Faking It With The Hockey Star

Harper’s POV

I had never been this nervous in my entire life. My hands were cold, my stomach was twisting into tight knots, and despite practicing this presentation so many times that I could probably recite half of it in my sleep, my mind had suddenly decided to forget every single word I had ever learned.

I stood at the back of the auditorium, watching another student finish their defense. The room was packed. Professors sat at the long table at the front with their laptops open and notebooks spread out beside them, while other students filled most of the seats behind me, whispering occasionally before falling silent whenever a new presentation began.

My entire university career was sitting on the laptop in my hands: months of filming, editing, re-editing, long nights, missed meals, arguments, and tears. The footage I had almost lost, the footage someone had deliberately deleted, and the endless hours I had spent putting everything back together had all led to this exact moment.

I looked down at myself. For the first time in what felt like forever, I had actually dressed up properly. I wore a simple blouse, a fitted pair of trousers, and had my hair neatly styled. Nothing dramatic, just enough to make me feel like I belonged at the front of that room.

I took a deep breath, and my phone vibrated in my hand. I glanced down to see a text from Justin, and a smile touched my lips before I even opened it.

Justin: I’m on my way to my exam. Justin: I wish I could be there.

My smile widened. Another message came through immediately.

Justin: Please kill it for me, babe. Justin: I love you. Justin: And just so you know, my grandparents are already talking about how proud they are of you.

I laughed quietly to myself. Then my family group chat started blowing up with notifications.

Grandma: Go and make us proud, sweetheart. Grandpa: You have worked too hard for this. Go show them what you made. Emma: YOU’VE GOT THIS!!! Noah: Don’t forget to breathe.

I smiled at Noah’s text. Then my mom sent a message of her own.

Mom: My girl, I am so proud of you. Go and shine.

My eyes stung, and I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat. Then Justin sent one final text.

Justin: Whatever happens in that room, I’m already proud of you.

I stared at the screen for a few seconds. That was exactly what I needed to hear.

Me: I love you too. Me: Now go destroy your exam.

His reply came back almost instantly.

Justin: Yes, ma’am.

I locked my phone and looked toward the front of the room just as Professor Silas glanced down at the list in front of him.

"Harper?"

My heart stopped. This was it.

I picked up my laptop, my legs feeling strangely light as I walked down the aisle toward the front of the auditorium. I connected my laptop to the projector, and the screen behind me shifted as my title appeared. The room went completely quiet.

Professor Silas offered me a warm smile. "Whenever you’re ready."

I took one last breath. "Good morning." My voice sounded steadier than I felt. "My documentary is titled..."

I paused, then began.

I talked about how the project had started, and how I had initially approached the hockey team thinking I was simply documenting athletes. But somewhere along the way, the story had become much bigger than that. I explained my concept, my research, my interviews, and my decision to focus not only on what happened on the ice, but on what happened when the players stepped away from it.

I explained why I chose certain shots, including the wide-angle footage during team sequences. "Using the wider frame allowed me to capture the relationship between the players and their environment," I explained. "I didn’t want the audience to feel like they were watching isolated athletes. I wanted them to feel the size of the team and the atmosphere around them."

One of the professors nodded and made a note. My confidence grew. This was something I knew deeply; this was my work.

Moving to the next slide, I talked about my use of close-up shots. "These were intentional. When the documentary becomes more personal, I wanted the audience closer to the subject. The tighter framing removes distractions and forces the viewer to focus on facial expressions and emotion."

I walked them through my choices in framing, lighting, and camera orientation. I explained why certain interviews had been filmed horizontally for the primary feature while additional vertical clips were captured for social media promotion. I detailed the contrast between the cold tones in the arena and the warmer grading used during personal moments.

Then I brought up the sound design: the microphones, the ambient noise, and the decision to keep the scrape of skates, the smack of sticks against the boards, and the roaring crowd present throughout.

"Because hockey isn’t silent," I said, catching a few smiles from the panel. "It’s loud, physical, and chaotic. I wanted the audience to feel that."

I moved to the next slide, my voice growing stronger. I wasn’t thinking about the professors or my nerves anymore; I was thinking about the story, the people, and the months I had spent bringing it to life. I explained my editing choices, why some scenes were allowed to breathe while others were cut quickly, and why I used transitions sparingly.

"I didn’t want to tell the audience what to feel," I said. "I wanted to give them enough to feel it for themselves."

The room was completely silent, everyone hanging on my words.

I clicked to the final section: the challenges. That was the part I had dreaded, but I talked honestly about losing footage, navigating technical difficulties, working under extreme pressure, and reconstructing parts of the project. I didn’t give them every ugly detail from behind the scenes, but I wanted them to understand that the finished documentary hadn’t come easily.

"This project taught me that filmmaking isn’t just about having a camera and knowing how to edit," I said, looking around the room. "It’s about adapting when things don’t go according to plan. It’s about protecting the story even when the process becomes difficult."

I clicked one last time. The screen went black as the documentary ended.

For a second, nobody moved. The silence stretched, and my heart pounded so loudly in my chest that I could hear it.

Then Professor Silas smiled and started clapping. One professor joined him, then another, and suddenly the entire room erupted into applause.

My eyes burned immediately, and I looked down, blinking rapidly. No, I was not going to cry here, not after everything.

Professor Silas stood up. "Harper."

I looked at him.

"You should be very proud of yourself."

That was it: one sentence, and my eyes filled with tears anyway. I smiled warmly. "Thank you."

He nodded. "Now we have some questions."

I laughed softly. "Okay."

The first professor asked about my technical choices, and I answered effortlessly. Another asked why I chose documentary filmmaking over fiction, and I answered that too, followed by a question on ethical considerations when filming real people.

Then Professor Silas asked the question I had secretly prepared for the most. "If you had another six months to work on this documentary, what would you change?"

I thought about it, then smiled. "I would probably change a lot." A few people in the audience laughed. "But I don’t think I would change the story."

"Why?" Professor Silas asked.

"Because the story changed me," my voice softened. "And I think that’s what a good documentary is supposed to do."

Silence fell over the room once more, followed by another round of applause.

Professor Silas closed his notebook. "Thank you, Harper."

I nodded. "Thank you."

I stepped away from the podium, my legs shaking with relief rather than fear. As I walked back toward my seat, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out, already knowing who it was.

Justin: Done?

I smiled, my fingers moving quickly across the screen.

Me: Done.

Three dots appeared, then disappeared.

Justin: I knew you would.

I stared at his text, smiling so hard my cheeks hurt. For the first time in months, I could finally say it. I was almost finished, and whatever came next, I was completely ready for it.

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