Hated by Everyone, Chosen by Him

Chapter 5: Unwanted

Liam’s POV

I did not know what to expect here. But if there was one thing I knew, I would not let anyone here control how I played. That was the decision I made the moment I got here. I had spent five years being moved around like I didn’t have a say in anything. Like I was an object they could toss around. If they wanted a problem, I would give them one they couldn’t ignore. If they wanted to see me as the villain, then so be it.

The whole locker room went quiet as soon as I entered. Not the respectful kind of quiet. The kind that happens when people decide they hated you. I kept walking anyway, ignoring the weight of their stares. Pretending I was not bothered.

I stopped near the middle of the room, just long enough to scan everywhere, searching for where I was supposed to go.

“Didn’t think you’d actually show up.”

I ignored the person and just opened my bag.

Another voice came from the side; he sounded amused.

“I thought we were getting a hockey player, not a PR stunt.” One of the players said. It was Noah Reid, the team’s clown.

A few chuckled. But I didn’t respond. That was the easiest way to deal with people like this. Silence. Give them a reaction, and they’d only want more.

I moved toward the empty stalls, scanning for mine.

But I did not see my name.

I didn’t even see a jersey.

Something was definitely off. I had no assigned space.

No clear placement. Just emptiness and curious eyes.

The organization hadn’t even prepared for me.

I wouldn’t be surprised if they hadn’t gotten a place where I could stay.

Ethan Brooks walked up to me. He was the assistant captain. “Now it all makes sense.”

He leaned back against the locker near me, watching me like I was something disgusting.

“What makes sense?” I asked, thinking he was about to say something good.

“Why Raymond ended up with broken legs.”

The room went still.

Raymond?

The guy I was replaced with?

“You did that, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, he definitely did that. Maybe this time, he would use his mom, not his sister, as an excuse.” Ryan Cole said, walking up to me. He was the young rookie and clearly idolized Damon. “Oh, wait, she is dead.”

His words were the final spark. I had tried to keep it in, but they dared to talk about my mom.

“Say that again. I dare you.” I growled.

He smirked.

My fists clenched, and I turned to him, ready to wipe that ugly, smug look off his face.

“Liam.”

When I heard my name sharply called, I paused my fist mid-air.

I turned, and it was my coach; his expression was almost unreadable.

So much for a first impression.

I lowered my hand; my chest was still rising and falling with anger. If they tried that one more time, I would not spare them.

The player who tried to provoke me by mentioning my mother looked almost disappointed that he was not about to get punched. So that was their plan: to try to kick me off the team. Cowards.

The coach’s eyes swept across the room.

“What the hell is going on here?”

“Well, he tried to punch me,” Ryan answered. “Thank God you came on time.”

The coach looked at me. “You. My office. Now.”

Just perfect. I had been here less than an hour, and I was already in trouble.

I grabbed my bag and followed him out, ignoring the stares burning into my back.

The moment we stepped into the hallway, he stopped and faced me.

“Liam, do you have anger issues?” he asked.

“No coach.”

“You almost punched a teammate.”

“He talked about my dead mother.”

The coach did not say a word and just looked at me.

He was different. He did not raise his voice at me or look at me with disgust.

Then he sighed. “I heard what he said.”

I frowned. “Then why am I the only one in trouble?”

“Because you’re the new guy.” He folded his arms. “And if it was the manager who entered, every headline tomorrow will be about how Liam Hart attacked another player.”

I hated that he was right.

He continued, “No one here likes you. People are waiting for you to mess up. Don’t give them what they want.”

“Thank you,” I whispered to him.

“It’s okay, son. I know you are a good kid. And you have had a rough few years, Hart. I get it. But, in here, I do not care about your reputation, and you should not care either. I only care about one thing. Can you play?”

“I don’t know, can I?”

A small smile appeared on his face. And something about that made me feel safe.

“That is exactly what we are about to find out.” He said, handing me a jersey.

Number seventeen.

I guess they actually prepared for me.

“Get dressed. You’re joining practice.”

I stared at the jersey in my hands. It felt heavier than it should. Everything was becoming real.

“By the way,” the coach added, already walking away, “if anyone gives you a problem, beat them on ice.”

I nodded.

“Not with your fists,” he said over his shoulder.

For the first time since arriving, I smiled. Then looked down at the jersey again.

I guess this is truly a fresh start.

I got dressed in silence and followed the others to the ice. The ice was my safe space. Till it was no longer the same with all the boos I heard each time I came to play.

The coach blew his whistle and snapped the thought out of my head. “Since all of you seem to have a lot of opinions about our new teammate, let’s do something fun.” Then he faced me. “Hart, you will play against them.”

A few players laughed.

“The whole team?” Marcus Reid said. He was the oldest player.

“The whole team, apart from Damon.” The coach confirmed.

More laughter followed. One thing I hated was underestimation. They all laughed like I was not a competition. They thought I was exhausted from the flight and was about to embarrass myself.

I tightened my grip around my stick. The look on their faces made my blood boil. All I could think about was the way they mocked my mom and my sister. They were all going to regret it.

“Whenever you are ready, Hart,” the coach said. “First to three.”

Ryan Cole came expecting an easy steal. I slipped past him without much effort. Marcus moved in from my left, another from my right, but I sent the puck between their skates before skating around him. Suddenly, I had open ice in front of me.

I shot. The puck hit the back of the net.

That was too easy. It annoyed me.

The coach tossed another puck onto the ice.

This time, they came at me harder. Two players tried to corner me near the boards, but I spun away from them and accelerated down the ice. A defenseman stepped into my path. He was huge, but I faked right before cutting left, leaving him behind. I shot and scored again.

These were the Vipers?

By the third drill, nobody was smiling anymore. Finally.

The assistant captain, Ethan Brooks, came up to me and whispered something to my ear. “Next time, tell your sister to keep her body to herself.”

Every instinct in me was screaming at me to attack him. I gave him a death look, and the third drill started. Something inside of me woke up. Five years of anger. Five years of frustration. Five years of these people robbing me of my career.

They checked harder, skated faster, and stopped underestimating me. But I played like I had something to prove.

Maybe I did.

I’ve had enough of what they had to say to me. Of how they judged me, as if they weren’t human like me.

My body moved on instinct, my hands remembered things my mind had forgotten. Every turn was sharp. I did not give them a chance to get the puck.

When I scored again, the entire rink had gone silent.

I was breathing hard by the time the coach finally blew the whistle. My chest rose and fell with each breath.

I looked around.

No one said a word.

They all looked stunned.

Then someone started clapping. I looked over to see who it was. It was Damon.

“Now that everyone’s had their fun, I have an announcement.” Coach said.

He looked at Damon, then at me.

“You two will be roommates.”

I looked back to check if anyone was behind me.

Roommates with Damon?

Someone laughed. “Yeah, Good joke, coach.”

“I am serious. Liam's accommodation won’t be ready till the next month. So, till then, he would stay with Damon.”

“No. That’s not happening.” I snapped.

“Yeah, it is, unless anyone here would volunteer to share a room with Liam.”

No one said anything, as if I were some disease.

“I will stay at a hotel then.”

“No, you can’t. Damon volunteered, so it's ok, you two will go along just fine.”

I turned so quickly my neck almost snapped.

“You what?”

Damon smiled.

Does he think this is funny?