Title from "Gold - Cabu & Akacia"
 

One touch, turn these tears to gold 
So take time, feel your flow
Setting them goals, tell me all you know
On stairwells, broken bones
But I believe in gold

////
 

Holding her breath, Irene lets the feeling of nothingness take over. There is so much peace at the bottom of a swimming pool. No one can touch her here, no one can try and get a rise out of her here, no one can place her on some pedestal and turn her into a merchandise or propaganda, not here.

She tucks her legs towards her body, the tension diffusing into the chlorinated water as she sinks deeper, meticulously recreating each twist and turn to make a perfect dive in her mind. What am I missing? She constantly questions herself during these sacred training post mortems. There is no room for a single wrong calibration.

Rio is anticipating her. There’s no more opportunities after this. At 25, most of her teammates and rivals have already retired or are planning to hang up their swimsuits after Rio and yet, here she is. Practicing and practicing for her first games. It’s a bitter pill to swallow to be very honest.

It would be hard to count Beijing as her debut Olympic Game when she barely performed a dive, before the accident happened.

 

Gymnastics was how she initially had her first taste of competitive training. Her love has always been spinning, cartwheeling, twisting and balancing on beams and bars. It was always fun. She was good at what she did, handstands were always her preferred mode of transportation and her parents always joked that they’d sell her off to the circus.

Diving was never on the cards; Irene had never been a strong swimmer and heights scared the hell out of her but it surprised her how similar the two sports were as she watched it on television. The amount of grace that exuded from the divers as they executed each dive, the amount of control over their bodies and the technicalities of each dive amazed her and she just had to try.

Trying turned into determination to master each and every dive. Leaving her beloved bars and trampolines for the springboards was inevitable.

Slinging her gym bag over her shoulders, Irene takes one good look around the entire complex before finally heading out. Tomorrow, she leaves for Rio.

 

//

 

Even though she started later than her peers, she was a national champion by 14. Asian Champion by 15 and became the first Korean to became the best in the world when she was 16. And the pressure mounts, of course it would, she’s a prospective gold medalist and her performance is being anticipated by her South Koreans and everyone in the diving world.

And even though she’s the favorite, she can’t help but feel like the underdog.

The unexpected return of Irene Bae. 

With all the pressure mounting atop of her, it’s simple impossible for her to appreciate the pure wildness of a true Brazilian party that she’s been invited to. Irene’s been told a million times that Brazilians know how to throw a party but she never expected it to be this wild. There’s way too much dancing and music and so much energy which would have been fantastic on an ordinary night. But tonight, is leagues away from the usual.

Its three in the morning when she finally gets back to her room. Her body clock is screwed up and she’s starving. Staring at the food coupons on the table, she grabs it and heads out. Ironically, the only food outlet is a MacDonald’s and she’s crossing her fingers that it’ll be empty considering that it’s the dead of night.

What greets her is a snaking queue that has no tail or head. Just people and she sighs but her stomach grumbles. Having a Big Mac shouldn’t be that bad. Twenty minutes later, she feels a light tap on her shoulder and turns to figure out who has decided to bother her. It’s an Asian lady that looks younger than her. Her hair is light and tied into a messy bun and dons a black hoodie with the words ‘CANADA’ boldly branding her chest in red.

Irene knows exactly who this person is and her jaw drops. Swimming Goddess, Wendy Son has decided to grace her ing presence.

She greets her, stuttering a hello in English and Wendy smiles and shakes her head, repeating the words back to her in Korean.

“You’re considered a traitor in my country.” Irene doesn’t know what has possessed her to utter those words to Wendy Son. But there. She said it. Out loud. She’s already won two gold medals in the past two days. Irene is convinced she’s going insane.

Thankfully, the younger girl laughs, genuinely amused. “Nothing to do with me. My parents were the ones that decided to skip town.”

Irene nods, impressed. “Your Korean is really good.”

“Well, I usually converse in Korean at home. I’ve had loads of practice. And I watch loads of dramas too.” Wendy grins, looking extremely proud of herself.

“Are you sure you’re allowed to eat fast food? Aren’t you supposed to be on some super strict and top secret special celebrity athlete diet?”

Wendy’s eyes light up, “MacDonald’s. That is the secret.”

Wendy Son. Who doesn’t know about her? The kid that broke the surface of the pool four years ago and snatched five gold medals on her debut showing. Born in Canada to South Korean parents, she probably eats talent for breakfast.

Her face has been splashed in every newspaper, Irene can’t go online without seeing her face or reading her name. It didn’t help when a video of her dragging every single reporter over their ist reporting during a press conference for calling her the ‘female Michael Phelps’ hit 20 million views in a day.

“I can’t eat any meals without kimchi.” Wendy sighs, sounding so wistfully that Irene pities her. A little.

“You didn’t bring any with you?” and Wendy shakes her head in an affirmative no.

No kimchi addict would ever dare to forget such a necessity. Irene looks at her skeptically, “You were hoping to sponge off the South Korean Team, weren’t you?”

“Maybe. Yes?”

“I’m not inviting the enemy back to our place.”

Wendy sighs and she pouts, something that usually irks Irene endlessly. Usually. “Help me out here. We might have like, the same ancestors?”

Irene figures out that she’s a er for swimmers with puppy dog eyes because she sneaks the swimmer into her room in the middle of the night. At least Wendy seems satisfied with her ridiculously simple supper of rice and kimchi because she can’t stop smiling while she continues to gorge herself. Irene is sure that Wendy has broken every food ban that must have been placed on her but she looks so satisfied that Irene says nothing.

She finishes her meal and pats her tummy happily. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You are kind of a God, everyone in the South Korean community back in Canada knows you. My mum is rooting for you.”

Irene draws back in surprise. “Oh. That’s a surprise.”

“I would assume that everyone’s rooting for you back home too.”

“I guess so? Calling me a God is kind of an overstatement, isn’t it?”

Rooting is an understatement. The entire country is convinced that she’s assured of the gold. Every local news channel has been reporting about her current progress. Everyone has been desperately trying their damn hardest to secure exclusive interviews with her or anyone within her inner circle. Companies are lining up to have her as their spokesperson and there’s even rumors of a film adaptation about her. Her entire past is once again dredged back out from the shadows for the whole world to see.

Simply put, Irene’s pretty much a hero in her home country. Celebrity athlete. Regional diving queen. An actual diving god.
 

//
 

After dry training, she warms down with Seulgi. Carefully stretching tired muscles, Irene can’t help but be struck by the thought of how thankful she is for her. Never in her wildest dreams did she think it was possible for her to start training competitively again. There was just too much fear within her, too many worst-case scenarios. She should just be thankful she’s able to everyday why she’d chosen diving all those years ago. Guided and helped her overcome her traumas. Stuck to her like a leech and Irene caved. Caved because she wanted to dive so bad and no amount of excuses could stand in her way this time.

With her toes at the edge of the makeshift board, she closes her eyes and pictures her dreams. She worries that on the actual day might falter and fall and split everything in half once again. And she doesn’t want that. She wants to dive. Wants to fly and feel the wind before she enters the water.

Hands lifted, her feet propel her upward and forward. Her body folding inwards in a pike position before extending her legs and preparing with the springboard.

Irene lies on the trampoline that divers use to practice their dives on. Her body is thrumming with energy. The sun is setting and the sounds of water splashing and showerheads sprouting feel like a strange homecoming.

“We’re ready.” Seulgi says as releases her sweat soaked bun. They both know they’re ready but still. All it takes is one easily overlooked and unassuming variable to screw everything up.

“So are the Chinese. And the Russians. Did you see the American twins during the semi-finals? Absolutely crushed it.” Irene reminds her teammate. It’s been so long since the injury, since everything. With every flip and twist, Irene feels tighter, feels the feeling of overconfidence squeezed out from her like water being wrung out of a towel.

The younger girl waves her away. “We’re going to crush them.”

 

//

 

Irene spots her as she enters the pool. It’s late and the swimming events don’t start until tomorrow. It’s the calm before the storm. Tomorrow, blood will be shed as the arena transforms into a warzone. Until then, this is home. But the peace is broken when a noisy whiz floats into the arena.

The swimmer gently kicks her skateboard, staring intently at her phone and Irene can’t help but hope she falls into the pool for entertainment purposes. It’s not like she’d drown or anything. But the Canadian remains safely on the concrete and floats past Irene without noticing her.

“I was expecting a warm welcome since I did feed you but I forgot about the egos of Olympic champions. As big as their appetites.”

Wendy’s head snaps into the diver’s direction, startled by her voice. She waves and makes her way towards her on the front step of the seats.

“Hey Korea. Didn’t see you.”

Irene sticks her tongue at her, maintaining her fake displeasure. “Go away.”

“By any chance – Have you seen a Gyarados here?”

“A what?”

Shoving her phone into Irene’s face she shows her the silhouette of the mentioned Pokémon but Irene gives her a puzzled look and the Canadian’s shoulders slump. “Damn it. It’s here. I can feel it.

“Don’t you have better things to do? Like prepare for your heats tomorrow?”

Wendy looks Irene in the eye very seriously, “I already have Olympic medals. I do not have a Gyarados.”

“I can’t believe people actually idolize you.”

“I honestly don’t know why either.” Wendy shrugs, slightly uncomfortable. She directs her attention back to the game but she fidgets before finally turning back to the diver. “I’m glad that you decided to compete again. It must have been a difficult decision.”

Her lips curve into an upturned smile. Difficult was a word that she’d definitely use to describe the days, months, even years after the accident. She was filled with so much resentment and regret and embarrassment for so long. It consumed her. Irene remembers being so filled with rage, so filled with anger at herself and she directed it at everyone and everything. Her teammates, her parents, the media, diving. Everything was hazed to the ground and she burned every bridge she ever built.

 

“I loved it first yknow? Diving. I fell in love, then my parents and my coach loved it. Then the country loved it. Then an entire continent. Or maybe they loved watching me do it. I didn’t know when everyone’s love for me to dive burdened my simple relationship with diving. It used to be so easy but suddenly I was forced to love diving.”

“I slipped. I don’t know how, but I lost my footing when I launched myself off the board. Next thing I know there was so much pain and I’m freefalling 10 meters into the pool below. The doctors told me that I hit my head on the board and my skull cracked. They told me I was lucky that only a minimal amount of chlorine got into the wound and that I was lucky to be alive. Taking another dive would be almost impossible and everyone was so disappointed. And eventually they moved on from me. I was just another thrashed medal hope. I wasn’t even a person with feelings.”

“I’m sorry. It must have been hard. An athlete’s life is to be lonely but going through all that and coming back even stronger…you gained all my respect.” The swimmer looks at her like she understands, the hardship, the joy and everything in between. And something tells her this should scare her. There are warning alarms in her head telling her to back off but it’s too late.

Wendy envelops Irene in a hug and everything goes away.

Hard. Hardship is something that stands in everyone’s way, much less an athlete. Everyone faces it, and somehow everyone gets through it with their own means. Hardship was something that she had to take, even when it came in full dosages. There was no escaping it.

And it was hard. daily life became a little different. Remembering things, especially became difficult and some days the headaches are so terrible, she lies down and does nothing.

She waited tables, waiting for life to take her in a new direction. Irene hadn’t even planned to watch the London Games until the restaurant she was waitressing at streamed the games live. Four years later, and she still couldn’t strip the shame and embarrassment that she felt prickle when the pool came into view.

But she watched as a then 18-year-old Canadian swimmer won her first gold medal ever, smashing the original world record that had stood for over 15 years. Until today. Watched as the girl leapt, her hands pumping, splashing water everywhere, people cheering. Watched as the young swimmer went on to win another gold and stand on the podium with a smile that makes Irene nostalgic.

For the first time in four years, it made her miss the pool. It made her miss being in love with the water.

Crawling back to the national team was hard. They were all hesitant and worried but Irene tried, tried and pleaded and promised. Her efforts allowed her to return to training but they treated her like glass, fragile and it sickened her.

She’d spent the past four years treating herself like brittle glass, instead she stepped on all her broken pieces. But Irene was made of sterner things. Life was hard, yes, but god, Irene knew it was all worth it.

 

//

 

The world watches, captivated by a jubilant young Canadian collects her third gold medal of the games by touching home a whole-body length ahead of her closest competitor. The cameras flash as her national anthem plays and fans of every nationality are cheering for her.

Irene can’t help but smile when her phone vibrates.
 

Wendy the Gr888:
Did u see that? I won :)
 

Kimchi Supplier:
It wasn’t that impressive

 

Wendy the Gr888:
I think you’re jealous of medal number 3 ;)

 

Kimchi Supplier:
Or maybe you’re just jealous of Gyarados CP 3000

 

Wendy the Gr888:
u
I knew you caught it damn it

 

Seulgi watches from the sidelines as the diver smiles at the phone, flashes a rare kind of smile that she’s been seeing less and less frequently that she was worried it had disappeared. But Irene has been smiling when Seulgi had been anticipated the total opposite.

They’re sitting at the highest row as spectators, the award ceremony ending minutes ago.

“Hey, do you know how to get back there?”

“I doubt you’d want to get caught up in that media frenzy right now.”

Irene face falls visibly and she tucks her phone into her pocket. Readjusting her cap, she makes a motion to leave and Seulgi nods.

“Are you going to sneak more kimchi to her?” Seulgi jokes but the older girl spins so fast that it catches Seulgi by surprise.

“Who told you?”

“I saw you guys sitting at the lounge in the middle of the night.”

Irene sighs in relief and continues walking towards the exit. “Oh okay.”

Once they’re out and back into the streets and people are chanting ‘Wendy Son’ can be heard, Seulgi takes a good look at Irene, before saying, “You look happy. I thought we came here for the gold. I forgot you’re an overachiever.”

 

//

 

The pool comes alive and Irene catches up with old rivals that have become friends and politely greets the newer faces. Seulgi is a ball full of nerves and Irene senses it. It becomes fully displayed when their first dive barely scores a seven among the judges. She watches and analyses each competitor dive, spots for mistakes and makes mental notes to avoid them instinctively

“We got this, remember? Your words, not mine.” The older girl reminds and Seulgi nods, but she is young and her inexperience is showing.

“You were right about the twins. They’re good.”

“They’re good but we’re the best. We’re going to win because we don’t know how to lose. We’re going to fight because we don’t know how to die quietly.”

Seulgi the cutthroat competitor is jolted back and revived instantly. They climb right back into second place and cut the lead down to two points. The Chinese have always seemed unreachable but never to Irene, not when she’s beaten them at every other sporting event but this. The Russians trail them closely and the American twins are still unshakeable.

As they watch the Russians plunge 10 meters down, a strange calm settles over them. It’s a good dive, but not a gold medal worthy one and they know it. Seulgi and Irene pad across the board and stand at the very edge before the younger girl starts the countdown. Both smile, a gold medal dive must always be perfected during training and both girls know exactly how to execute it.

Irene spins and twists and tucks and begins her descent. She lingers slightly longer then she should in the water below where she can’t hear anything or see anyone. When she kicks her legs, she’s ready to face the world again.

Sitting on the steps, they wait with bated breath. The crowd roars as the results are finally flashed but it takes Irene a longer time to scan and process the numbers. Seulgi tackles her into the pool and she finally understands the raucous reaction.

The diving queen has finally claimed her crown.

 

The new diving gold medalists for the 10m synchronized diving events are swept up by a media storm and everyone bombards her with questions about her walking away from the sport and the accident and it comes as a relieve when someone does start asking them how it feels to finally be gold medalists.

She doesn’t get back until late and the notifications appearing on her phone look like it may take a mile to scroll from end to end. Irene’s about to toss her phone in a corner when it starts vibrating.

“Hello.” She whispers, even though there’s no reason too. The floor is empty; everyone’s either still partying or training but there’s just something about this moment that is so precious. “Where are you?”

“Outside your block.”

“Could you invite yourself up? I’m too tired to go down.”

 

//

 

Wendy shuffles into her room wearing a white oversized shirt and short shorts and jumps onto the bed that Irene lies on.

“Hey champ.”

“Were you watching?”

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” Wendy grins as Irene stares at the ceiling while fiddling with the straps of her new medal. “You did good.”

“I can’t believe it. I mean I still have an individual event later this week. But still. Wow.”

The athlete’s village is never quiet. There’s always some sort of festivities somehow, somewhere. Someone is throwing a party for being the strongest human being alive and another is drowning their sorrows. There is always a strange buzz in the air here.

Irene celebrates her win a little differently. Others might be hit the dancefloor or maybe have a glass or two. Some might make a vlog sharing and detailing their happiness and hard work. Seulgi celebrates it by sleeping; a reward for the insane amount of hard work that only she and Irene will ever know.

For Irene, she celebrates by kissing a girl that’s so similar yet so different from herself. One is a giant in the pool and the other faces the giant every time she climbs the stairs to the board.

It’s soft and quick and when she pulls away, Irene feels a familiar notion, something akin to waiting for her score as she pops right out of the water. But Wendy smiles blindingly and collapses onto the bed in a fit of giggles. She reaches out for the diver, one hand cupping the back of her neck and pulls her down to connect their lips once again.

 

//

 

When the light starts to peak past the blinds, Wendy is immediately awoken. She’s developed a strict disciplined routine of waking up early and training and never wasting time. But today she wants nothing more than to go back to sleep and bury her face into the sleeping girl’s neck.

Unfortunately, she gently unfastens the hands that have looped around her body and creeps out from the bed that doesn’t belong to her and quickly runs to the toilet. She makes an absolute scene while trying to leave the room and it rouses the sleeping girl.

“You’re leaving?”

“Yeah, gotta meet coach, today’s the big day.”

“World record.” Irene mumbles as she tries to rub the sleep out of her eyes. She sits up as Wendy leans down to press a kiss to her temple. “C’mere.”

She presses their lips softly and runs her thumb over the swimmer’s jawline. Maybe Irene is a spy sent to sabotage her chances. She swears her heart skips when she hears the little giggle escaping from the girl beneath her. Collapsing right back into bed with Irene is just so tempting; Wendy could spend forever tangled in these sheets making ridiculous jokes about South Korean dramas, listening to Irene gush about Park Tae Hwan or Michael Phelps and how they’re the prefect swimmer in her eyes.

It’s worth it because Wendy knows that Irene loves it when she just a little jealous, how she gets a little possessive. Pulling her closer, kissing her deeper.

But right now, her coach is waiting for her. Her countrymen are all getting out of bed preparing to watch her in action. The world is sitting in anticipation if she’ll claim the eighth and last medal and record. All she can think about is how proud Irene will be when she touches home first.

Will she leap up from her seat? Or will she smile secretly looking at her with pride in her eyes?

“You going to be there today?”

“No way I’m going to miss history being made.”

 

//

She touches the wall and tears her goggles away. She hears cheers and screaming but she is focused solely on the scoreboard. Her eyes are still blurry, still trying to adjust. There’s a blurry red smudge beside her name, first on the board obviously but she’s aiming for something even better.

WR, it reads. World Record. She’s shaved her previous record by 9 seconds.

“Did you see me race today? I was really fast.”

“Oh really? How fast?”

“I broke a record today. My own. Been trying to do so for like the past 4 years.”

“I might have heard; you have many South Korean fans. Team Canada should really consider including my name onto their payroll. All I had to do was give you a few kisses and there you have it, a world record.” Irene whispers smugly after everything has ended. After tense seconds and heartbeats. After jubilant celebrations and press conferences and interviews and autograph signings.

Wendy’s reward is a gold medal, a girl resting snuggly in her bed and the knowledge that she is the fastest swimmer on this planet.

“I can’t believe I had to go through all that just to get a girl.”

Irene bursts out laughing into the swimmer’s neck and there’s something so addictive about the sound that Wendy can’t help but laugh along too. Fingers trace the back of Wendy’s tattoo on the back of her neck. Five interlocking black circles forming the Olympic symbol. It’s every athlete’s dream to mark their body with these five rings. “I never said I would be easy.”

 

//

 

Seulgi’s heart wrenches. It wrenches whenever she sees Irene like this. It’s a full-blown anxiety attack and she’s trying to be calm but Irene is shivering and Seulgi’s very sure that Irene has shut down and stopped processing anything that she’s saying.

It doesn’t help that there’s a sudden unmistakable pitter patter of wet footsteps entering the shower area which would only make the situation worse.

Irene faces the wall in fetal position and Seulgi tries so hard to get her to sit upright but she knows how delicate and sensitive Irene is towards touch during attacks like these. Seulgi tries to be discrete but sighs inwardly when it’s too late and people have entered the room.

It’s a loud smattering of laughter and strange English and Irene curls into herself even more. She’s trying to block the sounds out but everything is just so loud.

“Is she okay?” A panicked voice speaks from behind Seulgi and she turns to see Wendy rushing to kneel beside her.

“No. Anxiety attack.” Seulgi whispers, making sure only Wendy can hear her.

She watches as Wendy tries to maneuver her body to get as close to the diver without actually touching her and signals for her teammates to lower their voices. Seulgi gives them a grateful smile when the raucous noise subsides.

They both help her with a breathing exercise that Seulgi usually uses when Irene gets attacks similar to this one. Wendy’s teammate hands something to the swimmer. It’s a tiny black cube with green dots of vary sizes on each cube face. It’s an anxiety cube and there’s a silent solidarity in the simple action.

It’s very easy to feel alone when you’re an athlete even though everyone is going through similar experiences.

Wendy passes the tiny cube to Irene. Seulgi talks about anything mundane, outlining how her mother plans to fatten both Irene and her up after the games. Wendy talks about the small town she came from, how her family was the only group of Asians living there.

They take turns, sharing something about themselves as Irene starts to unfold. Eventually, she turns to face her two friends to whisper a quiet ‘thank you’. She’d thought that she’d be able to manage this part of herself by now. This stress that always consumes and becomes larger than life. She hates how it affects her, how it’s able to paralyze her and leave her shaking in fear.

Seulgi always seems so collected and calm and Wendy, Irene knows that she has her struggles but the swimmer always gets up after being knocked down. She’s always able to come back fighting back ten times harder.

Irene feels a gentle hand on her shoulder. She turns to find Wendy smiling fondly at her. Seulgi stands proudly beside her. “I know some days are hard. But we’re built out of sterner things, aren’t we? You said that before one of my events when I was a kid. We’re diamonds, indestructible.”

Wendy nods in agreement at her newly minted friend. “We believe in you. And I know you believe in yourself too. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Everything could go wrong.” Irene finds herself whispering fearfully.

Its Seulgi that speaks, with a bright smile on her face. “And God, think of what happens when everything falls into place instead.”

 

//

 

Everyone is waiting for a chance, an opportunity. Years and hours and minutes and seconds of training, of endurance have been put in for that one moment where you will take a leap of faith. Nothing is assured. You can always practice to perfection, strive for it, but perfection will never be attained. It is an endless chase that has motivated so many.

Maybe the diver had been bitter. Bitter because all that waiting for the perfect time where luck and skill combined slipped from her fingers. Bitter because she knew it would never come back.

But as she stands on the 10-meter platform, the world watching, a particular swimmer cheering, a gold medal waiting, Irene doesn’t feel the enormous animosity that had been festering within her. She didn’t know when she’d finally cleansed herself from it but it’s gone. She feels light and free.

It’s the finals for the individual 10m dive. The last time she was in a similar position, she almost died.

It’s her final dive and she’s about to execute the dive that almost killed her. It’s also the dive that made her strong again. A simple irony but oh, the world was filled with those. She smiles to herself. It’s a nice quote for the reporters later, imagining what the frontlines will look like.

Taking a deep breath, she leaps. A leap of faith, or a leap of trust, whatever it is, it feels good. After all, the pool is her domain; she’s royalty here and her throne is a gangplank that propels her to the heavens. Her turns are sharp and precise and the finishing feels light and quick. This is good.

Screams and cheers great her when she finally breaks the surface. The face person she sees is Seulgi, her lips pressed together, sighing to herself. Irene walks towards her but her eyes remained glued to the scoreboard. She watches as the number 1 besides Seulgi’s name on the board slips to a 2. Beams when her name bumps hers off.

“I could never defeat diving royalty.” Seulgi sighs as Irene jumps into her arms. Everything is good. This. This is good.

Irene beams at her partner; she’s young and tough and her time will come, just not today. “One day. Not today, but one day.”

 

//

 

Wendy finds her fiddling with her medal just before she steps out for her press conference. There’s barely anyone and Irene lights up and runs into her arms when she sees her.

“Hey Champ.”

“Hey.” Irene beams, looking tired and happy and everything in between. She’s cried and she’s laughed, celebrated and broken down at least a hundred times.

“Your prize has arrived.” Wendy announces as she spreads her arms out wide and Irene collapses into them immediately. She buries her face in her chest searching for the swimmer’s steady heartbeat. Does this magical feeling get diluted with every win? “That dive was perfect. You’re so goddamn perfect.”

 

//

 

Wendy trudges along ancient pathways, refusing to acknowledge the monument, a seventh wonder of the world, instead she stares at a brunette standing across from her. So near but yet so far. They’re on a tour of Rio and the South Korean team happens to coincidentally have the same tour as Canada.

She would apologize to Jesus for the disrespect but right now the girl she’s been worshipping won’t text her back.

Henry follows her gaze and nudges her at her roughly. “Trouble in paradise?”

Wendy shakes her head and sighs, “Radio silence. She’s good at shutting people out.”

“Consider yourself lucky that you even have her number. Do you know how many of the guys in the team tried to get it?” Henry scrunches his face in sympathy as Wendy’s frown somehow deepens even further.

“Great.” She mumbles under her breath as she watches her. It’s not like she’s stalking her; they’d just happened to be sightseeing at the exact same area, Christ the Redeemer. “Great, no wonder half the volleyball team has been trying to talk to her in the last half hour.”

“She’s really pretty.”

“She is.”

“Aren’t you going to talk to her instead of standing around here staring at her like a stalker?”

“Like I haven’t been trying.” Wendy knows that something has been off with Irene in the days leading up to this. Her smiles have been forced; her actions, laborious. Maybe she’s just tired but it can’t be a coincidence that Irene decides to ignore her and have a sudden change in body language. She worries if she’s overthinking.

After all, she’s just a twenty-two-year-old that’s possible in love with another human being that makes her laugh. She makes her relieve her non-existent teenage years again, crushing on pretty girls hoping they’ll notice you. Irene refuses to place her on a pedestal and it keeps her grounded in a way that no one has could before.

 

//

 

Tapping her feet nervously of the lift floor, Wendy storms out and immediately barges her way into Irene’s room.

There is a mess on the bed that strangely resembles a world class diver that used to have everything together and figured out. The sheets have been thrown haphazardly over a body that was once a temple of well-being but now lays desecrated and grim.

The simple lack of spirit and poise alarms Wendy as she approaches the bed and gathers the wreck that is Irene. Wendy notices the sniffles she tries to hide as she tries to dodge those sturdy arms that want nothing more for her to be whole again.

Irene stops struggling when Wendy kisses her temples and cries even loudly for help on the inside. How is she supposed to leave her?

That black spot into the future expands. She could see her six months from now, across the street in another country, kissing someone who isn’t her, holding another’s hand which isn’t Irene’s.

And it hurts. She never knew something could hurt more than a broken skull but heartache has always been an overachieving . The uncertain future scares her. There’s nothing there, nothing that Irene can discern. Only a black hole waiting, growing, feeding on her worst fears.

Being directionless is something that causes panic within Irene. Not only does she remain clueless about Wendy, she has yet to figure out what to do post-retirement. For the past four years, she’s trained with so much vigor and focus and now…. what now?

During the press conference, a reporter highlighted the seemingly budding friendship between Canada’s swimming superstar and South Korea’s diving darling and that lead to a flood of inquires such as how they were going to keep in contact when they’re going to be so far apart.

It’s silly. We live in the digital age now, Irene answers. But there are time zones and schedules and trainings and supermodels and prettier girls.

The thorns prickle through her skin, the negativity sprouting and hurting someone, or something might make it go away.

“Do you like me?” Irene chokes out. She hates how vulnerable she sounds but she needs to know that what they have, or are going to have had, was real.

Wendy can’t help but smile and presses her lips to the diver’s ears, “I think I’m in love with you.”

“How do you know; how can you be so sure?” Irene is so uncertain that it pains Wendy. It pains her that she doubts her and her feelings. Wendy has never been more certain that her heart pounds just for this girl. Certain that she’s fallen in love with her strength and all her broken pieces.

“Because a part of me is lost when you’re not around. Because I think you’re beautiful inside and out. You make me so happy, I think it’ll kill me if I can’t be yours. I don’t care how many miles separate us, it can’t break us.”

Wendy can’t decide if Irene wants to kiss her or kill her. But god, she’s the prettiest girl she’s ever seen. Her eyes are still rimmed red but the tears have stopped. She runs her thumb over her visible tear tracks and Wendy feels Irene shudder beneath her.

“How’re you so sure.” Her voice is soft, like velvet slipping through her ears when she speaks and Wendy finds herself shivering too.

“I’m the fastest swimmer in the world. It’s like whatever, what’s a few oceans when you’re going to be waiting at the finish line?” It earns her a soft laugh and a gentle kiss on her wrist as the older girl shuffles towards her. Hands frame Irene’s face and Wendy looks at her earnestly, with so much conviction that it makes her lungs constrict, and pulls her into a firm kiss.

“I’m so into you.” Irene breathes as Wendy moves to plant kisses on the slope of her jaw and feels a grin growing from the swimmer. “You’re going to ruin me.”

 

//

 

The flights are booked and the bags are packed. They’re ready for Tokyo. Have been ready for a while now. Seulgi is now a legit front-runner contender for diving gold. Wendy is the highest paid female sportsperson, has been a fixture on the Forbes list of top 5 most influential sports personalities and looks set to break even more records.

While Irene has been stocked for her last Olympic games, she’s extremely contented as she wakes with her girlfriend in bed. Soon they’ll have to part ways. Irene has to meet her team before heading to the airport while Wendy has to stealthily avoid any attention before she reaches Tokyo since the press has yet to know she’s made a one day pit-stop in Seoul.

“You’re my lucky charm, of course I’d sneak in one day to see you.” Wendy faux chides when she surprises Irene in her home a day ago.

They leave for Tokyo in six hours but for now the sun has yet to rise and the gentle rise and fall of Wendy’s chest lets her know that Wendy is still happily resting; the calm before the storm.

 

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