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@wtfuckevenknows

this was their last kiss before the "we didn't even kiss" scene in vegas. girl i would have been devastated too.

As an adult I think me and all my friends should all have matching schedules and work like 20 hours a week and also everyone lives within 15 minutes of each other why is that so much to ask

“this is ilya, i will never listen to your voicemail” and shane takes that to heart!!

he thinks ilya doesn't ever listen to his messages, so maybe he starts leaving one here and there. maybe they're nothing really, just a note to say he tried to call. sometimes leaving off with "oh, this is shane. by the way" he calls when he knows ilya won't be able to pick up; "hey, uh. i know you won't get this, but i was thinking about you. i miss you. i know you're just in ottawa but... sometimes it feels a lot further. i love you." and sometimes he'll be watching a game and god. he wants to talk to ilya about that play, so he'll leave message about it. shane never really tells ilya that this is something he does.

ilya knows, of course. watches his voicemail fill up little by little. always makes sure there's space for new ones. has ones that he listens to so often that knows them by heart. memorizes the way shane laughs because he thinks no one will hear it, the sound of his breath on the other line between words. he listens to every one of them.

Took a crack at this -- thank you for letting me play with this amazing premise!

Summary:

Hi. This is Ilya. I will never listen to your voicemail. The greeting wasn’t a joke or an exaggeration—it was the truth. Shane leaves messages anyway, confessions to a digital void that will never judge him, never push him away. At least, that’s what he thinks.

Excerpt:

Shane had first heard that message when Ilya disappeared from Boston’s lineup in Nashville. No explanation, just “undisclosed reasons” and a media blackout that meant someone was injured or got arrested. Shane had called from a hallway outside the dressing room, heart hammering, and gotten the voicemail. That flat recorded statement: I will never listen.

Shane had left a message anyway. “Hey, just—saw you didn’t travel with the team. Are you okay? Call me back.”

And… Ilya… had called back, eventually, saying he’d seen Shane call. His father was dead. He was in Moscow. No, he hadn’t listened to whatever boring message he’d left. The greeting wasn’t a joke or an exaggeration—it was the truth. Ilya saw missed calls and responded to those. The actual messages disappeared unheard into the ether.

⋆˙⟡♡ here's to a happy hollanov ♡⟡˙⋆

“they never really been a couple in a normal [setting]. i’m not doing anything awful to them. i don’t want people to worry about that. [the book] is largely nice. i had no interest in writing [shane and ilya] again if i had to drag them both through hell. it’s a good vs evil story.”
“To be fair, though, I don’t think this show could have been made in the US. It was set up at a big streamer before, and they had so many notes, and so many thoughts on what that show could be, that Jacob decided to leave them and get it made in Canada where it was, granted, a much smaller budget, but he was like, ‘I can do the show that I wanna make.’ And I think that’s what people are responding to. And I think in a way, it’s a huge lesson for Hollywood people. This is like a niche show, a niche theme, no movie stars. And it’s a much bigger sensation.”

François appeared on CBS Mornings bright and early today to speak about Heated Rivalry’s success, and we particularly loved this piece of his interview. There’s a lot to be said for sticking by your guns as a creative, to keep authenticity alive in a culture that celebrates conformity.

📸 @cbsmornings

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