Above Par - Olympic Edition

Chapter 10 - The Weight of Expectations

Frederic:

Back in my quarters at the Olympic Village, I found myself pacing the floor, my mind a storm of conflicting emotions. The adrenaline from the day's competition had faded, leaving in its wake a tumult of regret and confusion. I had been so close to losing control, letting my frustrations get the better of me in a way I hadn't anticipated.

The memory of Felix's eyes, wide with surprise yet filled with unwavering defiance, lingered in my mind. I hadn't meant to lash out at him—not physically, not in the way I had. It was as if something had snapped inside me, a raw and uncontrollable force that had risen to the surface, demanding release.

I sank into a chair, my head in my hands as I tried to make sense of the whirlwind that had overtaken me. I had felt the anger boiling up, but it was more than that—there had been something else, something deeper, an unfamiliar need that had surfaced in that dim corner of the clubhouse.

Felix had challenged me, pushing back in a way few people dared to. He wasn't afraid to stand up to me, to call me out on my bullshit. And that infuriated me as much as it fascinated me. His presence was a constant reminder that I wasn't as infallible as I liked to believe.

But the way I had reacted—pinning him against the wall, the heat of my anger mingling with something dangerously close to desire—that wasn't me. At least, it wasn't the me I wanted to be.

I hadn't wanted to hurt him. I never wanted to see fear in those dark eyes of his, eyes that seemed to see through every façade I put up. And yet, I couldn't deny the thrill I had felt, the electric charge of being so close to him, the almost-kiss that had hovered on the edge of possibility.

I let out a long breath, raking a hand through my hair as I tried to clear my mind. I had to pull myself together. There was too much at stake to let this distraction derail everything I had worked for.

Yet even as I tried to convince myself of that, I couldn't shake the memory of Felix's presence—the warmth of his skin beneath my hand, the determination in his voice as he stood his ground. He was under my skin in a way that was both unsettling and irresistible.

I'd always been guarded, and with good reason. Growing up, my father had instilled in me the belief that success was paramount, and anything less was unacceptable. He had been a force of nature, his own career in golf cut short by injury, and he lived vicariously through my achievements. The pressure to excel was relentless, a constant weight on my shoulders that drove me to push myself harder than anyone else.

My personal life was no exception to this scrutiny. Relationships were distractions, and distractions were weaknesses I couldn't afford. I learned that lesson the hard way during one of my early championships when a whirlwind romance had thrown me off balance, nearly costing me the title. The experience had left a bitter taste in my mouth and reinforced the belief that I had to keep my focus sharp, my walls high, and my heart locked away.

Every relationship I'd had since was fleeting, never lasting long enough to leave a mark. The women I dated were beautiful and ambitious, but there was always something missing, a deeper connection I couldn't quite grasp. I was drawn to intensity, to those who challenged me, and it was a rare quality to find.

I had spent years ignoring the part of me that was drawn to men as well, brushing it aside as another complication I couldn't afford. But I'd always known that my attraction wasn't limited by gender. It was about the person, the energy they exuded, and Felix had that in spades.

He was different. He was a mirror to my soul, reflecting my own fears and desires back at me with unnerving clarity. He made me question everything I thought I knew about myself, and that terrified me as much as it intrigued me.

But acknowledging these feelings meant opening myself up to vulnerabilities I had long kept hidden. It meant risking the carefully constructed façade I'd built to protect myself from distractions and heartbreak. It meant embracing a part of me that I had tried to ignore for far too long.

As I sat there, contemplating the choices that lay ahead, I knew that I couldn't keep running from this part of myself. Felix was under my skin, and denying it wouldn't make it go away. It was time to confront the truth, to stop hiding behind my fears, and to see where this connection might lead.

But for now, all I could do was replay the day's events in my mind, grappling with the regret of how I had acted and the longing for something I was only beginning to understand.