Chapter Six
SELWIN
After another shitload of questions, all aimed at Coach and Berg, Hugo calls an end to the press conference. I glance up again and notice that Finn’s gone.
“Kirkland.” Hugo motions to me. “A word in private, please.”
“Of course.”
I follow Hugo down the hallway to his office and my gut roils with every step. He motions for me to take a seat, and once I do, he closes the door and follows suit.
“We need a plan.”
“Okay.”
“We can’t roll back the clock; you’re out. But we can guide the story.”
“And how do you mean to do that?” I ask.
“By setting you up with a boyfriend.”
My jaw drops and I stare at him like he’s lost it.
“Excuse me?”
“I have someone in mind. There’s another professional athlete, in a different sport, who’s just come out. We get you on a few dates, making sure they’re all public events, and the press eats it up. A win-win for you, him, and both our organizations.”
I’m not totally shocked by Hugo’s idea. PR relationships are common in the entertainment business, but it still makes me uncomfortable.
“You know that me dating a guy, especially a high profile one, may make things worse?” I snark.
“There might be pushback from some of the fans, but I’m telling you, the majority, as well as the media, will eat this up.”
“Really? Is that why I was asked if my coming out was distracting?”
Hugo shrugs.
“Sports reporters are slow to change, but the entertainment press love this kind of thing, and it will carry over in time. You’re not a hockey player, you’re a celebrity.
Teams like New York want to be more inclusive, and that’s not just coming from me, but from the top.
You’ll be a role model for other players across the league. ”
“So, is this the only reason I was signed? For the Rush to get the media’s attention as an LGBTQIA+ ally?” I snap.
“No. Well, it wasn’t the main reason. Your stats speak for themselves. New York was more than lucky to sign you, but that doesn’t mean they’re not highly aware of the… other benefits you offer. Having you around will diversify our fan base.”
“Wait.” I hold a hand up. “First my sexuality is a problem, but now you’re turning it into a benefit?”
“This team is going to be the role model for modern hockey.”
“Yay for you, but this is my life we’re talking about,” I snark. “And if I say no to this plan?”
“That’s not advisable.”
I sigh with resignation. I don’t know that I have the strength to fight.
“How long do I have to ‘date’ this guy?”
“As long as it takes for the media to fall for the two of you. Reporters love a power couple and that’s what we’re going to give them. And they’ll see that coming out hasn’t affected your game. NY Rush is supportive, which is also positive press coverage, so we’re all good.”
I bite my lower lip and hold back my temper. I’m far from happy about this.
“So, the press will accept my queerness as long as I’m only dating one person?”
“A relationship is way better coverage then the paps snapping pics of you coming out of a club every other night of the week with a different person.”
“Judgemental much?” I snap. “First off, I’m not out every night, because I take my career seriously. And second, who and how many people I sleep with is my business.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Right,” I hiss.
“So, we’re good? No problem?” Hugo adds.
“I don’t know, it’s just that—”
“That what?”
I’m so exhausted I can’t even find the words to explain how I feel.
“Nothing.”
“Good. I’ll set it up and get the NDA ready. And don’t start shooting your mouth off to anyone on the team about this arrangement, got it?”
“Or what?”
“Don’t.” Hugo shakes his head. “Keep it private for now, alright?”
“Like the guys won’t know what’s up when this news suddenly hits the press?” I scoff. “Come on.”
Hugo offers me a glare, but I don’t give a fuck.
“Be as discreet as possible with your personal life.”
“Do I need to report back to you on who I’m having sex with? Do you want to add a tracker to my phone to make sure I’m not meeting up with every available man and woman in the tristate area?”
Hugo bites his lower lip.
“Or am I expected to stay celibate until me and my ‘fake boyfriend’ break up?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Just be careful.”
“I’ll do my best,” I counter with a smirk. “But I have a demand of my own.”
“You can ask.”
“Whoever this guy is, he needs to know some basics about hockey. And be discreet in return.”
“Of course.”
“Is that all?” I grumble, standing up.
I’m done here.
“What did you expect Sel? Really, tell me the truth. Did you think this would be easy?”
“I don’t know what I thought,” I snarl. “Oh yeah, I thought people would have evolved by now and accepted my bisexuality and realize it has nothing to do with my job. And I thought I’d also have some measure of privacy.”
“We have accepted you. But come on, the hockey world hasn’t evolved. How many out players are there?”
I can think of one rookie in Philadelphia, but I keep my mouth shut.
“You know this, and yes, it sucks.” Hugo sighs.
“But I told you, New York wants be the forerunner in changing the narrative in the league. It’s time.
You’ll be paving the way for other queer athletes.
Plus, you’re a public figure. Fuck’s sake, you’ve played for nine years, and you still don’t know that your privacy isn’t the same as it is for everyone else? ”
“Of course I know it, but straight guys aren’t judged the same way,” I counter. “They’re not ignored by other players or booed in public or harassed online. I deserve some protection and privacy.”
“We’re monitoring all the socials, and if there are any issues, I’ll let you know. And the PR date is temporary. Two months tops. Like I said, both of you get positive press.”
“You hope.”
Hugo doesn’t reply.
My phone buzzes and I pull it out of my pocket. I’ve got messages from Finn and Berg, and another one from Damien. I ignore my teammates for now and tap on my friend’s message.
Damien: I’ve been calling and texting you for weeks with no response. I’m worried. More than worried. If you don’t respond to this text tonight, I’m flying down to NYC to check on you. I’m serious.
Hugo starts to yak in PR speak again, but I rudely ignore him and type a response to Damien.
Sel: I’m in a meeting with the team’s PR pain in the ass. I’ll call you back when I get home. I promise.
Damien: I’ll hold you to that. I don’t care how late it is! CALL ME.
Sel: I’m sorry I’ve been MIA. It’s been a lot.
Damien: I know. I’ll be waiting.
I pocket my phone and glance at Hugo.
“Anything else?
“For now, we follow this plan. I’ll be in touch with the next steps.”
“Can’t wait.”
“I’m not the enemy, Sel.”
“Well, you’re sure as fuck not a friend,” I complain.
“I’m on your side, but like I said, this is—”
“Business, I know. It’s not my rookie year.”
Hugo crosses his arms and gives me a sympathetic look.
“You played well tonight. Not great, but I suspect nerves got the better of you. Do you need to speak to someone? We have a wonderful sports psychologist on staff if—”
“No thanks,” I interrupt. “I’m managing fine.”
I’m not, but Hugo doesn’t need to know that. And if I want to speak to someone, I’ll find my own therapist, not the team’s. Bad enough Hugo’s going to be monitoring my every move in this stupid made-for-TV boyfriend scenario, how would I know the team’s psychologist wasn’t going to tattle on me?
“I’ll be in touch. Keep a low profile until then.”
I nod and make my way to the door, wrenching it open and slamming it shut behind me.
Heading down the hallway, I remember I need to grab my bag, and I make my way back to the locker room.
It’s empty now, save for a few staff who are cleaning the room.
Saying hello to them as I pass, I head for my stall, reaching in to grab my messenger bag.
I know some of my teammates are already hitting the bars and clubs, but all I want to do is go home and crawl into bed.
Who the fuck have I become?
First, I’ve gotta call Damien back. I’m still not sure I feel like talking, but I also don’t want to lose one of my oldest friends. Besides, Damien understands, because he’s bi and he knows the hockey world like I do.
I head down the hallway and turn right toward the exit, but when I do, I’m surprised to see Finn walking toward me.
“What are you doing here?” I blurt out.
“I work here, remember?” He chuckles. “The truth is, I got so worked up about the game, I left without taking my bag and had to come back.”
Without thinking, I hold the door open for him, and when he walks past me, I don’t miss his swagger in that tailored suit. He’s got a confidence I didn’t see back in the summer. Or maybe I was too much in my head—and my ego—to notice.
“See you at practice,” I murmur.
Finn pauses. “You okay after the press conference?”
“I’m fine, but thanks for asking.”
“Heading home?”
“Yup. Are you meeting up with the guys?”
“Yeah, at some club on the Upper West Side. I texted you about it, but maybe you’ve got your notifications turned off.”
There’s no way I’m going to admit that I ignored him.
“I was going to skip it, but since it’s my first NHL game, I figured, what the hell.” Finn continues with a wide smile. “Even if we lost, I’ve still got a lot to celebrate, right? You should come with.”
“Not tonight. Another time.”
Fuck, how times have changed. I used to be the first one ready to party with my teammates. Now I’m like a tortoise pulling into my shell for protection.
Go home, Sel. Before you make another mistake and change your mind.
“Okay, see you soon.”
“Night, Finn.”
I offer him a wave and keep walking. By the time I make it to the elevator and down to the parking garage, the aches and pains are starting to settle into my bones.
I don’t know if it’s the stress of the past month, but I’m looking forward to a day off.
It’s strange, because I used to play my best under pressure, but I’m not sure anymore.
And if I can’t find my way back, then what? Where do I go from here?
Finn