Love on Ice

Chapter 3 - Olivia

I shuffle my portfolios in my hand and flip my hair out from being trapped between both files.

God that man has a fucking attitude problem.

I walk in the direction he went. Where do I set up? Where am I based? Where do I even start?

I assume the boys have all signed photography disclaimers and I'm free to photo what and who I want freely.

I make my way towards the arena and find double doors which from what I can see through the small window takes me straight to the rink.

I've never been in an arena. It's not massive. But its big enough.

They hold concerts here when it's not being used for ice hockey.

I enter at the middle section and make my way round to the home side.

I find an empty seat and settle down, not hard in an empty arena. I place my bag down and grab my camera. I start setting it up and grabbing different pieces and connecting them together.

Just as I finish flicking through the lighting settings, I hear a rumble of chat and noise coming from the rink entrance followed by a large group of men. All dressed in their gear and taking to the rink.

Orange? Seriously.

That's their club colour.

Gross.

Orange is never the new black.

Blacks my favourite colour. Everything I own is black, hence the black jeans and black hoodie I'm wearing right now.

Although the hoodie is faded into a greyish black from the number of times it's been washed.

Shit.

Jeans and a fucking hoodie? Why didn't I dress up to the nines?

Maybe that's why he was so unimpressed with me. Shit.

God where is Megs. I need her right now.

I grab my phone and start typing a text to her.

'Megs! Get your fucking ass to the arena. Now.'

Just as I press send a loud voice echoes around me grabbing my attention.

I look down to the team box where some of the players are sitting and two men in the same polo tops James is wearing standing with clipboards in their hands. Then I realise he's standing there looking my way shouting at me.

"Get off your fucking phone I don't pay you to sit around texting," he shouts towards my direction.

The nerve.

The men are all looking my way now.

God I hate being the centre of attention.

He makes me angry.

But also gives me this newfound confidence where I just want to stand up to him.

Probably not the best idea seen as he is my boss now.

I raise my eyebrow and shout, "do something interesting then! And, I'm pretty sure you don't actually pay me, so your statement is invalid."

The eyes are still on me, and his face is morphed into a smirk.

"Anyway, stop babysitting me and do your job!" I finish with.

Shit.

I just told my new boss to do his job.

Fuck.

Well. It was nice while it lasted. The all 20 minutes of it.

He lets out a low chuckle and turns around to the boys and joins them on the rink with the other coaches and starts shouting orders.