Logan Romano took the NHL like a hurricane- dark and brooding.
With his natural talent, brute force and sheer determination, he goes completely unchallenged both on and off the ice.
He's notorious. Both for his success and his stormy personality...
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Me: How classy would it be if I throw up in a bush right now?
Cece💋: Not very, Nove. Not very Cece💋: is it too late to make a break for it?
Me: I'm already in the fancy shmancy box...
Cece💋: r.i.p girl, you've just gotta brave it Cece💋: I'm sure you'll be fine!
Me: i politely disagree. Me: this actually might be the worst experience of my life
Cece💋: worst comes to worst, buy a couple of shots and be so drunk that you can't even remember the trauma! Cece💋: good luck, girlie. sending prayers🙏❤️🔥
I hate ice hockey.
I hate the loud crowds, the booming commentary, the aggression, the noise of the skates, the weird cages that cover the players faces.
And now I'm adding a new thing to the hate list- I hate the executive box.
I have never felt so out of place in my life.
Every person that's sat in this box is worth millions. They're all decked out in clean-cut engagement rings, custom made suits and stilettos I've only ever seen advertised in Cecilia's fashion magazines.
They laugh at jokes I don't understand and exchange stories about their wild adventures at the country club and the havoc they reeked during their annual trip to the ski resort.
The men sit by the bar, nursing expensive glasses of scotch and chuckling in the way all rich white men do.
I don't belong here.
"Are you lost, sweet pea?" A woman with perfectly laminated brows and fluffy eyelashes asks me, a martini resting in her manicured hands.
My alert eyes drift to the done-up brunette by her side. I'm extremely impressed by how her forehead doesn't crease in the slightest as she frowns down at me.
"Oh, erm, no. I'm not lost, thanks." I gulp, wishing that I could afford a drink at this damn bar. "I'm, uh, just new around here."
The women look at each other and smirk. "We could tell. More women here slap a bit more makeup on and at least try to look good." One says patronisingly.
"And you don't even have a diamond ring on that finger. Talk about puck bunny." The other snickers, twisting her own engagement ring.
