𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭

thirty four

Delphine

The lights were blinding.

I blinked a few times, my eyes adjusting to the bright stage as I stood alongside the other skaters, each of us holding our breaths as they announced the winners.

The chatter of the crowd washed over me, muted like I was underwater, and all I could hear was the racing of my own heart.

It didn't matter how many times I'd competed—this moment, waiting to hear the results, was always the hardest.

Eliza was beside me, looking surprisingly calm despite the anticipation in her eyes.

She gave me a small, supportive smile, and I returned it, grateful that she was here with me in this moment. She'd skated beautifully tonight, and I knew she was hoping for a spot on the podium. And then there was me. This had been my best performance yet. I could feel it, deep down, like a fire that wouldn't go out. I'd given everything out there, left every ounce of effort on the ice.

The announcer's voice crackled through the speakers. "In third place... Ana Keller!"

The applause was polite but restrained. Ana smiled, stepping forward with practiced grace, waving to the crowd as she took her place on the podium. I barely knew her, just a name and a face from another rink. I could see her pride, the small smile that curved her lips. She deserved it; she was talented. But I barely felt the moment before it passed, a flicker of excitement before my gaze refocused, waiting, the anticipation pressing into my chest.

I squeezed Eliza's hand briefly, a shared reassurance. She was watching the announcer, her jaw set, like she was steeling herself for anything. I couldn't help but admire her; she'd worked just as hard as I had. The results would come down to the finest details, and I knew that. Still, a part of me hoped—no, knew—that I had a chance.

"And in second place..." The announcer paused, dragging out the moment. "Elizabeth Cunningham!"

Eliza's face broke into a grin, her composure shattering as she let out a small gasp of excitement. She turned to me, her eyes bright, and I hugged her tightly, whispering, "You did it, Eliza."

She pulled back, giving me a slightly teasing look. "You better win, Delphine. I'll kill you if you don't."

I laughed, but my heart was pounding harder now. Eliza stepped up to the podium, her smile lighting up the entire stage, her cheeks flushed with pride.

The applause was louder this time, some cheers rising from the audience, friends and family calling her name.

I felt a wave of pride for her, a sense of joy that was almost grounding.

But underneath it all, the thrill of possibility pulsed through me.

I could win this.

I knew it.

The announcer's voice softened, then returned, louder this time, as if to match the intensity of the moment. "And finally, in first place... Delphine Beauford!"

The world seemed to stand still for a moment, the sound of my name echoing, and then the applause roared around me, a rush of sound that broke through the quiet in my mind.

I couldn't move.

I couldn't breathe.

And then, in a blur, I was stepping forward, my legs carrying me onto the highest platform, the world bright and surreal around me.

I glanced over at Eliza, her smile wide and proud.

She clapped for me, her hands raised, her voice joining the crowd as she shouted my name.

Her pride warmed me, a steadying force that made me feel like this wasn't just a dream.

I'd done it.

After all the hours, the bruises, the late nights spent pushing myself to exhaustion, I'd done it.

A medal was placed around my neck, cold and heavy against my skin, and I stared down at it, the glint of gold almost blinding.

It felt like proof, something tangible to hold onto, a reminder that everything I'd worked for had finally paid off.

My fingers brushed over the smooth surface, my mind still catching up with reality.

The weight of it grounded me, like a reminder that this wasn't just a fleeting victory—it was something I'd earned, something no one could take away.

The announcer's voice faded into the background as the national anthem began, the familiar tune filling the stadium.

I tried to focus, to stay present, but my mind was a whirlwind, flashes of memories coming and going.

I remembered my first fall on the ice, the sharp pain of my knees hitting the cold surface, the disappointment that had settled in my chest.

I remembered the nights spent practicing, my body aching and sore, but never allowing myself to quit.

And now, here I was, standing on the top podium, the medal around my neck a symbol of everything I'd overcome.

As the music ended, I took a deep breath, letting the moment sink in. Eliza reached over, squeezing my hand with a grin that was both teasing and proud.

I returned it, feeling a swell of gratitude for her, for all the moments she'd pushed me, encouraged me, laughed with me when I needed it most.

This wasn't just my victory; it was ours.

The ceremony ended, and we walked off the stage together, the crowd's applause still echoing in my ears. Eliza laughed, pulling me into another hug, her arms tight around me as she whispered, "You were incredible, Delphine."

I pulled back, smiling at her. "So were you. You deserved that podium just as much as I did."

She rolled her eyes, brushing off my words with a playful wave. "Please, this was your night. I could feel it from the second you stepped on that ice." She paused, her gaze softening as she looked at me. "I'm so proud of you, Delphine. You have no idea."

A lump formed in my throat, but I swallowed it, nodding as I blinked back the emotion. "Thank you, Eliza. For everything."

The rest of the night passed in a blur of congratulations and handshakes, faces and voices blending together in a whirlwind.

I couldn't stop smiling, a kind of dazed joy settling over me.

I'd never felt this way before—this complete, this sure of myself.

The weight of the medal around my neck felt like a constant reminder, a steady presence that anchored me in this moment.

And as we left the rink, stepping out into the cool night air, I looked up at the stars, feeling a quiet sense of peace settle over me.

This was just the beginning, I knew that.

There would be more competitions, more challenges, more nights of pushing myself to the edge.

But for now, in this moment, I allowed myself to feel proud, to revel in the victory I'd worked so hard to achieve.

This was my moment.

I didn't have to pretend I didn't deserve it.