JIMIN POV:
It feels like a thousand eyes on me when I enter the rink. A thousand eyes that slowly shrink down to just the team's. And even then there's something cautious, something that flits with uncertainty, tiptoeing over a line that they seem to be trying to decide who crosses first.
"We missed you in training Jimin-ah." Jackson murmurs, eyes appraising me carefully. Slowly looking me over.
"Couldn't have been too important—Coach told me to take a break. Rest up." words sardonic, smile dry, bitter.
Yugyeom and Bambam quietly exchange glances—communicating wordlessly.
Something cold and assessing in their glances, something I realise with no little surprise isn't directed towards me when they finally speak.
"Coach was pissed. Good on you hyung." the gleam in Bambam's eyes sharp with a ruthless edge. Vindictively pleased.
"Did you just say—"
"Should've let us in on your little secret. We'd have gladly joined." Yugi adds, an amusement curling through his voice, a sharp taunting edge that's laced with steel, as sharp as the blades on his skates. Eyes glittering as if he'd thoroughly enjoy the prospect of pissing Coach off. Of playing hooky.
"As if." I snort. Some tension rolling out of my shoulders, spine loosening slightly.
"We train our asses off every training session. I wouldn't have minded partying a bit more."
"Daytime drinking—" Bambam interjects with curled lips.
"What better excuse than qualifying did we need to get shit-faced?" JB's own teasing lilt has my eyes snapping to his with surprise, head jerking upwards.
That same solidness that Joon possessed, the backbones of our team—it's surprising, startling to see a flicker of some quiet anger brew in his eyes.
As if he reaches his own conclusions and the displeased scowl that briefly flickers across his face before his face creases with a conspiring mischief.
"You guys are—"
A team.
Something about the way they pull the unease off me, shouldering it between themselves, until my spine is loose and my stance more relaxed—something in that moment brims with a feeling of team. This... this is what Coach should be fostering, building up in us and not—
"Nice of you to show your face Park. Decided to grace us with your presence today?" sharp, biting, sarcastic.
The injustice of it all surges up, a renewed roaring feeling of that same blistering shame and anger welling up, a burning tidal wave that threatens to—a hand places itself on my shoulder, squeezes tightly. Bracingly.
Backing me up but also quietly telling me to roll with it. Brush off the underhanded jab.
Eyes stony, glancing briefly towards me as if to say he's playing nasty, don't rise to it.
But ever since that match, the feeling of wanting to rise to it, shame twisting in my gut, is harder to force down this time.
"Felt upto practising, gotta have our heads in the game for the next big match—it gets us forward in the qualifying, gets us closer to competing as representatives for Seoul ice hockey." Voice level, controlled in a way the biting anger rolling through me isn't.
Coach's brows rise but he doesn't retaliate, tight-jawed as he nods, gaze sweeping over the team and skipping right past me, seeing past me.
Ignoring me.
YOU ARE READING
On Thin Ice
FanfictionYou should always test the ice before you go to stand on it. You should test the limits and strengths of the ice before you entrust yourself to it. You should trust the slippery solidness of the ice before you become one with it.
