Grace Isn't Enough

Dragging my fingers against the cool ice of the rink, I breathe out. I can feel the indentations from the skaters before me making my hands move up and down ever so slightly. The screams and cheers fall upon deaf ears. I pay the large crowd no mind as I sort out my costume one last time. The music starts and I focus on nothing else. My heart beats to the rhythm, pumping out emotion with each "Bum-bum". Staring into the stands before my cue, though there are thousands of people, all staring right back at me, I can't help but only see the two I'm here for.

The two I came to win for.

Looking into their eyes feels like I'm going home all over again. Looking into their eyes makes me fall in love anew each time. Looking into their eyes makes everyone else in those stands disappear.

My cue sets off and I begin like a graceful swan, on top of the world; nothing can bring me down. I do light spins and twirls, gliding on the ice effortlessly. Soon, the song takes a darker turn, changing from a spring day to a hard winter's night. My face contorts into sorrow as the song suggests, and my light spins and twirls become hard dark motions of panic and despair. The music stops all together. I collapse to my knees; breathing heavily; bare scarred wrists on show; and my head pointed to the floor. Four minutes feels like it flew away with the blink of an eye. I stay still for a moment. The euphoria of my performance giving me a high. I look up, tears brimming my eyes.

I'm not sure if they're of sadness, or happiness.

The cheers finally fade into my hearing, seeing some giving a standing ovation, others wiping tears from their eyes, same as me. I stake to the edge of the rink to get water, but I'm trapped in a warm embrace. Their combined scent plasters a large smile across my red face. Their tall stature looms above me, not in an intimidating way, but comforting. Large long arms wrapping around me makes me feel safe and comfortable.

I hope they never let go.

Sound drifts back into my line of attention just in time for me to hear the announcers speak "They have eliminated American skater Taylor Moore, just on the cusp of making it to finals". My heart sinks to the floor, and tears roll down my cheeks. All our hard work has left me 4th place, not good enough. Not. Good. Enough. My loves stare in shock as I hastily tear off my skates and run to the changing rooms.

Isolating myself in the changing room stall, I let out pathetic whimpers and cries. Out on the ice, nothing can affect me. Every negative thought would drift away as I focus on pushing every ounce of emotion out through my graceful floating on the ice. The silence is calming, no sounds bouncing off the tall walls other than the scraping of my blades and my breath. Skating isn't just some silly sport; everything I have in this life I owe to skating. Every day, every night, all I could think of was running to the rink and having those thin pieces of metal gliding on the ice. Nothing is better.

Now all that is a shattered visage of broken dreams directly in front of me. All we've worked for has broken down. No matter how hard I tried to skate; no matter how much Viktor coached me, no matter how much Yuuri comforted me; it isn't enough. Grace isn't enough.

Two pairs of feet are hitting the ground so fast I'm surprised they aren't tearing the linoleum right off the floor, but stay still when they settle right in front of my stall. I can hear the hesitation in Yuuri's voice as he whispers "T-Taylor?". His voice is wavering, he may be crying too. I've fucked it up, I've disappointed him, probably Viktor too...

I visibly shake and crying harder. Quiet whimpers turn to panicked sobs. Little tears turn to a waterfall pouring from my eyes. A knock admits from the opposite side of the stall door, light, apprehensive. Shaking my head no, I crumble in a shell of a former human in the room's corner, on the small uncomfortable bench. One minute there's a sad sigh, and the next I see a tall Russian man crawling under the door to get in. I hide my face in my arm, not wanting him to see the side effects of my complete mental breakdown. "Tay..." He whispers, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and squeezing himself onto the bench. Soon enough Yuuri also slides under the stall door and hugs me.

Sobs rack my small frame, shaking taking over my body. "I fucked it all up. Everything we've been working towards, we've all worked so hard and I fucked it up." I shake my head. The dark comes crashing through, and I can't help but cry harder. "Tay, it's only your second time skating professionally, You didn't make us disappointed." Yuuri mutters in my shoulder, kissing my cheek. "Tayl, you did amazing, fuck those judges, you should have been the #1 based on that performance." Viktor says, a huge smile on his face.

I smile, yet inside the only thing I can think of is that little voice in the back of my head...

Grace Isn't Enough