Playlist

The frigid Winnipeg air bit at your cheeks as you stood outside the Modar Centre, the echoing cheers from the Storm’s preseason game still ringing in your ears. Angela, your best friend and the reason you were here, bounced on the balls of her feet beside you, clutching a half-eaten bag of popcorn.
“Oh, come on, you can at least wipe that frown off your face and try to look like you’re having fun!” she teased, her breath misting in the cold.
You managed a small, perhaps forced, smile. Fun. The word felt foreign, a concept reserved for others, not for someone navigating the relentless demands of their fourth year of university. But here you were, because Angela, with her unwavering power of persuasion, had insisted.
The bus stop was conveniently close, nestled near the back entrance marked “Staff and Players Only.” As you consulted your W Transit app, a wave of exhaustion washed over you. The next bus wasn't for twenty-eight minutes.
Suddenly, two figures emerged from the arena and walked towards a parked Jeep nearby. One of them, a tall blonde, looked up and greeted Angela by name. And then you saw him – the other one. Even with a hood pulled low, there was no mistaking the face that had dominated sports news. Taylor Hudson.