look at the stars | sunsun

two.

"Next up, representing South Korea in the 13-15 Age Division, Sunghoon Park!"

The fluorescents illuminating the rink are brighter than Sunghoon expected. Good, he thinks. The ornaments on my costume stand out in the light. Camera shutters restrict his movement in all directions, reluctantly clearing a path to the entrance for him.

He steps onto the ice, setting off a wave of whoops and cheers from the spectators all around. His skates are comfortable, worn to softness in all the right places, smooth over the newly resurfaced rink.

The music will start in three, two-

Sunghoon thinks about what color the medal ribbon will be this time. Dark blue, he supposes, like the banners that surround the rink at neat, regular intervals. He smiles. Dark blue goes well with gold.

One.

His routine is so familiar to him his feet move before he has to tell them to, cutting clean across the ice into the beginning step sequences. Ankles locked, chin poised, legs straight, shoulders back. All Of Me by Jon Schmidt is a beautiful song, but Sunghoon has drilled it a couple times too many to appreciate its euphony.

The choreography Coach Bang has given him doesn't waste any time, his first jump is a double toe loop and a double loop. Sharp, sharp lines. His arms are graceful as they spin, slicing the air like a blade through butter.

Triple axel, double flip. Time passes fast, these things come easy to him nowadays. He's confident of that gold.

"Splendid performance by Sunghoon Park!"

Splendid, marvelous, excellent, flawless.

Tell me something I don't know, won't you?

Sunghoon relaxes from the tension of competition as he enters the waiting area, his coach trailing behind him but not necessarily watching him. The wide room is full of people he's met many a time before, competitors he's skated alongside and against for years now.

All eyes fall on him as he walks in. Off to the sides the replay screens are still playing back his performance, and newer skaters' eyes widen as they make the connection between the flawless triples and the boy standing in the middle of the room.

Sunghoon likes the attention. After all, he's been a legend for a while now. People don't take their gaze off him as he moves, but they keep their distance. He walks alone.

The finals of the 2017 Junior Worlds is the first time Park Sunghoon meets Kim Sunoo.

He's standing just off to the side, dark hair falling into his face, arms and legs slender, almost ballerina-like in movement. Short, more than one head below any of the other skaters representing his country. Sunghoon remembers seeing him earlier during warmups, watching him miss a triple and tumble to the ice.

"They just let anyone into the finals now, don't they?" Sunghoon laughs. Heeseung elbows him with a vaguely reprimanding effect, but doesn't argue.

They're standing close enough to him that there's no way the smaller boy couldn't have heard it. But all he does is continue stretching, counting off one to ten softly to himself.

Sunghoon just scoffs and pulls Heeseung away. They've got better things to occupy their time with. He only sees the boy again at the announcement of placings, when all the skaters have finished competing.

Sunghoon takes first place, as he expected, as everyone expected. No one is surprised; the crowd is congratulatory and encouraging, cheering him on for a job well done. But Sunghoon's smile doesn't stay.

His eyes narrow at the scoreboard, scanning down the list.

Second place is someone named Sunoo Kim representing the United States, and the score is exactly 3.7 points away from his own.

Had I slipped on that triple axel at the end, I might not have gotten the gold.

He wonders vaguely who this Sunoo Kim is. He's familiar with all the other Korean skaters who've been competing since childhood, given they've been seeing each other at various national and international competitions for years now. He doesn't remember a skater by that name, nor does he remember one who can cut so close to his scores.

To tell the truth, it unsettles him. Sunghoon is accustomed to competition, but strong competition is rare, few and far between.

"Who is this?" He looks to his coach, who on his part doesn't seem to know any more than he does.

"I haven't heard of him at competitions before. It seems he's a newbie, that's what the other coaches were discussing. He does very nice triple axels."

Sunghoon burns with the indignity of almost being beaten by a newbie. Even he himself avoided doing triple axels in competitions, simply because the risks of not landing them properly were high enough to be the dangerous side.

He shakes his head to clear his messy thoughts, skating out to the podium to receive his medal. Cheering, cheering. Big smile, big wave, same old, same old. The number of times Sunghoon has stood in first place is likely too many to count.

"And now in second place, Sunoo Kim representing the United States!"

Sunghoon doesn't manage to conceal his expression as Sunoo Kim appears at the entrance of the rink.

Him?

Sunghoon straightens out his face, masking the disbelief from just a moment before. The dark-haired boy from the waiting room zips out into the middle of the rink, waving, smiling brightly. His hair has been sleekly styled back since the last time Sunghoon saw him, his black shirt and tights switched out for a resplendent costume of black and red.

Sunoo takes his place at the second step of the podium, still holding his smile. He doesn't seem to hold a grudge over what Sunghoon said about him earlier, or perhaps he has simply forgotten.

"Congratulations!" he says cheerfully, extending a hand to Sunghoon for him to shake. "You've always been my role model, I'm so glad to finally meet you!"

Sunghoon is decidedly not glad, but he plasters a smile onto his face and nods, taking Sunoo's hand politely. "Yes, yes, congratulations."

Sunghoon doesn't forget the 3.7 points.