Page 12 of The Romance Line
Garrett’s smile of acknowledgement is at least kind. “Max,” he begins as he sits, his tone more serious than I’ve ever heard it. “Thrive has decided not to renew their sponsorship with you.”
Even though I knew it was coming, my lungs feel crushed, like I’m gasping for air. Thrive had been my biggest sponsor for years, providing not only financial support but also a sense of legitimacy in the sports marketing world. Without them, I’m going to lose more than just a paycheck.
It’s weird that you can brace yourself for something, that you can read the writing on the wall, and yet it’s still a gut punch when it happens. But I don’t want to let on how disappointed I am. When you let down your guard, that’s when you get sucker punched again. “Okay,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “Any reason in particular?”
Well, besides the obvious. I’m one of the most hated men in America. That’s what happens when the world thinks you broke up with America’s sweetheart.
Garrett exhales, then steeples his hands together. “It comes down to visibility, Max. You’re not as active on social media as they would like. You’re not seen at events or engaging with fans. You’re not in the game highlights on ESPN.”
I scoff. “I beg to differ. Iwasthe highlight of the game last night.”
“Yes, a shutout is impressive. It’s even better when you give a comment to the media,” he adds, then with ahate tomention thissmile, he adds, “Also, you arekind ofsupposed to be available to talk to the press after games.”
I give him a look. “You know what happened when the press tried to talk to me last year. It wasnotabout hockey.” It was all about the split with Lyra and about her new guy.
“We know,” Garrett says. “And the front office is certainly aware of the media attention that came with your last romance.”
“The breakup,” I correct, since there’s no need to be coy here. “You can say it out loud. I do know we’ve split.”
Garrett moves on with the smoothness of a good agent. “And the front office understood that a lot of things happened?—”
“A lot of things happened? That is the fuck-all euphemism of the century. The press showed up at my sister’s house.”
Garrett nods, still the picture of calm. “Yes, and the front office understood you needed a break. And then, after that, they tried to help by having their PR ask you to do features and soft pieces.”
Features—like the thing Everly asked me to do in Seattle. I don’t mention that though. He probably already knows I refused. Dude probably knows what I ate for breakfast too. I stay quiet, waiting for him to keep going.
“But it’s been over a year,” he adds. Translation: the team’s patience is running out. “And it’d be good for you to get out there. Give a softball comment now and then after a game.”
“Like,I’mjust focused on helping the team,” I say, rolling my eyes.
Rosario clears her throat, beaming as she chimes in. “Actually, that’s a great start. Our market research shows that a simple team-centric comment to the press can go along way to endearing the public to a professional athlete.”
“Long enough to make them forget a pop star wrote a song about you that was dead wrong?” I counter. Not to mentionthe fightthat came before that too.
Garrett levels me with a serious stare. “Not gonna lie—it’ll take some work, but it’d be a start.”
“You want me to tell everyone, too, why we split? Does the world need to know the truth of that?”
“No, Max,” he says, deadly serious. “It doesn’t do you any good to air dirty laundry. But it doesn’t do you any good to be so reclusive about yourself and the sport either. As it is, your reluctance is sending you backward.”
I sigh heavily. “There’s a reason I don’t talk to the press,” I say. And it has little to do with that song. Little to do withthe fight.It has everything to do with what happened a week or so later when the press tried to track me down at my sister’s house after the fight. I burn with anger as I remember that night more than a year ago.
“We know,” John cuts in, his voice even more no-nonsense than Garrett’s. “But still.”
Then I get pissed. Like I would if I missed a save in a game. “This is bullshit from Thrive. I’ve promoted their product in every way possible. I did promo shoots and commercials.”
Garrett nods solemnly. “I know, Max. But the numbers don’t lie. Your marketability has decreased significantly. And they aren’t the only ones who have moved on.”
I bristle at the reminder. I lost Power Kicks, a sneaker company. I lost the watchmaker Victoire. Hell, I couldn’t even get a sponsorship with Seductive, the company that owns the cologne I actually wear every day.
The last year’s been a long, slow march away from me.I’m nuclear to brands. But Thrive felt like a lifeboat, consistently keeping me afloat.
“We have nothing compared to the other season,” John adds.
The onebeforeI discovered Lyra’s lies. The one before the world blamed me for her lies. Lies she spun in her song of heartbreak. “Surprise Me” in-fucking-deed.
“And it’s affecting your likeability quotient,” Rosario puts in.