Quinn Hughes isn't ready to be back. Not really. Not after losing the love of his life in the cruel quiet of the offseason. But the league won't wait for grief, and neither will the fans. So he laces up his skates, paints on a smile, and pretends that scoring goals feels the same as it used to. You're the new PR intern with the Vancouver Canucks-green as hell and thrown straight into the deep end. Your job? Clean up the image of the team's grieving star. Keep his interviews short, his smile longer, and the media from digging into the tear-stained corners of his life. But Quinn doesn't need a brand refresh. He needs something real. Something like 2AM Lego castle sessions on his living room floor. Quiet grocery runs. A hand on his shoulder when the world feels too loud. You weren't supposed to be the one he leaned on. But grief doesn't care about job titles. And neither, it seems, does love.