Fire on Ice

Prologue

(Hey guys! I'm changing this book completely and I hope its better. Updates are every Saturday. Bye!)

(Also, the picture is Azayaka Hoshi, My Oc.)

Warmth. Heat. Cosiness. I wasn't very familiar with those words. In fact, I didn't think they were even in my dictionary.

I was cold-hearted. I didn't love anyone;Even pushed people away that cared for me. I hated it, even myself. I shouldn't have done that. I was stupid though, young and naive. I didn't really think about the consequences of my actions, but I should have.

Misery and guilt was the only emotion I felt when I lived in a small apartment. Nobody visited. Nobody cared. My neighbors stopped trying to coax me out of the house when I slammed the door in their faces.

But everything changed when I met him. Sparkling with elegance and fashion;oozing of grace and emotion.

It was love at first sight...or so I thought.

The man I met had long silvery, platinum blonde hair that swished from its low ponytail. His eyes were the most gorgeous and brilliant dimond blue eyes you would have ever seen. And his skating. Man, was his skating enticing. His outfit just added to his look;consisting of a plain black shirt and sweats with golden skates. It might look boring, but it just made it THAT much better!

I couldn't look away. He was beautiful.

At the time, I had a cold and blank face while I stood with my silver/white skates, pink shirt and purple sweats while getting ready to practice with my coach, but when I saw him skating with his coach, I froze.

I no longer wanted to be mean.

Never in my life had a warm feeling overcome me in such brilliancy. A rush of emotions that I had shut out. My heart pounded as I watched with wide eyes. The music drowneded out any sound of talking and he was center of attention.

I didn't want him to ever stop skating that wonderful dance on the ice. I wanted it to last forever...but my wishes never came true.

He stopped at his final pose, a sweet smile on his face as he bowed to a fake crowd. He skated to his coach, and as they talked, I got on the ice.

My coach was trying to help with emotion, since I didn't seem to have any, but the moment my music started;My facial expression wasn't cold. It was sad. I didn't usually cry in my routines, but I did this time.

The theme was melancholy, and grief. Sadness and tears. Crying over a loved one or a heartbreak, fearing the next days to come.

As I skated to the center, I looked at the ground, waiting for the music to start. I had one leg underneath me, while the other was pointed to the left side, my right hand was lazily by my side, while the other was to the left in a holding stance, and my head was facing the ground.

I pictured the lights dimming as my coach pressed play, and My head shot up at the first beat of instrumental music. I looked my coach directly in the eyes with a small tear running down the left side of my face,....And I danced.

Images filled my head; my mother grieving over my father. My 2 siblings crying as they hugged mother.

I skated to the left side of the rink, curling my body towards the ice and tucking my head in my hands as if crying.

The memories continued. Mother lost her job and became depressed, and my siblings got bullied repeatedly for their looks.

As I reached the end of the rink, I uncurled myself and jumped up, as if suprised while flinging my body backwards and turning into a toe loop. I spun in a spiral of memories and sadness as I continued to remember.

My mother died of stress and lung cancer, and we became orphans. I was bullied continuously as I tried to save my sisters.

I paused and continued forward, swinging my hands out in a stop motion with a pained expression.

Then I got adopted. I didn't have pleasent experiences with anyone who adpoted me, as they took advantage of my weak state. Whether it be stealing, cleaning or cooking; I worked like a slave. They didn't love me. They used me. Their words were fake.

I glided through the rink in tears, my legs doing multiple footwork designs while my hands clasped and clutched my head. Spinning and spinning, gliding and wirling, jumps and more spins.

Thats when I became cold. I got fed up with the lies they tried to feed me, and I stopped believing them. Cold-Hearted became my name since 14 I'm 16) and I ignored everyone who wasn't worth my time....which is everyone. I shut everyone out. Even the people who actually cared.

I stopped in the center again, and moved a hand to my face to cover one side. The visible one was crying while the other was was blank.

The music stopped.

My coach clapped in astonishment, happy that I showed emotion during the sad song, and hugged me as I stopped in front of him.

"Marvelous Azaya! Absolutely magnificent!" He yelled happily.

I nodded my head, my face going back to its blank state.

After that day, I never saw Mr.Silver again.

Well, Until competition day.

I had won 1st place in the ladies grand prix final for the fifth time, and was bombarded by everyone. I escaped though, and hid behind a wall.

After everything was safe, I sighed in relief and stood up, turning around but froze when I saw Mr.Silver standing with his coach and watching in amusement.

"Hello Miss." Was his first words to me.

From then on, everything changed.

We became friends, I had a crush on him, I smiled at everyone and he only considered me a friend.

Wow. Eventful right?

I learned that his name was Viktor Nikiforov and he was an ice skating champion. Not only was his skating glamorous but his fashion sense was off the walls amazing.

I could name a thousand reasons why I liked him. He was talented, kind, gorgeous, funny, wonderful and loved food. He was....

Also banging on my door at this minute.

I groaned and got up from my wonderfully warm piyo-chan sheets, and stumbled to the door like a drunk person, and opened it harshly.

"What?" I asked in a deadpan voice, while I stared at the smiling fluffball with his famous heart shaped smile, failing to see the suitcases behind him.

"Lets go to Japan!"