Image Management
Pairing: Mat Barzal x actress!fem!reader
Warnings: Crude humour and language, Breakups, Fictional Character / Events, alcohol + party coping behaviour, cheating / betrayal (past relationship), Sexual References.
Summary: An actress in crisis after a public breakup is pushed into a PR-driven plan that forces her to meet an NHL star at a gala, setting everything in motion.
Taglist: @ashloveshockey
Read more: Masterlist / Series Masterlist
The car door opens.
Flashbulbs hit immediately.
“Y/N! Over here—!”
“Mat! Look this way!”
Your name and his name, tangled together like they’ve always belonged in the same sentence.
You step out.
He’s right there a second later.
And then—
his hand.
Light. Steady. At the small of your back.
Not grabbing. Not pulling.
Just—
there.
Grounding.
“Are you two together?”
“When did this start?”
“Is this official?”
You smile.
Of course you do.
“We’re just here to support the event,” you say smoothly. “It’s a great cause.”
You feel him glance down at you, amused.
“Yeah,” he adds. “What she said.”
You move together.
Not perfectly. Not like you rehearsed it.
But it works.
It looks—
convincing.
Inside, the noise softens into something warmer.
Less sharp.
More contained.
You exhale, just slightly.
His hand drops from your back.
You notice.
Immediately.
“Well,” you say, glancing at him. “That was subtle.”
“Yeah,” he nods. “I thought we really sold the ‘we just met five minutes ago’ vibe.”
You smile.
“Very organic.”
“Very natural.”
You fall into step beside him.
And for a while, it’s easy.
That’s the part that throws you.
You move through the room together, stopping when you have to, slipping away when you can. People talk to you. To him. To both of you.
He’s good at this.
Not in the polished, media-trained way you’re used to.
Just… normal.
“So what is this event actually for?” he asks quietly as you both escape another conversation.
You blink.
“You don’t know?”
“I was told to show up,” he says. “That’s about as far as I got.”
You laugh.
“Yeah, that tracks.”
You grab two drinks from a passing tray, handing him one.
“Some kind of foundation thing,” you say. “Rich people feeling better about themselves.”
He nods.
“Love that.”
You take a sip.
“You’re doing really well, by the way.”
“At what?”
“Pretending to be into this.”
He shrugs.
“I’m having a decent time.”
You glance at him.
“…you are?”
“Yeah.”
A beat.
“You’re funny.”
You choke slightly on your drink.
“Wow,” you cough. “That’s bold of you to admit out loud.”
“Just being honest.”
“Careful,” you say. “People might think you like me.”
“Would that ruin the narrative?”
“Completely.”
You’re still smiling when it happens.
It’s not loud.
Not obvious.
Just… a shift.
Your eyes catch something across the room.
And then you see him.
Sebastian.
It’s like someone pulled the floor out from under you.
Sudden.
Sharp.
He’s standing near the bar.
Laughing.
She’s next to him.
Hand on his arm.
Leaning in like she belongs there.
Your chest tightens.
Hard.
Because it’s not just seeing him.
It’s seeing him like that.
Comfortable.
Easy.
Like nothing happened.
Like you didn’t matter.
“You okay?”
Mat’s voice cuts through it.
You blink.
Force your face back into something neutral.
“Yeah,” you say quickly. “I’m fine.”
You’re not.
You’re absolutely not.
“I’m gonna grab another drink,” he says after a second. “You want anything?”
You shake your head.
“No, I’m good.”
He hesitates.
Just slightly.
Then nods.
“I’ll be right back.”
You watch him go.
And the second he disappears—
“Hey.”
You freeze.
Of course.
You turn slowly.
Sebastian stands there like this is casual. Like this is fine.
“Hey,” he says again.
You stare at him.
God, he looks the same.
“Hi,” you reply.
Your voice is steady.
You don’t know how.
He smiles.
Like he always does.
Like it still works.
“You look good,” he says.
You almost laugh.
It comes out sharper than you mean it to.
“Thanks,” you say. “You too.”
Your eyes flick to her.
Then back.
He notices.
Of course he does.
“Yeah,” he says. “This is—”
“I know,” you cut in.
You don’t need the introduction.
You really don’t.
There’s a beat.
“I didn’t think you’d be here,” he says.
You tilt your head.
“Yeah,” you reply. “Funny how that works.”
He shifts.
Like he’s uncomfortable.
Good.
“I was gonna call you,” he says.
You let out a short laugh.
“You didn’t.”
He exhales.
“I just thought—”
“What?” you cut in. “That I’d see it online like everyone else?”
Because you remember.
The message.
Not meant for you.
A name that wasn’t yours.
A timeline that made you feel sick.
The confrontation.
Your voice shaking.
His… not.
“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he says.
“That’s funny,” you reply. “Because you absolutely did.”
A pause.
“It wasn’t serious,” he says.
That what does it.
You stare at him.
“Wow,” you say softly. “That actually makes it worse.”
“I just think you’re making it a bigger deal than it was,” he adds.
There it is.
You let out a breath.
Shaky.
“Right,” you say. “Because getting cheated on is famously not a big deal.”
He runs a hand through his hair.
“Look, we were both busy, things got complicated-”
“Don’t,” you cut in.
“Don’t rewrite this like it was mutual.”
There’s a flicker of irritation in his expression now.
“You’ve clearly moved on,” he says, glancing past you.
You follow his gaze—
Mat.
Standing a few feet away.
Watching.
You look back at Sebastian.
“Oh my god,” you say quietly. “Is that what you think this is?”
He shrugs.
“Looks like it.”
You laugh.
It sounds hollow.
“Yeah,” you say. “Because God forbid I don’t sit around crying over you forever.”
His jaw tightens.
“You’re making a scene,” he says.
There it is.
Not what he did.
Not how he hurt you.
Just how it looks.
You swallow hard.
Your eyes sting.
And then—
“Hey.”
Mat.
He steps in beside you like it’s nothing.
Like this isn’t loaded.
Like he didn’t just read the entire situation in half a second.
“Sorry,” he says easily. “I stole her for a second.”
His hand settles at your back again.
Steady.
Familiar.
Sebastian looks between you.
Mat smiles.
Polite.
Friendly.
Just enough edge underneath it.
“You good?” he asks you quietly.
You nod.
Too fast.
“Yeah.”
He doesn’t buy it.
“Cool,” he says anyway.
Then, to Sebastian—
“Nice to meet you, man.”
Sebastian nods stiffly.
“Yeah,” Mat adds, like it’s an afterthought, “we were just heading out.”
You weren’t.
Not technically.
But you don’t correct him.
Sebastian glances at you.
Then at him.
“Right,” he says.
Mat’s smile doesn’t change.
“Yeah,” he replies. “Have a good night.”
There’s something in the way he says it.
Not aggressive.
Not confrontational.
Just final.
Sebastian doesn’t push it.
He turns.
Back to her.
You watch them go.
Your vision blurs slightly.
“Hey,” Mat says softly.
You blink.
Hard.
“You wanna get out of here?” he asks.
No hesitation.
No we should stay.
No this is good for PR.
Just you.
You nod.
“Yeah,” you say.
And that’s it.
He doesn’t make a scene.
Doesn’t explain.
He just keeps his hand at your back
guides you through the room
past the noise
past the people
past everything
Until you’re outside.
The air hits cold.
Sharp.
You make it three steps.
And then you break.
It’s not dramatic.
Not loud.
Just your breath catching, your chest tightening, tears you can’t quite stop.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he says quickly.
You shake your head.
“It’s so stupid,” you manage. “I’m fine, I just—”
You’re not.
He doesn’t argue.
Doesn’t tell you to calm down.
“Come on,” he says gently. “Let’s get in the car.”
He opens the door.
Waits.
You slide in.
He gets in after you.
Tells the driver something low and quick.
The car pulls away.
You wipe at your face, frustrated.
“Sorry,” you mutter. “This is—”
“You don’t have to apologise,” he says.
You laugh weakly.
“Yeah, I do. I’m supposed to be, like, fun tonight.”
“You were,” he says.
That doesn’t help.
And also does.
There’s a beat.
“Who was that?” he asks, quieter now.
You stare out the window.
“My ex,” you say.
Simple.
He nods.
“He cheated on me,” you add.
Because apparently you’re just saying things now.
He doesn’t interrupt.
“I found out from a text,” you continue. “Not even a good one. Like if you’re going to ruin my life, at least be creative about it.”
A shaky laugh slips out.
“And then when I confronted him, he didn’t even fight for me,” you say.
Quieter.
“He just… ended it.”
You swallow.
“And then three days later he’s out with her,” you add. “And I get to find out about it the same way everyone else does.”
Public.
Clean.
Humiliating.
You let your head fall back against the seat.
“I looked like such an idiot,” you say.
There’s a pause.
“That’s not on you,” he says.
You glance at him.
His expression is steady.
A little tighter now.
“He didn’t even try,” he adds. “That’s on him.”
Simple.
No bullshit.
You exhale.
“I kind of lost it after,” you admit.
“Like, drinking, going out, doing dumb shit with people I didn’t even like.”
You huff a quiet laugh.
“Really great coping mechanisms.”
He doesn’t judge.
“Then suddenly I’m the problem,” you say. “Photos, headlines, ‘spiralling actress’—all that shit.”
You shake your head.
“It’s just… exhausting.”
Silence.
Soft.
“You don’t seem like the problem,” he says.
You blink.
“That’s because you met me after the breakdown,” you reply.
He smiles slightly.
“I think I’d have the same opinion,” he says.
You look at him. Really look. And for the first time all night, you feel something shift.
Not fixed.
Not okay.
But less alone.
“…thanks,” you say quietly.
He nods like it’s nothing.
And somehow that makes it mean more.
