Fake Dating the Ice King

The Punch

Maya

“Did Leo just punch Hayes?” Chloe’s voice cut through the noise. One second, Northridge was roaring chants, skates, sticks, and the next, silence.

“No,” I said, adjusting my camera. “He just ended his career.”

Through the viewfinder, everything sharpened to Leo Thorne. Captain, the Ice King, Campus royalty in a navy jersey with a gold “C” like a crown he never took off. He had everything talent, scouts, headlines. People watched him as if he were inevitable.

And right now? He didn’t look inevitable. He looked out of control.

The game was tight. Score tied, last minutes, tension stretched thin across the rink. Sticks clashed, bodies slammed, blades scraping ice layered under the roar of the crowd.

Then Leo drifted toward the corner, chasing the puck. A defender Hayes who is Bigger.The kind of player who relied on force instead of finesse.

Hayes was on the ice, blood at his mouth, Leo over him, chest rising, fist clenched like he hadn’t realized yet that the game had stopped.

“Maya,” Professor Higgins snapped beside me, half leaning into my space. “Tell me you’re rolling.”

I didn’t answer. The red light said enough. I’d been filming Leo for three years.

The way he ignored people who spoke to him unless they mattered. The way he smirked when he scored, like it was expected. The way teammates laughed a little too loudly at his jokes.

Spoilt brat, wrapped in talent. So yeah I got the shot. His fist connected with Hayes’s jaw.

“Get him off!” someone shouted. Two referees grabbed Leo back. He resisted for a second not fighting them, just… not moving.

He went still and them pull him. As he passed beneath the media booth, he tilted his head up and looked straight at me, not the crowd, not the coaches my lens. For a second, it didn’t feel like I was filming him. It felt like he was seeing me, no panic, no regret.

I lowered the camera too late. The moment burned.

Three hours later, outside the principal’s office, my camera bag was still digging into my shoulder.

The hallway smelled like polished wood and bad decisions. The door opened. “Ms. Ellison,” a secretary said.

Leo was there. He sat like he owned the room, in a leather chair, no pads now. No helmet. Just a hoodie thrown over his broad frame, hair still damp from melted ice.

A bruise was already forming along his jaw. He didn’t look like someone who had just destroyed his future. He looked bored.

Principal Thorne stood tall behind the desk. The kind of man who built things that other people had to live under and he is Leo’s father.Next to him, Cassandra Vance. Sharp blazer, Sharp eyes. The kind of woman who didn’t waste time on emotions unless they could be sold.

She didn’t greet me. She just tapped the tablet in her hand and turned it toward me.

My footage, The punch.Paused right at impact.

“This will hit ten million views by midnight,” she said. I dropped my bag. “Probably more.”

Leo’s gaze flicked to me.” Confident,” he muttered. “For someone who filmed a crime.”

Cassandra stepped forward. “Right now, Leo isn’t a top draft pick. He’s a liability, Violent and Unstable. Sponsors will start pulling back.”

“Then maybe he shouldn’t have thrown the punch,” I said. Leo leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Careful, Camera Girl.”

I met his eyes now. Up close, they were colder than they looked on ice. “Or what? You’ll hit me too

“Enough,” Mr. Thorne cut in. He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. The room adjusted around him.

“Maya,” he said softer now, “you’re on a full scholarship. Funded by the Thorne Foundation.”

I stilled. There it was. The part where this stopped being about hockey.

“If this damages us,” he continued, “certain programs may be reconsidered.”

My stomach dropped.”You mean cut.”

“I mean evaluated, that’s not evaluation,” I said. “That’s leverage.”Cassandra smiled slightly.

“Call it what you want,” she said, sliding a gold edge onto the desk. Thick paper. “We call it an opportunity.”

I didn’t touch it.”What kind of opportunity?”

“A narrative shift.”Leo let out a quiet, humorless laugh. “Here we go.”

Cassandra ignored him. “We’re launching a digital series, Controlled Content and Behind-the-scenes access. A redemption arc.”

“For him?” I asked.” For the public,” she corrected. “People don’t care about truth”.They care about what feels true.”

“And what’s supposed to feel true here?”She held my gaze.”That Leo isn’t violent. He’s misunderstood, protective, and Emotional.”

I folded my arms. “He punched someone on national television.”

“Exactly. Which is why we give them a reason.”

“And what reason is that?”Cassandra didn’t hesitate.

“You.”The room went still, and I blinked once. “I’m sorry?”

“You’re his girlfriend.”For a second, I thought I misheard. Leo didn’t. He stood up so fast the chair scraped loudly against the floor. “No.”

Cassandra didn’t even look at him. “Yes.”

“I’m not fake-dating her,” he snapped. “She hates me.”

“She doesn’t have to like you,” Cassandra said. “She just has to look like she does.”I laughed. “You’re insane.”

Principal Thorne stepped in again. “Maya.”

“No,” I cut him off. “You don’t get to ‘Maya’ me into this. I’m not turning my life into some PR stunt because your son can’t control his temper.”

Leo’s head turned toward me slowly.” Careful,” he said again, quieter this time.I stepped closer. “What? That hit a nerve? You’re used to people cleaning up after you, right? Coaches, teammates, your dad”

“You don’t know about me.”

“I know enough.”The words landed harder than I expected. Thorne’s voice cut through again. Colder now.

“You will do this,” he said. I turned to him. “Or what?”

“Or your funding disappears. Immediately. Cassandra tapped the contract lightly. “Six months. Filming, appearances, content. You shape the story.”

“And if I say no?”

“Then you lose everything.”I looked at the contract. Then at Leo.”I’m not your girlfriend,” I said.

“Of course not,” Cassandra replied. “You’re the illusion of one.”Leo exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “This is a joke.”

“No,” Cassandra said. “This is damage control.”He looked at me again.

“Don’t make this harder,” he said under his breath. I tilted my head. “You think I’m the one making this hard?

“I think you like this,” he shot back, “You’ve been waiting for me to mess up.”Maybe he wasn’t wrong. That didn’t mean I’d help fix it.

I picked up the contract, flipped it open, and read the pages of terms, dates plus Conditions.A relationship written like a script. My name next to his.

I should’ve walked out. I didn’t. Because this wasn’t just about him. It was about everything I’d worked for.

And they knew it. I closed the file slowly.”Six months,” I said. Cassandra smiled. Leo didn’t.

“But let’s be clear,” I added. “This isn’t a love story.”

His mouth twitched. “Good,” he said. “Because I don’t like you.”

“Perfect,” I replied. “I don’t like you either.” Cassandra clapped. “Great Chemistry already.”

This was supposed to be my story. Now it was his too.

And just like that. The story began.