Everwarming

Untitled Part 6

It was the final program. The final show. He laced his skates ever so loosely, not having the strength to tighten them. He was in the highest rank of the competition, but what did it matter? It meant nothing without him. The quarrel which took place only yesterday has left him in a trance. A curse that would only bring him misery. He didn't know why he had come, knowing he didn't have the motivation to even land the podium. 

The announcer called his name, he was as ready as he could've been. Pressing his blades into the ice as he prepared to fail. The music started, he started late. He was off beat, off rhythm, and unmotivated, giving him no urge to fix it. The choreography was more depressive than ecstatic, as it should've been. Nothing could ever give him the spark he needed to win. There were jumps, quads he had planned. He knew that if he tried, he surely would fail. He attempted them anyways, wanting to save the remaining pride and reputation he had. 

The first jump was up, a triple axel, followed by a double flip. With one swift stroke, he stumbled on the axel and barely stayed on his feet after the double. If this was what was going to happen, then he knew he wouldn't be able to win. The only ting he could do to make up the lost points was to add another quad in the program. The first quad was up after some shameful choreography. He slammed his toe pick into the ground, angry with his performance, and with "him." He rotated one after the other, two, then three, then planted his blade into the ice after the 4th. It was a rudimentary landing, but still landing it nonetheless. The last jump was a double, for his stamina wouldn't last as long as he willed for it, but he knew in order to make the podium, he would have to put a quad in the second stage of the program. 

The song played loudly, trying to amp up the crowd, but they knew this wasn't his best performance. Watching this young skater, failing more than any other, after doing as well as he did the day before, appalled the audience. They watched not in admiration, but in pity. 

The last jump came around. It was his last attempt to seal a medal. He went for it. Not planting his pick in the ground, but attempting an axel. 4 and 1/2 revolutions. The most punishing quad in history, never being attempted at an Olympic Event, until now. 

He faced forward, and swung from the outside edge, bounding into the air, one rotation, then two, three, then four. The last half of the rotation came too little, too late, as the once famed and reputed skater, slammed into the ice, his shoulder taking the fall. He slid across the rink until he hit the closest wall, causing more damage to his body. He failed to rebound after that. He stayed down, letting the ice win. It was only until he closed his eyes, the "HE" ran onto the ice, grabbing his body and kissing his forehead.