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I smile to myself because I can see here that Riley really sees me in ways that no one else does. I doubt anyone else will be able to read between the lines, but I can.
As the cheers echo through the arena and the spotlight follows his every move, remember that there’s a human being beneath the armor, a man whose journey is as compelling as the goals he scores. Alex Barrett: unfiltered, unapologetic, and undeniably real.
However, the relief is short-lived. I don’t even get to the end of the article before Benjamin has something else to show me, something less pleasing.
“Look at this,” he says with frivolity lacing his tone. “Not everyone is happy for you. This reporter here thinks that Riley is favoring you because of the kiss.”
Maybe I should have expected this, but it still makes my heart sink.
…the controversy surrounding Anderson and Barrett gained traction when social media users began speculating about the nature of the relationship between the journalist and the player. While neither party has officially commented on the matter, the speculation has ignited a broader conversation about the potential influence of personal relationships on journalism.
“Oh God.” I feel sick to my stomach. This makes it seem salacious, like I seduced Riley so she’d write a good story about me.
“And this…” Benjamin hands me another article. “Man, you really are the talk of the town at the moment, aren’t you?”
I know he’s trying to be light-hearted, trying to make me laugh too, but I just can’t find it in me. It’s disheartening to see the truth contorted and manipulated for the sake of headlines and scandal. The words on the pages feel like a betrayal, and I can’t help but feel a deep sense of frustration and disappointment.
Riley will hate this just as much as I do, I’m sure of it.
In a shocking revelation, questions are being raised about the objectivity of Riley Anderson’s journalistic integrity, as her positive article about famous hockey player Alex Barrett has fueled rumors of a personal relationship between the two.
“I don’t like this,” I mutter as I see another article which is just as damning.
Journalistic ethics dictate that reporters must maintain a level of objectivity and impartiality to ensure fair and unbiased reporting. The concern now is whether Anderson’s alleged personal relationship with Barrett has compromised her ability to provide an unbiased perspective on his activities and achievements.
“Don’t show me anymore.” I shove the papers back at Benjamin. “This is just stupid. I’m getting really sick of it now.”
I know I’m supposed to be getting changed. I really don’t want to give Coach any more reasons to single me out, but I can’t do this right now. I need a moment to catch my breath, and I want to talk to Riley as well. I need to hear her voice.
“I’ll be back in a moment,” I mutter as I grab my phone. “Just… give me time.”
Outside the building, I lean up against the wall as I dial the number. As I listen to the endless ringing sound, I pace up and down because I can’t stand to be still. The anxiety and stress ricocheting through my body is painful. It shouldn’t be like this; life shouldn’t feel like this. What the hell am I going to do to make this all go the fuck away?
“Alex?” Riley breathes out the moment she answers the phone. “Are you okay?”
She knows.The first thing that hits me is the fact that she must have seen the other articles. She must know what people are saying about her and her integrity.
“I’m doing alright. Are you?”
“Hmm.” She doesn’t say much, but that speaks volumes. “I guess.”
“Shit, Riley, I’m so sorry.” I rake my fingers through my hair. “I saw your article.” Well, most of it. I’ll read the rest of it later on. “It’s great. You did an awesome job.”
“Thank you… although I’m not sure if my boss will see it the same way.”
I bite down on my bottom lip because I don’t know what to say. I would love nothing more than to comfort her at this moment, but I can’t. I can’t leave practice. I can’t draw any more attention to us when I’m sure there will be paps waiting for us.
But that doesn’t make any of this feel better. I still have that icy cold, sick feeling sitting in the pit of my stomach.
“How are things on your end?” she asks, breaking the agonizing silence.
“Yeah, I don’t know yet. I haven’t seen my coach. I’m sure it’ll be fine, though.”
“You sound like you’re having a shitty time.”
I try to laugh, but the sound that comes out is much too strangled to be believable. “Yeah, so do you. This is horrible, isn’t it? I keep waiting for it to die down.”
“I didn’t help, releasing my article. Although, like I said to you, I didn’t think Chad would go for it. I thought he’d shut it down right away, but I guess the publicity is better.”
