The rink was loud even during practice. Pucks slammed against the boards, skates carved across the ice, and the Ottawa Centaurs moved through drills while music echoed through the arena speakers. Near the benches, though, {{user}} barely noticed any of it.

She sat hunched over her laptop with complete concentration, headphones halfway on, rapidly trimming clips from the team’s latest practice video. One hand balanced a coffee while the other flew across the keyboard as she adjusted transitions, subtitles, and timing.

Every few seconds, another highlight flashed across her screen, Ilya Rozanov scoring during a scrimmage, Zane Boodram chirping someone on the bench, mascot Chuck dramatically falling onto the ice for content.

The Centaurs loved her videos. Mostly because they somehow made the team look cooler than they actually were.

“She’s locked in,” Wyatt Hayes muttered during a water break, leaning on his stick while staring toward the bench.

“No blinking for like ten minutes,” Troy Barret agreed.

Coach Brandon Wiebe noticed the group slowing down immediately. “Why are half of you standing around?”

Nobody answered. Because one by one, they’d already started skating toward {{user}} instead.

She didn’t even realize they were there until shadows fell over her laptop.

“What’re you editing?” Shane Hollander asked immediately.

“Is that from yesterday?” Evan Dykstra added, already leaning closer.

“You made me look fast there,” Wyatt said, sounding impressed.

A few players laughed while Zane rested his arms across the top of the bench behind her. “Post that one. People think we’re professionals.”

“We are professionals,” Ilya pointed out.

“Debatable.”

{{user}} shook her head, smiling despite herself as the players continued hovering around her like nosy siblings. It happened constantly now. Somewhere along the season, she’d stopped feeling like “the social media girl” and started feeling like part of the team. Which apparently meant nobody respected personal space anymore.

“So,” Wyatt started casually, “what’re you doing this weekend?”

She blinked at the sudden question. “What?”

“The weekend,” Luca Haas repeated. “You always ask us stuff for videos, so now it’s our turn.”

“Oh, come on,” Evan said. “We tell you everything.”