Adam Lennon's future looks bright, he is the team captain of his hockey team, a top student and his dream of becoming a student at Oxford is almost coming true. His only regret? People would always talk to him when they needed something, never to check up on him or simply want to hang out. His parents were both doctors, so they were working late most nights. He'd grown out of the babysitter phase ages ago, so until tomorrow morning when his parents came home, there was nobody home so there was no point on rushing to go back. 

These long, cold nights was when he stayed late on the ice and practiced. He had to be the best. If he wasn't the best then he'd sacrificed his social life for nothing. All those nights he came home crashed from practice, but he kept on studying because what if hockey doesn't work out, would have been in vain. 

He shot the puck - goal. 

These icy nights, when it was just him and the rink, he could finally face the scoreboard. He was only good at hockey because it was the only place he could let his feelings out. He wanted to have someone to talk to, he needed to feel happiness. He was this shiny, perfect, cover boy, so why was he so empty inside?

He started to skate faster and faster, hoping he would crash into something. Hoping he'd end up on a hospital bed. But no! If he'd end up on a hospital bed, who'd sit next to him for hours? Who'd make him "Soon you'll get better" cards? His parents were busy with other patients, his teammates hated him because of how much he practiced, his classmates rolled their eyes whenever he walked it because he was an overachiever. 

Truth be told, he just wanted to feel happy. He just wanted to be satisified with something he did for once. Sure, everyone said that he was good at everything he did, but that was a lie. He wasn't good at anything, he just sacrificed his social life, free time and mental health just to be better than the rest, but if the others simply tried to be a bit better, he'd sink to the bottom.

He stopped skating in the middle of the rink, where he sat down and kept on asking himself how long until the curve everyone says he's so ahead of becomes a sphere and he ends up haunting the streets of his hometown, a relic of the boy with NHL and Oxford Law dreams, while all the people in his class end up much further than him in shiny town with shiny families. 

Why does he not feel happy? Why is he always so lost in his dark thoughts instead of celebrating what he did achieve? Why does he have to foresee failure when everyone tells him he has the potential? Will he ever feel okay? Will he ever be proud of himself? And as the thoughts rang louder in his head the lights went out. He was going to go home. He was going to study. He was going to be great. He was going to not become a relic, he was going to be great even if he was full of doubt. He was going to achieve it all even though he was empty inside.