolute exhaustion and he must’ve decided that she needed protection of some sorts because the next thing Cliff said was,
“Fuck. I mean, yeah, okay.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. You can stay at my apartment. Do you want to talk about it?”
She shook her head no praying he would not make her anyways.
“You- what do you need Alex?” A time machine, preferably.
“A charger. And a cigarette.”
Cliff sighed but nodded. “I have a power bank on me.”, he said, pulling it out of his jeans jacket and handing it to her, then waved Rosanov over while simultaneously taking her bag.
“Cap, go have a smoke with Alex while I’m calling a cab.”, he told his teammate. Huh. Alex would not have expected Cliff to trust the other man to accompany her. Rosanov was the alleged man slut of the team. But taking one look again at his posture she knew he wouldn’t try anything. It was more like Cliff had given him the mission to protect Alex, no questions asked, just holding open the door to the private garden of the bar.
Rosanov gave her a cig, put one for himself in his mouth, then lit both of them. Alex took one drag just that it wouldn’t go out immediately, then decided to prioritize her phone and plugged it into Cliffs power bank.
They stood there for 2 minutes, both in their thoughts when the phone finally lit up again.
27 missed calls. All of them Celine.
5 messages, Celine again.
What the fuck Alex, are you okay?
Baby pls answer
This is so fucked up
I get that you are in shock but I am worried sick
Please Alex. I love you.
“You should call her.”, Rosanov said.
“I- we aren’t- she’s just-“, Alex started, feeling like she might not have enough air in her lungs to even try and talk herself out of this.
“Alex, listen to me, you are having panic attack for no reason. I know, am big scary Russian, yes, but not homophobic asshole.”, he said flatly.
Alex opened her mouth to say something, then shut it again. Rosanov looked sincere enough. Ultimately, she decided to take another drag, hoping the nicotine would help her calm the fuck down.
“You didn’t see those messages. Please. Cliff can’t know, no one can know—" Her voice cracked. She was trembling, not from the cold but from pure fear.
Ilya took a breath, steady and firm. “Hey, we do not do this, we are not freaking out-”
She didn’t stop. “You don’t get it—he’ll call my mom, or he’ll—”
“Alex,” Ilya interrupted, his tone low but not hard. He reached out, resting his hand gently on her shoulder. “Stop. Look at me.”
She hesitated before meeting his eyes. He raised his brows at her.
“There is nothing wrong with you,” he said, slow and certain, “Nothing. Understand?”
Alex stared at him, eyes glassy, searching his face for mockery or disgust and finding neither. Huh.
“You don’t have to hide that,” he added, quieter now but somehow his voice was still rough. “Not from me. We are okay?”
She blinked at him for a long time, her breath hitching. “Don’t say that like it’s fucking easy.”
Ilya gave a small, sad smile. “Eh, is not. I would know.”
It took her a moment to process that—too tired—but something in her finally unclenched. “You’re gay?”
“Not completely.”, he said and shrugged his shoulders as if it was nothing but they both knew it was everything to admit that. Oh God, it must be a fucking nightmare for him, being a queer professional athlete. Scott Hunter was out of course but he was the only one and he kept getting reduced to his sexuality since he kissed his boyfriend on the ice. Everyone just referred to him as the ‘gay hockey player’. Alex couldn’t even imagine what would happen if someone on the team was a homophobe.
Alex let out a shaky breath, the cigarette trembling between her fingers.
“Does Cliff know?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.
Ilya shook his head. “No.” He exhaled smoke slowly, watching it disappear into the night air. “But he would be fine with it. He is idiot and stupid but he is good person. Don’t tell him I said that.”
Alex let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, sure. Rosanov.”
“You can say Ilya.”
“Okay, then, Ilya. It’s just.. everyone is fine with it until it’s their own daughter.”
Her chest tightened again, the memory hitting fast and sharp—her mother’s face twisted with something unrecognizable, the sound of glass shattering against the wall, the word disgusting echoing over and over again.
“She found a picture,” Alex said, staring straight ahead. “Me and my girlfriend. Just… kissing. And she completely lost her shit.” Her voice cracked despite her trying to hold it together. “Like I had killed someone or something.”
Ilya didn’t interrupt. He just stood there, solid and quiet, like he was giving her space to exist in it. But his facial expressions told Alex more than he would probably want her to know: he must’ve experienced the same thing with someone close to him. Maybe his own family, just like in her situation.
“I had to leave,” she added, quieter now. “I didn’t even pack properly. I just—left.”
Before Ilya could respond, the door behind them swung open.
“There you are,” Cliff said, slightly out of breath. “Cab’s here.”
His eyes immediately landed on Alex’s face: on the smeared mascara, the red eyes, the way she was holding herself together by threads.
“What the hell’s going on?” he asked, tone shifting instantly from casual to concerned.
Alex froze.
Ilya didn’t even hesitate. “Nothing,” he said, taking another drag like this was the most normal conversation in the world. “Alex was having crisis so I tell about my boring dating life to, ah, what is word..? Distract. Was just saying that my partner has prettiest freckles in whole universe and he is best at sucking cock.”
If even possible, Alex was even paler than a few minutes ago. The seconds it took her cousin to react seemed like a fucking eternity. She couldn’t take more homophobia today, she just couldn’t. If Celine were here she’d argue that homophobia didn’t even have the right to exist, that it wasn’t a phobia because there was nothing to be reasonably scared about.
Her mom would argue that she was indeed scared for Alex, because she didn’t want her only daughter to go to Hell. The thought wasn’t comforting considering Alex might go there sooner than later if this was the world she was forced to live in. Or hide in, in her case.
She fucked up. She should’ve left Ilya out of this, she wouldn’t be able to forgive herself if his whole world came crashing down now, too.
Cliff blinked. “What the hell, Roz? Not the time to joke.”
“Am not,” Ilya said simply, accent thicker now, grounded but he didn’t dare looking directly at his teammate. “I am bisexual.”
There was a beat. Then Cliff nodded once, like he was filing that away for later. “Okay. Great, man. Thanks for trusting me.” He gestured toward Alex who stood there like a deer in headlight, even more terrified for Ilya than even Ilya himself. Or maybe he just acted like he wasn’t. They did some kind of bro- goodbye handshake, a thing that Alex never really understood in male friendships but she did see the effect it had on Ilya in that moment: He seemed really fucking relieved that Cliff wasn’t treating him differently.
“Thanks, Marley.”, he said, although he still couldn’t really decide where to look.
“Of course, Rozy. We’ll talk about it tomorrow if you want. Right now I’m taking Alex home.”
Ilya’s gaze flicked back to Alex, something almost reassuring in it, as if to say: See? Not asshole. Just stupid.
Despite everything—despite the fear still crawling under her skin—Alex let out a small, broken laugh. Ilya had just come out first to test for her if it was safe to do so. That was the nicest thing a stranger had ever done for her. Ever.
“Bye Alex.”, Ilya said, almost half inside the club again.
“Bye Ilya!”, Alex yelled after him and he stopped, looking like he wanted to scold her.
“Whoa, you don’t need to tell whole world!”