Illusions

Loren tossed her keys on the counter with a loud sigh. How much longer was she going to put up with him? She knew that if another offer came along – with equal pay, of course – she’d take it without a second thought. That didn’t seem like it was going to happen, though. The organization wouldn’t allow it; she’d done far too much for them. They’d triple her salary before letting her become someone else’s savior. Her roommate, who was a die-hard Penguins fan, wouldn’t allow it either. It was unfortunate. Loren seemed to be the only person in all of Pittsburgh who couldn’t have cared less about hockey.

“Bad day?”

Rhea Campbell was the epitome of a hockey fan. She grew up with the sport – literally. Her father played in the Penguins’s minor league system for as long as she could remember. Her two brothers followed in his footsteps, both eager to make it further than their father had. On multiple occasions they’d begged Loren to put in a good word for them, for her to accidentally leave a highlight reel in Mario Lemieux’s office. She hadn’t. Their future in the National Hockey League was out of her control.

Loren shut the refrigerator and glared at her roommate, who was sporting an authentic number 87 jersey. “Every day I have to spend with that vile creature is a bad day.”

“He can’t be that bad.”

“You don’t know him like I do, Rhea. He’s the devil incarnate.”

Rhea laughed. Her family had season tickets and she’d met the man in question on multiple occasions. He’d never put two and two together, linking her as his publicist’s roommate, so she had no reason to doubt his sincerity. That didn’t stop Loren from trying to change her mind. She’d come home with horror stories every night, sometimes not until the wee hours of the morning when she’d have to accompany the team to clubs or had to work overtime to right someone’s wrongs. Still, Rhea was jealous that the job had gone to someone who clearly didn’t appreciate it. If it were her in Loren’s shoes, she’d be absolutely enthralled to be working with the young captain.

“I seriously doubt that.”

Loren shrugged, tired of trying to convince everyone that Sidney Crosby was not who he seemed. It was impossible. He had everyone wrapped around his finger and they’d never even met him. They’d defend him to the grave because he was the city’s knight in shining armor. He could do no wrong. Loren didn’t have to look any further than her own apartment to see that. It made her sick to see innocent people buying into Sidney’s bullshit persona. They deserved to know who they were supporting, flaws and all.

As she moved about the apartment, which had been given an incredible makeover when Loren’s paychecks began doubling in size, she realized something: her life revolved around her job. Other than Rhea, all her friends from college and her teen years had gone off on their own, not bothering to keep in touch. She didn’t go out on the weekends, being too tired from her work week to even think about a night on the town. Dating was absolutely out of the question. Guys were instantly put off when they found out what she did for a living. Who would want their girlfriend hanging out with an entire hockey organization 24/7? Even if they were all right with her profession, they always wanted some bogus hook-up that Loren wasn’t at liberty to give them.

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that Loren was dedicated. Just as she told Sidney, she’d worked hard to get where she was. No other twenty-four year old was doing what she did. But she’d also become a victim to the job. At the age of forty she’d wake up and realize she’d thrown away everything to make a professional hockey player seem like a perfect angel. She’d be alone, albeit wealthy, and miserable. Hell, she was miserable now and she still had sixteen years to go.

“What’s for dinner?” Loren grumbled, plopping down onto the couch. She hadn’t eaten all day, being too preoccupied with Sidney’s schedule to throw in some personal time.

“I don’t know. Whatever you can scrounge up with what little food is in the fridge already.”

She scoffed. She’d already looked in the fridge and all that was in there were some random vegetables, leftover takeout, and copious amounts of wine. Loren could make a meal of the wine, but she’d need more than that to not hate herself afterwards. Drinking her problems away wasn’t going to get her a new job; it also wouldn’t get Sidney a new attitude. Nothing was going to change just because she couldn’t see straight and could barely walk. That was her lifestyle of choice the first two weeks on the job. All it did was make her 7AM wake-up call that much more unbearable.

“We should go out,” Loren concluded. The pair used to go out all the time when they first moved in together. It usually came out of their rent money, but the landlord had taken a liking to them and always let them pay late.

“Where do you want to go?”

“I don’t care. I’ll eat the neighbors at this point.”

Rhea pulled a face. “Please don’t do that. I let that scumbag borrow twenty bucks last week and he still hasn’t paid me back.”

“What if I get your money first?”

“That’s fine then.”

Loren smiled. “We should go to Fat Head’s for old time’s sake.”

Rhea nodded, heading toward her bedroom to fetch her coat. They used to spend many a night at Fat Head’s, drinking cheap pitchers of beer and inhaling baskets of wings. It was there that Loren got the call from the Penguins that she was hired. It was also there that Rhea found out the oldest of her brothers, Robbie, had been drafted by the same organization. She’d been waiting for that call her entire life – the entire Campbell family had. Now they played the waiting game, praying for that one break out game that’d put him in the spotlight.

The two girls decided to walk to the restaurant. It wasn’t far from their apartment building and the weather was still decent. Besides, they’d need the exercise for the food they were about to consume. Loren was still working on losing those few annoying pounds she’d gained in college.

“We should go there after dinner!” Rhea squealed as they passed Diesel. The club held too many memories for Loren to ever go there on her own. She’d had to accompany Sidney there on multiple occasions, making sure he kept out of trouble and went home mostly sober and alone. He had a reputation to protect.

“Depends on if I can move after all the wings I’m about to eat.”

Loren couldn’t go anywhere in the city without it relating back to Sidney. Even Fat Head’s reminded her of him. If it wasn’t because of that one phone call, it was because they once held a raffle for one lucky winner to get their hands on an autographed jersey. The chorus of cheers the pair was met with when the other diners saw Rhea in her 87 jersey only made things worse.

This was Crosby’s city. There was no denying that.

&&

All Sidney wanted to do was spend a quiet night at home…by himself. He hadn’t planned on hosting a team get-together. He hadn’t planned to be sitting on his couch watching everyone else have a great time. What made them think this was a good idea? They had a game the next day. They had to be at the arena early in the morning. Why were they drinking beer and playing video games instead of going over tape and getting rest?

“Sid, you gotta relax, man.”

Sidney thought his eyes were going to pop out of his skull. “Are you serious?”

Flower laughed. “It’s a preseason game, not the Stanley Cup finals.”

“Yeah,” Tanger chimed in. “You’re not even playing and you’re freaking out.”

Of course they were going to throw his concussion in his face. Why wouldn’t they? Along with everyone else in Pittsburgh, that was all they had to talk about over the off-season. Being kicked out of the playoffs in the quarter-finals was embarrassing; having to watch from the locker room was even worse. He’d been to the Cup finals before and nothing could ever compare to the feeling he got when he stepped on the ice. Hockey was what he was born to do. Even a blind man could tell you that.

Loren had been adamant about him being on time for his appointments. If nothing else, he was thankful for that. Most of the time he wanted to hole himself in his bedroom and mope his way back to health. That wasn’t going to work, though, and he knew that. She was the one to drag him out of bed and drive him to therapy. Deep down she wanted him to get better just as much as he did. She knew how miserable he was not being able to play or contribute to his team; he wouldn’t have been elected captain if the sport was that disposable to him. Even though he’d never admit it, he appreciated her support.

“Where’s that manager of yours?”

Sid snapped out of his daze, unsure of who asked the question. “Huh?”

“Damn, I guess you really did get concussed,” Jordan laughed. “I asked about your manager.”

“She’s not my manager.”

Jordan raised an eyebrow. “Then what is she? Do you fuck her?”

“What? No. You’re disgusting.”

“You’re honestly saying you wouldn’t fuck her?” Tanger asked.

“She’s a bitch.”

“You don’t need to have a conversation while you do it, Sid.”

“Yeah, but still–”

“No wonder you’re so uptight,” Flower chimed in. “You probably haven’t gotten laid in months.”

Sidney groaned. “Why are we talking about this?”

“We’re talking about this because your manager is fucking hot and you won’t do her.”

The captain shook his head at his teammates and retreated to the kitchen. It was a mess: empty bottles of beer everywhere, a half-dozen empty pizza boxes. They were pigs. He grabbed a bottle of water before leaning against the counter. This wasn’t how the night was supposed to turn out. He was supposed to be watching copious amounts of Netflix, not defending his dry spell to his teammates. He had more important things to worry about, like getting over his concussion and getting back on the ice.

Sidney was sure his teammates didn’t realize how lucky they were. They didn’t have the pressure on them that he did. They were allowed to get drunk in clubs and take nameless women back to their hotel rooms. They could go a couple games without scoring and keep out of the public eye. They could afford an injury like his. Every day was a struggle. He was constantly wondering if he was going to lose his position, if the front office would get tired of waiting for the Boy Wonder and give his C to someone else. Geno deserved it; so did Jordy. They were healthy. He wasn’t.

“Hey,” Flower said as he entered the kitchen.

“Hey.”

“They’re just giving you a hard time.”

“I know.”

Flower grabbed a water and sat on one of the stools under the island. “Bad day?”

“Press day,” Sidney clarified.

“Ah, ceux bâtards.”

Sidney cracked a smile that felt foreign to him. “You guys all like her?”

“Qui?”

“Loren.”

“Ah.” Flower smiled. “They like her body, Sid.”

“Do they ever like a woman for more than that?”

“Nope.”

Sidney shook his head, grateful to have such classy teammates. He was twenty-four. He was supposed to be agreeing with them, not patronizing. But they didn’t know Loren’s interior. They didn’t know how much of a bitch she was or how aggravated she could make a person. They saw her body, not her personality. He was sure they wouldn’t be so fond of her once they did.

He never would’ve imagined that she’d think she same about him.