#julynn

It certainly doesn't hurt that her jersey, baggy jeans, and sneakers are a lot more comfortable than the suits she usually dons for Phantoms games.

"We probably blend in a lot more here too," Flynn comments with a smirk.

"What, nah," Julie laughs, glancing around at the massive throngs of multi-racial and gender-diverse guests here for the game. It really is a far cry from the white and male dominated crowds for hockey games.

Flynn giggles and leans closer to look at her phone. "So where'd you put us, oh regular person who definitely doesn't work here?"

"Up in the lounge where the DJ usually is," Julie answers, double checking the tickets. "Seemed like a nice change of view from the bench, and in the crowd without being..."

"Absolutely mobbed if someone clocks you," Flynn finishes. They squeeze her hand.

Julie nods, yet another wave of appreciation for her partner's ability to basically read her mind washing over her. It's not that Julie minds being recognized out in public, honestly some of the fan interactions she's had at random times and places are some of her best fan memories since she started coaching for the Phantoms. But at the same time, there's a lot of pressure that comes with it to be 'on' all the time. And sometimes, she'd rather just... have fun and be a person.

"So we gotta go up then, right?" Flynn asks, glancing around the massive atrium area.

"I think so?" Julie responds. "I think there should be stairs that go up to it from here somewhere..."

They both glance around. Julie has been up to the area in question dozens of times since she moved back to LA nearly 5 years ago, but usually by elevator from ice level, where she usually comes in for games and press events. She can see the open side of the lounge that overlooks the atrium, but getting to it feels more complicated. This view is... confusing.

"There!" Flynn cries, pointing across the atrium at a massive, white wedge that starts near one set of doors and leads up towards the lounge.

"Flynn you're a genius!" Julie exclaims, relieved. "Come on." She leads the way, weaving through the crowds of people still entering as the announcer inside the bowl starts welcoming everyone to the game.

"I accept payment in the form of kisses and alcohol," Flynn declares as they approach.

"Done and done," Julie laughs as they sidestep a group of fans stopping to take a picture. "I think the bar up there is pretty nice."

"Oh I kno-Wait these aren't stairs," Flynn says, stopping short as they reach the base to find a smooth, drywall-textured surface with a big sign that says "NO CLIMBING".

Julie frowns, confused. The smooth surface leads right up to the middle of the lounge where they're trying to go. But there's no steps to speak of, and it continues all the way up to the roof without stopping.

"Looking for the AMEX Lounge?"

Julie turns quickly to see a tall, older white guy with grey hair, an arena uniform, and a kind, if slightly amused, smile on his face. "Yeah we are," she admits.

"Happens all the time," the man assures them. "You want to go down to the corner there, and just past there are some stairs that come back up this way. Those'll take you up there."

"Thank you," Julie responds, mirroring his smile gratefully.

"Of course, you two enjoy the game," the man replies. "And don't worry about this thing." He waves at the ramp. "You're like the tenth person to make that mistake in the last hour."

Flynn laughs and shakes their head at the thing. "It's so misleading," she complains lightly.

"Don't I know it," the man chuckles.

Julie shoots a playful glare at the wedge, then nods to the employee and lets Flynn guide her towards the actual stairs this time. "Well that was embarassing," she mutters to them as they head up. "I work here, why didn't I know that?!"

Flynn squeezes her hand. "Sure you work here, but you're never up here for games," they point out. "I mean I work for the team too and I didn't know either."

Julie sighs, but shakes it off as they reach the lounge entrance. "Learn something new every day I guess," she says as they enter and head for their seats.

"That's my girl," Flynn agrees. "You still owe me that drink though."