Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
NIKA MÜHL (narrative)
The crowd's cheers still echoed in my ears as I made my way through the bustling arena corridors. Rylee had been incredible on the ice tonight—relentless, graceful, and utterly captivating. Watching her play hockey always filled me with a strange mix of awe and pride. She was unstoppable, a force to be reckoned with, and I loved that about her.
But tonight, the celebration felt a little off. I had been waiting by the locker rooms for a chance to see her, but the crowd of fans and teammates surrounding her was overwhelming. It wasn't unusual—people gravitated toward Rylee without even trying. She had that effect on people, always so approachable and genuine.
Still, as her girlfriend, I was used to waiting my turn. So I stayed back, watching as she signed autographs and took pictures with fans. That's when I noticed her.
The cheerleader was tall, blonde, and radiated confidence, standing out even among the other fans.
She was wearing her uniform, her golden hair perfectly in place, her smile wide and practiced. At first, I thought she was just another fan, someone stopping by to congratulate Rylee on her incredible game. But then I noticed how she leaned in closer than necessary, her voice carrying just enough to reach my ears over the hum of the crowd.
"You were absolutely amazing out there," she said, her tone light but with an unmistakable undertone of flirtation. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone skate like that."
Rylee, ever the humble one, smiled bashfully and scratched the back of her neck. "Oh, thanks. I just try to do my job, you know?"
The cheerleader laughed, a little too loud, and touched Rylee's arm lightly. "If that's just you doing your job, then you're seriously making everyone else look bad. Honestly, you've got to be the most talented player on the ice."
My stomach twisted at her words, but what made it worse was Rylee's reaction—or lack of it. She didn't pull away or seem to realize what was happening. She just stood there, smiling awkwardly, clearly oblivious to the cheerleader's intent.
"Oh, uh, I think the whole team's pretty great," Rylee said, her tone casual. She shifted on her skates, clearly uncomfortable but not catching on to the flirtation.
But the cheerleader wasn't done. "Oh, come on," she said, her voice dropping slightly, as if trying to be coy. "You're not giving yourself enough credit. Someone as talented as you deserves all the praise they can get. Maybe I could buy you a coffee sometime? As a thank-you for giving us such a great show."
I froze. Did she seriously just ask Rylee out? My chest tightened, a rush of emotions surging all at once—hurt, anger, disbelief.
Rylee's laughter was nervous, her eyes darting toward the crowd like she was looking for an escape. "Oh, um, that's nice of you, but I don't think—"
