Work Text:
The hours leading up to the draft announcement were excruciating. Anticipation made Jaysen’s body feel like it was vibrating, culminating in his left leg jumping up and down, probably deeply annoying whoever had the misfortune to sit in front of him. With a bus full of NHL prospects on their way to the draft, however, any nerves were to be expected. As the curve of Ball Arena moved into view, Jaysen pulled out his phone, shooting Mickey a text.
Jaysen: Bus pulling in now
See you soon 😘
Mickey: oh thank god theyre making me shake so many hands mine are gonna fall off
Jaysen: So you're saying I wait and it’s a guaranteed 1OA?
brb slashing a tire
Mickey: this is bullying and im being bullied
Jaysen: Oh always. Bullying works, you know
Mickey: lmao
Jaysen smiled at the exchange as the bus pulled to a stop at the talent dock. He knew the drill. The prospects would be unloaded, paraded past the media to give interviews and provide footage for TV coverage, then finally escorted to their seats to watch the main event. His family arrived earlier with the Royals, a small gesture to keep them from getting hounded by media so they could just enjoy the day. Thankfully enough, most families were pretty much anonymous without the presence of their sons if there wasn’t some sort of family legacy shoving them into the spotlight. Like Terzo’s family. Jaysen expected there would be no end of networks trying to interview Mickey James II on his son’s big day, maybe even a mic’d up broadcast. Hell, they’d probably be trying to put a mic on Terzo like they did with Jack Hughes. He’d seen the draft Mic’d Up compilation video with all of the Hughes’ reactions, and he’s positive NHL network would want to show another star-studded family in the moment. Getting the go-ahead from his terminally anxious boyfriend would be a hurdle, however, especially with neither of them being Out publicly yet. Jaysen’s pretty sure Mickey would overthink the whole thing, be terrified that a “babe” would slip out after his name was announced, some slip up that would make the entire concept riskier than it was worth.
They’d also been talking about Florida holding the number 2 pick recently. Yeah, any NHL team would be great, but after the 2023 Pride debacle and DeSantis’s dedication to eroding LGBT rights, Florida was starting to look less and less appealing. Jaysen had been thinking it over, trying to weigh the pros and cons. Sure, the Staals had refused the jerseys, lied about it, and the team supported them, but the rest of the Panthers went out in the jerseys for warmups. That was better than Minnesota, who was in their 2nd year of skipping the jerseys entirely. However, Minnesota was a liberal state with LGBT protection laws, and Florida was the reigning “don’t say gay” capital of the South. Being dedicated to Hartford until the end of his degree protected Jaysen slightly, giving time for the Staals to retire and political extremism to be counteracted before stepping into the league. Mickey didn’t have that same benefit. No way in hell would Mickey James III be sent to the Panthers’ AHL team in North Carolina, where he’d be marginally more protected. They even discussed pulling a Lindros and refusing to sign with the team, but that would require more explanation than either of them were willing to provide. If Bedard didn’t pull a Lindros on the Blackhawks last year despite their organization’s numerous scandals, there was no chance either of them could defer signing without having to give up a ton of personal info to not look ungrateful, and the Panthers would still hold their rights either way.
On a safety level, though he’d never admit it to Terzo, he kind of wanted Mickey to be picked first and spare him the hellscape that is Florida. Selfishly, for his own pride, he still wanted that first overall spot. Jaysen had worked his ass off to get to the top of the prospect rankings, had seen his family sacrifice time and money and opportunities to see him get here. He wanted to be the first Black player to ever be drafted first overall, and give kids someone to point at and say “he was the best of them”. No shade to Quinton Byfield, being drafted second was historic, but Jaysen wanted first . Even loving Mickey, wanting him to be safe, couldn’t erase the fire that burned in him when he imagined holding up that pointer finger in draft photos and making history.
A TSN interviewer shook Cauler out of his thoughts, and he adjusted his pressed black suit before addressing what he’s pretty sure is Jesse Pollock from Bardown in a party city wig and fake mustache.
“I’m here with one of the most electric prospects of this draft year, Jaysen Caulfield, here to settle some of hockey’s most pressing questions. Jaysen– flame tape or skull tape?” The mustachioed Jesse thrust a microphone towards Jaysen, eyebrows raised.
“Skull tape, all the way.” Jaysen gave a solemn nod, treating the inquiry with the deep seriousness it deserved. “Fits the aesthetic.”
“So talented, and yet so wrong.” Jesse grinned, holding out a roll of tape that looked like it fell out of Guy Fieri’s travel bag. “Take this and you’ll smoke James, no question.”
“Aw, you think I need the help?” Jaysen laughed, accepting the roll. “Here I was thinking my talent would get me there.”
“Nah, it’s all in the style.”
Jaysen offered a quick goodbye before walking down the line. The next group looked more professional, calling out his name and signaling with their cameras. He fielded a few questions from Sportsnet about the Royals’ recent NCAA win, including the increasingly frequent interrogations regarding his future at Hartford.
“I’m proud to have won that championship for our seniors. The entire team deserved it after putting our blood, sweat and tears onto that ice all season. Hopefully we can keep up that level of play throughout these next few years, because I know everyone we face is just going to get better.” Jaysen looked into the camera and smiled as he delivered the closer, knowing it’ll be pulled as someone’s headline. “I welcome the challenge.”
“Do you worry about how being committed to Hartland for the next 3 years will affect your ranking?” Another question that annoyed Jaysen to no end.
“I think teams will see the caliber of development and challenge that Hartland is providing and know that it will only make me better. A large number of Royals have been drafted, and we’re keeping each other accountable for improvement. A few guys on our team were called up during the playoffs last year and have NHL experience already, and have brought in pros for training. I can’t imagine any better place to become a rounded player and rounded person.” The interviewer nodded, seeming to weigh Jaysen’s comments against some sort of internal metric.
“If your development was deemed sufficient and you had a path to the NHL before your degree was earned, would you take it? You certainly have the talent to outclass most teams’ 4th liners even without professional experience.”
“Personally, I’d rather go beyond sufficient. Development from Hartland will be free to the team that drafts me, and my goal is to become good enough for any line they need.” It was a tight line between truth and braggadocio, but Jaysen wasn’t looking to undersell himself on draft day. Anyways, nothing was incorrect about the statement. Whoever drafted him wouldn’t have to pay anything until he signed his ELC, so any development gained at Hartland wouldn’t cost the team a dime. Considering that Mickey, Zero and Kovy might all be in the NHL by next fall, Jaysen would be doing his offseason training with professionals. Thankfully, that answer seemed sufficient, as Jaysen was allowed to move on to the next group of reporters.
Local beat reporters fielded a couple of questions about the closeness of this year’s draft, the unusual situation of having the top 2 picks on the same team, and comparing the depth of various years of prospect pools. A reporter Jaysen recognized from her Bruins coverage asked about his twitter rivalry with Mickey, citing it as “ the hot drama of this year’s draft ”.
“We’ve gotta keep each other humble somehow, you know?” Jaysen shrugs. “Otherwise he’d have to read daily articles about how he’s the next coming of Gretzky, and his mullet just simply can’t compare.” Mickey had insisted that a lack of haircut during the playoffs was the same thing as a playoff beard, only increasing the amount of chirps about having terminal babyface. This wouldn’t even be a conversation if you could grow a single mustache hair, Terzo. Zero had ended the season looking halfway between Radko Gudas and a sasquatch, but had absolutely earned the title “The Italian Stallion of Lip Lettuce”. Mickey, on the other hand, had been sent the Jason Robertson “I’m trying my hardest” clip numerous times with “dis u?” as the caption.
Finally, mercifully, Jaysen made it to the end of the line and into the building proper. Signs pointed the way towards his seat, and he craned his neck to try and spot familiar faces. The Royals were the easiest to spot, right up against the rail a few levels up, dancing and shouting encouragement. Jaysen shot them a wave, happily accepting a “LET’S GO CAULER” shout from Zero in return. Next he saw his family, beaming proudly and gesturing him over. Ma planted a kiss on his cheek, with Dad and Shea pulling him into a dual bear hug. Jaysen laughed, feeling some of the nervous anticipation drain from his body. No matter what, the people in his life loved him beyond words, not that it stopped them from peppering him with praise and support every chance they got.
“Thanks guys, truly. I never would have made it without you.”
“Please, you would have been dazzling them if all you had was borrowed skates and a broom for a stick.” Ma scoffed, reaching out to straighten his tie. “All we did was love you, the talent’s all yours.”
“Loving me is way more important than you’re giving credit for.” Jaysen grinned, sliding into the seat his family had saved for him. From this vantage point, he was able to look over the entire draft floor, watching kids in team sweaters run bags of chips and cups of coffee to tired-looking groups of GMs and staff. Looking around, he tried to spot Mickey in the stands, trying to figure out if there was a chance to see his boyfriend before the main event started. Not spotting him, he pulled out his phone, finding a notification from the guy in question.
Mickey: Where are youuuuuu
“Nerd.” Jaysen muttered, glancing upward and finally spotting Mickey’s curls peeking out in between a sea of way taller guys in suits. He was squinting, probably doing his own crowd search.
Jaysen: 105 fifth row up
Sorry got pulled into too many interviews
Jaysen watched as Mickey looked down at his phone, then back up, their eyes meeting each other’s for the first time that day. They waved to each other, leaving Jaysen bemused with how fast his boyfriend’s hand was moving. Mickey’s dark blue suit hugged him snugly, letting Jayson see the way their workouts had filled out his frame over the past year, the deceptively strong body that pulled them to a NCAA title. Tweets after the combine provided a significant amount of entertainment for the two of them when people realized that Mickey wasn’t a 5’5” twig, but had legs like a tree trunk and an ass to rival Crosby’s. Clips of Mickey in VO2 testing circulated with captions like “Bedard flashbacks 😳” and “he got that CHIHUAHUA in him” all month leading up to the draft. Jaysen’s phone buzzed, and he almost laughed out loud at his boyfriend’s message.
Mickey: You look good
Jaysen: You can barely see me
Mickey: But i still know you look good
Absolute thirstiest man on Earth . Jaysen considered sending a picture back, but the inevitable merciless chirping from Shea made him put the idea on the backburner. Instead, he figured making light fun of his boyfriend would do.
Jaysen: 🙄🙄🙄
😜😜👀😜👀😜
Jaysen swore he saw Mickey blush before his mom tapped him on the shoulder.
“Honey, invite the Jameses to breakfast with us. I want to thank the family of the boy that’s giving you those heart eyes all the time.” She spoke the last words in a hushed tone, careful of the crowd overhearing.
“Ma, stop it!” Jaysen pushed her shoulder lightly, his laugh taking any real admonition out of the statement. “Yeah, I’ll invite them. You sure you don’t just want to gush over Lucia Russo?”
“Two birds, one stone.” Ma pinched his cheek.
Jaysen: My parents wanna do a big family breakfast with your family tomorrow
Mickey: You mean i have to meet your parents with my whole family with me???
You have met my sisters right.
Cauler laughed out loud at the text, imagining the James sisters swarming his parents, trying to see who could tell the most embarrassing Mickey story. No one would escape without seeing the picture of Mickey James II’s Sabres teammates trying to place Terzo in the bowl of the Presidents' Trophy as a baby, or the video of a little Mickey who just lost his front teeth saying “Just like a real player!” and proceeding to play like a goon. Guaranteed embarrassing for his boyfriend, guaranteed delightful for everyone else.
Jaysen: Yeah.
Which means it’s only fair.
Mickey: I guess I can do that.
“We’re on for tomorrow.” Jaysen nodded at his mom, who looked very pleased. “We’ll figure out details after the draft just in case it needs to be a consolation breakfast.”
“Oh, shush.” Ma pushed his shoulder slightly. “What happened to all that ‘it's an honor just to be drafted’ talk?”
“But it’s more of an honor to be drafted first.” The curve of his smile betrayed Jaysen’s teasing. It was second nature to bury those expectations, that hunger to be the best, under jokes that allowed how bad he wanted it to be softened.
“Can’t argue with that.” Ma turned her attention back to the arena floor, where it looked like Gary Bettman was being handed a small stack of papers. Last minute trades, maybe? Despite their draft class being heralded as nowhere near as deep as 2023’s, rebuilding teams were still hungry for early picks. Maybe the Blackhawks leveraging some of their hoarded picks to grab another top 3 pick, god forbid. Cauler hadn’t factored in trades when he and Mickey had consoled themselves with probably being in the same conference. Any anxiety that Jaysen thought he had suppressed came back in full force, and he turned back to his phone.
Mickey: I might puke
Well, at least his boyfriend was having the same experience.
Jaysen: Save it for gary bettman
Mickey: Omgggg no
Worst nightmare
Jaysen: I’m gonna trip up the stairs probably so I’ll share the humiliation
Mickey: There is a big difference between tripping up some stairs and puking on the gd commissioner
Jaysen: Idk I bet you’d get tons of cheers for that
Maybe it would save them from whatever trade was being concocted to make their lives worse. Before he could ask if Mickey had seen Bettman get handed those papers, the man himself strutted onto the stage, seemingly basking in the boos scoring his entrance. Time to see their futures for the next 5, 10, 20 years, depending.
Jaysen: Loser pays for our next date
Mickey: Hope you’ve been saving up
I’m craving steak and lobster.
Bettman begins to greet the audience, praising Ball Arena, expounding on the triumphs of the previous season. Considering how weird of a season it was, with the previous cup finalists starting the season with multiple key players on LTIR and everyone else subsequently becoming injured from overuse when the stars were ready to return. Multiple players reported how frustrated they felt being a good team playing with hands tied behind their backs. Or in this case, hands in casts for multiple months. On top of that, the playoffs had consisted largely of teams without cups, or at least without any cups in recent memory. A bunch of people online had claimed it was rigged, but considering people do that every year, nothing was truly that different. At least this year, Bettman wasn’t speaking French. After the pleasantries were finished, the commissioner looked down at the papers in his hand, adjusting them slightly. Jaysen’s hands started to sweat, and he tried just focusing on the stage.
“I would normally announce the first pick here, but we have a few orders of business to settle. With the Panthers picking at number 2, the 2024 conditional first round pick traded to the Flyers slides to 2025, subsequently moving the 2025 first round pick acquired by Calgary to 2026. That being said, we have a trade to announce.” Boos trickled in from the crowd, as custom, but many seemed halfhearted, with the crowd starting to wonder what big move needed to be announced so early. Gary Bettman cleared his throat, making sure to enunciate his next words. “Florida trades their 2024 first round pick and 2024 3rd round pick to the Ottawa Senators in exchange for Brady Tkachuk with 40% salary retained and the Senator’s 2024 2nd round pick. So altogether, the picks in this round will be made as follows: 1 - Ottawa Senators, 2 - Ottawa Senators, 3 - Los Angeles Kings. Now that this order of business is finished-” Bettman pauses, smiling beatifically at the murmuring crowd. “Let’s get started. The first selection of this year’s NHL draft belongs to the Ottawa Senators. Ottawa, you are on the clock”
What. The. Fuck.
Ottawa having 2 firsts wasn’t something Jaysen had even considered. Especially not such a ballsy move to get them. He tried to parse what Ottawa could possibly be thinking, trading their star forward and captain for picks, even high ones. So many things about this draft were unprecedented. The top 2 prospects in the draft were linemates, the number 1 overall pick would have an immediate, top level teammate in the same draft class. Picking together like this had only really happened before with the Sedins, who the Canucks knew were a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. If the Sens were doing things this crazy to get back to back picks, were they trying to keep chemistry together?
Jaysen locked eyes with Mickey, seeing the surprise he felt mirrored in his boyfriend’s expression. They were on the jumbotron, he knew they were, but nothing mattered more than sharing this second of hope with each other. Maybe, possibly, they could actually continue to play together, wouldn’t be separated by contracts and franchise rivalries and hundreds of thousands of miles. It wasn’t a guarantee– hell, maybe they were just trying to grab Nakamoto for his explosive offense, considering he outscored them both, even if his defense left the rest of his team on the ropes at times. A large left winger to protect their new tiny right wing? Unlikely, considering how many left wings were already in the Sens pipeline. Probably not a goalie, either, considering how the Sens could have probably traded less valuable assets for a later pick and still gotten the best goalie in the draft, since goalies always tended to be seen as a gamble. Images of Mickey, Jaysen and Alex Nakamoto scrolled across the screen, interspersed with clips of each player’s best highlights of the season. Over and over, the audience saw Jaysen’s no-look pass to Mickey that began their 8-0 win over the Lakers and set up his first NCAA hat trick, Mickey’s clutch Michigan goal in the quarterfinals, Jaysen’s brutal one-timer that sent the Falconers’ goalie sprawling in the final period of their Frozen Four championship, Nakamoto’s insane 6 goal game against the Bulldogs. Three minutes felt like an eternity as Cauler adjusted his tie, messed with the space in his mouth missing his usual lip ring, and tried not to put too much stock into the moment. He could feel the sensation of his parents rubbing his arms comfortingly, could hear Shae murmuring a low “come on, come on”, but all he could do was look at Ottawa’s table on the draft floor, with several very serious suited men pouring over an iPad. One man, a player development coach, if Jaysen remembered correctly, pointed at the screen several times. It suddenly became impossible to tell if he had interviewed with any of them at the combine, even though he’s sure he sat down with the Sens management.
A taller suit, an NHL staffer, maybe, tapped on the GM’s shoulder, probably asking what jersey they wanted him to grab. The GM made a gesture, and the staffer walked off, leaving the GM to gather a few papers, still talking to other members of Sens upper management. It took about 10 seconds for the tall staffer to hand the GM the jersey, and finally, finally, they ascended the stage. Michael Andlauer took the mic first, addressing the crowd.
“I know I’m no Snoop Dogg or Ryan Reynolds, but Ottawa has been such a welcoming home to me in this past year. Thank you to the fans, to everyone who stuck with us through this year of changes. Thank you now, to Denver, for being so welcoming and hosting such a fantastic 2024 draft. We are extremely excited to be able to invite two elite forwards into the Senators family today, and hope that they’re a part of our bright future for years to come. Pierre, if you will?” The GM takes the mic from him graciously, jersey folded over his arm carefully to hide the name. This is it. Jaysen looked back over to Mickey, his hands clutching his mother’s sweater for dear life, leg tapping a mile a minute. For a moment, their eyes met, and Jaysen could see him visibly soften, could feel his own shoulders unclenching. The pick is in.
“The Ottawa Senators are proud to select, from the Hartland University Royals, Jaysen Caulfield.” The crowd roared, Shae pulled Jaysen up and into a hug, his mom started to cry. Surreal. Everything felt so surreal as he hugged Shae back, kissed his mother’s cheek, shook his father’s hand, and made his way up to the stage. Clearer than anything, he heard the Royals screaming his name, and looked up to give them a wave. Zero was shaking Kovy as they hugged, Colie held up a sign that looked like it was tracking the Royals’ bets on who was taken first, Dorian was screaming his head off, pressed up to the rail, and Barbie was filming the entire thing on his phone. Jaysen watched Mickey as he walked down the steps to the arena floor, touched by the amount of pride he saw in his boyfriend’s smile. He didn’t trip. He didn’t throw up. Hell, he managed to give fist bumps to a few other prospects on the way down. Gary Bettman was the first person to shake his hand, welcoming him into the NHL. Jaysen stood tall as he accepted the jersey from Pierre Dorion, pulling it over his head and beaming out at the audience.
“How does it feel?” Andlauer placed a hand on Cauler’s shoulder as they lined up for the photo.
“Absolutely unreal. Thank you, so much.” He smiled into the camera, holding up one finger as all the men crowded together. The gravity of the moment really hit him when he began to walk down the stairs to the Ottawa table to make his rounds, and the Sens management stayed onstage. He watched as Gary Bettman stepped back to the mic, the boos starting back up as he leaned in.
“It seems almost silly to announce it again, but the second selection of this year’s NHL draft belongs to the Ottawa Senators.” The commissioner glanced at the Sens management, eyebrow raised. “Do you need time on the clock?”
“We’re ready.” Andlauer nods. “Pierre?” A reporter tapped Jaysen on the shoulder, ready to begin the first interview of the draft.
“One moment, I wanna see who my draft twin is.” Cauler gave the reporter a smile, angling himself towards the stage slightly. “And it would be more fun to interview both the Ottawa first rounders at once, no?” It was a cheap ploy to be able to watch the pick himself instead of being distracted by interviews, but it worked, as the reporter agreed to film his reaction instead. Onstage, the screen showing the draft outcomes had updated, placing Jaysen’s name next to the Senators logo at number 1. As Dorion reclaimed the mic, THE PICK IS IN flashed onscreen, and Jaysen spared a look over at Mickey in the stands. His boyfriend wasn’t watching the stage. Terzo was focused on him. Jaysen shot him a smile that was meant to be reassuring, considering that the 5’5” forward looked like he was 3 seconds away from passing out. Cauler mouthed you got this before refocusing on Ottawa’s GM.
“With our second pick of the first round, the Ottawa Senators are proud to select, from Hartland University in the NCAA, Mickey James III.”
For a split second, it seemed like time was frozen. Was this real? Would they get to play in the NHL together on the same team? No long distance drives, no seeing each other maybe 4 times a year until the offseason? So much anticipation, so much hope, that having the real thing felt impossible. And yet, it happened. Jaysen heard himself cheering before anything else registered, whipping around to focus everything on this moment.
“YES, TERZO, LET’S GO!” Jaysen pumped his fist in the air, disregarding any semblance of poise. The entire arena was filled with deafening cheers as Mickey’s family swarmed him in a huge group hug. Arms covered him up, so Jaysen couldn’t see his full face, but he could see Mickey’s smile between a gap in the James mob. Projected up on the jumbotron, Cauler could see the faces of the other Royals members in the crowd going nuts. Mickey had to physically pull himself out of the circle of love in order to make his way to the stage, smiling with more energy than he ever publicly displayed. Jaysen could feel the cameras on his own face, capturing the moment in perpetuity. Good. He wanted to be able to relive this. Cauler watched with proud anticipation as Mickey shook hands with Bettman, received his jersey from the jersey kid, and posed for his inaugural photo.
“Would you mind if we started the interview now and let Mickey join us when he’s done on the stage?” The reporter gave Jaysen a slightly tight smile. They only had so much time between picks, and as much as he wanted to savor the moment, it wouldn’t be smart to make a bad impression with the media.
“Yeah, of course, sorry for the delay.”
“No worries. Now, Jaysen, what does being the number one pick in the NHL mean to you? How does it feel?” A pretty obvious question, but he couldn’t fault them for it. Most guys would give the same stock answer, but this wasn’t just any moment.
“It feels amazing. Kyle Kane introduced me to hockey when I was a kid, let me see that hockey was for everyone, was a possibility for Black kids who didn’t grow up with hockey on their radar. I saw guys like PK Subban win the Norris, and Wayne Simmonds get the All-Star MVP, and I knew that guys like me could play at the highest level and be respected. Seeing Quinton Byfield be drafted in 2020 gave me hope that I could work hard enough to be seen as one of the best in the draft. He’s the first guy who ever cracked the top 3, and I can’t believe I’m going to get to play in the same league as him.” The actual thought of being able to step on to the ice with guys who made such a huge impact on his life made Jaysen feel giddy. “I’m so lucky, you know? And I want to be that kind of player for another Black kid out there who doesn’t know if this sport is for him. It is, okay? You’re gonna be amazing out there.”
A hand on Jaysen’s soulder signaled Mickey’s arrival, and he smiled over at his fellow Royal. “Terzo! How long were you gonna milk that second place victory lap?”
“I’m just relishing the fact that I didn’t get taken next pick. The Third is way too easy of a nickname, we have to give the guys a challenge.”
“The day we see a James slip to third will be a strange day.” The reporter’s smile was decidedly fake, as if she expected that very thing to occur. Mickey matched the energy, slipping into an Interview Smile rather than the genuine article he had just given Cauler. “That being said-” the reporter gestured to her cameras, making sure they were focused on Mickey. “Does being picked second come as a surprise? Walk us through how it feels to come from such a successful family, only to come second on such an important day.” Jaysen wanted to scoff at the thinly veiled insult, but any resistance here could leave him labeled a ‘problem player’. He could feel Mickey stiffen beside him, and wished he could hold his boyfriend’s hand.
“It’s not a surprise, really. This was an extremely close draft, and both Cauler and Alex Nakamoto were legitimate contenders for the first pick. My name doesn’t guarantee me a spot in this draft.” A perfectly media trained answer, betraying nothing about the stupidity of the question. God, Jayen wished he had an ounce of his boyfriend’s patience. “However, my play on the ice did get me a spot, and I’m extremely proud and honored that the Senators have enough faith in my skill to use the second overall pick on me.” Mickey smiled at the camera, head tilted slightly. “Anyways, we were both drafted. Could have been in alphabetical order for all we know, but our real test will be how we do on the ice.”
“We gotta see if you’re the Eichel to my McDavid.” Jaysen nudged Mickey slightly, breaking the tension.
“And who got the Cup first? Not bad to be a 2OA is all I’m saying.” Mickey grinned. Now that was a real smile.
“True enough. Now, both of you played with the Hartland Royals, giving us a taste of your on-ice chemistry. Jaysen-” Cameras retrained themselves on Cauler’s face. “You have stated that you plan to return to the Royals this upcoming season. Does this drafting change those plans? If not, do you expect to play on a line together again after a few years of playing apart?”
“I still intend to finish my degree with Hartland, but, yeah, this brings some more possibilities up.” Jaysen nods, fidgeting with the hem of his suit jacket. “The Sens will have a solid player in Mickey while I’m at Hartland, but I wouldn’t be opposed to exploring online options if my development feels like it needs that next step. It’s up to management on some level, too. If the eventual goal is for us to play together again, it’s good to maintain that chemistry. But having us develop separately gives them a chance to rearrange lines with more confidence in our individual abilities, giving the team more flexibility.” He shrugged. “That’s all speculation, though. I’m just going to focus on being the best player and best person that I can be, and logistics will come up when they come up.”
“Yeah, I don’t want to talk about potential future team plans when I haven’t even signed my contract yet, it seems like jumping the gun.” Mickey noded. The reporter touched her earpiece, listening for a moment before turning back to the boys. LA had confirmed its pick, and it was time to wrap up.
“Thank you for letting us get to know you, and good luck with the Sens.”
“Thanks, have a good rest of the draft.” They waved goodbye, walking over to the Sens tables together.
“What was that lady even trying to get out of you?” Jaysen muttered, keeping his eyes forward.
“I don’t know. Trying to get material for the spoiled nepo pick narrative, probably. Or like how they made a story of Shane Wright being disappointed that he wasn’t picked higher. Gauging my ego.” Mickey shrugged slightly, plastering on a smile when a Sens executive approached them from the table.
“Are you two ready for the prospect parade?” The older man grinned at them, extending a hand.
“You know it!” Jaysen took the hand, shaking it firmly.
They made their way through the lineup of suits without any issues, and the genuine excitement from management at scoring the top two prospects was palpable. Jaysen could tell they had a lot riding on this move, a huge gamble after trading away such an integral part of their roster. Plans for meetings were made, congratulations and thank yous were exchanged, and the prospects were guided into the arena for the next round of photos and interviews. They completed several interviews together and a few apart, most of which consisted of repeating the same sentiments they conveyed in their first interview on the draft room floor.The most interesting questions tended to be the icebreaker questions intended to get the audience familiar with the rising new stars. Along with Alex Nakamoto, the three prospects posed for the annual “draft winner” picture, which the cameraman joked was staggered by height. By the time they left the media blitz, it was about 11PM, with both of their families having gone home to eat. Jaysen knew he should be dead tired, but the adrenaline from the day made him feel like he was buzzing. As he pushed open the door to the street, Mickey beside him, the breeze tempering the night’s heat, everything felt like it was falling into place. Terzo stretched his arms up, turning to Jaysen as he cracked his back.
“Wanna grab a bite before going back to the hotels?”
Jaysen smiled, happy to open up the night to possibility.
“How could I say no? Someone owes me a steak dinner, after all.”