Edge of the Rink: Where Pride Meets Passion | jakehoon

2

Third Person Pov

The weekend sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over Jake's room. He stretched lazily, relishing the fact that he didn't have any classes to rush to today. It had been a few days since his first day at Seoul National University, and he was slowly getting used to the rhythm of his new life.

Jake lay in bed for a while, replaying the conversations with Jungwon, Heeseung, and Ni-ki in his mind. Their warmth and welcoming vibe had been a pleasant surprise, making him feel comfortable in an unfamiliar place. Yet, there was something he missed deeply—the ice. He hadn't skated in days, and the itch to get back on the rink was becoming unbearable.

After a quick breakfast and a glance at the clock, Jake decided it was time. He packed his skating gear into his worn duffel bag and set off for the ice rink he had discovered earlier in the week. The walk there was brisk, the cool morning air bracing him with each step. His thoughts were a mix of excitement and anxiety—he hoped to find the rink empty so he could practice without interruptions.

As Jake approached the entrance of the rink, he noticed a figure already gliding gracefully across the ice. His heart sank a little; he had hoped to have the place to himself. He hesitated at the entrance, peering through the glass to get a better look at the skater.

The figure moved with a precision and grace that was mesmerizing. Each jump, spin, and glide seemed effortless, the skater's concentration unbroken by the world around him. Jake felt a pang of intimidation—this skater was clearly skilled, possibly much more so than himself. His heart rate quickened, and he felt the familiar grip of social anxiety tightening around him.

Jake took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. "You came all this way," he muttered to himself. "Don't turn back now." But as he watched the skater complete a flawless triple axel, his resolve wavered. The fear of being judged, of not measuring up, gnawed at him.

For a few minutes, he stood there, torn between his desire to skate and his anxiety about sharing the rink with someone so talented. He could almost hear the voices in his head telling him he wasn't good enough, that he should just go home and try again another day.

Finally, the anxiety won. Jake sighed, turning away from the entrance. He began the walk back to his dorm, feeling a mixture of disappointment and frustration. His thoughts raced—why couldn't he just push through the fear? Why did it always have to hold him back?

Back in his room, Jake flopped onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. He needed to find a way to overcome this anxiety, to not let it dictate his actions. The rink was a place where he had always felt free, yet now it was becoming a source of stress.

Determined not to let this setback ruin his weekend, Jake decided to distract himself with some schoolwork. He pulled out his textbooks and started reviewing his notes from the first few days of classes. As he immersed himself in his studies, the frustration slowly ebbed away, replaced by a quiet resolve.

He knew he couldn't let one moment of fear define him. Tomorrow was a new day, and he would try again. He would face the rink, whether it was empty or occupied, and he would skate.

As the afternoon turned into evening, Jake's thoughts drifted back to the skater he had seen. There was something inspiring about the skater's dedication and skill. Maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to learn from him instead of fearing him.