Third Person Pov

Jake tightened his laces, pulling them harder than usual as his mind wandered. He stared at the ice rink, trying to focus. This was the second time he was going to practice skating with winter, and he was doing everything he could to make this partnership work.

Winter stood beside him, her usual calm demeanor in place as she prepped for the session. She gave him a soft smile. "Ready to go, Jake?" she asked, completely unaware of the turmoil in his head.

"Yeah," he replied, though his voice lacked confidence.

They hadn't been on the ice long when he spotted Sunghoon and Karina stepping into the rink from the opposite side. Jake's stomach churned. The last thing he wanted today was to run into Sunghoon. He clenched his jaw, determined to not let it get to him.

"Great," Jake muttered under his breath. Winter gave him a puzzled look, but he waved it off. "Let's just focus on practice."

As they skated toward the center of the rink, Chan came over, clearly realizing the scheduling mix-up as his eyes darted between the two pairs. "Uh, alright, so... Looks like you'll both be practicing at the same time today," he said, trying to sound casual but aware of the tension. "Just stay in your zones, yeah?"

Both pairs nodded, but the air was already thick with tension. Jake and Sunghoon were each other's biggest motivators—and their biggest distractions.

Winter nudged Jake lightly, trying to keep his focus on their routine. "We've got this," she said encouragingly.

"Right," Jake replied, shaking off the unease. He pushed himself into their opening sequence, leading Winter into a graceful spin. But out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sunghoon and Karina glide across the ice with their flawless chemistry. Sunghoon's sharp, controlled movements were almost too perfect—as if he was trying to show Jake just how in control he was.

Jake's chest tightened. He wanted to focus on his own routine, but he couldn't help glancing over, seeing the way Sunghoon moved with Karina. They looked good together. Too good.

Winter noticed Jake's focus shifting and nudged him again, pulling him back to their practice. "Let's focus."

He gave her a brief nod, though his mind was elsewhere. As they spun out of a tricky sequence, he shot another glance at Sunghoon. Their eyes met briefly, and something unspoken passed between them—frustration, hurt, maybe even jealousy.

Sunghoon's jaw was set, his eyes steely with determination. He led Karina into an intricate spin, their lines clean and crisp. Jake couldn't help but feel like every move was meant to prove something to him, to remind him of what they used to have on the ice together.

The pairs skated on, both pushing harder than necessary. Sunghoon and Karina performed a flawless lift, their timing impeccable, while Jake and Winter countered with a difficult transition of their own. The back-and-forth was palpable—each move a silent challenge, each glance a provocation.

As the session wore on, the pressure mounted. Karina remained focused, but Winter began to sense something off in Jake's rhythm. During a brief break, she leaned in. "This doesn't feel like a normal practice. What's going on between you and Sunghoon?"

Jake forced a smile. "It's nothing. Let's just keep going."

But it wasn't nothing, and they both knew it.

Across the rink, Sunghoon was equally tense. He could feel Jake's eyes on him, watching every step, every move. The weight of Jake's gaze only made him push harder, his muscles burning with the effort. He needed to be perfect. He needed to show everyone—especially Jake—that he was still the best on the ice.

But the pressure was too much. As Sunghoon and Karina attempted a particularly fast turn, Sunghoon's skates wobbled, and for a brief second, he lost his balance. Karina steadied him, but the stumble had already happened. Jake had seen it.

Sunghoon cursed under his breath, his frustration bubbling to the surface. He hated that Jake had seen him falter.

Jake caught the mistake, and for a moment, concern flashed through him. Was Sunghoon pushing himself too hard? But that concern quickly gave way to the unresolved tension between them. Jake couldn't shake the feeling that everything was falling apart, both on and off the ice.

As the practice session came to an end, both pairs skated to the edge of the rink to remove their skates. The silence between Jake and Sunghoon was deafening. Karina and Winter made small talk, but the tension between the boys lingered.

Jake tugged at the laces on his skates, staring down at the floor. Sunghoon sat just a few feet away, but it felt like miles. His heart pounded, and every instinct told him to say something—to finally address the elephant in the room. But the words stuck in his throat.

Sunghoon felt the same. His parents' words echoed in his head, reminding him of their disapproval. "Jake's distracting you," they had said. "You're not winning because you're too caught up in him."

The pressure to be perfect, to live up to his parents' expectations, was crushing. And yet, no matter how hard he tried to push Jake away, he couldn't escape the pull. It was maddening.

Karina grabbed her bag and smiled at Sunghoon. "You did great today," she said, but he barely registered her words.

Jake stood, grabbing his things and getting ready to leave. But before he stepped off the ice, he glanced back at Sunghoon one last time. Their eyes met, and for a brief second, everything else—the rink, their partners, the tension—faded into the background.

Neither of them spoke.

Winter and Karina exchanged glances as they walked toward the locker rooms. "That was intense," Winter said, raising an eyebrow at Jake's silence.

"You think?" Karina chuckled lightly. "There's definitely something going on."

As Jake and Winter packed up, Chan came over with some final notes. "Both pairs did great today, but remember—it's not about outdoing each other. Focus on your own improvements."

Jake nodded absentmindedly, his thoughts still on Sunghoon.

Winter looked at him with concern. "You wanna talk about it?"

Jake shook his head. "No. Not yet."

Sunghoon, meanwhile, lingered on the ice, staring at the spot where he'd stumbled. The weight of his parents' expectations and the growing tension with Jake felt like too much to carry. For a long moment, he stood there, breathing heavily, trying to figure out how much longer he could skate around the problem.

Edge of the Rink: Where Pride Meets Passion | jakehoonWhere stories live. Discover now