Chapter Text
Unknown Number: Dude, what's up with you you haven't answered a text in like 2 months
Unknown Number: So what? I get drafted and you win gold and suddenly we're not friends anymore?
Unknown Number: Did you get a new phone? I wanted to say congrats, I saw the pic your mom posted on Facebook.
Ilya stared at his phone. Was he translating this wrong? Was he drunk already? It took him a minute to figure out what was happening.
Ilya: wrong number
UN: This isn't Dev?
Ilya: no
UN: Oh.
UN: You might be lying.
Ilya: why would your friend Dev lie to you?
UN: I don't know, to fuck with me?
Ilya: I'm sure that is what is happening here
Ilya put his phone away. It had been a good night. Six games in, five wins. Tonight had already been perfect. He just needed a perfect ending. He looked around for the woman he'd been flirting with earlier. Music pumped loud through the club. He wanted to dance. A teammate slung his arm around his shoulder and pressed another drink into his hand. He downed it, sweet and bitter washing over his tastebuds, and his eyes met the woman's across the room. She smiled at him. He started across the dance floor, but paused when his phone vibrated in his pocket.
UN: I emailed him to get his new number. You're weird.
Ilya: and your boring.
UN: Why are you the second person to say that to me?
Ilya: probably because it's true.
UN: Why are you up so late anyway?
That surprised him. Someone jostled him, so he turned to go find an empty corner, absentmindedly setting his glass down on a table as he passed. Distantly, someone called his name. He ignored them.
Ilya: how do you know I'm up late
UN: You have my former teammate's old number. Obviously, I know what time zone you're in.
Ilya: I could be on vacation halfway around the world
UN: Are you?
Ilya: no
UN: So answer the question.
Ilya: I don't answer boring questions
UN: How is that a boring question?
Ilya: because you didn't ask who's got me awake at 1:00 in the morning
Ilya: pay attention, I will demonstrate:
Ilya: why are you up bothering your teammate at 1am
UN: Former teammate. And he sometimes keeps late hours.
Ilya: are all your friends more interesting than you?
UN: Why am I still talking to you? You're a wrong number!
Ilya: maybe because
UN: If you say you're not boring
Ilya: I'm
UN: I swear to god
Ilya: intersting?
UN: Jesus fucking christ
Ilya: ;)
UN: You never answered my question.
Ilya: you didn't answer mine
UN: I asked first.
Ilya: I'm at a club
UN: On a random Tuesday?
Ilya: yes
UN: Why?
Ilya: celebrating
Ilya: big win
UN: You won something?
UN: Do you play a sport?
Ilya: your turn
UN: I was watching something.
UN: Not to be boring or anything
Ilya: what were you watching
UN: Hockey
Ilya: liar. there are no hockey games this late
UN: I was watching a replay!
Ilya: which team?
UN: Boston
Ilya grinned so wide his cheeks hurt. He was outside now, and he only looked up from his phone to catch a cab. He didn't think to tell Marlow he was leaving. He'd also completely forgotten about the woman who definitely would have gone home with him.
Ilya: You didn't watch the game live?
UN: I was at work when they were playing.
Ilya: Aw, you stayed up late to watch your favorite team! You are a dedicated fan.
UN: They are not even close to my favorite team. I just like to know how other teams are doing.
Ilya: but Boston is best team
UN: No the fuck they are not.
Ilya: they won tonight
Ilya: and standing would suggest they are
UN: I know they won, I just finished watching the replay.
UN: And it's barely the start of the season, so that's not impressive.
Ilya: If you don't like them why did you stay up so late to watch the game?
Ilya: You could just watch it in the morning.
UN: I wanted to see how their game compared to my team's game. I like doing analysis while it's still fresh in my mind.
...
Ilya: who is your favorite team then?
UN: Montreal.
Ilya: booooooo
UN: They also won tonight so.
Ilya: barely.
UN: Admit it, their defense was fucking awesome tonight.
Ilya: mmm it was not bad. goalie saved their asses.
UN: I don't want to agree with you, but you have a point.
Ilya: Of course I do. I know about these things
UN: You know hockey?
Ilya: yes
UN: Huh.
Ilya: what is huh
UN: Just
UN: That's interesting.
Ilya: told you im interesting
UN: Why am I still talking to you?
Ilya: You really just asked that question. Again.
UN: I'm not boring, I do lots of interesting things!
Ilya: like what, text strangers in the middle of the night asking why they're awake?
UN: you don't know me, I could be a thrill seeking adventurer or something.
Ilya snorted at that. He absentmindedly paid the cab driver and felt his way to his front door, eyes glued to his phone. He only tore them away when he dropped his keys trying to fit them into the lock. Once inside, he dropped his keys on the kitchen island, eyes still on his phone.
Ilya: are you?
UN: …
UN: Maybe.
UN: I could be anyone.
Ilya: hmm. okay Mr. thrill seeker.
His phone went silent, but he didn't put it away. Screen still open to the text thread, he set it on the bathroom counter and went through the motions of brushing his teeth and washing his face. He climbed into bed, knowing he should sleep, but not wanting to until he knew he wouldn't get another reply. He waited.
UN: How's the club?
Ilya sighed. He was supposed to be getting laid tonight. Instead he was, for some reason, in bed… alone…texting a wrong number. What the fuck was wrong with him tonight?
Ilya: Their vodka was shitty
UN: Are you still there?
Ilya: went home
UN: Oh. You're still awake?
Ilya: Is hard to sleep when sexy thrill seekers keep texting me
UN: Fuck you
Ilya: ask nicely ;)
UN: Gross. I'm not talking to you anymore.
Ilya sighed. Well, it was fun while it lasted. He locked his phone and put it on the table beside his bed. A minute later he unlocked his phone, went to the text thread, and saved the unknown number as Boring.