PROLOGUE

It all kinda started when, like every Friday night, Minjoo went to her last practice of the week with the Haneulae team. Both her parents were busy with important meetings, and her older brother, who would come to pick her up when they couldn’t be on time, was in Jeju for a birthday. So, she had to wait until her mother could escape her human resources appointment. She wasn’t even a director or anything, and Minjoo didn’t quite understand her job but still, she had tons of meetings for God knows what. As the good friend she was, Yena insisted on waiting with her that night. Thus, they took a warm shower in the changing room and switched their practice jerseys for more comfortable clothes, sweatpants and hoodies. Sitting grotesquely manspreading, Minjoo sighed when the austere and extremely old school Viderski passed by them, hitting on her head with some paper rolled in her hands,  asking her to “seat like a lady”.

Half an hour later, they were still there, sitting on the rink support seats, and the brand new Ice resurfacer had just finished smoothing the rink when one of the National figure skaters entered. The two hockey players immediately got up from their seats to take a closer look at the girl they immediately recognized, Yu Jimin, Korea’s number one junior solo figure skater, second place in the same category for last season’s Asian Grand Prix.

“Definitely het,” Yena commented, and Minjoo simply gave her a side glance.

“All the nationals are het.”

Yena seemed persecuted, “didn’t you date one?”

Minjoo shrugged, yeah, Yena was actually not wrong. In fact, to begin with,  like a lot of teens, she fell in love with her best friend and it made her realise some things about her. She was kind of oblivious until her heart missed two beats when they kissed for a game. She moved on pretty easily, Yuri making it easier by how annoying she was, and found a new crush among the hockey team. Needless to say Yena was worse on the annoying scale, and she got friendzoned pretty fast anyway. However, when she got into Haneulae, it felt like a fever dream. Sport girls, everywhere, anywhere, almost like she couldn’t lay her eyes on every one of them. It led to a weird and short relationship with a friend of a friend competing in junior nationals. It lasted one week and two days if you add Friday afternoon and Saturday morning, and it made her realise a few other things; she prefered smaller girls, she wasn’t ready for commitment, and track runners are really boring people to date because not everything is about proteins,

“She wasn’t a skater.” They went back to their seat, observing the girl’s repetition on the main rink. It was a tango, and the way she moved was mesmerising. When it ended, another national entered the rink and Yena started to shake Minjoo’s shoulder in excitement because “Oh my, Kim Chaewon!”. Minjoo did recognize her, for a fact, barely two weeks ago, there were tons of pictures of her and her partner around the rink because they won first place in the Asian Junior Grand Prix. And she had pink hair, too, quite noticeable.

Yena had a fat crush on her. She was pretty, yeah, and incredibly talented, maybe, but Minjoo never found her more interesting than that. And if she would, Yena would kill her on the spot, or wait for another practice to shove her stick into her skull. So, Minjoo spent twenty minutes listening to Yena’s rants about how their kids would have pink hair -she didn’t bother to explain how dyed hair doesn't add up in genetics-, how lucky was the ice to have Kim Chaewon skating on it, etc etc. She was just joking, but Minjoo couldn’t help but frown at times, because hey, Yena rejected her so easily for someone simping over a basic skater that never ever looked in her way. Nevermind, her friend had a crush in every place they would go to, so it didn't really matter. Kim Chaewon was one of them; it just hurt her ego. And unfortunately, that friend couldn't postpone her train back home one more time, so when the clock hit nine pm, she grabbed all her stuff and jumped off the blue seats, waving at the hockey player before disappearing. 

Minjoo sighed loudly, plucking on her earphones, going on Youtube to watch some NHL highlights of the week she missed because of practices and homework. It was colder than usual here, and she buried her free hand in her pocket, straightening her legs, letting her unlaced Jordan’s hit on the front seats’ back. Eventually, and finally, she received a text from her mother saying she left the assembly and was on her way. When the video ended, she perceived some loud voices on the rink, and no more music. Curiously, she took off an earphone, stretching her neck to look over the transparent wall. Kwon Eunbi, one of the figure skater trainers, was as red as Minjoo's cheeks during a game -and that meant a lot-. Her eyebrows were furrowed, and she was nervously holding a phone, hand on her waist, quite preoccupied. Minjoo raised her eyebrows, then slumped back on her seat, spreading a bit more her legs, hoping the old Russian trainer had already left.

And , she was still there when she got up to leave the rink. Minjoo faked a smile as she bowed, but saw the coach’s mouth move towards her direction with big gestures. She paused the music, and noticed the three women’s attention on her. 

“Kim Minjoo! You’ve done figure skating, right?” asked the austere woman. The girl vaguely nodded, taking care to ignore the national skater judging gaze on her, something about pretty girls staring making her a bit nervous. “Would you accompany Kim Chaewon for her practices?”

Minjoo blinked once, then twice, bewildered. Her? Figure skating? With a national? She simply forgot everything she had ever learned in this discipline and she wasn’t even good at it in the first place because of her terrible balance and lack of flexibility. She met the blonde coach’s eyes, then Kwon Eunbi’s, then the figure skater who was fidgeting with her necklace. “I- Uh, well, It was ten years ago.”

“And?” Coach Viderski literally turned violet, pointing an accusing finger towards the hockey player who merely jerked. “One should never forget how to spin and skate!”

Bold of her to assume Minjoo could even spin. If all, she knew some basic jumps, maybe a bit of technical crossovers and never attempted a full rotation. She just stared, eyes going from the old lady’s blue ones, to Coach Kwon’s brown ones, to Kim Chaewon’s dark ones. This made no sense at all, and it could’ve lasted even longer if Kwon Eunbi didn’t sigh in acceptance.

“I’ll teach you everything you have to know, don’t worry,” she spoke. Her gaze was both relieved, worried and pleading. “It’s just to keep up with the flow of practices. Her partner got injured, he will be back soon but that would be truly helpful.”

“I mean, uhm,” Minjoo raised her eyebrows, nervously scratching her cheek, considering running away for a moment. But then, she met Kim Chaewon’s gaze and her body shivered, the only thought coming to her head being to flex on Yena. Please, she could already imagine her friend hitting the wall, crawling on the floor and throwing up. “Okay.”

CHAPTER 1  - Troye Sivan - BITE

Unlike on match days, the rink was practically deserted when only the ceiling lights illuminated the vast expanse of ice on which blue and red lines could be seen. There were remaining strakes of skate blades forming long white streaks, stopping suddenly where stops and skids were made by players. The sound of sticks clashing was almost imperceptible to them, but anyone passing by the rink would have been startled by the noise. The coach yelled at a player to go backwards, and once again, two sticks clattered before the puck rushed down the rink, straight out of the blue zone.

For many people, hockey represents a sport of bullies, of brainless men sliding around on the ice ready to fight at any opportunity. Sure, there was once a hockey team totally controlled by the Mafia whose players broke more teeth than scores, but that would require a whole chapter. Also, sure, punches are allowed, in small amounts and in certain situations, but that doesn't make hockey a bully sport or whatever boomers call it. Minjoo was moderately over five feet tall, a small, pink-cheeked, dimpled seventeen-year-olds who didn't scare anyone and yet her shoulder slammed with incredible force against the plexiglass, causing the rest of the board to shake. Her helmet ricocheted against the fabric-she could only blame herself for not strapping it- and fell on the ice right after her black stick. She hiccupped in surprise, her breath coming in as her pads pressed against the shoulder that had taken the brunt of the impact.

After picking up her equipment, she peeked at her teammate wearing a different coloured jersey as he raised his stick, waving teasingly before turning and gliding back to his defensive line. The coach blew his whistle, of course, and as soon as the helmet was tucked under her chin, she slid to the front of the offensive zone, her skates lapping the damaged ice as her team set up. Her gaze once again found the boy who had ejected her against the plexiglass board surrounding the rink, returning his previous gesture before sending the puck towards Jiung.

Hockey may be violent, but it's also really rapid, and in a matter of seconds, Minjoo regained the puck, passing between the two defensemen who lagged behind her. She didn't need to look at the puck to direct it, and faster than lightning, she sent the object into the top corner of the net with a quick wrist shot, knocking the goalie to his knees who, again, had failed to anticipate her shot. After all, no one could anticipate them, nor her movements, nor her original way of skating at full speed while incredibly manoeuvring the black biscuit bearing the school emblem. She wasn't last season’s leading scorer for nothing, after all.

"Kim Minjoo!" The coach, whom they had to call Coach Oh but nicknamed Cocho, whistled between his two fingers, something none of the team members could do, by the way, despite how hard they tried. Immediately, the center slid towards the benches, focusing more attention on the coiled strap of her helmet than to the way her blades were moving on the ice. One of her teammates tapped on her shoulder, and she dropped heavily onto the bench protected by glasses. "Four Seconds."

"What?" The girl took advantage of the break to regain her breath, removing the thick gloves that had been clogging her hands for almost two hours. They prevented her from having her hand cut in half by blades, but they also gave her fingers a sweaty, stinky texture once they were free of them.

"It took you four seconds to score," Cocho handed her a sports bottle, waiting to meet her eyes to allow her to grip it. It wasn't genuinely a smile but rather a tiny grimace he would make when sincerely congratulating one of his players. Minju beamed, bobbing her head before swallowing most of the bottle.

"That's cool," she commented as she wiped away the drops of water sliding down her chin with her white jersey sleeve.

"Keep that up, and you'll take us to first place," too many compliments from Cocho was getting fishy, and the man realised it at the same time, regaining the bossy grouchy look that made him look ten years more senior than his age. Naturally, you couldn't ask for too much of him. "And we'll lose if you keep rushing your shots. How many times do I have to tell you?"

Minjoo set the emptied bottle on the bench with a nod, hiding a smile behind the curtain bang that veiled her face a bit. Yeah, she could stop rushing them, but that would be far less amusing. Rash and proud, to say the least, her brand.

Despite his hockey tough-guy looks, Coach Oh was a fundamentally competent man who knew how to get the best out of everyone, and perhaps it was this combination of physical efficiency and psychological support that made the performance of the Haneulae training centre so remarkable. Nothing was left to chance, whether the strategic timing or the conditioning provided by coaches, sports psychologists and the centre's sports committee. On-ice training sessions took place late in the evening when it had long since gone pitch-black, to make the ice more enjoyable, and physical training happened in the morning. The level of demand was uncomparable to that of her club in Doksan, but Minjoo could not help but appreciate having such support and conditions for her growth and development.

The five minutes passed quickly, and once again, equipped with her helmet and gloves, she returned to the rink, scoring her first goal only moments after performing the face-off, applauded by both her partners and grumpy coach Oh.

-

Playing in a mixed team had several disadvantages. To begin with, the opponents did not consider girls differently and charged both the same way. On more than one occasion, Minjoo had been thrown to the ice with monstrous violence by boys who later would come and apologise in her Instagram DMs, perhaps hoping to make it up to her by asking her out for a meal before she would leave. Next, amenities had to be put in place such as booking a spare room in hotels during away games. Or more futile things like slightly different diets or various weight training exercises. On the other hand, the best advantage remained the privilege of being the team's favourite. As well as having the best whole dressing room to themselves (when it wasn't the janitors or broom closet).

The Haneulae National 3 team had three girls, Minjoo, her teammate of many years, Yena, and a girl from another club, Ryujin. Assuredly, the three N3 girls were a real power trio, as good and fast as any other players. Minjoo finished brushing her hair in front of the foggy mirror in the changing room, feeling immediately cleaner and warmer after a steady shower. Yena was already changed, gathering all her belongings in the big bag they would drop off in the rink's lockers while Ryujin was sharpening her blades with a towel around her head. The rules of Haneulae didn't differ remarkably from ordinary boarding schools. They had classes, compulsory homework hours, a curfew at eleven o'clock, penalties for being late or absent, and of course, schedules to be respected.

Minjoo and Yena shared a dormitory room in building four, conveniently the closest to the ice rink. It should be a two-, three-minute walk, no more, and having lockers was already a weight off their shoulders given the bulky equipment. Because of the late hour, they resolved to take instant noodles from the vending machine in the hall, as the cafeteria had only served cold food since the end of the last service. Most of the time, they left the rink fast after showering to have a good meal, but they were lazy that day. The lift sped up to their floor, where the corridor was all lit up, still showing students coming and going.

Having always lived in a small neighbourhood where everything was only a few blocks away, boarding school life took Minjoo a long time to adjust to. Mostly, living away from her family, whom she only saw on weekends and Friday nights. At the age of sixteen, leaving the family cocoon can cause some insecurities, especially to commit to a demanding school with a rigid lifestyle. The decision was Minjoo's alone, with her parents ensuring they would support her whatever she decided, and today they couldn't be prouder. Secondly, boarding school life also meant living in a community. Such as sharing a room and bathroom with people, depending on the cafeteria, waiting until the weekend to wash clothes and avoid paying for laundromats, few hanging out, curfews, hectic schedules and restrictive rules. Fortunately, she had known Yena all her life so being her roommate was not that much a deal. At least the evening supervisors were often lazy enough to check on all floors. This would turn the evenings into hunger games, but somehow some of them always managed to sneak into other people's rooms for a little secret party.

"I swear, wait-" Yena tried to spare herself, dropping her backpack to the floor to search more endlessly for the swipe card they use for literally everything. Well...her fifth swipe card. Minjoo sighed, advancing her own card from the box, suddenly interrupted. "No! Wait, I have to find mine."

"Find it inside," the younger of the two cocked an eyebrow, insisting on swiping her card, which automatically unlocked the door.

"No, It'll block-" she was immediately cut off by the sound of aluminium hitting her nose and the lock rattling. Like an old cartoon, her fringes twirled from the power of the door closing in front of her. A few seconds later, Minjoo's card reached her feet, and a laugh echoed inside the room, "-it."

As a demonstration of modern architecture, everything was symmetrical in their dorm room. There were four cupboards at the entrance, next to them, three beds overhanging storages as one of them served as a dumping ground for jackets, sweaters and jerseys. All their school supplies were scattered on the medium dark-wooden desks, as well as their phones and tabs. Under a window, there was a tiny sink, a microwave and a fridge often left empty. A white door led to the bathroom they shared with the girls next door, two gymnasts, while a large window overlooked buildings surrounding the centre.

"I got hit in the stomach with a stick. I don't know how, but it happened," Yena sighed as she dropped her bag heavily in front of her wardrobe.

"Pretty sure it was Daehyeon." Minjoo did the same, though more carefully, she took care to remove the ice-wet stuff and dry it on the edge of her bed. "Because he was raging today."

"Prob’." The walls were a dark grey, and despite the ban on damaging paint in any way, the roommates had allowed themselves to attach a few things. Nothing extravagant, though. A poster of the Edmonton Oilers, polaroids from Dean's 130 MOOD album, their pictures of Doksan and some souvenirs from friends and parties. They preferred keeping it simple, recalling the time a supervisor had come to check on the place, coming across a calendar of y girls in bikinis that Jiung and Jaehyuc had hung there once and forgotten to remove. "Hold on, bro, weren't you supposed to go skating with my girl?"

"Huh?" The young hockey player froze in place, blood rushing through her body as she widened her eyes. "Oh- . I forgot."

She had completely forgotten about this slight detail and immediately rushed to her phone. Just Saturday afternoon, she had received a message from the national coach telling her all the schedules that had been adjusted, asking if everything was still good, and like a fool, she had agreed again. Yena giggled, pointing at her roommate scrolling through her emails to find the mentioned schedule. If her mother had been there, she would have criticised her for not being organised enough, and she wasn't wrong about that, to be honest.

After some more scrolling, she managed to get her finger on the mail, which took a long time to open. Yena leaned over her shoulder, laughing at all her unread emails, then bursting even more as the schedule stated in black letters that a training session was starting in precisely three minutes. Damn, that was bad luck. Within seconds, and to the laughter of her friend, Minjoo grabbed a cereal bar, a piece of gum and her barely unpacked bag, slamming the door so fast that all the upstairs neighbours had to hear her leave a few moments from the curfew.

She hustled back the way she came, passing the same benches and lampposts she passed a few minutes ago. It was pitch black outside, and only a few swimmers were still hanging out on the campus walkways, coming out of private lessons. Too proud to run, Minjoo simply walked as fast as she could to the rink, which seemed to be in darkness from afar. Teddy, the place's caretaker, appreciated to be particularly gossipy and pimp-like, was not even behind his private desk. Nonetheless, Minjoo made her way to the locker room, having the misfortune to run into something that made her jump in terror; Viderski.

"Eight minutes late, young lady," scolded the stiff-featured elderly woman, arms clasped across her chest in a fleece. A flag was proudly displayed on her chest, and Minjoo was surprised to find her without her medals around her neck, even though she liked to brag about them when she had obtained them in the days when mammoths still roamed the streets. "I was beginning to worry."

"Better late than never," the hockey player grumbled, taking advantage of the experienced coach's few hearing problems, merely shaking her head when the latter asked her to repeat herself. Instead, she sat down heavily on the bench, legs clamped together to avoid getting a 'sit like a lady', then started to pull out her still-fresh pair of skates, only to flinch a second time.

"Come, come!" Viderski looked scandalised. She buried her head in her hands as the hockey player looked on in utter bewilderment. Without hurrying, she removed the skate, taking care to hide the hole in her sock while she waited for the old woman to finish rummaging in a wardrobe. "How do you expect to skate in this? And didn't you read the letter?"

In addition to being older than a Herrerasaurus with a mediaeval mentality, Viderski employed such a vocabulary that before she could remember the email, Minjoo visualised herself opening her mailbox. Physical training, apparently, but she didn't know what it signified anyway. "How am I going to skate then? With cleats?"

"Spare me some nerve and hurry to the gym room!" Viderski pointed to a blue door, then tightly rolled up the papers she held in her hand, making a tube thick enough to bang with a bounce on the girl's head. "And hide that infamous sock! I'll find you a pair of proper skates for tomorrow, now don't cause them to wait any longer."

With little willpower and even less motivation, Minjoo headed for the gym Viderski had indicated. It was the figure skaters', and apart from mats, perhaps, she didn't know what could be different between this one and the ones she frequented. Nevertheless, there was some chill music playing as she entered the heated room. Kim Chaewon was sitting on a large blue carpet, wearing leggings and a grey ODSD sweatshirt, her hair held back in a ponytail, and Minjoo only nodded in greeting.

"Ah! Good evening!" Coach Kwon seemed reassured, and for the first time actually, Minjoo thought she had done well by accepting the surprising request. Although she had never worked with her, everyone at the rink knew each other. Besides, his team liked to tease Cocho about the pretty young figure skating coach. After all, he didn't have to blush every time she showed up at the rink with her students. Regardless, Minjoo bowed, gently closing the door behind her. "Thanks again for coming. You're a lifesaver. Come in!”

Eventually, the difference was radical. In this place, there were no leg presses, no leg curls, no treadmills, nor dumbbells. Only a carpeted floor, full-length mirrors, speakers, some kind of rubber band hanging from the ceiling, and other little sports gadgets. If Minjoo had known or at least remembered, she would have made an effort, like not to put on a sock with a hole in it. Nevertheless, she set her bag down by the door and stepped nonchalantly into the room, hands in her pockets, observed like an intruder by the national who still hadn't spoken to her.

"I hope you were able to organise yourself easily," Kwon Eunbi resumed, also dressed in a fleece jacket in the colours of the national flag.

"Yeah, it's fine," Minjoo lied, flashing a faint smile, trying to look as casual as possible, anything to keep Kim Chaewon from suspecting her presence intimidated her a little, in fact. Just a little, but still. "Sorry for being late."

"It's alright! We hadn't even started yet, as you can see," Kwon Eunbi pointed to the national, and this time Minjoo had no choice but to look in her direction. To her relief, it was Kim Chaewon who raised one of the hands that supported her back above the ground, making a simple peace sign. Oof. It could have been worse. Or better. Or...anyway. Minjoo returned another nod and hastily directed her attention back to the coach. "If you don't mind, we'll start with some warm-ups? I would like to get to know a bit more of you."

The hockey player was familiar with warm-ups. Cocho had a habit of being particularly sadistic during them, amusing himself by making his team run up and down the bleachers for long minutes. At least here, with no bleachers, it was going to be a complex thing to do. Kwon Eunbi started some new quiet and relaxing music before sitting down, followed by Kim Chaewon. Minjoo took advantage of the circumstances to hide the hole in her sock and concentrate on the instructions given in a gentle, serene voice.

"Now, let's start by taking a deep breath in, slowly," she began, puffing out her chest. Minjoo glanced down to make sure she was in the appropriate position. "Let's close our eyes, then gently stretch our neck. Slow but precise movements. Don't crush your cervicals."

It definitely had nothing to do with the instructions shouted by Cocho, whistle in mouth, who was longing to see his players collapse one by one on the blue bleachers. It was almost relaxing, in a way, and Minjoo even found herself sighing with relief as she now warmed her shoulder by moving it up and down.

"So tell us," Kwon Eunbi twirled her wrists, and Minjoo elevated her eyebrows, waiting for the next part of the question. "You're a national player, right?"

"Not yet," Minjoo clarified, a little uncomfortable with being the centre of attention with the intimidating presence of Kim Chaewon. And Kwon Eunbi, of course. "I'm in N3."

"Are you playing with Seohan?" The pink-haired girl asked.

"Yeah," Minjoo nodded. "You know him?"

"Hmhm," she smiled once more. Ooh. Never, and yet she spent time with Seohan and the others, had she known her team’s captain knew Kim Chaewon. He never mentioned her when the subject of girls came up, so maybe they were just friends, but either way, Minjoo couldn't wait to taunt Yena. And Seohan, for that matter.

"And you're a figure skater too?" Kwon Eunbi made slow, graceful arm movements that, unlike Kim Chaewon, Minjoo found very hard to replicate. Grace and elegance were definitely not in her skill set, and the skaters would discover that out for themselves sooner or later.

"No. Actually, I did two or three years of it when I was a kid, but you should see how bad I was," she confessed sincerely. Kim Chaewon lost her grin, her face betraying a certain incomprehension mixed with contempt, her gaze becoming more critical, and maybe Minjoo shouldn't have stated it like that. It wasn't very optimistic, nor was it very encouraging for the future. Now that she was here, she might as well give it her all. "Well, I'm still a good skater. I think."

"Viderski told me nothing but good things about you," Kwon Eunbi affirmed. "That woman thinks highly of you."

"Oh yeah?" Minjoo couldn't help but be surprised by the fact, almost amused. "I thought she hated me."

"She hates everyone," Kim Chaewon interrupted again. Seeing her up close, Minjoo understood a little more what Yena, and practically everyone else, found so attractive about her. More than beauty, she had an unbelievable charm. That might be the subjective, still relatively objective nuance.

No, Minjoo didn't find the superstar skater Kim Chaewon beautiful or whatever. And she had never lingered on her person in a hallway, for example. Maybe for her pink hair, but for nothing else. When Yena mentioned her smile, Minjoo only saw a bland smile that anyone could possess. Now that she had her face on it, the smile seemed almost hypocritical. Her lips were stretching, but her eyes were unwrinkled with genuine emotion. Instead, her gaze remained indifferent and critical. But despite that, Minjoo found her a little more charming at that moment. To her, because undoubtedly, Kim Chaewon was a sight. 

"She's a tough woman, you know that," Kwon Eunbi cut short the thought, and Minjoo only realised at that moment that for a few seconds, her eyes hadn't left the skater. "But very fair. She always sees the best in people."

"She's showing it weird," Minjoo grumbled as she took her turn sitting cross-legged, wincing at her lack of flexibility. If she knew they would spend so much time stretching, maybe she would have taken it easy during practice. Her calves were starting to take a beating.

"Oh, that I assure you," Coach Eunbi chuckled. "She's the one who took me to the Olympics, and I think I've only ever received one compliment from her."

"Like my head coach," Minjoo said, unable to stop herself from thinking about Cocho's scarlet cheeks every time Kwon Eunbi and her students walked by the rink during practice. The poor guy had exposed himself the day he had bobbed his head and sighed so loudly into his whistle when she smiled at him that the players stopped playing, thinking there was a fault announced.

"I don't know Oh Taecyeon very well, but as for Viderski, I can assure you that I was reluctant to offer you to help us, but she said so many good things to us that in the end, here we are," Eunbi smiled sincerely. Minjoo realised at that moment that she had really gotten herself involved in something significant. Maybe not for herself, but at least for this woman and her student. A student who had only mimicked a falsely impressed look, surely she too, at first glance, was not thrilled by the situation. 

"Oh yeah..." she said, ignoring the slightly judgmental looks of the national skater. She never imagined Viderski could speak such good words about her. "Yet every time she speaks to me, it's to yell."

A muffled laugh escaped Kim Chaewon's lips, and she rolled her eyes. "Same. I have to put my hood up whenever she's around."

"Let me remind you that your hair is against the rules," Eunbi corrected, causing the girl to sigh again.

Oh. The way the breath had twirled the pink strands of her bang had just made her almost drastically more endearing. In fact, her very demeanour was the definition of hot and cold. She would smile, then go back to being impassive. Her eyes would glaze over, then she'd go back to staring into the void as if she were plunging into another reality. In ten minutes spent together, Minjoo had never once been able to discern Kim Chaewon's character once. Sometimes she seemed cold, bordering on contempt, then she would say something with amusement as if she had come back down to earth.

When the long warm-up was over, Kwon Eunbi walked over to the whiteboard that hung next to a shelf of trophies, DVDs and CDs. A projector displayed the menu of her computer, and Minjoo was amused to see she knew how to use it better than Cocho, who was still struggling to make it look clean when the TV wasn't involved.

"You know a little about figure skating, then?" Faced with the lack of an answer, Eunbi opted to move on to explanations right away. "I'll summarise quickly. Feel free to interrupt if you need to. First of all... what are we going to work on in the next few days is a Free Skate Program, okay? Until the end of this season, Chaewon and Hyunjin compete in Junior. Excuse me, remind me how old you are?"

"I just turned seventeen," she said, giving up on standing up straight to wallow again.

"Recently?" Kwon Eunbi cocked an eyebrow.

"Two weeks ago," the player clarified.

"Happy late birthday," the coach joked. True to her apparent character, Kim Chaewon did not say a word about it. "Well, then in this program, there are a series of compulsory moves that are set to music. Chaewon and Hyunjin have a particular style that you will discover. In short, a program has up to two lifts, a twist lift, two different throw jumps. You also need a solo jump, a jump sequence and a choreographic sequence. Of course, if the elements appear more than the required number of times, it is not a fault. Do we agree? Only the first one will be retained in the ranking. Do you have any questions? Do I need to come back to something?"

"Actually..." Minjoo straightened up a little, trying not to betray her deep confusion. Words were flying around in her head, an overflow of information in every direction that evoked absolutely nothing to her. Throw jumps, twist lift... free skate program or even the evaluation of the required figures... in fact, she hadn't comprehended anything at all. "Nothing. I mean, no, yes, everything."

Kwon Eunbi let out an embarrassed laugh as if she had expected it. Kim Chaewon, on the other hand, wasn't amused by the situation at all. On the contrary, if Minjoo had turned her head, she would have seen the glare the skater had merely given her.

"Let's watch their latest performance, shall we?" Minjoo nodded since she had no choice anyway. "And I'll explain in detail."

"Coach?" the skater interrupted just before the video started. "Can I go now?"

Huh? What do you mean, go?

And just like that, she stood up quickly, walking towards a big white bag bearing the Korean flag and the golden Asian Grand Prix inscription. Kim Chaewon escaped the room after greeting her coach, giving Minjoo only a look complex the hockey player didn't even bother to interpret. So...she was taking time out of her already busy schedule, after practice, to go and "help" an absolute stranger who, on top of that, barely spoke to her and was leaving in the middle of a session dedicated to...her? Oh yes, she was a fool.

"Excuse her," Eunbi recovered Minjoo's attention, aware that her student's behaviour could be surprising. She herself had to get used to it. "Her partner's injury and the competition, all of that, is weighing on her. She's struggling a lot with pressure and is really reserved. But she's a genuinely nice girl."

"I guess." Minjoo didn't really guess nor understand, no. Used to play on, for and with a team, she was a er for this 'teamwork makes the dream work' thing. For her, pair figure skating was also a team effort. One without the other doesn't work, that's evident, as Kim Chaewon without her partner couldn't work. But in this case, even though they did not know each other and possessed nothing in common but the rink, they were now a team. Whether the national skater wanted to or not, she had no other choice. And the idea of leaving her teammate during a session would never have entered the hockey player's mind.

"We already practised this morning, too," Eunbi tried once again to justify her student's behaviour, and Minjoo nodded sharply, trying to be cooperative.

"Are there any morning practices?" She asked anyway, apprehensive about the answer. She was willing to allow a few hours in the evening, but there was no way she was getting up a minute earlier. It was beyond her procrastinating slacker's understanding.

"Indeed, but not for you. Don't worry," Eunbi smiled, then threw on a snippet of the video as barely two seconds later, she paused it. "Usually, music for long programs is pretty conventional, but Chaewon and Hyunjin are stubborn as a mule. They choose what they like, and I have to tell you that it amazes me every time. I'll let you judge by yourself."

Indeed, Minjoo might have expected to hear something traditional like Swan Lake or other classical pieces with a bit of power, no lyrics and conveying strong emotions. But negative, the first notes were sung by a silky masculine voice. Kiss me on the mouth and set me free and Minjoo found herself hypnotised by the spectacle unfolding in front of her eyes.

Hwang Hyunjin, dressed in an elegant white shirt adorned with silver jewels, his chestnut hair dotted with sequins visible even through the video, stood gracefully straight behind Kim Chaewon's back. Despite Kwon Eunbi's words, Minjoo could exclusively focus on the skater's long, glittery brown locks. Kim Chaewon wore silver makeup, a lovely white and pewter bodysuit, hugging gracious shape, a glittering pearl white skirt displaying long and thin legs. . To begin with, they graciously moved their head, then Hwang Hyunjin's hand came around the skater's slim waist, and she showed him with her neck. I can be the subject of your dreams. They began moving slowly, mirroring each other's actions in rhythm as their crossovers were slow and detailed.

The music became intense, and a ball of profound admiration mixed with awe gripped Minjoo's knotted throat. After a burst of momentum, Kim Chaewon started spinning in the air as if gravity did not exist. She landed as the music intensified, and Hwang Hyunjin put his hands around her waist once more, helping her pivot on her skates. Kiss me on the mouth and set me free. He instantly lifted her up, sliding to the ground, holding the skater's gracefully arched body at arm's length. Minjoo struggled to swallow her saliva, and Hwang Hyunjin performed a jump that earned them another round of applause.

Minjoo didn't understand what was happening to her. They spun together in sit to upright spins, their eyes betraying no genuine emotion other than determination. They were beautiful. Incredibly beautiful and mesmerising. So beautiful that the crowd itself did not know where to stand, like Minjoo. Suddenly, the mixed look Kim Chaewon had given her a few minutes ago came back into her thoughts, and holy , it was the same girl who'd just leaned over the boy's leg, their hands gracefully running along the ice as they were hydroblading, one on top of the other. Next, they did more crossovers, dancing with their arms and upper body, placing their hands on their mouths to kiss me on the mouth, throwing it aside to set me free. They jumped again, in what caused raw exclamations, spinning faster and faster. On a beat, their magnificent bodies were sealed, and they started spinning together until they took off and continued to skate on the track, looking at each other as gracefully as a swan on turquoise water.

The modern music became even more intense, and Kim Chaewon found herself hoisted onto the boy's tights again, this time standing up. With disconcerting ease, she captured her skate, her leg going above her head, forming a moon that illuminated the whole dark rink as the spotlight was on them. Everything sped up, the jumps, the spins, the lifts, hydro blades and spirals. I can be the subject of your dreams. Then they slowed down, spun one last time next to each other, and returned to their initial position, Hwang Hyujin with his hair in a mess, one hand on the waist of the skater whose uneven breath was making her chest swell, her gaze riveted on the juries. Please don’t bite.

"Wow."

"I know," Eunbi smiled, reducing the sound of deafening cheers and excited commentators yelling how crazy the Korean couple was. "Impressive, right? Worth their first place. We'll watch it again, and I'll tell you the mechanics behind it so you can understand what we are working on now."

-

For the first time, it was the other way around before going to bed. Minjoo started rambling about Kim Chaewon to Yena. She told her roommate how she was so calm and collected, how she had long eyelashes, some lighter shades of pink strands and a rosy complexion, despite some scratches and pimples on her cheeks. Moreover, she described how her voice was so high-pitched, a little honeyed, especially when she giggled. Minjoo informed how she had mentioned Seohan, and strangely enough, she had the similar reaction as Yena; a frown. The older girl asked her questions and the more she tried answering them, the more the vision of the skater in the silver outfit jumping in the air, the sound of her little laughter, the coldness of her gaze and yet the intensity she knew how to put into them came back. All in once, like a big knock right into her stomach.

Minjoo went on Instagram after Yena had fallen asleep and searched the skater's profile, watching every story where Kim Chaewon was standing in front of a mirror in different outfits and music. Minjoo looked at those highlights with her friends, other national figure skaters or that one picture of her wearing a black mask in a plane to Toronto and the many landscapes and Hyunjin posts. Oh, and she watched all the performances videos until her phone died out of battery. Left alone with Yena's light snores, the sole thing she could think about was Kim Chae Won. And she knew she was ed up.