Curious, I open the app.
And immediately wish I hadn't.
Nova's light has officially gone out. Remember when he was fun? Those days are dead. #Renegades
Nova is officially boring now. Where's the bad boy we fell in love with? This wholesome version is a snooze fest.
I miss the old Nova. The one who partied and didn't take life so seriously. This new guy? Pass.
I scroll further, my stomach sinking with each comment.
Nova's rebrand is fake AF. You can tell he's forcing it. Give us back the real Liam Novak, not this PR-manufactured robot.
Playing it safe isn't playing at all. Nova used to be electric. Now he's just... there. #BringBackBadBoyNova
The comments go on and on, hundreds of them, all saying the same thing in different ways. I've changed too much. I'm boring now. They want the old Liam back, the one who made headlines for all the wrong reasons.
The one who was slowly destroying his career and didn't care.
My chest tightens. I don’t like this accusation that I've lost myself, that I'm not authentic anymore.
But what they don't understand is that the old Liam was the fake one. The party boy, the player, the guy who didn't give a shit about anything? That was the performance.
This version that actually thinks about consequences? This is real.
My phone buzzes with more notifications. The attacks are getting more vicious. They're calling me a sellout.
My thoughts spiral, each one feeding the next until my head is a mess of doubt and anxiety.
But then I think about Avery. About how she looks at me like I'm worth something. About the way she believes in me, even when I don't believe in myself. That's real. What we have is real.
And if some fans don't like the person I'm becoming, if the media thinks I'm boring now, well, they'll just have to get used to it.
I lock my phone and toss it onto the nightstand, refusing to read any more. This is my life. My choice. And I'm not going back to who I used to be just because it made better headlines.
I'm about to text Avery when my phone rings.
It’s Caden again. “Hey.”
“Can you make that three tickets?” He sounds breathless. “Mom wants to come.”
Ice floods my veins. I don’t want her at the game.
“Liam? You still there?”
I force myself to respond. “Yeah, I'm here. Three tickets. Got it.”
“Is that okay? I know things are weird with you and Mom, but she seemed really excited when I told her about the game.”
“It's fine, Caden.” I cut him off before he can apologize for something that's not his fault. “I'll have three tickets waiting. See you tonight.”
“Cool. Thanks, Liam.”
I end the call and stare at the ceiling again, my mind racing. I hate that she gets to me so easily. I hate that somewhere deep inside me, I’m still waiting for my mother to choose me. And yet, I’m a grown ass man.
We'refour wins away from the Stanley Cup Finals. Four games stand between us and everything we've worked for all season.
No pressure.
