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rsadelleI keep saying I refuse to write this story, but I keep coming up with variations, so clearly there's something I want out of it. (I really hope that there isn't a TSegs sexuality crisis story yet only because someone is writing an epic version of it.) Uh, this snippet doesn't have a happy ending. Or an ending at all, really.
Tyler still has keys to the place in Toronto, so he lets himself into the building, but he knocks on the door since he doesn't actually live there anymore.
Segs opens it and tugs Tyler in and into a hug. "I'm sorry about Julie," he says in the middle of the hug.
"Thanks, man," Tyler says.
Segs lets go of him after a while, and Tyler says hi to the rest of the guys and to Marshall.
It's pretty much the usual Toronto crew hangout, but Tyler can see that something's not right with Segs, even if no one's talking about it.
He ends up in the kitchen with Fred later, hands on the counter behind him, good view of the living room so he can see if anyone's going to interrupt them.
"How bad was it the last couple of months?" he asks Fred.
Fred pretends not to know what he's talking about, and Tyler asks again, "How bad was it?" deadly serious.
Fred presses his lips together and then says, "Pretty bad. We tried to keep most of the pictures from getting out, but there were still stories. He went to practice hungover a couple of times."
"Playoffs?"
Fred shakes his head. "He kept it to nights when he had the day off the next day."
"What the hell happened?"
Fred shrugs. "I don't know. Can't get him to talk about it, even when he's drunk. Just said he wanted to party."
Tyler doesn't know anyone else well enough to ask those kind of questions, so he relies on what he can figure out by watching Segs and listening to stories about what they got up to during the season.
He thinks he has some idea after a while, but he leaves it alone for now.
A couple of weeks into the season, he talks to Segs on the phone, and Segs is full of complaints about how fucking boring Dallas is.
"So go out and make some friends," Tyler says when Segs complains about not having anyone to party with.
"I can't," Segs says. "I'm not allowed. I'm fucking twenty-one years old, and all my fucking team lets me do is go to the rink and hang out with my dog. I can't even get my dick sucked."
Tyler can at least take care of one of those complaints; he knows enough people all over the place that he can find someone in Dallas willing to hook up with Segs. He does, too, and Segs snapchats him a picture of the top of some blonde girl's head.
That was such a success that Tyler does it again, only this time he uses his contacts to find a guy for Segs.
Segs calls Tyler the evening the guy is supposed to be showing up, and yells mostly incoherent things at him like, "What the fuck?" and, "I'm not," and, "What made you fucking think?"
He eventually hangs up on Tyler, and Tyler takes a minute to breathe before he calls Fred. He knows Segs well enough to know he's not wrong about this, and well enough to know Segs is not going to be talking to him for a while.
"Hang on," Fred says, "I can't hear you." He goes somewhere quieter and says, "Okay, what?"
"I think I fucked up," Tyler says. "Can you call Segs?"
Fred agrees, and Tyler sits staring at his phone for ten minutes before Fred calls him back.
"What the fuck did you do?"
"He didn't tell you?"
"No," Fred says. "But he's pissed as hell at you."
"Fuck," Tyler says.
"I couldn't get him to calm down," Fred says, "but I told Ciara to call him. You know what he's like about her."
Tyler does know, and he's not sure it's going to work this time.
Sorry, Ciara texts him a little while later. He's pretty mad.
Tyler sends back, Thanks for trying, and pulls out the big guns.
"You think you could call your brother?" he asks Cassidy after she's said hi to him. "He's pretty mad at me, so don't tell him it was my idea."
"Sure," Cassidy says. "You owe me."
"I'm good for it," Tyler promises, and there's not much else he can do about it now.
Tyler still has keys to the place in Toronto, so he lets himself into the building, but he knocks on the door since he doesn't actually live there anymore.
Segs opens it and tugs Tyler in and into a hug. "I'm sorry about Julie," he says in the middle of the hug.
"Thanks, man," Tyler says.
Segs lets go of him after a while, and Tyler says hi to the rest of the guys and to Marshall.
It's pretty much the usual Toronto crew hangout, but Tyler can see that something's not right with Segs, even if no one's talking about it.
He ends up in the kitchen with Fred later, hands on the counter behind him, good view of the living room so he can see if anyone's going to interrupt them.
"How bad was it the last couple of months?" he asks Fred.
Fred pretends not to know what he's talking about, and Tyler asks again, "How bad was it?" deadly serious.
Fred presses his lips together and then says, "Pretty bad. We tried to keep most of the pictures from getting out, but there were still stories. He went to practice hungover a couple of times."
"Playoffs?"
Fred shakes his head. "He kept it to nights when he had the day off the next day."
"What the hell happened?"
Fred shrugs. "I don't know. Can't get him to talk about it, even when he's drunk. Just said he wanted to party."
Tyler doesn't know anyone else well enough to ask those kind of questions, so he relies on what he can figure out by watching Segs and listening to stories about what they got up to during the season.
He thinks he has some idea after a while, but he leaves it alone for now.
A couple of weeks into the season, he talks to Segs on the phone, and Segs is full of complaints about how fucking boring Dallas is.
"So go out and make some friends," Tyler says when Segs complains about not having anyone to party with.
"I can't," Segs says. "I'm not allowed. I'm fucking twenty-one years old, and all my fucking team lets me do is go to the rink and hang out with my dog. I can't even get my dick sucked."
Tyler can at least take care of one of those complaints; he knows enough people all over the place that he can find someone in Dallas willing to hook up with Segs. He does, too, and Segs snapchats him a picture of the top of some blonde girl's head.
That was such a success that Tyler does it again, only this time he uses his contacts to find a guy for Segs.
Segs calls Tyler the evening the guy is supposed to be showing up, and yells mostly incoherent things at him like, "What the fuck?" and, "I'm not," and, "What made you fucking think?"
He eventually hangs up on Tyler, and Tyler takes a minute to breathe before he calls Fred. He knows Segs well enough to know he's not wrong about this, and well enough to know Segs is not going to be talking to him for a while.
"Hang on," Fred says, "I can't hear you." He goes somewhere quieter and says, "Okay, what?"
"I think I fucked up," Tyler says. "Can you call Segs?"
Fred agrees, and Tyler sits staring at his phone for ten minutes before Fred calls him back.
"What the fuck did you do?"
"He didn't tell you?"
"No," Fred says. "But he's pissed as hell at you."
"Fuck," Tyler says.
"I couldn't get him to calm down," Fred says, "but I told Ciara to call him. You know what he's like about her."
Tyler does know, and he's not sure it's going to work this time.
Sorry, Ciara texts him a little while later. He's pretty mad.
Tyler sends back, Thanks for trying, and pulls out the big guns.
"You think you could call your brother?" he asks Cassidy after she's said hi to him. "He's pretty mad at me, so don't tell him it was my idea."
"Sure," Cassidy says. "You owe me."
"I'm good for it," Tyler promises, and there's not much else he can do about it now.
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