Try.

Chapter 1: Such a Pretty Face On a Pretty Neck

A/N: Some, if not all, sports teams will be fictional.

Camila Mendes as Vivian Olsen
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"Well, look at you all dolled up and professional." Tanner gawked as I gathered my things together. I shook my head with a blushing smile.

"Do I really look okay?" I asked. "Or are you just saying that because you love me?"

He chuckled and walked over to me, placing his hands on my upper arms and giving them a small squeeze. "Well, of course I love you. But you look great, babe. You're going to kill it today."

I took a deep breath, looking into his beautiful blue eyes. "I'm so nervous."

"Don't be nervous, and don't let the big kids be mean to you," he said, and pressed a kiss to my forehead. "You'll do amazing."

"Thanks, babe." I smiled, and kissed his lips before heading out the door to start my first day at ASM, a sports magazine that I had been dying to write for since I was in high school. They got to interview the best athletes, see the greatest sporting events, and the popularity of this magazine was unreal. I hoped that eventually I could move up in the game and be able to interview athletes myself, but for right now, I was just the new girl in the office and I had to shadow other employees before I could get out into the real world.

I rode the bus to the company building, and with each minute that passed, the more I wished I could afford a car. When I arrived, I slid my keycard through the machine to let me into the employee door, and headed for the elevator.

"Good morning, Vivian," my boss, Chelsea Benson greeted me as I walked into her office.

I smiled and replied, "Good morning. Do you have anywhere specifically for me to start today?"

"Yes," she smiled, standing from her desk and ushering for me to follow her. "You seem to have very good qualifications in the editorial department. We're going to start you off by editing articles and sending the good ones my way."

"Okay," I replied. Not exactly where I'd hoped to start, but it was better than being stuck delivering coffee to everyone.

As we continued down the hall towards a separate office, she said, "You'll be working in the smaller portion of the editorial department. You'll have some veterans with you to answer any questions that you may have, of course, my office is down the hall as well if you need anything."

"What are you looking for in an article to make it 'good,' exactly?" I asked.

"Well, obviously we aren't really going to care much if David Beckham bought a new German Shepherd now, are we?" She laughed. "It's about the athletes and their professions. Who's new and upcoming? Who's been drafted? What teams are hot this season?"

I nodded as she explained what a good article entailed, and I hoped I wouldn't let my scatter-brained mind get me off track when reading articles that weren't exactly meant for the magazine.

"You'll be sitting here," she instructed, pointing to a desk near a large window that overlooked the Portland skyline. I loved living on the west coast, one of the reasons being the views. I wasn't alone in this area, however. There were two other desks: one to the left of me where a young man sat, and another in front of me, a young woman. "This is Louis." She introduced me to the young man with the most gorgeous blue eyes I'd ever laid eyes on. I shook his outstretched hand before she motioned to the young woman. "And this is Leigh-Anne."

We shook hands as well, and soon, I was already given a stack of articles sent in from various journalists and reporters hoping to get their stories published. If they were lucky, we sent them to Chelsea's department without question. If they were not magazine-worthy, we put them in a separate pile and we had to notify the writer if their work wasn't up to par and they needed to try another route.