This work is completely original and has not been copied from any source. Any resemblance to other content is purely coincidental. While you are free to use this for Instagram reels, edits, or similar creative purposes, I kindly request that you inform me beforehand if you plan to do so. Thank you for respecting the effort and originality behind this creation!
Harper's POV:Digging into Ayla’s past revealed more questions than answers.
She was a mystery wrapped in contradictions. A hockey star who avoided the spotlight.
A young woman whose talent shone on the ice but who disappeared into the shadows the moment the game ended.
I spent hours reading articles, watching old game footage, and piecing together fragments of her story.
A childhood marred by anxiety, a family that expected perfection, and a love for hockey that was both her refuge and her prison.
The more I learned, the more I realized how little I truly understood her. She fascinated me, though I’d never admit it—especially not to her.
Ayla's POV:Every time Harper’s name appeared in my inbox or his face appeared at the rink, I felt the walls closing in.
He was relentless, and I hated him for it. But I hated myself more for the way my heart raced when he smiled, for the way his voice lingered in my mind long after he was gone.
One evening, as I sat alone in my apartment, I opened an email from him.
It was a simple request for an interview, but his words were different this time. He didn’t ask about hockey.
Instead, he asked about me—what I loved, what scared me, what drove me. For a moment, I considered replying. But fear won, as it always did.
Harper's POV:Digging into Ayla’s past revealed more questions than answers.
She was a mystery wrapped in contradictions. A hockey star who avoided the spotlight.
A young woman whose talent shone on the ice but who disappeared into the shadows the moment the game ended.
I spent hours reading articles, watching old game footage, and piecing together fragments of her story.
A childhood marred by anxiety, a family that expected perfection, and a love for hockey that was both her refuge and her prison.
The more I learned, the more I realized how little I truly understood her. She fascinated me, though I’d never admit it—especially not to her.
Ayla's POV:Every time Harper’s name appeared in my inbox or his face appeared at the rink, I felt the walls closing in.
He was relentless, and I hated him for it. But I hated myself more for the way my heart raced when he smiled, for the way his voice lingered in my mind long after he was gone.
One evening, as I sat alone in my apartment, I opened an email from him.
It was a simple request for an interview, but his words were different this time. He didn’t ask about hockey.
Instead, he asked about me—what I loved, what scared me, what drove me. For a moment, I considered replying. But fear won, as it always did.
~Thankyou have a good day ahead!!!
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