I Love You On Thin Ice // kazuscara

2

"Where are you going at this hour?" Scaramouche's manager asked when Scaramouche changed into his boots, carrying his skating bag. 

Scaramouche turned his head around, eyeing his manager as he laid on the soft chair beside their beds, trying to eat yogurt without a spoon. 

"The rink, where else?" Scaramouche scoffed, tapping his head a little, "Use your brain for once, Tartaglia." he scolded, checking his skating bag to see if he's missing anything else. 

Childe arose from his seated position, walking over to Scaramouche, "Want me to drive you there?" he offered, holding the car keys that Scaramouche was looking left and right in his skating bag, grimacing.

Scaramouche shot him an annoyed look, "I don't need you hanging around the rink while I'm practicing, Ed Sheeran." he insulted as he stood up to grab the keys, but Childe lifted the keys up a little more; just enough to keep Scaramouche from reaching them.

Childe grimaced, Scaramouche gritted his teeth. "Alright, you bitch," he crossed his arms, "go drive the car for me, and make sure we don't crash. I'll be suing your family if it does happen." Scaramouche warned, zipping up his skating bag and swinging it over his shoulders. 

"Wait," Childe tried to halt Scaramouche, "I'm still in my pajamas, give me some time to change. Will ya?" he asked, running back to fumble in his suitcase for some spare clothes. Scaramouche tsked, opening the door of their room; not leaving Childe with any time to change.

"Hey, I'm not done yet! Don't leave!" Childe yelped, jumping with a single foot inside his ripped jeans. Putting his leg through the other trunk, his feet came out in the ripped hole instead of the hole he was supposed to put through. He cursed under his breath.

"I'm not looking at you while you change, you Russian fuckboy." Scaramouche snapped, his legs crossed as he leaned against the hallway wall. It was surprising for anyone that Scaramouche hasn't already ditched Childe, but then again, Childe's the one with the car keys.

When Childe finally came out of the room with the keys, Scaramouche made no hesitation to bounce off the wall he leaned on; walking towards the elevator on their floor. 

This hotel was specifically reserved for Olympic participators, they were allowed to bring no more than two people with them to aid them. Scaramouche, of course, had to take Childe with him. 

Childe was his manager. Well, the word per se doesn't specify what job exactly Childe does for Scaramouche, but Childe does like to raise his status by vaguely tagging the word "manager" on himself. 

He's Scaramouche's Personal Life Manager. Meaning, he takes care of Scaramouche like how a mother takes care of her child. Making food for Scaramouche, washing clothes for him, running errands for him when he's too lazy to do them himself. 

Scaramouche originally had no intentions of hiring a Personal life manager. But after attending the Olympics, he has dedicated so much of his time towards figure skating he forgets to take care of himself. During the worst, he was only surviving on a bread a day; which has made him pass out, and had to get sent to the hospital multiple times throughout his entire figure skating career. 

After he was passing out regularly three times a week, Scaramouche's teammates were all suggesting he hire a personal life manager. 

Scaramouche didn't want to, but his coach overheard their conversation, and was very willing to pay for Scaramouche's personal life manager.

Which was his satire journey on having Childe as his manager. Though he doesn't like to admit it, he really can't live without Childe around anymore. He was too used to calling for Childe when he needed something it would just be torture if he was gone from his life. Getting up and searching for the item he needed wasn't the best option, he'd much rather have someone do them for him.