I Was Wrong About Heated Rivalry

Our theme for the month of March is “I was wrong about.”

This piece contains spoilers for the show, Heated Rivalry.

I first became introduced to Heated Rivalry through a teaser video. I can’t remember if I watched a part of the trailer because of my algorithm or if it was one of the many trailer ads YouTube loves to shove down my throat. Regardless, I didn’t think much of what I saw.

I don’t think I watched more than twenty seconds of the trailer, but I had already drawn my conclusions. It looked like a low budget Wattpad-esque romance.

I had no idea that I’d just stumbled across gold.

The show didn’t come back on my radar until late November, when my chronically-on-Twitter best friend told me that everyone on the app was losing their minds over it.

When videos started coming up on my feed with people proclaiming how hot the main couple was, my curiosity got the best of me, and I got an HBO subscription.

Many of you have probably heard of Heated Rivalry. If you have, chances are that you’ve heard that the show has a significant ~spice~ level, to quote the ladies from booktok.

But as I told my brother over the phone last week, there is so much more to the show.

For those unfamiliar, Heated Rivalry, based on the novel by Rachel Reid, explores the almost decade-long relationship between Shane and Ilya. As their hockey fame soars, so does their relationship. What starts as convenient hookups transforms into something much more meaningful over the years. And in their minds, something that could ruin their careers.

Shane Hollander is a straight-laced Canadian who loves hockey, but is visibly uncomfortable by all the press and attention his talent brings him. Russian native Ilya Rozanov revels in the attention, hamming it up with reporters and getting under opponents’ skin on the ice.

When Shane and Ilya meet, their differences are clear as day. Even though their chemistry is instantly off the charts, they are polarizing forces, pushing each other back and forth. Shane is shocked by how forward and brash Ilya is, and Ilya teases Shane relentlessly for being “boring.”

Watching the first two episodes is equal parts thrilling and aggravating. It’s exciting to watch the two gravitate towards each other despite their opposite personalities and their extremely public rivalry on the ice. But then good old miscommunication comes in, leading to months of ghosting and a few arguments. Instead of explaining their behaviors and opening up about their personal lives, the two try to keep their relationship strictly physical. Which of course, doesn’t work.

Episode four proved to be the most stressful episode of my life. Shane and Ilya have an intimate moment that goes beyond friends with benefits, and Shane, overwhelmed, ends the situationship.

He then goes on to see the famous movie star Rose, his attempt at having a relationship that falls within the heteronormative world that is hockey.

Episodes five and six took the show from great to perfect. It shattered my initial lazy dismissal by subverting tropes I’d become well acquainted with in gay romance.

Episode five opens with a beautifully tender scene between Shane and Rose. Unlike a bulk of gay romances, Rose is not written as an obstacle standing in the way between Shane and true happiness.

She’s the one who says that it’s clear that a sexual relationship for them isn’t working for him, and her honesty leads to her gently encouraging Shane to open up, and he tentatively comes out to her. Rose is nothing but accepting, and the vulnerable moment ends with Rose insisting that they stay friends.

After this, Shane and Ilya reconnect and finally acknowledge their feelings for each other. Their reconciliation leads to some hard but necessary conversations and now, they seem more gentle with each other.

Their newfound healthy communication peaks in a devastatingly beautiful scene. On the phone with Shane, Ilya is so overwhelmed with the pressures his family thrusts upon him that English is too hard, so Shane suggests that he say what he’s thinking in Russian.

What follows is a breathtaking monologue where Ilya lets it all out, his frustrations, grief, and loneliness, and then ends with a profession to Shane: “I’m so in love with you, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

In the final minutes of the episode, New York hockey player Scott Hunter makes history when he kisses his boyfriend Kip on live television after winning the championship cup. The camera cuts back and forth between Ilya and Shane, both staring at the scene in shock.

This turns out to be the push Ilya needed. Earlier, Shane invited Ilya to stay at his cottage for a few weeks. Though it’d be private, Ilya was hesitant, still not convinced that they could have a sustainable relationship in the world of professional hockey.

Now that Scott has made it impossible for people to not recognize the presence of queer men in hockey, Ilya calls Shane right after the kiss.

Where episode five was a launch into vulnerability and trust, episode six is a beautiful, fluff-filled exploration into Shane and Ilya allowing themselves to be unapologetically in love with each other, even if it’s in the privacy of Shane’s cottage.

The cottage acts as a sturdy foundation for their love. They’re not bouncing between hotel rooms for nights at a time but staying in the same place, enjoying each other’s company. They’re continuing to get to know every aspect of each other, and they’re also using the cottage to plan their future. It’s the perfect place for them to confess their love to each other.

After a surprisingly pleasant scene between Ilya and Shane and Shane’s parents, who find out about the two of them, the show ends with a long shot of Ilya and Shane driving back to the cottage, all smiles and gentle touches.

Heated Rivalry does not indulge in the toxic tropes that I’ve seen time and time again in shows, webcomics, and novels. Shane and Ilya never shove each other against lockers or take advantage of the other’s vulnerability. There’s no skewed power dynamics, no romanticization of nonconsensual behavior.

There is still a heavy lack of communication, moments where you wanna pull your hair out and scream, but the mess feels as real as the effort the two men eventually put into building a romantic relationship.