@exhibit-no-restraint sent along an awesome prompt requesting Jack falling for the school radio station DJ, and this is what popped out! Thank you for donating and I hope you like it!
Jack Zimmermann considers himself a creature of habit. As a collegiate level athlete with designs on going pro, Jack has to be diligent; routine isn’t just a necessity, it’s a mandate.
This is the reason Jack’s so surly when his 4:30 alarm starts blaring Single Ladies instead of the expected classic rock. At first, he thinks it must be a mistake, so Jack checks the station: 96.9 ‘Radio Free Samwell’.
Sitting in his twin bed, sheets rucked around his waist, Jack presses the heel of his palm against his eye and resigns himself to a new year and a new morning DJ.
Goodbye Journey, hello Beyoncé.
“You’re looking particularly surly this morning,” Shitty greets from the landing when Jack manages to stumble downstairs, half focused on tying his shoes. “You’re usually so chipper before you terrorize the incoming class.”
“Woke up to the wrong song,” Jack yawns, rolling onto his toes to pop his spine. “Trying not to take it as a sign of how the season’s gonna go.”
“Oh, day one and we’ve already got Mister Cynical,” Shitty catches the yawn. “That is a sign.”
Jack gives Shitty the finger.
Hall pulls Jack aside after initial introductions.
“I need you to keep an eye out for anyone that needs improvement. There’s a freshman enrolled on waivers that submitted for scholarship and showed potential; I’d like to give him a shot if we’ve got any weak links.”
Jack casts a glance to the freshman running drills with Shitty and Johnson. They all appear to be decent talent, if rusty from a summer without conditioning.
“What kind of potential?”
“Ex-figure skater. Skinner-type. Speedy winger with some level of contact aversion.”
“Contact aversion? You could tell that from his tape?”
“Never seen so much spin-o-rama in a submission. Skilled, but he was doing everything possible not to get checked. We don’t need the kid but I don’t like leaving talent on the table, especially when it’s already here.”
Jack takes a second look at the freshman, now with something amorphous to compare them to. Johnson catches Jack’s eye and waves. Jack waves back without thinking.
“I’ll keep an eye out.” He echoes, knowing that while the request is somewhat benign, he’s definitely been directed to cull the fat from the incoming class.
Jack blinks awake, not to a high energy tune, but to a soft, accented voice wishing him a good morning. Or, rather, wishing all of Samwell a good morning; but for a brief moment Jack’s bleary enough to live in a world where he’s just that special to be receiving a personal shout out.
The moment passes when the next song begins to play and Jack rolls over, covering his ears with his pillow to escape the synth bop.
Jack wakes to Nicki Minaj and rolls over to grab his phone, squinting at the bright light as he texts the radio line with misplaced irritation. He’s only half awake but he can bitch like the best of them when he needs to.
Jack definitely doesn’t expect to hear a reply so quickly after the song ends.
“Wow. And I thought it was just campus security and my lonesome self out here. This student seems to have taken umbrage with my choice of music this morning and has suggested if I must play ‘pop’ music I sprinkle in a little ‘culture’. Well, mysterious student who has no reason to be awake and this rude at 4:30 AM, I guess I can meet you halfway. Hope you like Mika.”
Jack stares at his radio as the mildly accusatory opening refrain of ‘Grace Kelly’ begins drifting from the speakers. Jack actually does enjoy Mika.
‘You know Mika recorded a live album with the Montreal Symphony Orchestra?’
Jack doesn’t receive a reply, because it’s a one way line, but the next song is the orchestral version of Relax (Take It Easy), the soft rendition so gentle it nearly sends Jack right back to sleep. He slaps the snooze button before he loses his rhythm, and when the radio clicks on again five minutes later, the music that pumps through the small speakers is something Jack doesn’t recognize.
The next morning, Jack wakes to late 2000s Britney Spears.
‘What was that about culture?’ Jack texts blearily.
After the song finishes, that soft, southern voice comes on the air and sighs, “I shouldn’t reward bad behavior, but I’m also certain you’re the only person on campus listening right now.”
The next track is another Mika song. Jack takes the victory and texts ‘Thank you. I like having a routine.’
Three minutes later, Relax (Take it Easy) plays again.
For the following week, at 4:30 AM sharp, there is a song from the same Mika album. Jack’s not even necessarily a fan, but he appreciates the gesture from this faceless DJ with an adorable voice.
Petersen starts to fade around week three. Jack would assume some measure of partying is the culprit, but then he starts hearing the rumors about Yale sniffing around rival schools to poach talent after a disappointing recruiting season and losing several players to NHL development deals.
“Time to give that back-up kid a call?” Jack asks. “Petersen’s itching to bounce.”
“Might be time,” Hall agrees. “We’ll talk to Nathan and if he’s a goner we can bring Bittle in. If this happens, can I count on you to get him up to speed?”
The Jack of a few short years ago would have been insulted by the question, at the loose implication he can’t handle working with a new teammate, but he’s gone through enough therapy to know better, now.
“How much speed we talking?” Jack jokes, relishing the smile he gets from his coach.
For the first time since he’s returned to Samwell, Jack wakes to a song that predates 2005. It takes a moment to adjust, and just like that, the new routine is gone. With Petersen gone, and a new winger stepping up to take his place, maybe it’s a sign of normalcy returning to the Samwell Men’s Hockey team.
Eric Bittle introduces himself, voice light, bearing a familiar accent, and Jack’s first damning thought is that Bittle doesn’t have a face for radio.
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