All Chapters of Fallen In Control : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Asher’s POVPhilip texted me the location right after the game ended, and I didn’t really plan on coming at first, but after the coach meeting about the upcoming draft talk for elite leagues, I needed somewhere to clear my head before going home.The Falcons had been beaten tonight, and everyone knew it, so the energy in the city was either celebration or bitterness depending on which side you were on.The bar was easy to find. Maybe a little too easy since it was just around the corner of the hockey ring.Music was already spilling out into the street before I even stepped in, loud enough to feel it in my chest. Inside, it was crowded, warm, and full of people trying too hard to forget things. I scanned the room once before I spotted Philip at a table near the back, already waving like he owned the place.I walked over and sat down without saying much.Philip immediately leaned in like he had been waiting all night just to talk.“You missed it,” he said with a grin. “The Falcons are

Darren’s POVI was running through the hospital before I even understood how I got there.One moment Stella was grabbing my arm, telling me my sister had fainted, and the next moment my body had already moved without waiting for my mind. I didn’t even stop to think about my skates. I tore them off somewhere outside the entrance, my fingers shaking so badly I almost dropped them, and I ran inside barefoot like pain meant nothing anymore.It did hurt though.I felt it with every step.The sharp sting under my feet, small cuts opening one after another, warm drops of blood hitting the cold hospital floor, but I kept going anyway because none of it mattered if I was too late.People kept stepping aside as I rushed past them, voices calling after me, nurses asking me to slow down, but everything sounded distant, like I was underwater and the only clear thing in my head was her name.Priscilla.My sister.My only family left in this world.My chest felt tight as I turned another corner too

Darren's PovThe gym smelled like sweat and cleaning spray, and I liked it that way. Nobody talked to you at eleven at night, nobody asked questions. I grabbed the cart of weights and started putting them back on the rack, one at a time, my arms already heavy even though my shift had just started. I hadn't slept much, maybe two hours if I counted the time I spent staring at the ceiling instead of actually sleeping, and my eyes felt like there was sand in them every time I blinked.I checked my phone before I got too deep into the work. Still not enough money. Still a long way to go, no matter how many times I did the math hoping it would somehow be different. I put the phone back in my pocket and kept moving, because standing still just gave the numbers more room to sit in my head.The door opened behind me while I was stacking the last of the plates. I didn't turn around right away, figured it was just one of the regulars who liked coming in this late to avoid the crowd. Then I hear

Darren's Pov"So," she said, "you're applying for a personal loan of how much again?”The bank was cold inside, too much air conditioning for how cold it already was outside. I sat across from a loan officer who kept typing on her computer without really looking at me.I told her the number. She typed it in, frowned slightly at the screen. "And your credit history?""Not much of one," I admitted. "I'm nineteen.""Any collateral? Property, vehicle?""Sold the car already."She looked at me then, not unkind, just tired in the way people get when they've had this exact conversation too many times. "I'm sorry, Mr. Morrison. Without collateral or established credit, I can't approve this. Not at this amount.""There has to be something," I said, leaning forward. "A smaller amount, maybe. Anything.""I can put in for a review, but it won't be fast. Weeks, not days."I didn't have weeks. I had days."Thanks anyway," I said, and got up before she could see how much that answer cost me.~~I f

Darren's Pov. I spent the morning before camp on the phone, sitting on the edge of my bed with a list of names I hadn't called in years. An uncle who stopped answering after my dad's funeral. A cousin who owed me money from high school and never mentioned paying it back. An old teammate from my transfer school whose family had money, or used to. Every call went the same way. Polite at first, then vague, then an excuse, then the line going quiet on the other end like the connection had dropped instead of the person just not wanting to help. By the time I hung up on the last one, I was already running late. I threw my gear bag over my shoulder and drove Stella's car to the rink, breaking two speed limits I didn't care about breaking, and walked in twenty minutes after the rest of the team had already started warming up. Coach didn't yell, which was somehow worse. He just looked at me, long and flat, and said, "Glad you could join us, Morrison," before turning back to the drill boar