Some people have no sense of personal boundaries, especially in regards to celebrities. Ilya could've spent forever blissfully unaware of the details of Rose Landry's personal life, but someone took a video of her talking to her boyfriend, and now it's all over the Internet.
"We've got to get home," Landry says in the video, leaning into Shane's side outside of a chic restaurant in downtown Montréal. "Priscilla needs us. She's wondering where Mommy and Daddy went."
"Poor baby," Shane agrees, and then they get in a cab and the video ends.
So. Shane has a baby. A daughter, named Priscilla (what a horrible American name), a daughter with pretty Hollywood Rose Landry, a baby big enough to be left at home while Mommy and Daddy go on a date. Ilya's seen the X-Squad trailers. Landry's neon blue abs are rock-solid, like she was never pregnant at all. The baby must be six months, eight months, even one year old. Is she talking yet? Was her first word Daddy? Does she smile when Shane holds her, does she laugh when she hears his voice? Is she chubby and sweet, a Kewpie doll with her father's soft brown eyes?
Landry probably doesn't know her boyfriend was sneaking around with Ilya while she was pregnant. While she was on maternity leave. Did Shane kiss her goodnight before he met Ilya in his secret apartment? Did he have an ultrasound picture in his pocket when Ilya tossed his clothes to the floor?
Shane’s indiscretions were his own business. So what, he had a baby? That was fine. People had babies every day. Hayden Pike had, what, eight of them? Ilya could find someone to have a baby with if he felt like it. He just didn’t want to, was all. He was too busy being excellent at hockey. Shane probably wouldn’t be able to relate anymore. Babies took up a lot of time and energy: that was less time for practice. Soon Ilya would have the whole league to himself. He ignored the pinch in his lungs at the thought.
His phone buzzed with a text from MARLY 😎.
lol r u seeing this shit? flashed onto his screen, with a link. Against his better judgement Ilya clicked.
It was a video of Shane, in very plain workout clothes, standing awkwardly in his house. Landry was there. Ugh. Ilya nearly clicked away, until Shane started talking with the tone he used only when he made a joke—why would he be joking at a time like this—
“I’d like to formally introduce Priscilla to the world.” Shane said dryly, and held up—
It was—what was the English word—calico, yes, calico, and very small: its tail was too long for its kitten body and its paws too wide for its legs, and its ears were much too big for its head. It blinked its huge green eyes and meowed, stretching its little legs towards the floor. It was gangly and only half-grown and somewhat ugly and Ilya was so fucking grateful in that moment he nearly passed out.
“Her full name is Princess Priscilla Fancy Pants Hollander Landry,” Shane said. “And she is not a human baby.”
“She’s our cat baby, though.” Landry added, and scratched behind Princess Priscilla’s ears. “She was hiding under Shane’s car all sad and hungry when we went on our second date.”
“We ditched our reservation and went to the emergency vet instead.” Shane said. “If the maître-d’ at Joe Beef is watching this, sorry about that.”
“Please don’t ban us,” Landry joked, and as Ilya watched Shane chuckle at her little quip he felt only marginally less nauseated than he had fifteen minutes earlier. But at least it wasn’t a goddamn baby.
Before he could stop himself he opened up Twitter and typed “next goal I score on Montréal is in honor of new mascot priscilla.”
Then he turned off his phone and went in search of a drink.
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