Locker Room Cleanout Day

[kirbithan 1,834]

River Harrington stood at his now freshly cleaned-out locker at the arena that the Moscow Menace called home, staring at it as if it was going to open up a portal to another dimension or something. It had been a long season, and to be bounced in Game 7 of the Conference Finals wasn’t how any of them wanted to go out this season.

 

He’d even grown out a playoff beard— or a sad excuse for one, really. It was scruffy and a little patchy in some places, so he envied his friends and anybody who could grow proper facial hair. All he knew was that he was going to shave as soon as he got back home. Exhaling into a quiet sigh, the young defenseman checked his phone, and the screen was lit up from a mass of notifications, and he scrolled through them mindlessly until he saw: two new text messages from: Slava. River couldn’t help the faint smile that curved his lips upward, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he made his way towards the massive double doors of the locker room, careful not to step on the logo that took up the a large portion of the carpet (superstitions never die). 

 

Maybe things would be alright after all.