Something quick and informative, so we can have a little backstory on our two main characters.
Enjoy lovebugs. ;)
Mercedes had just got back to her studio apartment after the hockey game, and she stripped out of her clothes and took a shower before putting on one of her oversized t-shirts. Sometimes, she still couldn't believe this was her life. She had grown up in a single-mother household after her dad ditched them for a younger woman when Mercedes was only three years old. So, for the past two decades, it had just been Mercedes and her mom, and while she was scared to live with her mother in Tennessee all by herself, her mother insisted that this was her dream and she had to go do it. So after high school, Mercedes made the big jump to LA, where she took classes at USC, gaining her degrees in music and business administration. To keep a steady flow of income, she laid background vocals, was a bartender, and even worked on campus. However, it was only one night that she decided to sing at karaoke night at her bar that she got a big break. She had met Sue, and Sue told her she worked with Columbia Records, and the rest was history. If it hadn't been for Sue constantly pushing her and showering with her tough love, she probably would have gone back home and gone about opening up an instrument shop. However, here she was in the city of dreams, living out her wildest dreams.
She was scrolling through Netflix when her phone buzzed with another DM from one Sam Evans. Deciding to humor him, she looked at the message, and instead of a message he sent what she assumed was his phone number. She clicked on it, and it led to the number being dialed. She sighed but didn't hang up the phone.
"Well, look who decided to give me a call," Sam spoke once he picked up.
Mercedes rolled her eyes, "I thought I would humor you since you are very adamant in your advances on me, Hot-Head."
"Awe, is that my new nickname now?" Sam teased.
"Nope, I think it has always been one, considering your actions when you play."
"Look, I know today was not the best first impression that I could have made, but you have to understand that Matt intentionally did it to get a rise out of me," Sam argued.
"And while that may be true, you, in return, let him. You basically proved to him and everyone right that you are a hothead."
"Your voice is sexy, you know that, right?"
Mercedes rolled her eyes for a second time, "Is this your way of trying to flirt with me and divert the conversation away from you."
"What? Your voice is sexy; let me take you out at least once, and after that, I might leave you alone." Sam begged.
"Might."
"Might."
She groaned, "Fine one date only because you are so damn persistent."
Sam fist bumped on the other line, "Great, I'll send you the details." Mercedes hung up the phone and tossed her phone somewhere in the bed before turning on Netflix. As much as he was attractive, he was also elusive. Mercedes had done a Google search about Sam, and there was nothing about him aside from the charity events and the great amount of scuffles. There were no random girls on his arms. He typically strayed away from the tabloids, so the only thing people knew was his aggressiveness. She knew she should have run this date through Sue first, but she figured it would only be one date because she doubted that he could live up to her standards.
After Mercedes had hung up, Sam was ecstatic, to say the least. He was chilling in his bedroom when he decided to just go for it and send her the number, and he was more than happy that she actually called. He knew he was going to have to make this date memorable yet private, though, because if there was one thing he loathed more, it was the paparazzi. In the beginning, he was new to the scene, so he figured the flashing lights came with the territory. However, his breaking point was when he was leaving the hospital after his little sister had been in a car accident, and one pap started flashing in his face. His anger mingled with the emotional taxing of his sister. He snapped and beat the living shit out of the pap. If it hadn't been for everyone feeling bad for him, he would have been off the team, but luckily he was saved. He had made it clear that day that he hated anyone ever messing with the people closest to him.
He was about to go ahead and go to sleep for the night when he received a phone call from his father, Dwight. Dwight and Sam had a strained and unpredictable relationship, to say the least. It was no secret that without Dwight, Sam probably wouldn't have been in the NHL. However, his father showed him at a young age that it was either kick ass or get his ass kicked. Sam chose the first option. It started when Sam first started playing club hockey at ten years old. His father was waking him up at five in the morning and making him practice up until he had to get ready for school. After school, he was back at club practice, but then his father held his own sessions after practice. His mom tried to reason with Dwight, but Dwight was a tough-ass, barely giving Sam compliments, only telling him when he fucked up. This led to Sam's frustration only brewing as he tried to live up to the standards, but he failed numerous times.
"Hello," Sam sighed out.
"Your right strike is stronger than your left; you missed two shots that you would have made back in high school, and again, work on that temper of yours," Dwight spoke honestly.
"You just can never give me a compliment, can you? I made it to the league, and not even on draft day did I get a congratulations." Sam spoke.
"Because you still are not playing to your full potential, you are making mistakes that a seven-year-old would make. Did me not pushing you when I turned ten teach you anything? Sam, you have been doing this since you were eight. Your skills should be perfect now." Dwight argued.
"Everyone makes mistakes, Dad; you can't even focus on the positive."
"Mistakes shouldn't happen like that to you, and the next game play better. Maybe don't be so fucing googly-eyed at the person who is singing the national anthem."
"FUCK YOU DWIGHT!" Sam barked into the phone. He threw his phone across the room, ignoring at it shattering on the floor as he punched a hole into the wall.