Illusions

The ride to the arena was awkward, each of them hyperaware of the tension that’d settled after their latest argument. They argued more than they spoke now. Civil conversations were rare between the two, happening only when they were in the public eye. No one suspected any bad blood between them: not his teammates, not his coach, not her employers. It was her job to make him look good. She would’ve failed at this if they’d figured out the true nature of their relationship. Loren was a good liar; it came in handy every now and then.

Her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, her hopes of being able to teleport away from him vanishing by the second. Pittsburgh traffic exhausted her. They’d left twenty minutes ago and weren’t anywhere near where they needed to be. The clock seemed to taunt them, causing the tension to take on a life of its own. Sidney shuffled in his seat uncomfortably, doing his best to ignore the woman beside him. She was still recovering from their heated argument but he had no urge to speak to her. Loren felt the same.

The cars ahead of her moved slowly, inching their way to the traffic light that seemed perpetually red. A groan escaped her, disrupting the silence that’d settled. Neither spoke after that. Sidney toyed with his phone, replying to messages he’d left unread. He checked up on all the Pittsburgh sports blogs, making sure he was still their number one superstar…making sure Loren was still doing her job properly. Truth be told, he hadn’t wanted to hire her from the beginning. He thought he could do it all on his own. A few media slip-ups later, the front office brought her in without a second thought. They’d been stuck together for months now and it never got easier to deal with her.

She didn’t care who he was. He was just a client to her. No effort had been made on her part to get to know him, to ask him what he was all about or what his story was. That wasn’t why she’d been hired, to make friends. She’d been hired to make him look good, to keep the rumors at bay along with the frenzied media. There was no denying she was good at her job: Sidney Crosby was Pittsburgh’s most prized possession and, as long as he kept up his pristine image, he would be for a long time.

Ten more minutes passed and still no one spoke. Loren was too proud to apologize; Sidney couldn’t have cared less. He had nothing to apologize for, anyway, as she’d been the one to ignite the altercation – something about him having to be at the arena early for an interview that she’d been nagging him about for weeks. He wasn’t stupid. He kept a schedule taped to his refrigerator, pleasantly reminding him of what little alone time he had every time he wanted so much as a glass of water. Loren thought it was easy being Sidney Crosby, the poster boy of the NHL. It wasn’t. It was harder than anything she had to do.

Still, they had to make amends before they arrived. Press would be all over them as soon as Loren pulled into the player lot, harping them for a statement on the upcoming season or Sidney’s status regarding the roster. It was futile. He was Sidney Crosby, the captain. Why would they think anything was going to be different? They typically asked about rumors, which Loren couldn’t really hold them accountable for. If Sidney played for anyone other than Pittsburgh, they’d have nothing to talk about anymore. Their superstar would be gone, off to be someone else’s shark bait. He’d be missed but they’d quickly move on to the next one. Losing Sidney Crosby wouldn’t come about unless it were for an ever greater reward.

“Sidney–”

“What?” he snapped, already bitter that she’d ruined his entire day. Now he’d have to plaster on a fake smile for his soon-to-be audience, having to read about how something seemed off with him and that he must be nervous about his contract the next day on the Internet.

“Try not to be so captivating when you talk to the press,” she barked right back.

“I’ve been doing this for years, Loren. Don’t act like what you’re trying to do is anything new to me.”

She scoffed. “The organization wouldn’t have hired me if you were so capable on your own.”

“No, the organization wouldn’t have hired you if you weren’t sleeping your way to the top. Trust me, I looked: there were dozens of other candidates and somehow I got stuck with you, my fucking savior.”

Loren shook her head in disgust, not even bothering to acknowledge her client’s accusation. She’d worked hard to get where she was at such an age. People she’d graduated with were still finishing internships, not working with captains of hockey teams. To have someone insult her in such a way really made her blood boil. What did Sidney do that was so great? There were thousands of professional hockey players; what gave him the right to act like such a prima donna?

She wanted to think this was temporary, that one day she’d wake up and not hate what she did for a living. She hoped that her relationship with Sidney would improve or at least become bearable. Right now, that was impossible. They’d resent one another forever it seemed. But she still held on to that one sliver of hope. In school they harped about the importance of having a functional, positive relationship with the client. Loren could almost recite the lectures verbatim. Even with her and Sidney’s “relationship” in such turmoil, nothing was going to push her out of her job. The money was too good and she was where she always hoped she’d be by the age of twenty-four. She had student loans to settle, bills and rent to pay. Sidney Crosby being an asshole wasn’t worth a pay cut.

“I worked just as hard as you to get where I am.”

Sidney finally turned to face her. “And where are you, exactly? You tell me what to say. You watch me talk to the media. It’s me on the TV and on the Internet. They couldn’t give two shits less about you and I think that bothers you.”

Loren laughed, not believing what she was hearing. If the kids knew this is who they looked up to – hell, if his teammates knew this is who he truly was – Sidney’s life would be over. His reputation would go down the toilet and he’d be written off as another victim of fame. They’d say the money got to his head; maybe they’d blame it on age. It didn’t matter, though. He wouldn’t be able to come back from it. But having them know who Sidney really was would mean Loren failed at her job, and that was out of the question. She was not a failure.

“If I cared about fame I would’ve gone into a different occupation.”

“Like what? It’s not like you’re good at anything other than being a complete bitch.”

“And what are you good at besides hockey?”

Sidney paused, trying to think up a witty response that’d knock her out of the argument. He didn’t want to talk to her anymore. All he ever needed her to do was tell him where to be and when, who to talk to and who to avoid. Nothing else was important. Her job was to make him look good. That didn’t mean he had to like her and it certainly didn’t mean he had to be nice to her. All he had to do was follow her instructions and that was it. That was the extent of their relationship without the petty arguments and over-dramatics.

They arrived at the arena minutes later, equally nervous. Loren was worried that this would be the argument that blew their cover. Sidney was fretting over the interview, somewhat of a ritual for him. He didn’t like the unexpected. He needed to know every question they were going to ask so he could have smooth answers for them. No one understood how important it was for him to maintain his image. What would happen if he blew it? He’d be the laughing stock of the entire league. He’d be out of a contract as soon as possible. No teams would want to sign him; he’d have too much baggage. He’d be another washed up hockey player by the age of twenty-five.

“I don’t know what they’re going to ask you,” Loren said to him as she parked the SUV the team had leased her.

“That’s fine,” he mumbled in response. He grabbed his hockey bag from the back seat and headed inside. Loren followed behind him, keeping her distance like she always did. Sidney had been right when he said it was him they wanted. Loren knew this and let him have his space. She watched from the background, trying to keep her cool as the press grilled the young captain. Sometimes she thought it wasn’t fair the added stress they put on him.

They navigated the halls with ease, Loren no longer having to stop and ask for directions. It’d been a long first week on the job those many months ago. Now that the team had a new arena she thought it’d be just as difficult. However, after a day or two she memorized the route to the press room and made sure she’d never forget it.

She could hear the excited chatter of the reporters on the other side of the door, causing her stomach to drop. Press always made her nervous. She wasn’t sure what she’d have to clean up the following day or what questions she’d have to deflect. It amazed her how people could twist words so severely. They’d butcher answers to fit their stories, which, nine times out of ten, had already been written. If they wanted Sidney Crosby to look like a piece of shit, they already had to perfect story to back it up. All they’d need were a few quotes to solidify it. The worst part was that they’d then pass it off as the truth.

Sidney sat behind the long table. Dozens of reporters and photographers stood in front of him, firing questions at a rapid pace and snapping as many photos as they could. His eyes burned from the flash and his mind was trying to process their jumbled questions. They finally settled into an understandable pace and he was able to answer them properly. Loren stood in the background with her tape recorder. This saved her the trouble of having to ask Sidney what he’d said in case one of the reporters twisted his words. It also saved her job more times than she could count.

“Sidney, there’s a rumor going around that you’re dating your publicist – is this true?”

Loren thought she was going to faint. Who would start such a rumor? If only they knew the truth: that their relationship had never gone beyond civil text messages and face-to-face arguments. On top of that, who would have the nerve to suggest she would sabotage her career to date him, of all people. Anyone but Sidney.

“I can assure you all that it’s only a rumor,” he answered with ease. He sent a wink their way as the cherry on top.

Sidney was shocked it’d taken the press this long to ask him about Loren. She’d remained in the background the entire time she’d been working for him, never muttering a word during his press conferences. She did her job quietly, as if there was a reason for her to be loud and boisterous and in the spotlight. Loren understood the boundaries her job came with – something any other twenty-four year old may not have. But Sidney learned early on that Loren wasn’t like other people her age, including him. She was mature and had a wise head on her shoulders. It didn’t save her from being a complete bitch, though.

The reporters asked their final questions and the photographers snapped their remaining photos. Once they were finished, Sidney stood from the table and thanked them all for coming. Charming as always. He sent a smirk Loren’s way as he exited the room, letting her know he didn’t need her as much as everyone else seemed to think he did.

Who in their right mind would ever accuse them of dating?