𝐬𝐲𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐲 | 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐛𝐲

|Sports Illustrated, Vanity Fair, and The Post Gazette|

3rd POV...

Andy sat at his desk in his dark office and scrolled through Sydney's Instagram page, viewing all her pictures. Examining them closely, one by one.

The reflection of her pictures appearing in the lenses of his glasses. Andy wrote things down on his note pad, taking in all the little details in her pictures from the captions.

He then tapped on his phone, making a call, "Hey, she's perfect. Yes, I'm serious, I'm literally looking at her Instagram right now," He paused briefly, listening to the person on the other end of his phone. "Well, I am serious, she is perfect. The Gazette will absolutely love her face on their cover," Once again, he paused. "Yes and Sports Illustrated. And Vanity Fair, I'm 100% positive she'll be a perfect fit for this."

Once Andy hung up the phone, he closed his computer, grabbed all his belongings, leaving his office space, going back to his apartment.

Sydney's POV...

The two of us were behind the benches like usual, going through our photos on the SD cards, trashing the blurry pictures while drinking our morning coffees together, and chatting about things we saw on our main feed on Instagram.

Sidney and Jake would come to the benches for water and we would always tap on the glass to chat for a bit before going back to the ice.

Kris, like the jokester he always was, blew me a kiss from on the ice before taking a shot. The puck blasted past Tristan's glove and into the net making me do a round of applause for him and his shot.

The two of us went our separate ways, Bri was having fun taking pictures of Jake laughing on the ice while I was following Sidney around, snapping his handsome sweaty bright face.

"Sydney."

I turned around to see Andy walking up to me, "Andy, is there something wrong?" Taking my camera away from my face, my lips dropped out of concern.

"No, no," He smiled, Andy was finally happy for once, "I need to talk to you," Gently taking my upper arm, he led me away to sit down. "Sports Illustrated Magazine, Vanity Fair, and The Post Gazette are all coming today. The company wants you to be on the cover and be our female face."

Halfway through Andy talking, I blanked out, "Wait, run that by me again?" I then scratched the bridge of my nose.

"The company wants you to be our female face and be on the covers." Andy ran a brief summary of his question over again, but slower.

"Why me though?" Shaking my head, blinking a few times, I huffed at the information. "I'm no model. I certainly don't have a pretty face or am I the proper weight for doing something like modeling."

"I showed my superiors your Instagram pictures," Andy tapped on his phone to pull up my personal Instagram page, clicking on my latest photos, which were the ones from my first day in front of the Lemieux statue. "And they think the same about you," Andy then put his phone away. "So, what'dda say?"

I really don't know if I am ready to do something like this. I'm not perfect, or glamorous, or in shape like they may think I am, "Will Bri be coming with me?"

Andy let out a chuckle, "Why did I know that you were going to ask the question?"

"Because you know me all too well."

"Yes, she's coming with you. Same with me, but after lunch, the three of us will be taking a leave of absence from our positions to attend the shoot, so be prepared to leave."

Andy then stood up, leaving with me and my thoughts. I was absolutely terrified but at the same time excited. Vanity Fair. Sports Illustrated. The Post Gazette. I was going to be on the cover. My "ugly imperfect" face would be on the cover. My stomach then flipped over which made me crunch my stomach, slightly hunching over.