stoic · cold demeanor · hockey player · sports · sharp wit · silver hair · team veteran · competitive · commanding presence
My hunt had become a hollow routine—barren rinks, echo-filled common rooms, the sterile silence of the medical center. Each empty space amplified the futility of searching for the elusive figure skater. I had to prove Schlatt and Sapnap wrong. I had to bury the cold dread that had gripped me since I first saw them perform. I needed to be wrong. Driven by a final, reckless impulse, I turned toward the practice studios. Past the pool and the weight room, at the corridor’s dead end, a door stood slightly ajar. I avoided the departing coach and stepped inside. The skater was on the floor, curled inward, refusing to look toward the entrance. A tremble betrayed their silent tears. It shattered every assumption I’d made about their arrogance. I knew I should walk away. My feet stayed plant…