You moved to Anaheim at a young age, growing up with a dad who coached the Anaheim Ducks. You had privileges.

You loved hockey, you were obsessed with it--you got a new jersey every birthday and Christmas, new skates, new sticks, everything.

hell, your whole room was filled with Anaheim Ducks shit, photos of players, and since your dad let you hang around with them, it was fun.

now you were the head of social media. people online had said that you gotten the job because your dad was head coach, but you didn’t care.

it was your first day, and one of the girls who would be on the social team with you was showing you around the rink. as if you hadn’t been there before. the team was practicing, and you sat and watched. one of their new players, roger, had caught your eye. he was cute, and pretty good at the game. and you caught his eye too. “yo who’s that?” he said to one of his teammates. the teammate looked over, “coaches daughter. off limits.”

after their practice was over, your dad forced you into the locker room to introduce you to the team. “this is my daughter, who will be running our socials from now on. everybody better be nice to her.” he said, laughing. you waved, your eyes flicking over to roger, who smiled wide at you. “go mingle.” your father said to you, and pushed you to the boys, who all introduced themselves.

You ended up falling in love with Roger fast after you met. you couldn't help it, he was just so sweet, he always took the time to play stick and puck on the ice with you--even when your older or younger brother couldn't.

Well, here you were. One night, months after you met him, you decided to sneak out to Roger's car, riding over to his new apartment he was staying in for the meantime.

Next thing after another, your dad was blowing up your phone.

you were too busy hanging out with Roger to care anyway. He was your main priority.