Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The crispy-cold air brushed through my skin as I stepped foot through the door. It was normal to be this cold - an early morning in the outskirts of Sheffield. The cool air transferred to my chest as I took a deep breath, looking at the hills covering my backyard view. I pulled my scarf over my nose, watching my breath leave a cloud before me. I don’t think I can imagine my life without this cold.

I started walking towards the small train station that was a ten minute walk from my house. Snowflakes slowly started falling as I approached my destination. I put on my headset and choose a song to kill the waiting time. My hands drew back into my pockets rather quickly after experiencing the cutting weather outside.

Slowly after I saw the lights of an approaching train at the distance. Behind it were snow covered mountains, reaching so high that only the clouds could cut their tops off.

It is surely snowing up there, I thought.

I hopped onto the carriage, and the doors closed behind me. Desperate search started  as I steeped up the stairs. My eyes drifted around as I looked for a window seat. For my surprise, it didn’t take long.

Ah, emptier than I thought. I threw myself into the first option I had, my bags flying off my back and then into my laps. A sigh of relief left my lungs as I plopped my head into my palms, elbows resting on the narrow ledge. Looking out the window was my coping mechanism against unnecessary eye contacts throughout the ride. I was never a social person. And now there’s.. there’s someone.. there’s someone tapping on my shoulders? What the-

“Tickets, please!!” said a screeching voice from above. She must have said it before, looking at the way her eyes narrowed down at me.

“Yes, sorry.” I murmured as I pulled off my headset. I handed over my card from my pockets and tried to fake a smile to make the moment more pleasant. The lady looked at me and frowned.

“George, is it? Keep your ears open in the future.” she said while she handed me back my train passport. I took it rather quickly, smile already dead.

I didn’t notice the passengers around me after that, didn’t look up until the train curved near my stop. I breathed in, steadying myself for the monotony of Monday. And yet, even in that routine, there was a sense of relief- my afternoon skating lessons.

I almost reached the gates of university as I awakened from my daydreams, music playing in my ears the whole way. I tried to knock off any snow left on my boots at the front door and entered the building. I did the usual - find my locker, put my stuff inside, go to my first class. Where is my first class, anyway? I fished out my phone from my pockets, opened the uni application and searched for the calendar.

“Monday first class is Economics at.. class 24 on the second floor.” Being tortured at 9am on a Monday not only with the stairs up until the second floor, but with economics as the lesson seemed like a cruel joke. But it wasn’t, so I headed up to the classroom and took a seat up top.

——

After first class came second, third and fourth and it was already 5pm, which meant it’s time for the last lesson for today - ice skating.

I quickly grabbed my sports equipment from my locker and headed downstairs to the changing room. I slipped into my gear: tight black leggings for warmth, baggy sweatpants above them; for the top part, a matching skintight long sleeve, and my navy sweater that cut off just above my stomach. Feels free to move in but also keeps me warm. On the front of the hoodie, big letters shined with white thread that read “WSAS” which stood for “Winter Sports Academy of Sheffield”.

I grabbed my ice skates and headed towards the rink, navigating through the crowd that came from their practice session. I entered the watching area. I settled at the middle of the stairs, put on my skates and began to tie the laces. The fresh smell of ice filled my nose and gave my brain the relaxed feeling it reached for all day long.

Finally, I thought to myself. I stepped down onto the protective rubber covering the stairs and made my way down to the plexi.  The only thing left was to wait for the little machine to finish smoothing the ice — a perfect, glassy surface just waiting for me to glide across.

“Good evening, George.“ I heard from beside me. I turned my head. It was my coach, Mr. Jackson standing next to me and smiling. “How was your day?”

“Good evening. It’s been too long, I’m glad to be here already.” I said, smiling back at him. My eyes drifted back to the rink, waiting eagerly for the time I can enter it.

I looked back at my coach and caught him looking down at my feet. He quickly looked back up and with a wide, bright smile said:

“Nice new skates you have there! Today’s practice is going to be extraordinary!” It was unlike him to be so radiant. It felt out of place. I didn’t know where the ecstasy came from but I wasn’t someone who would just straight up ask why they’re this happy.

“Thank you, I was looking forward for trying them out today.” I replied.

“Come to think of it, I wanna have a few words with you after practice. Wait for me at the top seats.” he kept smiling at me all excited and proud. “Okay, let’s go in now.” he said, as he stepped onto the ice and slid away.

What does he want to talk about? My nerves were already racing. All I could think of were the things I might have done wrong.

My jumps are still improving, I know, but my spins and footwork has improved a lot. It couldn’t be that. But why am I already stressed when I don’t even know the reason for the conversation yet?

I took a big breath and put my right foot into the rink. The ice was bright, gleaming from its freshness. I pushed on my left leg, gliding ahead in long strides. The harsh cold, the frosty breaths, my skates slipping on the ice like it was butter - I felt like I was flying. Whenever I was on the ice, all my thoughts would clear, all my worries would seem insignificant, all my feelings muted.

I kept on going around a few times, feeling the breeze calm my senses, then started stretching for my upcoming jumps and turns - some sit spins, salchows and some axels and..

“Tell me when you’re ready!” yelled coach Jackson from the other side of the rink.

“I’m coming!” I slid across the space between us.

“You know, I wanted to go over the last part of your choreography again,” said coach Jackson as I finished my arm stretches. “I know you’re still a bit hesitant on the double axel right before the ending, so I thought we could practice that for now.”

I looked up at him. “Yeah, I still need to practice that part.” I said a bit tense. After splitting my arm last year, I’m not the most confident in my axel jumps and it eats my confidence a lot of the time.

“Okay then. I will start the music a bit before that part. Try to warm up to it and give it a go.” said coach as he skated to the stand where his phone were. “And don’t be so stiff!”

I quickly loosened my stance and started doing small circles, shaking my legs and arms as I readied myself for the parts I had to perform. The music started to quicken and I got myself into the rhythm.

One, two, three and four…

I pushed off with my left foot, gliding into a series of warm-up turns, feeling the blades bite gently into the ice. The chill air kissed my cheeks, but my focus was elsewhere — on timing, on balance, on not letting my mind wander.

I counted each rotation, each push, feeling the familiar thrill of momentum as I built up to the jumps. Sit spins first, my arms steady, shoulders relaxed, then a few Salchows, planting my takeoff edge carefully, landing cleanly and pushing forward.

And then… the double Axel. My stomach tightened as I approached the starting point. I took a deep breath, keeping my eyes on the ice ahead.

One, two, three…

I took off, twisting through the air, heart hammering as my skates met the ice again. Relief washed over me. It wasn’t perfect, but I landed it. It felt better than the ones I did lately.

My chest rapidly following the last few swings and soft hand gestures. I finish with my pose and try to catch my breath. Looking down at the ice, heart pounding, ears ringing slightly, sweat collecting on my forehead - that’s the feeling I longed for.

“Great job!” I hear from ahead of me. I look up and see coach waving and cheering. I slid to him and fixed my hoodie to be centered again. “Next thing you know, you’re already doing triple axels.” he added after patting my shoulder.

“Hah. I don’t think I will achieve that anytime soon, coach. But thank you.” I said, gliding my hand through my cold hair. It was getting long again, but I didn’t mind.

“We will see about that! Now, let’s see the whole thing together.” he said, starting the music through the speakers.

——

“Ahh, I’m dead. What time is it?” I said while reaching for my water bottle at the bench.

I raised my head to look at the time - almost 7pm. The practice is over, and I’m waiting for Coach to finish with the other students. He wanted to talk, I still didn’t know why. I almost landed all my jumps today, so I hope it’s not another ‘what I should get more confident in’ kind of talk. I need a lot more energy for that type of conversation - I’m drained for today.

“George, a minute and I will be back.” yelled Coach Jackson, rushing towards the offices. Well, my train isn’t leaving until 7:20 so I’m still good. I should write mom. She would be worried if I didn’t write her that I’m still at practice.

“I will be home by 7:40” read the text on my phone. I heard a door shut at the distance, footsteps followed. Mr. Jackson was rushing towards me.

“I’m sorry for the delay. I had to get these.” he said, shaking the papers in his hands.

“It’s okay, I still have time until my train.” my voice unsure of the following conversation. I gazed down at the papers, mind heavy, hands rubbing each other. I wished it was only the cold that made them so close - but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. Coach sat next to me and looked at me with the same look he had on his face when we met two hours ago.

“George,” he started, leaning forward slightly. “I wanted to talk to you about something important. But first… I need to tell you how impressed I am with your progress this year. Your spins are sharper, your footwork cleaner, and today’s double Axels - solid. Really solid.”

“Thank you Coach, I’ve tried my best toda-“

“Like always. You always try your best and give it your all - I know that. That’s why I think this would be a really great opportunity  for you.” he said, as he handed the papers to me. I grabbed them and started reading the first words…

“International Scholarship for Figure Skating and-” I read out loud. I looked up baffled and full of questions. What is happening?

“There’s an opportunity for you,” he said slowly, measuring his words. “A one-year training scholarship… in Florida.” his eyes looking at the papers, then back up at me. “I know it’s only your second year-” he sais, then clicks his tongue “-but I see the potential you could reach. This opportunity.. this doesn’t just come to anyone. This comes to those who have worked as hard as you have in the past year.”

“I-“ my hands started shaking and I kept searching for words on the paper that would catch my attention - but it’s already too late. My nerves were in shambles — every word on the page seemed heavier than the last.

“Florida has much more potential than you can imagine. Ice rinks out of this world, famous athletes training you and a much, much bigger university to attend for a year“ he stops and puts a hand on mine “I know it’s a lot to take in right now, but I want you to read the contract before giving me an answer.” he states, hands squeezing mine ever so slightly as a reassurance.

“Florida..?” I state.

“Yes. You would be going to Clearwater University.” Coach stated. “They have one of the top-ranked exchange programs for winter sports in the U.S., and a skating coach who’s trained national champions. They’ve seen your performance from last month’s competition, the ones I’ve-“ he cuts off and looks at me, retrieving his hand to his lap.

“My competition? How- wait, did you..?” I staggered on my words.

“Yes..” he sighs “ I sent them a video of your performance. They had to see what I see every day.. and they really liked it!” he beams with excitement.

“They.. did?” I looked down on the papers again, not believing what I’m hearing.

“Oh George, of course they did!” a tap lands on my shoulder - followed by a smile, entwined with a proud eye roll. “You’re at a much higher level than you let yourself imagine.”

“I can’t-“ my breath is shaking with heaviness. “-I don’t know what to say right now.”

“And it’s okay. I put a huge amount of stress on you. I don’t need an answer right now.” he assures calmly. “You need to have your mind set by Friday. There’s still time to decide.”

I sit in silence, holding onto the now seemingly huge amount of paper. I don’t even know where to start - Florida? One year? Clearwater University? Champions? That all sounds like a fever dream. How is this even real? I feel like my head is about to explode to a million small questions right this moment. I feverishly looked up from the papers and met Coaches reassuring eyes.

“Take it home with you. Think about it for some time. Talk it over with your family. Okay?”

I nodded. My breathing uneven, head spinning and hands shaking - I knew that’s the least I could do for Mr. Jackson.

“Now, don’t stress over it too much.” he said, standing up from the bench. “Whatever you decide, I will support it. You’ve earned that much.” he said, smiling down at me. “Now get going before you miss your train.”

“Yes, Coach.” I tried to smile back, but I can only imagine how bad I could mask my raging thoughts. “Thank you.. really.” I said as he started walking away.

“Get home safe!” he yelled and waved, turning his back and disappearing in the offices again.

I got my bag together, put the papers in neatly and headed to the entrance of the building. My heart racing, palms sweaty, I stepped outside of my university. The cold instantly cut through my lungs - slowly transferring to my head, keeping it together. I can’t imagine a year away from home. Not that I’m so close to my family - but that I’ve loved my whole life here, in Sheffield. The mountains that surrounded the city, the freezing weather that was an everyday occurrence, and the few friends who I had.. what would life feel like, at such a different place? But training with world known trainers, skating in huge arenas, and even attending Cleanwater University - they all seemed like big dreams up until now. However, now they feel like they’re just a signature and a suitcase away.

Florida, huh?

Chapter Text

Since I was a little kid, I never found many interests that could keep me rooted for long. I tried gymnastics, swimming, horse riding, even painting - all leading to the same devastating realisation: I didn’t have the motive for any of them. Fake stomach aches, made-up fevers, skipped lessons - all became routine until my mother finally gave up on finding me a hobby. I was a good student and found myself drawn to math and physics from an early age, so she didn’t worry much.

One night, my parents were watching tv - there was a winter sports competition taking place near my town and they broadcasted the whole event. I didn’t pay much attention to it, looking up a few times to see what the loud cheers were for. I had greater problems with my homework - I had to finish it for the next day.

As I scribbled my last answers to math problems, something caught my attention as I glanced up from my pages. I found myself amazed by the sheer elegance that I saw, playing ahead of me.

A man, as fast and smooth on the ice as a breath escaping from someone’s lung. He was covered by sparkling stars from head to toe - his thin body making the dress even more outstanding. Every turn, every jump, every slide flowed into a breathtaking symphony - and he was the conductor, leading the piece.

He made it seem easy. He was like wind dancing in the air: quick and graceful. I couldn’t take my eyes off the screen - only blinking a few times - until the music stopped and flowers began to rain down from the audience.

My parents were hesitant at first, but after weeks of begging and crying, they signed me up for ice skating lessons at the age of ten.

I quickly realized that only the man on tv made figure skating seem easy - but in fact, it wasn’t. The jumps, the turns… even just gliding gracefully was a whole lot more complicated than I imagined. But I felt something whenever my blades would meet the ice - something I’ve never felt before. My mind went quiet, racing thoughts settled as the cold air brushed on my cheeks.

Ever since, I skated every opportunity I had. Still, ten years later, I get the same feeling when I tie my laces before practice, and get the same calming sensation at the first smell of ice. I never searched for another sport or hobby after that, and my parents seemed okay with my choices. They attended my competitions most of the time, but never really deepened their knowledge in figure skating - therefore, they were quite shocked by the news I came bearing on that day.

“I like that suitcase a lot.”

I snapped back into reality as my mother stepped into my room. She came by my side, and slowly glided a hand over my back.

“It suits your personality - those cool blue tones,” she continued with heavy undertone.

“Oh, yeah,” I murmured, glancing at it. “I remember when I got it for Christmas,” the colourful lights from that night flickered in my memory, faint but vivid. “I never imagined I’d be packing it for a whole year.”

My mother took a deep breath and looked down. “I never thought you would.. you know,” she said, eyes staring at the hard wood floor.

“I know,” I said, turning around and vigorously continuing my packing. “A year is a lot. But I will text a lot.. and call.”

I wasn’t the best with showing my emotions, but I still felt them. The sadness in my voice was noticeable, as a result of the unbearable tightness in my chest that kept growing with every passing second.

Will I be okay for one whole year without.. all of this? What will my days look like? Sitting alone after practice, missing the people I loved here? Will I be good enough? What if I fail my-

“I know you will call,” she said, “and we will be rooting for you from here” eyes now looking into mine, bright wide smile underneath.

“I will finish packing quickly and head downstairs” I smiled back,

“Okay. I’ll make some tea for us while you finish up here” she said, starting to walk through the door. “And don’t forget your sunglasses! You’re going to Florida, after all!” she shouted back.

——

“If you have any questions about our flight today, please don’t hesitate to ask one of our flight attendants. Thank you.”

Fuck, this will be a hard ride.

I never flew before. This is by far the craziest my life has ever been. Going abroad for one year to learn peak figure skating? That still just sounds unbelievable.

But I have to be sitting on this damn plane.. for ten whole hours?

My head was hurting from the heartfelt goodbye I exchanged with my parents. My heart was already pounding before getting onto the plane - maybe because of how massive the Manchester airport was, with people rushing everywhere; or because I already missed the cold air outside…

I’d taken a few pills before departing, just to make sure I wouldn’t completely explode from anxiety halfway to Florida. I looked to my right and out the window - at least I had a good seat.

I kept glancing out as we took off; the engine started roaring louder, wheels humming over the asphalt, seats shaking in their places as the plane took off. My stomach flipped probably more times than I could count. After we reached the desired height, it was rather peaceful. When my ears got used to the pressure changes, I could finally listen to my music and daydream.

My eyes followed the snow covered mountains, shrinking with each minute. The ocean quickly took over my whole view and stayed for most of the flight.

As I watched the sky and the water meet halfway through the horizon for hours, I felt heavy inside. I’ve packed up and left everything behind in such a hurry. It has only been a week since I held those papers in my hands, shaking.

At least I said goodbye to my friends. We went to a cafè to talk about everything that came to our minds. It was nice seeing all of them quickly clean out their calendars to meet up. I’ve known all 4 of them from high school. We didn’t make any promise to meet up in this one year - for I didn’t know my schedule yet - but we still made the promise to keep in touch from time to time.

Will I make new friends there? How is the dorm life going to be like? I wonder who my roommate is going to be.

I was scared of many things. First off, I didn’t know anyone - everyone being a stranger felt weird. I was quite an antisocial person, but being this isolated seemed rather.. scary.

Second, I didn’t know anything about my lessons or schedule yet. What if I have to wake up super early every day? I was more alive closer to the night than in the mornings. I choose my courses accordingly back home, but I may not have this advantage over there. That made me even more anxious.

And for last, I feared that my ice skating abilities weren’t enough for them. I know Mr Jacobs always praised me, but the scales were surely much higher now than back in the UK. I was scared that I would fail.

I don’t wanna mess up in front of others..

As the medicine slowly started to take over my mind, my eyes started to weigh more and more. I could hear the engines humming even with my headphones on, music quietly part-taking. I closed my eyes and listened to the melody playing, focusing on the lyrics. My hands started to feel cold, a chill running through my body. I opened my eyes and found myself sitting on a bench. There was a small pond before me, frozen. I looked down to realize I had already tied my laces on my skates. I started running to the pond and hopped on the ice.

Dim lights lit the area, trees dancing in the wind. As I circled around, I saw a figure in the distance, slowly getting closer. It was a man. As soon as he reached me, he started talking - but I didn’t hear anything from the strong wind that tore on the trees around us. I tried to look up and see what he looked like, but his face was blurred. After a few seconds, he held his hand out, and I took it without hesitation.

It felt like I touched fire.

I wasn’t cold anymore - his overpowering warmth radiated as we started skating. My palm felt like it was holding onto a pieces of coal, but I was still unable to let go of the grip.

He wouldn’t stop going in circles until I let go of his hand. Then, he stopped and looked at me. He slid closer and took my hand back gently, while placing the other around my waist. For my surprise, he started to slowly skate around, making me dance with him on the ice. I felt like the whole world went quiet.

Slowly, with each slide, he started to lean closer, and closer - until there were only a few inches separating us. I felt like my face was going to melt from the heat he radiated, making me one with the lake under me. All of a sudden, my legs felt numb and I slipped, starting to fall back, opening my eyes once I landed on the ice.

But I was nowhere near ice - I was sitting on a plane. My fingers twitched as I woke up from my sleep, moving as if they were still trying to hold onto something- or someone. I felt dizzy, my heart beating out of my chest.

What was that dream?

I didn’t know what to think or how to react. I sat there in shock for a few minutes, processing what I just experienced. Who was that person? Where was this place? Why was he so warm? Why was he so.. close? Surely, the medicine took over my mind.

I looked out the window and saw a big change in my scenery. There were long beaches, stretching endlessly. Huge grid- like cities divided the inside of the land, making anyone feel as small as a grain of sand in the desert.

I opened my phone and saw that we had less than an hour before landing in Orlando. With my thoughts still racing, I packed up my things and turned off my headphones to hear any instructions.

——

The landing was just as bad as the takeoff, leaving my heart pounding for its sanity. I unraveled my seatbelt and grabbed my things. My stomach felt like it was about to shrink into a raisin - I couldn’t eat or drink anything for the whole ride. That dream had also still taken its toll on me — leaving my head in a dreamlike state where everything felt surreal. As I stood up, my legs felt numb. Ten hours of sitting in one place was rather uncomfortable.

Once I reached the stairs and stepped outside, I could barely breathe. The air was warm and thick, drenching in humidity. The sun was beaming down from above, burning my skin as soon as reaching it.

Oh my god… this weather is going to kill me.

I hurried inside as fast as I could, heading towards the baggage claim section. I waited patiently for my suitcase and after having it, I looked for the entrance of the airport.

Around me were people in shorts and sandals, wearing as few clothes as humanly acceptable. I felt like an imposter, walking in my sweatpants and hoodie - but the AC kept the place a bearable temperature. Palm trees surrounded the whole platform, with a huge water fountain flowing in the middle. The colorful tiles complemented the plants hanging all around the airport.

I made my way over to a bench that was free and dialed a call home, lightly explaining the flight and the killing weather. After hanging up, I reread my email from Clearwater University to find the location where I was supposed to be heading.

I couldn’t stop looking around, amazed by the change in everything. It was the furthest from anything I’ve ever experienced. The way people looked, the smells, the sounds, and the scenery - the whole experience felt like a fever dream.

My stomach gave out a loud noise - the sign that I should probably search for a food source. My eyes pasted through the crowd, finding a food stall near me. I grabbed my things and headed over, picking a simple but huge sandwich to satisfy my needs.

Munching on it, I followed the signs for an exit. Some minutes later I found the huge doors leading out of the place. As soon as I stepped outside, my head felt numb from the heat. The air felt like it was lacking oxygen, due to its warmness - which I was not used to at all. It felt hard to breathe, but I tried to keep my cool together.

I looked for an empty taxi and after spotting one, I launched into the back seats. The AC in the car felt like a savior, coconut smell filled the space with sweetness. I told the driver the location I was headed to. He looked back with his sunglasses on, and estimated it would be an hour long ride.

“Sure,” I coldly said. I couldn’t wait to arrive somewhere, anywhere.

He nodded, looked ahead and we started rolling on the road. Palm trees and huge buildings boarded the view in the city. After about twenty minutes, long wide roads began to stretch endlessly, with lakes separating the huge grass patches. The prairie seemed to only survive because of the water sources dividing it - even from the windows, the air seemed like it was scorching hot. The road danced in the distance from the heatwaves, making it seem like an endless ocean ran through it.

I started seeing buildings again in the distance, a smaller city taking place between the lakes. As we arrived, neighborhoods and shopping malls began to appear. We took a few turns and headed towards a big complex at the end of a road. The sign on top showed the symbol I’ve seen before: a circle of water, with the wave turning into a snowflake in the middle.

“That’s Clearwater University for ya,” said the driver, stopping the car before the building.

I payed for my ride and thanked him for his service. I got my things from the trunk and watched as he drove away. I was left alone, once again, not knowing where I am or where I should be heading to.

I looked around and saw groups of people talking in the parking lot, going inside and coming out of buildings. The palm trees were nowhere near this time, only old oaks and blooming magnolias made the place feel alive. I felt the sun making my hoodie a living furnace, so I quickly headed inside.

In front of me was a huge counter with people lining up, carrying suitcases and shoulder bags. The place smelled of many different colognes mixing together, with a hint of sweat. Big chandeliers hung from the ceiling, leather couches set all around in a neat pattern. I got my papers out and reread them a few times just to make sure of everything I needed. It was a brief ten minute wait before it was my turn.

“Hi there! How is your day going?” asked a girl behind the counter, big smile on her face. Her long blonde hair was braided into two, her clothes light and colorful.

“Um, great,” I said, sounding exhausted from the jet lag. “I’m here because of an exchange program and I’m looking for the dorms.”

The girl looked at me with wide eyes, waiting for something more to be said.

“How was your day?” I quickly realized my mistake. “I’m not used to this yet, I’m sorry…” I still had a hard time with the cheerful interactions around here.

“Hahaha, no problem. It’s going okay, thank you,” she said, eyes thinning from her smile. “I will need your full name and where you came from,” she continued.

“George Davidson. Winter Sports Academy of Sheffield.”

“Wow, that must have been a long way to get here. I’m glad you had a safe travel,” she responded. “I will look into your accommodation and give you a heads up about what to expect.”

“Thank you.” I was nervous about everything, but mainly about my living conditions.

“So, I see that you will be living on the right wing, second floor, room 22. You will have a roommate who is attending the same course as you. We usually try to pair up classmates so it’s easier to navigate through the process together.” She looked at the computer screen and searched for more information, her eyes narrowing as she scrolled.

“Will he be here already?” I asked, my voice lowering at the end.

“I can’t say that, I only see your information here,” she said, looking up at me. “But don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll be alright.” She gave me a hopeful nod and continued looking at my files.

“I hope so...” I said my barely hearable answer.

“Okay, you’re going to be attending classes starting tomorrow, so you will have to sign up for them. I’m checking your arrival into the system, and after it went through, the university will automatically send you a step by step guide on how to proceed forward. It will tell you everything you need to know about your schedule and lessons.” She typed for some time and looked back up with a smile. “Okay, all done here. Here are your keys, please take care of them.” She held out her hand, and gave me a key with a golden room number, hanging from a blue strap.

“Great, thank you. But how do I get to my room?” I asked, looking around the huge waiting area.

“You will head towards those stairs-“ she said, pointing to her right, “-and you will find an elevator there. It will take you to your floor. You will see the numbers next to the doors. Room 22 will be at the end of the hall.”

“Okay, thanks a lot.” I said, turning around and grabbing my suitcase. “Oh, and have a nice day.” I almost forgot the formalities, again.

“Thanks, you too!” said the girl, waving me goodbye.

——

Room 22. This should be it.

The number was written on a golden plate, shining next to the dark wooden door. The corridor walls were painted a grayish blue, with bright lights attached to them. Underneath my feet were black and white tiles, making the place look like a chess board. I jiggled the key in my hands nervously, trying to decide between knocking and trying the keys inside the keyhole.

As I was playing with them in my palms, making up my decision, the doorknob started to move around in circles. My eyes widened at the sight of the door opening slightly, leaving my lungs without air. A guy peaked out, a questioning look on his face. He didn’t open the door all the way, just enough to see me.

Fuck, what do I do?

“I’m looking for room 22,” I said, if I wasn’t entirely looking stupid already. I gave a glance to the keys I was holding, and looked back up at him.

He also followed the same pattern: he looked at the keys I was holding, looked back up and cracked a smile.

“Oh, then you’re supposed to be my roommate,” he laughed. His laugh was unique, kinda squeaky, but genuine.

He opened the door all the way, giving me the sight of his appearance. He had loose waves in his brown hair, which covered his forehead. His eyes were a light blue, almost gray color. A purple-red knitted sweater hung on his body loosely, accompanied by black jeans as the bottom. He wore a plushie slipper, imitating a shark.

“Karl Jacobs,” he said, a cheerful smile on his face. He stretched his hand out, waiting on mine for a handshake.

“George Davidson,” I said, taking his grip.

“Come on in, make yourself at home,” he said, stepping inside. “I chose a bed and decorated my side a bit, hope ya don’t mind!”

The room was bright and smelled like candy as I stepped inside. There was a small area where you could leave your shoes, coat hangers and wardrobes on each side. The room had two studying areas with tables and chairs at the front, and was devided into two by a wall at the end. We had separate sleeping spaces, the beds sitting under the windows. Two huge bean bags sat at the middle of the lounge area with a small table in-between.

“I have a few plants, I hope that’s not a problem,” said Karl, hanging up a few more above his bed.

“No, I don’t mind. Did you get here long ago?” I asked.

“Yeah, I arrived hours ago. I almost dyed of boredom. I’m glad you’re here already,” he said, looking back at me and smiling.

“Where did you come from?” I asked. “Ah, we have AC. That’s great,” I said, falling back on my bed, leaving my suitcase standing on its own.

“New York. It was such a long waaaay. And you?”

“Sheffield, UK. Don’t even tell me… I’ve survived a ten hour flight.” I looked up and saw him looking at me, horrified of the things I just said.

“Damn,” he simply said. His tone made me chuckle lightly.

“What now?” I asked. “I’m so jet lagged my head feels like a mess,” I confessed, laying on my back. I was surprised by my openness, his bubbly personality surely helped my anxiety.

“I’ve waited for whoever my roommate was going to be, to do all the important stuff together,” he said, sitting down on his bed. “I heard we’re going to be classmates. I wanted to register for the same lessons and practices.”

It felt like a huge storm just calmed inside of my head. My anxiety about who’s going to be my roommate, what kind of person they are going to be, how I will make any friends - all started going  away by every minute passing. I was glad to be assigned with such a nice person, who - without even knowing me - was already counting me in. I sat up and took out my phone, opening my emails.

“Then let’s do it together. I already got my email. The girl at the counter said it has everything we will need,” I said.

“Yay! Let’s dive in!” He got up, came to my side and jumped onto my bed next to me. “I already looked at the classes we have to take. I’m not really a morning person, so I thought about attending later courses, if that’s okay with you,” he said, looking at his phone.

His fingers were quickly tapping out of the email and into the university app he already downloaded. His nails were painted black and purple - I never seen anything like that on a man. But it matched his bubbly personality well, so I didn’t even question it.

“Same, let’s do later classes,” I responded.

We registered to all the classes we needed to attendin about an hour. After, we talked some more over on the bean bags. I surrendered to the tiredness after some time and headed for a quick shower before jumping into the bedsheets. I saw Karl typing on his phone in the dark,

Well, that went okay.

I thought, before completely passing out.

——

Chapter Text

"We have physics? As first class?" asked Karl with a whining voice. 

"Yeah. I kinda like physics, to be honest." It was a mandatory subject for both of us. 

"Cool, then please help me pass," he said, sounding more confident. 

"Yeah, sure," I smiled. 

Monday was the only day when we attended the same classes all day. There were subjects that didn't interest me, but Karl liked — for example psychology and coaching. I leaned towards anatomy and physics more, my classes mirroring my heart. We had separate subjects and practices throughout the week, but we had most of them together. 

I was looking at my phone, searching the university's app to see where we had to go. "The lecture should be at... wing B and hall five," I read out loud. 

"And where the hell is that supposed to be?" asked Karl, looking around the huge building which we arrived to. 

So many people were passing by that we had to keep moving — otherwise they would simply throw us out of the way. Footsteps and laughs echoed in the huge hall we were standing in. 

"I've no clue. I've also read in the email that everyone has a locker, somewhere on the base floor."

"Ahh man, we're so lost! We should ask someone for directions," said Karl, his voice getting excited. 

"You do it," I agreed to the plan. 

"Sure," said Karl happily, and started looking around for his prey. 

After some seniors explained how to get there, we headed towards wing B. As we talked, it got obvious that we were quite different. Karl was curious about the skating coaches and classmates, and I wondered about the arenas and everyone's skills. We chatted until we reached the lecture hall and found some empty seats up top. 

We sat through our first ninety minutes long lesson and were already exhausted. We used the same method as before to get to our second and third lecture halls — with Karl being the social butterfly, and me memorizing the path described. 

——

Three classes later, we were barely alive when our teacher dismissed us.

"Next lecture, we will talk about the early Dutch skating traditions. Don't forget to buy the book I mentioned at the beginning of the class. That's all for today. See you next Monday."

Our history teacher was a collected and calm elder lady who was dressed like the Queen herself. She was short and her voice sometimes went away mid-sentence — but her expressions showed how much she loved what she was teaching, so the topics seemed more interesting. 

"We have two hours before skating practice," I informed Karl as I packed my notes and pens into my backpack. 

"Finally, let's grab something to eat. And some energy drinks as well." Karl seemed just as tired as me, but was still making jokes while we walked around. 

I was still feeling the effects of jet lag. My appetite didn't quite return yet, and I've had a rough time sleeping — also because I was at a brand new place. I didn't get used to the sounds or the temperature yet. I hoped I could shove down some food, because training would have been the end for me without it. 

After stacking up on some essentials at the nearby store, Karl and I headed back to the dorms. At our room, we made some cup noodles and while eating, finished some paperwork we left undone yesterday.

"I'm so glad training is next," said Karl, standing up from the bean bags. He turned to me and started smiling. "Wanna see my skates?" he asked with an excited expression. 

"Sure," I said, my eyes following him to his wardrobe. 

Looking at his second outfit I've ever seen, I could tell he wasn't a basic guy. Today he had a dark orange hoodie on, with black scribbles covering the arms and pockets. Ripped black jeans on the bottom and a colorful patchwork backpack finishing the vibe. He wore many colors together, tying it with bracelets, rings, necklaces and earrings. I mostly owned black or dark colored clothes, and wore few jewelry, so this style seemed outstanding — almost revolutionary. 

"I bet they're not one color," I chuckled.

"Of course they aren't! But they're not rainbow, I swear," he laughed, while untangling his skates from his sports bag. 

He handed me the silk bags, inside them a pair of Jackson boots that were black, with deep red lines starting from its heels and thinning out at the ends. It had black laces and red blade protectors on it.

"Wow, they look unique," I admitted. 

"Thanks! I got them tailored to my feet. No other skates were ever comfortable, but this one is da best. Now, show me yours!" He smiled like a kid when he was excited. 

I got up from my sitting position and grabbed them from the bag, laying at the end of my bed. 

"Plain old white," I admitted, feeling a bit boring as I handed them to this colorful person. "Suits any dress."

"Hell yeah, they look cool! Edea is a great brand," said Karl, rotating them in his hands, feeling the blades and the laces. "And they seem quite new, did you break them in already?" 

"Yeah, at the lake where I live." I thought back to the feeling of sliding around, cold air cutting into my body. I missed skating already. 

"Well..." Karl looked at me, holding my boots. "What do you say that we go in a bit earlier and see if... the rink is free?" he asked with raised eyebrows and a smile. 

"I'm all in," I answered. I had a slight itch of anxiety over the whole idea — sneaking on the ice before anyone would let us. But not being alone made it feel safer than it was. 

We got up and quickly tidied up the place before grabbing our skates and heading out the room. We didn't wanna waste our time with searching for the changing rooms, so we already switched for training clothes — sweaters and baggy pants hiding it away until we got there. Hurrying down the hallway of the dorms made me feel like a little kid, doing some bad things and nervously running away, laughing. We already asked for directions during the day, so getting there was only a few minutes. 

"Take a right here," I assisted from behind, half-running after Karl, who wasn't gonna slow down before stepping inside the arena. 

He turned the corner and we were faced with huge doors, a blue snowflake painted on them. He turned back and smiled, catching his breath after the hurry. He took a second to collect his heartbeat and slowly opened the door. 

As we stepped inside, the cold breeze brushed through my hair, running down my spine. My body got goosebumps all over it, and I knew I'd made the right decision to come with Karl. The smell of ice calmed my nerves and I felt like I could finally breathe again.

We sat down midway and got out of our facade clothes. We changed our footwear, tying the laces as it was a competition on who's faster. I suddenly heard laughter in the distance and snapped my head up. There were a few people skating around on the ice.

"We should wait until they come off," I said quickly, looking down at the rink, heart starting to fasten up a few beats. 

"Maybe we shouldn't?" suggested Karl, his excited voice coming out. 

"We definitely should." I stood my ground, not wanting to seem rude on our first day. 

Karl sighed and sat back down next to me. "Yeah, you're right. We're still newbies," he said in a defeated tone.

There were around seven people, talking and laughing. The whole stadium sang their distant echo, bouncing off the endlessly tall walls. As they got closer and closer, I could slowly see their frames from the distance. Broad shoulders, helmets on their heads. I already knew who they were. 

"They seem like hockey players," I said. 

"Hockey is so cool. Don't you think?" asked Karl, meddling with his legs. 

"I suppose," I answered. I never got along with the players back in my university — they hated us. They praised their brutality, and casted us aside for being too delicate. I didn't blame them — it was also weird to me how figure skaters and hockey players were similar, yet so different. One embraces the ice with all its elegance, the other destroys it with harsh movements. The connection seemed like the sun and the moon's — destined not to be in the same space, at the same time, yet circling around each other. 

"They're coming off, let's gooo!" Karl got up and looked down at me, excited as soon as he saw the players heading off the ice one by one. I also stood up from the bench and we headed for the gate. I walked slower after him, not wanting to run into the people coming out. Karl patiently waited as the last person stepped out and jumped in without a second thought. I followed a few steps behind, only entering when everyone got a bit further. 

Oh wow. 

My breath went away as I looked around. It was a huge rink, probably five times bigger than the ones at home. I felt like a small fish in the sea, lost in the open space. Black snowflakes were shining under the ice, with the university logo and name in the middle. Some signatures were scribbled at the sides of the logo, all unknown people to me. Lights were beaming down on the rink, smaller ones tiredly glowing across the podium. It felt like the whole city could fit inside the stadium — and it was only one of many this university had. 

After sliding around for a while, taking it all in, I began warming up. I felt sore because of the horrible sleep I had last night. I could feel my leg muscles being stiff for barely moving these past few days. I hoped that today's sleep was going to be better, after tiring myself out in practice. 

I was stretching my arms over my head when I started having a weird feeling, like I was being watched. I felt a stare on my back, a weird warm feeling creeping on my shoulders. I thought only my anxiety was playing its well known game with me. I was scared of people observing me, seeing the flaws in me and my skating. But anxiety was always cold — how come I feel warm? Is it because of shame, for recklessly invading a foreign rink without permission?

I couldn't take it any longer. I turned around and looked at the only people in the stadium — the small crowd that left the rink. Most of them were already heading up the stairs or packing their bags, laughing and pushing each other around. But one person was further from the rest, standing sideways at the gate where he exited the rink. Helmet hanging from one of his hands, the other grabbing his hockey stick. I tried to look at his face but I found myself a prey to his gaze. 

He didn't move an inch. The lights hit him from the sides, highlighting his features. He was just as far so I couldn't see his face, only a blurry outline. His messy hair was all around the place, his tall figure shining with a glowing aura. My head felt like flames started dancing in it, making all my thoughts evaporate. My heartbeat fastened by the second I saw him staring at me. My pulse had moved to my throat, making me feel like I was choking from the overwhelming pressure he put on me. 

Why was he just standing there, not moving or looking away? Why was he staring down at me? Maybe he's mad because we got in? But then why hasn't he looked at Karl, at all? 

I didn't know what to think. I lowered my arms next to my body and just... stood there, staring back at him. It was like a force kept my eyes on him, not letting go of the contact we've made. Several seconds passed like that — silent, unmoving, just staring from afar. 

"Dude come on, I'm STARVING!" shouted a guy from the top of the stairs.

He kept his stare on me while quietly answering, before slowly turning away and heading up. I was still standing in one place as my eyes followed him out. A cold shock ran through me. I no longer felt the warmth on my body I did all these moments ago. 

I quickly lowered my gaze and pushed myself forward on the ice. I started circling around, heart still racing out of nowhere. I feverishly continued my stretches, trying to sneak back the warmth that escaped my body. 

Was he mad at us for being here? 

It felt like the stare was targeted at me. Maybe he didn't see Karl entering? But he almost knocked them out of the way, waiting impatiently as they exited. He couldn't have missed him. Then what? Was he only mad at me? That couldn't be. I specifically stayed behind to not anger anyone coming out of the rink. Then, did he see faults in my movements? Did I seem like a mess, going onto the ice as a child playing in the sand? 

Suddenly, Karls skates slid into my view. "What's up?" he asked, stopping before me. 

"Nothing, just warming up," I said. My cold answer felt strange, considering we'd just gotten the skating we'd been waiting for. I was full of questions and anxiety about the encounter I just had minutes ago, but I didn't wanna get him into it. What could I even say? That someone stared at me like I was an outcast?

"Wanna see some moves? Rate me!" Karl laughed while looking at me. He had a great strength of pulling me out of my head at times like this. His personality didn't let me stress for too long. Maybe intentionally, maybe unintentionally, but he was a great grounding point for me. 

He started skating away, speeding up, turning and going backwards while counting his steps in his head. He took off, did a simple loop and landed on his right leg, tilting forward. His moves were confident and bright, just like his persona. He came over and circled around me.  

"So?" he smiled. 

"A solid eight," I chuckled. 

"Haha, reasonable! Now you go, show me some moves," he said, stopping next to me. 

I took off and trying my best, did a simple axel. I finished it off with a spin, looking up while trying to make it look more elegant. I felt alive, my adrenaline high once again. I loved figure skating. 

"Niiice! Teeen!" Karl screamed as he sped up, sliding backwards to do a small jump, followed with a spin as well, trying to mimic my movements. 

"Haha, really funny." I rolled my eyes and smiled. 

"You move like a bird flying, really wind-like," he said, swaying his hand around, copying my wrist movements rather poorly. "It's really elegant. I wish I could copy that."

It was a genuine compliment and I was flustered from it. 

"Thanks. You skate like you have all the energy in the world," I laughed. "And all the confidence."

"Maybe the Monster I jugged before finally did its thing lol!"

We started skating in circles, talking about the jumps and turns, hand placements and balance. We exchanged tips, talking about how we'd learned each move — no gatekeeping, just excitement.

——

My heartbeat still hadn't settled by the time we stepped off the ice. I was sore from training, after doing spins and jumps for more than an hour. Our substitute coach didn't hesitate much — after some warm-ups and quick self-introductions, we started the process of trying to perfect our moves. 

The spins and jumps we had to perform were basic, as we started from the beginning to filter out any blemishes. The coach would walk up and point out your flaws in your moves, and go on to the next person to do the same. No praise was heard from him, only approving groans here and there. 

He told us that if we didn't meet the requirements, we would be moved down a level. And the stronger intermediate players would move up and fill our place. Anyone can switch at any time, if they get better or decline in performance. That seemed reasonable, but still kept us on our toes. 

It was a rough day with a rough finish. Many of my classmates — out of the six I had beside Karl — had complained about the training. It was advanced-level, after all.

My mind still wasn't clear — even during my fiftieth simple axel. From time to time, a picture of that moment would flash before me. All I could think about was that hockey player. 

Why did he stare at me so intensely? 

I thought I wouldn't have more concerns about people — my roommate turned out to be a great person, and my classmates seemed okay during introductions. I expected the coaches to be strict, so it wasn't surprising. But someone just staring me down? That was not on my 'what to worry about' list. 

The thought lingered in the back of my mind all afternoon, following me through the quiet walk back to the dorms with Karl. By the time we arrived at our room, both of us were exhausted. We took our showers in silence and ordered food.

"I told you, pizza is the best!" Karl took a big bite out of the fresh slice he just snatched up from the box. 

"Well, we can't keep this diet up," I said. I also reached for another round. 

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he said, taking a bite. "But for today, it's really yummy."

"Agreed. But tomorrow, we have to find the school cafeteria." I looked at him with a serious expression. 

"Sure sure," he said, kind of unconvincing. 

After finishing our food, Karl yawned and headed towards his bed. "I'm tapped out. I'm sleeping before I collapse. Night," he mumbled, already half-asleep.

"Night," I responded shortly, getting up from the table. 

My mind still didn't ease, so I slipped my headphones over my ears and let the quiet music numb my thoughts. There was a storm rolling into town, the wind tearing at the trees nearby. The air was still humid and hot, and I could only imagine how little the Florida rain would drop the temperature. 

As I drifted off to sleep, I heard thunders getting closer, flashing lights filling the room with brightness every few seconds. The windows were open to let in some fresh air, but I still felt warmth climbing up my legs. My chest started weighing heavier, long breaths escaping my lungs like they were yearning for something. The sky began rumbled again and—

KRA-KOOM!

A huge bolt hit. My eyes jolted open as my breathing paused. With a pounding heart, I sprang up and looked around me. It was quite dark, but I could see trees swaying aggressively in the wind. A dim light flashed in the distance, lighting a path ahead of me. I walked closer, just to find myself at the same pond I've been at before — only it was not frozen this time.

The raindrops formed circles on the surface of the water. The breeze brought leaves in the air. My hair was getting dewy from the downpour, making me feel cold.

As I put my arms around myself, I noticed the outline of a person, getting closer. A man, drenched as if he has been out here for some time already. He stopped before me — his long wet hair covering his face, but his mouth moving under it. I didn't hear his words, only the low and uneasy tone that he was speaking in. 

Why is he nervous?

He extended his hand out for mine. I felt a warm wave rushing through my body, the wind slowing around us. I began reaching for his hand, but stopped at the last second. We were inches away, his palm radiating warmth onto mine. I looked up at him and couldn't contain myself. 

"Who are you?"

Chapter Text

A sharp crack split the air outside my window, ripping me out of sleep. My eyelids flung open. I stared at the ceiling with a pounding heart.

I sat up from the bed, my shirt clinging to my back from the sweat. I ripped off my headphones from my head, the red light signalling that the battery has run out. I reached to my right and took my phone off the nightstand.

05:30

The day was still early. We didn’t have classes until nine, but there was no way I was going back to sleep. Not with this storm raging outside.

I got up from the bed, put my headphones on the charger and headed to the bathroom.  I got rid of my shirt and boxers, stood under the shower head and blasted myself with cold water. A chill ran through my body, my mind beginning to clear.

I had a dream again, didn’t I? I was at a lake, similar to the one I’ve skated on before, in a previous dream. Or was it the same location? I couldn’t remember it well, but small details started popping into my tired memory.

A pond. Foggy atmosphere. Trees all around. Rain pouring down heavily. A drenched person. A worried tone. A warm feeling. A hand reaching— was it maybe the same person as before?

Snap out of it, I told myself.

The shampoo dripped into my eyes, making me squint out of pain. The bathroom smelled sweet, almost like a bakery, drenched in vanilla and fruity essences. The coldness of the water felt like a renewing potion, meant to use in this weather. Even in this rainstorm, the air was humid and warm. Florida felt like a sauna — hot, humid, suffocating. Compared to the fresh, snowy Sheffield, it was like hell.

Now that I think about it, my life took a big turnaround. New environment, new challenges, new people. I don’t see my family daily anymore, and I don’t live at home. Sure, I kept in contact with everyone through texts and calls, but I was still far, far away.

Maybe the vast change of my life was the reason for these dreams. I never had vivid ones, some meaningless nonsense here and there, but nothing more. Stress and tiredness got the best of me these days.

I reached for the towel and dried myself off. While brushing my teeth, I analyzed my body in the mirror. It was toned from the trainings, yet it almost looked too thin. My pale skin was scattered with freckles all around, making it look like a canvas — as if someone flung a painting brush towards it, leaving speckles all over the white surface.

I finished my shower with some hair oil and then headed back to my bed. I sat down on it and took my phone into my hands.

06:15, it read.

I searched up some recent articles about the figure skating competitions and watched some videos — before I knew it, the time got ahead to eight o'clock.

I stood up and walked over to the other side of the room. I reached down to the bed.

"Karl, wake up. We have classes soon." I nudged his arms.

He responded with a groan. "Ugh... What time is it?" He slowly opened his eyes.

"Eight. You also have a class at nine."

We sent our schedules to each other over text, so we could find the other person quicker after separate lectures.

Some whining and tossing around later, Karl also got up and took a shower. He repainted his nails to match his red outfit, while I tried to make my hair behave.

We got out of the dorms, holding umbrellas over our heads the whole way to the main building. We stepped in with drenched shoes, leaving footprints on the floor. The change in temperature was a pleasant feeling. The building blasted AC's everywhere, at all times, keeping the air from getting too hot, in defense of the ice rinks all over the place.

"Jesus, this weather," whined Karl.

"I read it's gonna rain for days. We have some kind of cyclone above us."

"My god. New York wasn't friendly in weather either, but this is just ridiculous," he said, trying to close his see-through umbrella. "At this point, we're gonna get washed away."

"We have to learn how to swim as well, it seems."

Karl laughed. "Dude, we might."

We reached the middle of the hall, where you could choose which wing you head to.

"I will finish my classes at one. When do you get off?" asked Karl, running his fingers through his wild and puffy hair.

"At two. We have one and a half hours after—" I said, looking at my uni app, "—so we can get lunch peacefully."

"Great! My Psychology lecture is at wing C. See you at two then. Byeee!" He waved, smiling back at me as he walked away.

I waved back, looking at him disappear in the distance. I couldn't help but feel a tightness in my chest, from anxiety creeping up my throat. I didn't have my only friend next to me anymore. Without Karl beside me, the building felt too big.

Ha... I still have to find my lecture hall.

I was lost for a few minutes, walking around, trying to look like I knew where I was going. Some wandering around later, I managed to get to the lecture hall in time. I threw myself down to a random seat, far from anyone and got my pens and papers out. I took a deep breath and got my mind ready for some anatomy.

——

"Jeez, I still have an hour long class..."

"What is the subject?" I asked.

"Flexibility & Artistry. I hope it's not boring as hell," said Karl with a tired voice, chewing a bubblegum in his mouth.

It was already at the end of the day. We managed to have lunch, and we were past our Off-Ice Conditioning class as well.

"I think I will find the library in the meantime," I said.

"Dork." Karl laughed, as he hit my shoulder with his knuckles.

"Shut up," I responded, a quiet laugh leaving my lungs. "See you at the dorm."

We turned around and headed on our separate ways. I went up the stairs to the third floor, darting back and forth between the huge groups of students passing by me. I arrived up top and headed to the end of the hall. The whole wall was covered by two wooden doors, with metal handles hanging from the middle. I pushed the right one open and stepped in.

The library was huge. The floor was made out of dark wood, complementing the bookshelves that stretched out in long rows. The ceiling was split into sections by thick wooden beams, glass in-between them. The air was warmer than in the main building, but dryer. The light coming down from the windows was bright, even with the storm clouds covering the sky. The huge plants hanging from all around the place made the atmosphere kind of jungle-like. I guessed by their huge leaves that they enjoyed basking in all that natural light from above.

I walked over to the counter and made a library card, which I could use to borrow out books whenever I wanted. Looking around, I found a cozy corner that wasn't crowded, with sofas and bean bags waiting for my soul. I put down my backpack and headed for the shelves to look around. I scanned through the signs signaling the categories and headed towards history, then physics and anatomy. Almost all the teachers told us to use books, so my grades would be grateful if I got some they mentioned.

As I grazed through the place and picked out my fifth choice, my collection seemed complete. As I was balancing them in my left arm, my attention got caught on a sign.

Sleep & Psychology

My eyes ran through the shelves, my fingers quickly moving towards an interesting title. 'The subconscious mind in dreams' was written in gold onto a fully black spine. I pulled it out and put it on top of my stack.

I put down my finds and picked up the dark book on top. I leaned back on the couch and started reading through it, turning the pages. It smelled like old paper and cigarettes, making it seem like it was older than in reality. It was an interesting find, and I got lost in searching for similarities to my recent dreams. The rain gave the place a low hum, the calming aura helping me get lost in the lines.

After god knows how long, I heard my phone vibrating in my backpack. I fished it out from the depths of it and looked at the screen. Karl was calling.

"Yo, where you at? I just finished."

"I'm at the library still." I flipped a page, reading the title of the next segment.

"Then I will head over, I have some books I need to get," he said.

"Okay. It's on wing C, top floor," I said, smiling. He didn't like to be alone, I noticed.

"Thanks Gogy!" He hung up.

Go— what? Gogy?

Taken aback by the sudden nickname he gave me, I looked up from the book. Karl already finished his class, so more than an hour passed since I came here. I only read this one book, for so long? What is wrong with me... I came here to study. And I don't even have psychology as one of my main course.

In disbelief, I shot the book closed and picked up another one while I waited for Karl to arrive.

——

The rain still hasn't stopped during the night, and aggressively continued onto Wednesday morning. The day started off strong for me — I had individual training from six in the morning. I was jealous of Karl, who was still snuggling his plushie when I headed out the dorm. But he had his share of early morning classes on Friday, while I could sleep in some more.

After I finished my 'Physics II' lecture , I felt like a walking zombie. The morning practice tired me out more than I expected. My legs were cramping, my eyelids fell heavy — but at least my mind was calm and relaxed from the skating.

I was walking down the hallway to meet up with Karl, when I got a notification. It was  from my friend back home, Tommy. I opened the group chat and watched the stupid video he sent in, from years ago. We were laughing and having fun in the snow, sliding down a huge hill as we tumbled all over the place. I smiled while watching the clip, feeling homesick as the video ended.

"Watchu smiling at?"

I smelled a scent of candy. I looked up and Karl was standing in front of me, two white Monsters in his hands. One was just opened, judging from the sizzling sound of the bubbles.

"Oh, a friend of mine sent an old video, of us fooling around," I replied.

"Show me later," he smiled.

"Sure. But don't laugh at how I looked! I was fourteen here..."

"Hihi, I can't promise," said Karl with an evil laugh. "Here, I thought you would like one as well. Since you started super early," he said, handing me the other unopened can of energy drink.

"Thanks. I feel like the walking dead." I took the can and after cracking it open, I drank almost half of it.

"Jeez, slow down," he laughed "let's go then."

We walked until the middle of the hallway and headed into the lecture hall. The place was huge, with seats going in half circles around the massive white board, stretched out at the bottom of the room. We picked a sitting spot near the top, next to the pathway, so escaping out wouldn't be a lengthy journey at the end. I took off my backpack and sat down.

"I will run to the toilet real quick, be right back," said Karl, tossing his bag on his seat and rushing down the stairs, in the direction the arrow pointed to the Toilet sign.

I got out my notebook and started searching through my pens until I found the black one. 'Sports Nutrition & Recovery', I wrote in capital on top of the cover. I hoped that this course wouldn't be straight biochemistry, but I had my hopes low.

I glanced around the area, watching as large groups of students were walking in, finding their seats while chatting. I looked down and spotted Karl talking with someone at the bottom of the stairs, gesturing with his hands. He could talk to anyone, even a wall. He was one of the most extroverted person I've known in my life. His friendly personality made it impossible not to engage with him, if he initiated a conversation.

I looked at the person he was talking to. It was a tall guy, with quite broad shoulders, messy long hair and—

Wait. It can't be.

As if he sensed my stare, he looked up at me. Our eyes met, and I knew. My eyes widened, and my heart skipped a beat. I squeezed the pen in my hand so tight that the plastic started crackling. Warmth rushed through my skin as fast as a race car, my breath falling heavy from the moment.

It's the same person.

As if frightened, he turned around and walked away. Karl looked after him, shrug his shoulders and came up the stairs. As soon as he reached his seat, I turned to him in a hurry.

"Who was that?"

"I've no clue. It was some tall hockey guy, who asked if I was a junior," said Karl, rummaging in his backpack for his books.

"And??" I impatiently asked.

"He asked if I came alone. I said I'm with my roommate and pointed up at you."

"Wha—" I couldn't catch my breath, my head was in flames.

"He then asked your name. After I said it, he literally just went 'Thanks' and walked off."

"What?! My name?" I asked, helplessly drowning in my anxiety.

What is happening? Why the hell did he ask for my name? I don't even know who he is. Is he still mad at us because we got on the ice? Or is he just a creep, stalking us?

"He looked like a senior, tho. Maybe we asked for directions from them?" asked Karl.

"We didn't," I said firmly.

"Man, the teacher just arrived—" said Karl, as the lights dimmed in the room and the huge screen ahead lit up.

My pulse was through the roof, my eyes still wide from the anxiety in my veins. I couldn't stop the white noise in my ears, and my body was visibly stiff. I held my pen with a slightly shaking hand, trying to look put together — when in fact, I was falling apart.

What is happening nowadays?

That person... first, he stares daggers at me in the rink. And then, he asks Karl for my name, out of the blue. What does he want from me?

"Good morning, everyone. Please quiet down so we can start today's lecture. My name is David, and I'm going to be teaching this subject. Now if you look up the board—"

I opened my notebook and stared at the blank page, unable to hear anything that was happening around me. My ears were deaf all class, not processing anything that was being said. I scribbled half a page worth of nonsense, and didn't remember anything of the topic.

When it was time to leave the classroom, my eyes were relentlessly searching for that person, but I couldn't spot them. I would confront them if I had the chance. I stood there, pretending to pack my things until only small groups were left, none of which he was in.

"George, you good?" asked Karl, tugging my backpacks straps and pulling me out to the hall.

"Yeah, yeah..." I muttered while straightening my stance.

"You sure? You look beat. Maybe you shouldn't have downed that Monster."

He was looking at me worried, pinching his eyebrows while scanning my face.

"I'm good, really. Just a bit anxious about... some things, I guess." I tried to give him a smile.

"Okaaay..." he replied, unconvinced. "If there's anything you wanna talk about, just spit it out anytime, Gogy."

"Wha— where did that come from?" I said, taken aback from the nickname once again.

"Dunno, fits you better now that we're closer friends," he said, moving aside to avoid the crowd passing by us. "Should I drop it? Do you hate it?"

"No, I don't. It just surprised me, that's all."

Close friends.

"Cool! Then let's get going, we still have classes." Karl grinned, his mouth wide from the smile. He pushed me towards our direction, and we started walking down the hallway.

——

As we reached the end of the day, my mind began to calm and my right mind seemed to be back. I could take notes and listen to what was being thought. I tried not to think about the whole situation I was in. Karl and I had lunch and attended our courses like nothing happened.

Before our last practice, we headed out to the shop and bought some chocolate, since Karl craved them all day. We stopped by the dorms, changed our clothes and headed back to the university. We were excited about moving our body after so many classes, sitting and writing notes almost all day long.

We headed into ice rink five, which was our favorite rink, since we sneaked in here the very first day as well. We joked about it down the stairs with Karl and sat down to put on our skates. Our classmates also arrived and we chatted about our day and the upcoming training.

Karl made many friends already, while I was mostly just a background character — but I didn't mind. I was always slower to warm up to new people, but the good ones stayed around regardless. I was glad Karl didn't feel half as lost as I did sometimes, smiling and joking with the group openly.

"They got off, let's head in!" said a guy from my class whose name I still didn't memorize.

"Hannah! Please show me those spins you did last practice, they looked so cool!" said Karl, standing up, with his hands put together pleadingly.

"Oki dokie, I will show you this once," she said, as she headed down the stairs.

Karl looked down at me. "You comin'?"

"Go ahead, I still have to text back my friends," I said, still tying my laces.

Karl nodded and ran after our classmates, almost tripping down on the stairs.

"Careful!" I yelled after him, my heart skipping a beat when he flew forward, one of the guys catching him. He flung his hands up in the air and showed a thumbs up, still running. This guy...

Laughter and talking filled the place, and there were a lot more people than last time. I looked around to make sure no creeps were staring at me from the crowd, like last time.

Even though figure skating was minutes away from me, my thoughts were still lingering elsewhere. I still couldn't knock off the weird feeling today gave me. At least I was thinking more straight than earlier —questioning the facts, rather than focusing on my anxious feelings.

But the more I thought about the whole situation, the more aggravated I got. That person was killing my peace.

He stared down at me without saying anything. Reason, unknown.

He knows my name. He asked for it. Reason, unknown as well.

I don't know anything about him. Not even his name.

As I went back and forth with my facts, I started to get angry. The whole thing seemed unreasonable and unfair. What gives him the right to ask who I am, when I have no idea about who he is? What gives him the privilege to watch my skating, or to stare at me that intensely? He may be a senior, but he is merely a hockey player. How can he—

Ah, what am I even doing...

I quickly cut my inner tongue, feeling the shame lingering in the air. I finished tightening the last row on my skates, and tied it off with a double bow to secure everything. I didn't even look around to search for Karl, feeling defeated by my own antisocial behavior. I didn't even have to text back anyone. It was just a lie so I could focus on my anxious brain, making it overall worse.

I felt like my head was about to explode, my hands starting to freeze up. I put on my black gloves and jumped up from the bench, hurriedly stepping ahead to ease my mind on the i—

"OOW!!!" I half-yelled, grabbing my left hand.

I felt a sudden hit from the front, almost knocking me over. I lost my balance from the strong impact, and stepped back on the stairs.

"Oh— I'm so sorry!" said someone, his back towards me. He turned his body around, and lowered his gaze.

"I didn't mean to—" he swallowed his words as we locked eyes.

That person. It's that person. It's him.

His eyes widened, mouth left slightly open after the sudden stop in his sentence. His curly hair hung over his forehead in locks, the top of his head messy from the helmet he was holding in his hand. He was tall — so tall, even with the few steps between us, I still had to look up to meet his eyes. They were looking down on me, once again, for unknown reasons.

"I—" he stuttered, "I'm sorry," he said. His voice was low.

"No problem," I said, trying to mask my beating heart.

I straightened my posture and stepped down to steady myself. I looked down at my skates just to break the eye contact we've been holding. I looked back to see if he has left already. He was still standing in one place, staring at my hands, with a guilty look on his face.

"I'm George, by the way—" I said, with a breath leaving my lips, "—but you already knew that."

He looked up, shocked at what I just said. He paused for a second, then started fiddling with his helmet in his hands.

"Dream... I mean, Clay— but everyone calls me Dream."

"Dream... alright." I responded, trying to seem calm. My chest was still tight, the events stole my last breath out of my lungs. I looked away and stepped off to the left, making my body move away from the situation I was in.

He stepped aside, giving me more room to pass him. Warmth radiated off him — almost like walking past a fireplace. I felt his eyes following me, before I heard him talk again.

"So, George. See you around?" he asked, looking down at me. I turned around at the gate to face him.

"Maybe," I said coldly. I stepped onto the ice backwards and pushed myself off to the distance.

My heart was still beating loudly in my ears, from the unpredictable meeting we just shared. I slid around the rink a few times, feeling the cold air pinching my cheeks.

At least we're equal now. My cold demeanor served him right. Maybe he won't stare me down anymore so intensely. But at the same time, I felt bittersweet — he didn't seem quite like the creep I'd convinced myself he was.

I felt like a stone fell off my chest, finally getting to know the unknown person that circled me these past few days. My heart was still heavy for some reason, but it was much more bearable now that I met him face-to-face. His surprised look, his eyes looking down at me, his parted lips frozen from the words he didn't say — the sight still lingered before my eyes, making my mind occupied by the encounter.

But with each slide, the crushing feeling slowly disappeared. I could finally breathe in the fresh air and focus on my skating.

Chapter Text

DREAM'S POV:

"I TOLD YOU TO WAIT FOR ME, DAMN!!" 

Sapnap's voice cracked down the hallway like a whip, as he flung open the exit door. He stomped after me like a pissed-off chihuahua in Air Forces.

"You take hours to get ready."

I needed air. I needed out of that rink. What the fuck just happened? Why did I freeze? I'm not like that, at ALL. I'm Dream, for fucks sake. Since when do I freeze? 

And why did he act so nonchalant — does he not know who I am?

"I was changing my shoes, dude." Sapnap pushed my shoulders with fury. 

He had a pissed look on him. Eyebrows pinched together, his eyes throwing knives at me. "Did something happen?" 

"No." I simply said.

"Something did," he stated. "Was Bruce there? Did he say some shit again? That fucking kid... I swear, I'll punch a hole—"

"No— what? I didn't see that fucker."

He looked at me, studying my face like he was CSI. I could see the gears moving around in his head. 

He smiled. "Oh. Ohhhh, I get in now."

"You rarely get anything with that tiny brain of yours."

"Dude, calm down. It's not the end of the world. Im telling you, he is a dick."

"Who are we talking about?" I asked, not following his brainwaves. 

"Coach Henry," he said. "You mess up in practice, he yells. Obviously."

"Oh shut up, dude. Who cares about Coach yelling?"

"You're a crybaby." He smirked, and I swear his face was asking for a punch.

I huffed and looked away. "I can't stand you any longer," I said with a chuckle, turning around to continue my route.

Sapnap fell into step beside me, throwing his bag over his shoulder. He pulled his car key from his pocket, spinning it on his finger like he thought he was cool.

He bumped my shoulder. "I'm starving. Let's abandon the others and grab some burgers. Watcha say?"

"Sure. Wendy's?"

"Wendy's," he nodded, heading off to his car. 

I grabbed my keys from my pocket, and looked at the lights pop up. My Audi was shining in the spot I left it. After so much rain lately, I wasn't surprised. 

My pride and joy, I thought, looking at this beast. 

I walked to the drivers seat and got in. I started the engine and listened to the low hum for a while, smiling under my breath. Once my phone connected, I opened my Spotify. I scrolled down and chose something random — anything was a banger from my playlist. 

I still had a headache. Maybe it was the stress from practice lately. The whole school rivalry coming up again in December made the coaches extra hard on us. Doing everything possible to win the Florida championship was expected.

I needed to talk to that person again.

"George," I said out loud. 

Fuck, why couldn't I act like I always do? The whole thing looked like I was a loser.

Suddenly, a loud engine roared behind me. I looked in the rear mirror and saw Sapnap doing a burnout. He sped up and disappeared at the corner. 

"Cocky bastard." I smiled as I stepped on the gas. I took after him to win the fight. 

——

"Finally, it's Friday! You two coming tomorrow?" asked Punz, making his way between me and Sapnap, putting his arms around us. 

"Of course, dude!" Sapnap grinned at him. 

"Who's driving?" Punz asked. 

"I will. I'm not trying to black out this time," I replied, looking at my phone.

"Cool! When are we meeting up?"

"We will get to you with Sap around eight. Then pick up Zak and Darryl at their place. The others live in the dorms, so they can walk."

"Walk?! My dorm is twenty minutes away!" complained Phil from the back. 

"So what? You're a hockey player, your legs won't fall off from some walking," I said. 

"Fuck you, dude," came the friendly answer. 

I put up my middle finger to him, as we walked off towards the exit with Sapnap. 

He looked up at me and started smirking. 

"What now?" I rolled my eyes, getting myself ready for the bullshit that this guy was about to blurt out. 

"You'll drive, huh?" his voice cracked from drowning a laugh. 

"Yeah. Not everything is about getting drunk and doing stupid shit, you know?"

"Right... and it has nothing to do with your little incident last time?"

"Shut it before I help," I scoffed, pushing him to the side. 

"Don't be like that. It was funny as hell when you—" Sapnap suddenly stopped in the middle of his sentence. "Maaan, cool hoodie! Espeon, right?"

Espeon?

I looked up from my phone and there they were, standing in front of us. George and... the other guy.

"Thanks! Yeah, it's my favorite Pokémon! Do you like 'em as well?" he asked with a glowing aura. "I'm Karl, by the way!" 

He turned to me, and the smile on his face froze instantly. 

"Oh— wait, you're the guy from the... uh..."

he started rambling and looked at George for help. 

"I'm Dream. Hi there, George." It was my chance to smooth things out. 

"Hello, Dream," said George, looking straight up at me. My name sounded familiar from his mouth. 

"Oh— you already know each other? I mean, I knew he asked for your— uh, I mean... I talk a lot sometimes, sorry," babbled Karl. 

This guy...

Sapnap leaned forward, and scanned Karl with a curious expression on his face. 

"I'm Sapnap," he said to him with a smile, "and talking is fine, as long as it's interesting. Like your hoodie. My favorite is Umbreon, but I—"

Aaand I lost my interest in their conversation. Geek stuff wasn't my go to category, so I turned to something that actually held my interest. 

"So, George," I started, with a confident smile "about yesterday. I was not really in my best shape. Coach was yelling his lungs out, practice was crap, and, uh— yeah. Just wasn't a good day."

"You seemed fine," he blinked. 

I laughed out loud. "You didn't see me at my best yet."

He raised his eyebrows and gave me a half smile. He seemed way too chill about me. 

I shifted my weight, leaning in just slightly toward George — enough to be more noticeable.

"Anyway," I continued, "there's this party tomorrow."

"What kind of party?" he asked. 

"It's the semester opening. The whole school will be there. Music, alcohol, drunk people. The usual. You should come."

He shrugged. "I don't know many people."

"You know me," I said, without hesitation. "And Sapnap. And Karl, who apparently knows Sapnap now." 

Sapnap and Karl were already laughing about something dumb, seemingly enjoying themselves. 

George's lips twitched — barely a smile, but it was there. "Alright," he said. "We'll see."

I raised a brow. "That sounds like a yes."

"It sounds like we'll see," George corrected.

"Same thing," I grinned, stepping back. "I'll see you around, then?" 

George looked at me for a long moment. I could feel him trying to figure me out. Good. Let him try.

"Maybe," he said. 

I couldn't stop my mouth from rounding upwards. This guy was something else entirely — teasing me like he came to the US just to keep me second guessing.

"Okay. I will take a maybe." I smiled. "C'mon, Sap."

"See you around," waved Sapnap. 

"Bye then! Hope we will run into each other!" said Karl, waving at us as they walked away. 

We headed out the entrance, and I noticed Sap turning back. I kept my eyes straight, feeling victorious as I walked away. 

"Dude, that guy was interesting. Did you see his backpack? I wonder if he made it himself, he looked like the type who would."

"Mhm." 

"And his hoodie? I like Eevees, he has a great taste for sure. Karl, right?" he asked, looking back again. 

"Yeah. And George," I responded. 

My mind was still replaying that maybe. 

"Yeah... about that. How did you know him?" 

"We met at the rink a few days ago."

"Are they freshman? I've never seen them before. And I'd remember a Pokémon hoodie." Sapnap took out his phone and his keys. 

"No, they're in second year. Exchange students, I guess."

"Yeah, judging by that guy's accent. He was really— oh, what the hell? Karl just followed me on Insta." He shoved his phone into my face, showing me the notification. 

"Jesus man, I don't care." I pushed it away. 

"You're such a mood killer." He pouted as he looked at his phone. "He even skateboards?! Damn— I might have a new buddy to go around the city with."

"Are you seriously stalking him right now?" I looked at him with a sharp turn. This guy couldn't stop being annoying. 

"Chill, dude. I'm just looking..." His thick eyebrows were pinched in the middle, his eyes locked on his phone screen. 

"Looking my ass. You're stalking." 

He punched my shoulder. "Whatever, man."

——

I finished the last bite of my protein bar and closed my tablet. I scrunched up the wrapper and threw it down on the kitchen counter, next to the several that was piling already. 

I looked over to the sofa — Sapnap was stretched out, munching on popcorn in his t-shirt and boxers. 

"We leave in twenty minutes, get up already," I said, looking away in disbelief. This guy was never ready for the time he needed to be ready for. 

"Yeah yeah, okay mom," he said, typing on his phone. 

"Lazy bastard." I rolled my eyes.

I got up from the bar stool, and went to my room to change my clothes for the party. I chose a simple black shirt and some green loose fitting pants. I clipped on some gold necklaces and did a few pumps of cologne. I slapped on some hair cream, meant to tame curls. While heading to the living room, I heard the wind blowing the windows, but I couldn't hear rain anymore. Finally. I hated storms. 

I walked to the mirror and peaked at my reflection. A satisfied smile came rushing. Damn, I look good. I put on my shoes and grabbed my keys. 

"Get out or I'm leaving you here!" I yelled towards Sap's room, stepping out the door. 

After some long minutes, he finally appeared and threw himself into the passenger seat next to me. He didn't hesitate to blast some music, and we were finally rolling down our street. 

The car was drowning in perfume and menthol, as we picked up our first target and headed towards our second house. They were already waiting for us out, so I quickly pulled over to pick them up. 

"Scoot over, Punz—" said Zak, peaking in the door, "—Darryl still has to fit next to me."

"Make him sit in your lap," joked Sapnap, a snort leaving him. 

"I might. Come on darling, sit here," chuckled Zak, patting his thighs.

"Zip it dude, you're so annoying," huffed Darryl, pushing his way in.

We took off to our final stop. The university. Sapnap played his playlist while we joked around about old stories. We got there in ten minutes, if not less. I never hesitated to push the speed limits. The university's parking lot was so full that we had to make a few rounds to find a spot. 

After getting out, we headed inside, and everyone poured themselves a cup. I stuck with a zero Coke. We sat down at a table, watching more and more people gather in the hall. Many of them greeted us and came over to chat. Since we were the school's main hockey team, everyone loved us. Obviously. 

Bands switched each other on stage, for the crowd dancing around and singing along. Flashing lights made the place feel like a club. Some of the guys were already close to blacking out, but still dragged the others for rounds of drinks between songs. 

I tagged along the whole time, but was too sober to join in the dancing. After many rounds of shots and fooling around, we decided to sit down for some rest. 

"Dude, didyu— didyu see Phil, talking to that freshman girl?" Punz was laughing while punching Zak. He was the drunkest. He looked out of this universe — one shot away from collapsing. 

"Yeah, they flirted for quite some time," said Darryl.

"Yeeeeah dude, he might get, like, laid tonight." A hiccup came out of him, as loud as a fucking seal.

"You... jealous?" asked Zak, laying his head on Darryl. "Are you?" He gazed up to him with half closed eyes from the intoxication. 

"Why would I be? Zip it or I'll throw you off," answered Darryl, nudging his shoulder. 

I felt a push to my arm. I looked over and Sapnap was smiling up at me. He leaned closer to say something, but I didn't hear anything from the loud music. 

"What?" I bended down my head.

"I'm gonna go meet Karl. Wanna tag along?" he asked. He seemed more sober than the others. 

"Sure. I need some fresh air anyways."

"Be right back!" he yelled to the others. 

They didn't pay much attention to us — they were joking around as always. We quickly got up and I followed next to Sapnap towards the front door. 

"When should we get going?" I asked him, looking at the time. It was almost midnight, and everyone else seemed to hit their limits soon. 

"Dunno, depends on you. I don't really wanna drink more. Oh— there he is!" 

Sapnap spotted Karl near the entrance and practically jogged towards him. I followed, pretending not to scan the crowd — but I was scanning the crowd.

And then I saw him. George stood next to Karl with a plastic cup in hand, oversized sweater drowning him, hair slightly messy from the humidity. The flashing lights made his silhouette glow in pieces. 

Karl waved, while George only lifted his chin to greet us. 

"Did you wait long?" Sapnap asked from Karl, leaning forward so he could hear him. 

I can't recall what Karl answered or what they said after that — my head and attention both turned to George in an instant. 

"You actually showed up," I said, letting a small grin pull on my mouth. "I'm glad."

A line appeared between his brows. He gave me a quick look.

"Yeah, figured I should come. Socialize."

He didn't keep the eye contact for long, his sight darting around the room. 

"Really? You don't feel like the social one."

"And you don't feel like the shy one." His answer was sharp as a knife.

"Why would I be? I'm Dream." I shrugged with a smile, like it was just a fact of life. 

"And what does that mean, exactly?"

"Oh, just a guy, who's the center player of the school's hockey team. Also tall and handsome. Nothing serious, tho."

"Oh my... don't be so cocky." He rolled his eyes with a huff. 

"Impossible. It's in my DNA." I shrugged my shoulders. "So—"

"So?" George echoed. 

"I'm heading out for some fresh air. Wanna join?" I tried to read his expressions. "Or you still tryna socialize?" 

He didn't look like he enjoyed the party. I could see the overwhelm in his eyes. 

"Fresh air sounds better," he said, looking at all the drunkheads wobbling and screaming around. 

A victorious smile came rushing. I tilted my head towards the exit. 

"Let's get out, then. I've got something cool to show you, too."

He raised his eyebrows and looked up at me with a confused expression. "Something cool? Like what?"

"If I told you, it'd ruin the fun. Just come."

He squinted his eyes, and after some thinking, he turned to Karl and whispered something to him. Then he looked at me and nodded. 

"Okay, but nothing weird." 

"Nothing weird, I promise," I smiled with a proud chest. "C'mon."

He followed my lead down the hall. We reached the entrance, and stepped outside. The air was humid, but cooler than before. The rain's smell filled my nose with freshness. 

I looked at George, deep breaths leaving his lungs, his shoulders relaxing slightly. He looked pale in the dim lights. 

"So, what is this cool thing?" he asked, turning to me. 

I clicked the key, and my Audi blinked awake in the dark — sleek, black-green metallic. The headlights drowned the parking lot with an orange hue. 

I glanced to my side with a grin. "Just this," I shrugged my shoulders. 

George stopped. His eyebrows lifted. 

"Oh. You're rich rich."

"I'm really not," I chuckled. 

"You drive that."

"Fair point. But I saved up to it — and I have great taste."

He stared at the car, then at me. "This feels like a trap. You lure people into your car and then what? Show them your playlist?"

"No," I said. "Not everyone gets a ride."

"Oh, so I'm supposed to feel honored?"

"You kind of are," I simply said. 

He didn't expect that answer. He blinked at me for some seconds. 

"So, what exactly earned me this honor?"

He was cautious of everything — but he still had a calm tone. 

"You stood out."

"In what way?"

"Not telling you." I smirked and opened the passenger door. "So, ready for a ride?"

He hesitated, his eyes going back and forth between me and the ride waiting for him. After a sigh, he gave up on the doubt he was holding onto, and slid into the car's seat. 

I closed his door with a satisfied smile and took the driver's seat. I started the engine, and the interior glowed blue. The quiet hum soothed something in my chest.

George buckled himself in and I steered us out of the parking lot, heading onto the main road. 

We were silent for the first few turns. Not the bad type of silence — rather the adjusting to each other's presence one. He watched the passing streetlights, the reflections skating across his face. 

"So," he finally said, "are you going to tell me where we're going? Or is this a kidnapping situation?"

I laughed. "I'm not the kidnapper type — but it's a secret until we arrive. But if you wanna go back anytime, just tell me. I don't wanna make you uncomfortable."

He didn't give me an answer, but I could sense his nerves calming as we drove around town. I felt him staring at me from time to time, reading me quietly. 

I focused on the road, but could feel his eyes again. I huffed, a smile drawing on my face. 

"You'll stare a whole into me."

"I— I didn't mean to," he turned his head. "Im just... still unsure about your intentions."

"I don't have any other than getting to know you."

He jolted his head back to face me. "Why?"

I knew he would ask.

"Because you seem interesting."

"I'm— I'm not that interesting," he replied. 

"I'll be the judge of that." I smiled at him, turning the wheel. "We arrived to our destination, by the way."

I turned the last corner up the hill and pulled up to the edge. I parked the car and stopped the engine.

We sat in our seats, watching the city glow beneath us, the night sky stretching on top. The stars shined bright. Almost too bright. 

This was my favorite spot. Not many people came here. Or even knew about it. 

We stayed silent for some time, taking in the view.

"It's beautiful," admitted George quietly. 

"I had a hunch you'd like it." I turned my head to look at him. "So, tell me something about yourself."

He glanced at me. "I don't know what you want to hear." 

"Okay, then I'll ask. Where are you from?" I started. 

"UK, from Sheffield."

"So you are an exchange student. To be fair, your accent gave it away pretty quickly."

"Yeah. Everyone sounds different here as well."

"What about Karl? Did you know him before?"

"No, we became roommates here. And with his open personality, he took me into his everyday — and we're friends now."

"Reasonable. Karl is super friendly. Sapnap fell into his trap as well," I laughed. 

He smiled and I heard a small laugh. Tiny, but honest. Relaxed. 

"Yeah, seems like it. What about you and Sapnap?"

"We've known each other since forever. We met in elementary school and became best friends instantly. I dragged him into ice skating, and the rest is history."

"Sounds nice," he said. 

"You don't know Sapnap yet, then," I huffed. "Do you have friends back home?"

He glanced out the window. "A few. Old friends from school." 

I could feel the heaviness in his answer. He must be homesick. 

"Do you miss the UK?" I knew he did, it was obvious. But I'd rather hear his answer. 

"Yeah," he sighed lightly, "mainly the weather. It's cold and snowy there almost all year long." He looked up at me. "Are you from here?"

"Yup. I was born and raised in Florida. I lived my whole life in this hellish weather. And now I also go to university here," I shrugged.

"At least you're used to this."

"This?"

"Yeah. The place, the weather, the people."

"I guess," I said. "I still wanna move somewhere else after I graduate tho. I don't plan on staying here my whole life."

I looked over to George. His face was calm, looking up at the sky. The stars were shining back from his dark eyes.

"Do you hate it here?" 

"No," he shrugged, "I'm just not used to it yet. The dorm is great and all... but it's still not what I'm used to." 

He was slowly opening up. I had to ask a lot, but I didn't mind it. 

He pondered for a second. "I've never seen you there."

"You mean in the dorms?"

"Mhm."

"Because I don't live there. I have a house in the city."

George raised his eyebrows. "Rich rich."

I looked at him with a smile. He is hooked on the idea of me being rich, huh?

"It's my parents' house. I just rent it," I admitted. "They have houses all across Florida. They own a housing business."

"You rent it? But it's your parents' house."

"Yeah. My father says that nothing comes for free. I have to earn my own shit. And pay my own rent."

"Oh. I see." He turned to look out. 

He switched to silent again, watching over the night city. He looked annoyingly good in the dim lighting. 

I couldn't stop but remember when I first spotted him on the ice. 

"I saw you skate before," I stated. 

"Do you mean the time when you stared daggers at me?" he sharply asked. 

"Damn," I huffed. "Did I come across that mean?"

"Not mean, just..." he looked at me, blinking. 

"...just?"

"Consuming."

My heart jumped at that word. I couldn't give an answer. 

"Were you mad at us, for going on the ice?" he continued. 

I took a deep breath and leaned onto the steering wheel. "I wasn't mad."

"Then?" 

I turned my head and locked eyes with him. "I was amazed at how you skated. You were breath taking." 

George's eyes widened, then he quickly turned forward. He was already flustered from such a small compliment. 

Cute.

"I mean," I continued, "I've been skating since I could walk. People don't usually surprise me."

He turned his head, studying me, eyes sharper than the city lights. 

"Are you like this with everyone?" he suddenly asked. 

"Like what?"

"Flirty."

My eyes widened at his boldness. 

"I'm just being honest. If I was flirting, you'd know." 

George didn't look convinced. His fingers tapped lightly on his thigh restlessly.

The city lights flickered across his face, when he finally spoke again. 

"Okay. Then let me be honest too."

I turned slightly in my seat, giving him my attention. "Go on."

"You're hard to read."

A grin crawled on my face before I could stop it. "Most interesting people are."

"That's not—" he sighed. "You do things that don't make sense. You stare me down at the rink, and then pretend you didn't. Then you ask someone else for my name, but fail to introduce yourself first."

"Shitty moves from me, I know," I chuckled. 

"And now you're inviting me into your car and driving me up a hill like a movie cliché."

"Why, don't you like clichés?"

He shifted his weight, pulling his sweater into his palms. "I like... predictable things."

"Well," I laughed, "that makes one of us."

He let out a small huff, almost stubbornly holding it back. His breath fogged up the window for a moment, as he glanced out. 

"Is this what you do with people?" he asked. "Bring them up here and chitchat with them?"

I leaned forward again, looking at the view. "No." 

I didn't bring anyone here. Ever. But I couldn't say that to him. 

"Why not?"

"Not everyone is this interesting to talk to."

That made George freeze. His eyes snapped to me, like I broke an unspoken rule. 

He pointed at me. "There you go again."

"What? What did I do?" I laughed. 

"Flirting," he said with a sharp tone. 

"I swear, I'm not trying to."

I couldn't stop myself from staring at him. My smile was persistent, and I felt relieved for some reason. 

"I just don't know what you want from me," he said, as he fiddled with his hoodies laces. 

"What makes you think I want something?"

"Because people don't act like this if they don't."

Fair thinking. I wouldn't trust anyone out of the blue either. 

"If I wanted something, you'd know," I said. "I'm not subtle."

I leaned back, rested my arm on the window, and softened my voice just enough to sound trustworthy for him. 

"Relax, George. I'm not asking for anything. I just... want to know you."

"This again. Why?" he asked again, but this time it didn't sound like suspicion. It sounded like someone who hasn't been chosen like that before.

I looked at him, really looked. Messy hair, lost-in-thought eyes, small hands tucked into the sleeves of that giant sweater. His walls were up in his responses, but his body language said something different. 

"Because you seem like someone worth knowing." I said with a steady voice. "And you are interesting, so far."

He blinked. Once. Twice. His lips parted, and closed again — like he was suppressing his thoughts. 

"...You're impossible," he said finally, with a sigh. 

"I can't argue with that," I chuckled. "But you're still interested, aren't you?"

His eyes flickered to mine. For a moment, he didn't look away. It felt like I caught him in the truth. 

Before he could respond, my phone started to buzz aggressively in the cup holder. Sapnap's name filled the screen, vibrating loudly in the silence. 

What a great timing, Sap. 

I let it buzz once, twice, before reaching for it. George looked out the window again, letting the moment slip back into neutral.

I answered that damn phone. "What?"

"Dude— Phil puked on the speakers, Zak is losing his mind, and— oh my god... can you come help?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "I swear... Y'all can't survive without me for half an hour."

I heard George lightly laugh next to me at the whole scenario. 

I started the car and put down my phone. Sapnap was still talking, panicking on the other side of the line as my phone connected to the speakers. I cut him off.

"We're coming." I hung up and put the car in reverse. 

I looked at George, who had a question written on his face. 

"We?" he asked. 

"You think I'm going back into that without backup?" I tilted my head. "You're coming with me."

He gave me a long, suspicious look. "What, I'm your emotional support now?"

"Pretty much," I grinned, while I backed up from the parking spot. "C'mon. They're probably destroying the building as we speak."

George shook his head and sighed — but he didn't argue about it. He just... accepted it. 

And that was enough to make confidence spread through my chest as we drove back down the hill.

Chapter Text

George’s POV:

The streetlights went by fast, looking only as repeating flashing lights. We were going way over the speed limit, for sure. But Dream took the turns as if they were etched into his wrists, turning the steering wheel with the confidence of a car racer.

The way up the hill was mostly without words, too — but this time, it seemed weirdly quiet. I wanted to speak up, but whenever I glanced at Dream, I lost my words. He looked focused on the road, and didn’t initiate anything after we took our route down the main road.

Maybe me not answering to that question was the problem. But what could I say to that? Interested? I’ve only known him for a short period of time. I was rather intrigued by his sudden friendliness. His bluntness was somehow calmed me. He made everything seem light and easy, saying things aloud as if they were nothing.

Maybe they actually meant nothing to him.

I couldn’t decide if he was luring me in for a reason, or if he was just this kind of person — friendly with everyone. If he was just such an extrovert, he wouldn’t stick with me for long. The next stranger would come, and he would take them under his wings. And then the next, and the next, and so on. So it’s temporary. I’m tempo—

“Are you free next weekend?” Dream asked calmly.

It startled me up from my overthinking. I turned my head to face him.

“I don’t know—,” I blabbered. “Why?”

“We’ll sometimes go up to Orlando with Sap and the others, to do some fun stuff. It’s scheduled next Saturday. You and Karl should come along, if you’re free.”

An invitation, without a second thought about anything, it seemed. Me and Karl with his team?

“Is it common here for hockey players and figure skaters to—“ I paused.

“To hang out?” he asked. His eyes were steady on the road, while changing the gears.

“Yes, that.”

“For my team it is. Other than the senior figure skaters, we’re pretty much on good terms with the whole school.”

“Why not them?” I pinched my brows.

“They’re assholes, that’s why.” His voice became irritated.

“I see.” I didn’t wanna interrogate him while he was focused on driving. It didn’t feel like a light topic, either.

He parked the car in a close spot to the entrance. He angled his head towards me.

“It would be fun if you too came. To Orlando.”

He didn’t wait for my answer, only shrugged his shoulders and gave me a smile. It felt like asking was more important than the answer.

He took out his keys and got out. My door opened a few seconds later. He was grinning down at me, putting his weight on the car.

“C’mon. We need to scoop up some people inside.”

I freed myself from the seatbelt and hopped out. The car blinked yellow lights behind us and we took our steps inside.

I didn’t know what I was doing by his side, walking into the bees nest that was waiting for us. How did I end up next to him? Why did he take me out of the party, if his friends were still here? I had all these questions stuck inside my brain, overclouding my vision.

When we stepped into another hall, we bumped into Sapnap right away.

“Dream?” Sapnap looked up at him. “Finally. I was about to head out to call you again—“

He turned his head and noticed me, standing next to his friend.

“Um, and you…” he looked at me dumbfounded, his brows pinching in the middle. A smug smile started smearing on his lips.

“George, if you couldn’t remember.“

Dream held back a sudden laugh.

“Tck, couldn’t care to,” he replied with a hissing tone.

“Watch your mouth,” said Dream, his voice warning. He stared down with sharp eyes.

Sapnap put up his hands in the air.

“Okay, okay… No need to kill me, jeez—“

“Where are the others?”

“Back at the stage,” he replied.

Sapnap took a quick glance at me again, and turned around to lead the way. Dream took after him, and I followed with slower steps. He noticed my pace and jokingly missed a step to fall into mine.

“You know,” he smiled down, “Sapnap was dropped on his head as a baby.”

I chuckled at that. But, even if Dream didn’t jump in head first to stop him, I would’ve stood my ground. I was used to hockey players being like that to me.

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” I said, walking next to him.

“Do what?” he questioned.

“Stand up for me. I won’t take shit from people, even if you don’t interfere.”

“Ohh, you can swear?” he smirked back at me.

“Obviously,” I scoffed.

“And, it just came naturally. I’m too used to shutting Sapnap up.” He shrugged his shoulders with a smile, and turned around.

I saw the lights flickering inside, a band still performing for a much smaller audience than before. Plastic cups rolling around, chairs thrown all over the place. It looked like a fighting scene, almost.

As we got closer, loud bangs and yelling came out from up front. There were inaudible screams and laughter from all around, counteracting the smell of various alcohols in the air.

“I guess you’re in for a great time as well,” Dream snickered, stepping aside suddenly.

“What are you—“ I couldn’t finish my question, because Karl was a blink away from me, flying in my direction with open arms.

“Gogyyy!” he cried out, tears in his eyes, catapulting himself onto me.

“Wha— Karl? Are you alright?” I asked, pushing him off to see his face. He smelled strongly of liquor.

“Where weeere you?” he asked with a sad expression.

“I was— I was with Dream,” I mumbled. “But you’re way too drunk. Can you walk?”

I let go of his shoulders. He was wobbling from left to right, not being able to hold himself steady for a second.

“Jesus…” I whispered between my teeth.

Dream stepped back to me. He looked at Karl and scrunched his nose.

“Do you need a lift?”

“I don’t know if he can—“

“DREAM!” screamed someone from the back.

His eyes widened, and he reached into his pocket. After tapping around on it, he handed his phone to me in a hurry.

“Save my number and if— Phil don’t you dare— PHIL WHAT THE FUCK!!”

He turned around and left me there. I stood with my hands out, his phone in them, dialing opened on it. Should I just—

“George, I’ll…” Karl tugged on my arms, holding onto me. “I’ll throw up…”

“No no no, wait. We’ll get some fresh air and you’ll feel better, I’ll just—“

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I typed in my number as fast as I could, and hit the call button. I shoved the phone down my pocket.

“Hold onto me,” I put Karl’s right arm around my neck in a hurry, and started walking him towards the exit.

“Wait!” I heard from behind me.

I turned around and saw Dream, huffing from running. I took out his phone and pushed it towards him.

“Karl is about to— we need to go,” I cautioned.

“DREAM!!! If you don’t come back to help, I’m going to KILL SOMEONE!!”

A voice whipping down the hall for him, again. A guy was staring at our direction, while another was dangling from his back.

“Fuck…” he clicked his tongue.

“Go. It’s mayhem back there,” I chuckled.

He sighed. “Call me if you two can’t make it on foot.”

“Okay,” I blinked up at him, with Karl hanging from my side.

He took a few steps backwards, keeping the eye contact, before facing forward to jolt into the crowd.

I turned around with a strangely warm feeling. My mind was hazy — like I’ve been downing shots all night. I shook my head and stepped forward.

I dragged Karl over the hall, giving him positive affirmations along the way — so he wouldn’t show me whatever he consumed.

“Only five steps now, hang on.”

“Ugh,” he groaned, “you said this before…”

“Don’t complain and step!” I huffed.

I flung open the door with my free hand, holding onto Karl with the other. I navigated us to the bottom of the stairs and helped him sit down.

I could see colors slowly collecting on his face again, after being pale as a wall. He took deep breaths, leaning on his knees.

I rested my head in my hands, taking a deep breath. The parking lot was quiet, with only the low buzzing from the bugs flying around. The dull lights filled the area partially. It was much emptier than before.

I glanced to the right, where Dream parked. His car was standing in a darker spot, making it look more intimidating than it actually was.

My mind slowly replayed the visuals of tonight. The blue interior, glowing up as he started the car. The city lights glimmering in the dark, the stars shining above. Everything felt as if there was magic in the air.

I shook my head. It was just an unexpected week. Everything felt too good to be true.

I thought getting to know people was going to be complicated. But now, I’m invited to parties, hangouts and drives. It was all too much social pressure at once, yet it was somehow soothing my soul.

I told myself not to read into it. Late nights always felt more special than they were. I straightened my back and patted Karl on the shoulder.

“We should get going, can you stand?”

He didn’t answer me, just nodded a yes. I offered my shoulder as support again, and we started slowly walking.

———

I opened the tap, and it responded with a light squeak. I spit out my toothpaste and put my toothbrush into the cup. The bathroom fogged up from my shower, drowning in humidity. I swiped my hand over the mirror to remove the built up layer on it.

I looked up, making eye contact with my reflection. Tiredness glanced back at me, hiding in my black circles. Pale skin made my hair pop out as a dark contrast, strands of wet locks dangling into my even darker eyes. I looked for a while, trying to find something interesting, but failed to notice anything.

Why do I stand out?

I turned my head away. I can’t keep my thoughts entertained. I have to sleep.

I put on my biggest t-shirt, and headed out the door. It was dark, only the street lights giving some shade to the room. I looked at Karl, sleeping on the bed in his pants and hoodie. As soon as we walked in he collapsed, and he’s been snoring on his stomach ever since.

I pushed the AC’s controller a few times, cooling the air further down. I put my phone on charger and settled into bed.

I glanced up at the ceiling. The cracks and paint strokes slowly got visible when my eyes adjusted to the dark. I could hear the wind outside — the same as it has been acting for the past days. Florida started to cool off from its hellish summer, transitioning into a more bearable fall.

It was almost 3am, but my mind was nowhere near tired enough to let me sleep. Too many things happened the past few hours for my brain to digest them in one go.

I had images floating before my eyes — of the car drive, of the hill, of the mayhem at the party. I didn’t imagine my night like this. I thought nothing interesting would happen. A few drinks, small talks here and there and the occasional escape back to my room. That was my plan.

Instead, it was full of new people and unexpected conversations. How did I even end up with that person again? Why did I agree to anything and everything that he offered me?

It wasn’t mandatory for me to talk with him. It wasn’t forced upon me to sit into that car and have him drive around the city. It wasn’t necessary to follow him back into the party.

It was all on me. And I decided to jump into every possibility lying in front of me.

I lost my mind, I fear…

My phone buzzed once, and I turned to glance at it. It was a text, from an unknown number. At this hour?

I took it into my palms and opened the message.

Unknown: did you survive?

I instantly clicked out, and opened my history. I had a cancelled call from the same number an hour ago. I navigated around and saved it into my contacts, but made sure I was right.

George: Dream?

Dream: yup

Dream’s name suddenly popped onto the middle of the screen. The sudden vibration from my phone startled me. It was a call.

I took a second, but it would have been foolish not to answer. He knew I was awake.

The line clicked, and I put the phone to my ears.

“You alive?” Dream’s voice was quick, but tired.

“Barely,” I whispered.

“Why are you whispering?”

“Karl is sleeping.” I looked to his bed.

Dream laughed. A real, exhausted laugh.

“Same on my side. I just dropped the last body off.”

I shifted to the edge of the bed, and pushed the phone closer to my ear.

“You wouldn’t believe what happened after you left.” He took a deep breath. “Phil broke a table in half with a body slam, while Zak was hanging from Darryl’s back, laughing and screaming nonstop.”

I chuckled, as I pulled up my blanket.

“And then Sapnap decided it was time to down shots like a fucking idiot. I damn almost lost my mind.”

I laughed, almost too loud, snapping my free hand onto my mouth. I didn’t wanna deal with drunk Karl again, so I had to stay quiet.

I could hear the smile in his voice. “It was a long fight, but I successfully put three idiots to bed. They’re knocked out in the guest room.”

I could hear him putting things away, glasses clinking faintly.

“How did you survive?” he asked.

“Karl luckily didn’t throw up, so I dragged him all the way back. He cried half the time.”

“Why?” he chuckled.

“Something about skateboarding, and Sapnap, maybe?” I sighed. “I didn’t really understand. He was too drunk to talk properly.”

“That’s hilarious.”

A few silent moments passed. I heard cupboards closing, and after that cutlery clinking together.

Dreams voice followed. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

My eyebrows lifted lightly. “Asks the person who is emptying the dishwasher at 3am?”

He scoffed softly. “I’m wired. Too much adrenaline. Too many idiots to supervise.”

I hummed quietly. “Sounds like a leadership issue.”

He laughed under his breath. “You volunteering to take over?”

“I dragged a grown man across campus,” I whispered. “I think I’ve hit my quota.”

“That explains why you sound like you’re halfway asleep,” he replied. “You look tired.”

“You can’t see me.”

“I can hear it.”

I shifted under the blanket, staring at the dark ceiling.

“Don’t psychoanalyze me,” I muttered.

“I’m not,” he said easily. “I’m observant.”

That was a tiring characteristic. At least it was for me. I had it weaved with anxiety and caution. But his seemed more calm toned.

“So, what’s your plan for tomorrow?” he asked.

“Studying, mostly. I might visit one of the rinks to cool off.” I paused. “…you?”

“Practice, then some off ice strengthening,” he sighed. “Then some more practice.”

“On a Sunday?” I frowned.

“Yup. The competitions make the coaches crazy every year.”

“Sounds exhausting.”

“It’s nothing,” he said in a low tone. “So—“

“So?”

He paused, then continued cheerfully. “The last practice will end at 7pm. Come to the rink then.”

He sounded confident, as always.

I was still vary of him, in many ways. Now, I didn’t know why he would wanna skate with me. Especially after a whole day of practice? There was something off about that, but my brain was too tired to search for answers.

“We’ll see.”

“Ah yes, your favorite phrase,” he chuckled. “Okay, let’s get some sleep now. I’m beat.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Night, George.”

“Good night.”

The line cut off with a few beeps. Then, silence.

I rolled to my side to put my phone back on its charger and flopped back down onto the bed.

The pillow was cold on my cheeks — just like the air flowing from above. The blanket was pulled up to my chin, covering my whole body. My eyes felt heavy in the darkness, closing for longer and longer blinks, before I lost consciousness.

Chapter Text

GEORGE’S POV:

My eyes flew open to a loud bang. It sounded distant, but my heart still raced out of my chest. The sun beamed through the window, lighting up the whole room. I turned to my side and grabbed my phone off the night stand.

10:25

I pushed myself up from my bed and looked around. It was quiet, only the outside noises sneaking in faintly. I tossed my blanket away and got up.

A few steps later, I looked back to Karl’s side, but he was nowhere to be found. I turned back, and with my mind still hazy, I took my steps to the bathroom.

After washing up, I put on some pants and headed back out. As I closed the bathroom behind me, I heard a clicking sound.

The main door suddenly flung open. Karl stood there in his colorful shirt, hair messy, holding a plate in his hand. He looked like a zombie, but still talked as soon as he saw me.

“Gogy! You already awake? I just made us some breakfast,” he blurted, balancing the pile of thick pancakes in his hands.

I blinked at him. “Oh, thanks.” I was still half asleep.

He walked towards the table and put down the plate. “You like pancakes, right?”

“I do,” I nodded. “But ours looks different. It’s flat, and we eat it with jam.”

“Really?” he asked, tossing himself into a bean bag. “I don’t think we have jam. But we do have some maple syrup in the fridge.”

“That’ll do.”

I turned to our fridge and secured the goods. I walked back and collapsed on the other bean bag.

I took a piece and poured some syrup on top of it. I searched around the table with my eyes, looking for a utensil. My eyes ran over Karl’s plate. It was still empty. His expression was not the usual, either.

I grabbed a fork off the side. “Something’s wrong?” I asked.

He smiled at me. “Nah, just.. my head is about to explode.”

I chuckled. “I think you’re hungover.”

“Yeah, must be that…”

He shifted his weight to the sides, tucking his hands under his crossed legs.

“I wanted to say—“ he looked down, “—that I’m so sorry you had to, you know, deal with me last night. I must’ve been a pain in the ass. I didn’t mean to drink that much, you know.”

I took a bite and smiled at him. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“Ugh, still… I’m so embarrassed,” he cupped his face with his hands. “I don’t even know how I ended up like that.” he whined.

“How much do you remember?” I asked.

He tilted his head. “Like, half of it. It’s clear that I went with Sapnap and he introduced me. We started drinking and talking, and shots just kept appearing out of the blue…”

He threw his head back. “But I was still okay after those. Then, we played some stupid game where if you lost, you had to chug beer as punishment. I was on a losing streak of course, and drank a stupid amount.“

“Wow,” I listened to the story, munching on my food.

“After that, it all starts to blur. I have some snippets, like me and Sapnap yelling out stuff, and Zak trying to hold onto me as we stumbled around. He was pretty gone, too,” he sighed.

“Sounds wild,” I said with a light laugh.

I pushed my fork down onto the pile and took another pancake. I reached out again and put the next one onto Karl’s plate.

“Try some, they turned out great,” I gave him a smile.

Karl looked up, his face more relaxed now. “Thanks,” he huffed with a bright smile, and reached for the syrup bottle. “And thanks for not leaving me there, and putting up with me.”

“I told you. It’s fine. You would’ve done the same, I’m sure,” I replied.

“Hundred percent,” Karl smiled.

His eyes had black under circles, his lips chapped from dehydration. He looked half asleep, blinking more times than normal. I remembered back to the state he was in yesterday — a completely different person. Loud, energetic, screaming and crying. Falling all over the place, while trying to walk in a straight line. I chuckled to myself.

“What?” he asked, taking a big bite.

“Just remembered how you didn’t make sense half the time. Worrying about skateboarding and figure skating,” I laughed.

“Yeah, that tracks. I do that when I had too much,” he huffed, rolling his eyes.

Karl took another pancake and smothered it with syrup.

“Where were you, by the way?” he asked, looking up at me. “I remember you went out for air, but it’s empty after that.”

“Yeah. I went with Dream and then we—“ I stopped, leaning back from my plate, “—then we went for a ride.”

“Oh?” Karl said with a smile. “How was it?”

“Great, I guess?” My eyebrows twisted together. “Now it sounds weird. We just drove around in his car and… talked.”

“I see,” Karl chuckled.

I took a second to think about how I should phrase my next sentence — but I decided it’s best if I just blurted it out.

“Anyways, Dream invited us to Orlando next weekend.”

Karl’s expression became excited instantly, a big grin stretched across his face.

“Whaaat?” He leaned forward. “That sounds exciting! What’s the occasion?”

“A hangout with his friends. I don’t know the details,” I shrugged.

Karl leaned back, smiling to himself while staring at his plate. “So, what did you answer?”

“I didn’t. I’m still thinking about it.”

“Why, you don’t wanna go?” he pouted.

“It’s not that I don’t want to go. I just— I don’t even know them. How could I just agree to a hangout with strangers?”

Karl gave me a shake with his head. “They’re all really nice, don’t worry.”

“Judging from Sapnap, I wouldn’t be so sure,” I scoffed. “He was a jerk yesterday.”

Karl heightened his eyebrows, looking at me shocked. He didn’t understand what I was talking about. Of course he didn’t.

Sapnap was keen on Karl, as I’ve noticed. He talked to him softer than others — but that still didn’t make me like him. He was a piece of shit with me.

“What did I miss?” Karl asked with a curious look.

“A lot,” I replied.

“Sheesh…” Karl hissed. “Well, even if you don’t get along with Sapnap,“ he pondered, “Dream was nice, wasn’t he? You didn’t say anything bad about him.”

“Yeah,” I looked up, following the logic.

“And if I’m also there, that’s two for one already,” Karl counted out on his hand. “Also, Zak and Darryl are really nice. I don’t remember the others that much, but it’s still majority without them.”

I looked at Karl, holding up four fingers, tilting his head with a small smile.

“That’s four for one at this point, and I’m sure it’ll go up if we get to know the rest.”

Karl looked proud. Logic was the best way to cooperate with my brain, and he seemed to realize that by now.

I huffed out a laugh. “I’ll see. It’s still a week away.”

“Sure! Think about it some,” he grinned with a victorious voice.

I reached for my phone and noticed the time flying by. I got up from the table, clanking our plates together as I collected them.

“I’m going to study later, and skate. You wanna join?” I glanced down.

Karl took a big breath, stretching his legs. “I’m super tired. Studying might actually kill me at this state,” he said. “I guess I’ll sleep some later.”

“I’ll tidy up here as a thanks for the breakfast,” I said.

He got up, and wobbled to his bed.

“Thanks Gogy,” he waved back, yawning.

———

The library became quieter with each passing hour — people finishing their work and heading out as late afternoon rolled in.

Sunlight still seeped in through the roof windows, painting long, warm streaks across the tables. I leaned back in my chair, blinking at the page in front of me. My pen resting between my fingers, my notebook filled with messy formulas. It was like a treasure map — arrows pointing back and forth, X-es over writings, doodles along the sides.

My brain said its final goodbye and I couldn’t solve any more equations. I took a deep breath, proud of the hours I dedicated to physics. It had a way of tiring me down in a good way. I closed my notes and put away my pens.

My phone lit up on the desk.

17:52. Also, a text.

Dream: I’ll be at arena 3, I finish at 7

I’ll text him back when I’m at the dorm.

I planned on going on the ice sooner, but time flew by faster than I anticipated. I might as well wait for him at this point.

I stacked up my books, but noticed an odd one brushing on my fingers. I slid it out of the bunch and recognized the golden font instantly. The subconscious mind in dreams. I needed to return it, anyway — it was just as useless as I thought it would be.

I opened it for a last time, flipping through the pages lazily, scanning familiar paragraphs. Lucid dreaming. Recurring symbols. The way the brain clings to faces it doesn’t fully understand.

I stopped at a page I remembered, my eyes slowing as I reread a sentence.

The mind often revisits what it refuses to confront while awake.

I scoffed quietly under my breath.

Certain dreams often revisit when the problem that feeds it hasn’t been solved yet.

Another familiar phrase, just as cliche as the previous one, and the following bunch.

The brain can’t make up new faces. It feeds from already encountered people’s looks.

The next section was more entertaining, but I still wasn’t amazed by the predictable explanations.

I tossed a few pages to the front.

Sexual dreams are often directly related to problem-solving situations…

“Oh my god,” I muttered under my breath as I shut the cover closed.

Enough reading for today.

I checked the time again.

18:45

My stomach dropped.

“Oh— shit.”

I shoved the book-pile into my backpack and halfway closed the zipper. I stood up so fast that my chair made a loud noise, scraping on the ground beneath. I got a few angry stares as I whispered a sorry into the air, hurriedly stepping towards the exit.

I flung the door open and stomped down the hallway, half-running through campus. I’d planned to be back by now. Planned to change, to grab my skates, to convince Karl to come with me.

And here I was, running down the street to the dorms, already late.

I hurried up to the second floor and crashed into the room. I threw my bag onto the bed, books falling down to the floor.

I looked over to Karl’s bed. He was lying on his side, knocked out.

“Karl, wake up,” I huffed.

I stripped off my pants, to put a warmer on underneath.

“Ugh… what?” he groaned half asleep.

“Ice skating. Remember?” I asked, pushing my head through a warmer sweater. “You coming, right?”

“My head hurts… I’ll skip this time,” he slowly muttered.

Karl turned to his other side, pulling up his blanket to block the light from the window.

“Karl, don’t do this to me,” I whined out of frustration, reaching for my skates at the end of the bed. I stopped for a second, waiting for an answer.

I didn’t get any — only heavy breathing, hinting at Karl giving up on staying awake.

I looked back from the door, with my skates hanging from my shoulder.

I huffed. “Rest up then.”

I rushed down the same path, onto the street, hastily making my way to the main building. The university halls felt endless, and dead — only a few people walked past me.

I checked the time on a wall clock as I stomped past.

19:12

I took the stairs two at a time, skipping down towards the rinks. My breath came quicker now, chest rising and falling as I tried to remember the details.

Which arena was it again? Was it 3 or 4?

I slowed my steps as I reached the bottom. My hands reached into my pockets to check everything again.

My eyes widened.

Empty.

Both of them.

“My phone…” I whined.

I closed my eyes for half a second, trying to remember the message in my head.

Guilt climbed up my throat, making my stomach flip.

I hope that he already left.

I stepped to a door, with a huge three written on it. I froze for a second, eavesdropping, but I didn’t hear any noises coming out. I slowly pushed the door ajar, quietly entering the space.

The lighting inside was dim, the cold air cutting straight to my lungs. I looked around the empty rink as the door hit my back.

Taking a few steps down the stairs, I noticed someone sitting on the bottom of the benches. Elbows resting on their knees, broad shoulders, curls forming on their head.

Dream.

He had his phone in his hand, pushing it against his ear. He lowered it after a few seconds with a sharp exhale leaving his body.

“Damn…” he murmured to himself, staring at the screen.

I got closer, stepping one stair at a time. I was quiet, matching the dead air in the rink. My heart slowed and a deep breath followed.

“Hey.”

Dream snapped his head back and looked up at me. For a second, his expression didn’t change — then his face changed into something softer, friendlier.

“George,” he huffed with a light smile. “Is everything cool? I tried to call you.”

I stepped closer and sat down on the other side, only the pathway splitting us.

“I left my phone at the dorm,” I said, turning my head away. “Sorry I’m late.”

He waited for me. I felt guilty.

“No worries,” he replied easily.

Just like that.

He bent down and started tying the laces on his black skates.

“How’s Karl doing?” he asked.

No comment about the wait. No annoyance.

“Better. He slept the day away,” I scoffed.

“Lucky him,” Dream chuckled. He stood up, circling his ankles around. “You ready?”

I did the last row on my skates, and finished everything off with a double bow for security.

“Yeah,” I said, straightening my legs.

Dream took his way down to the rink, and I followed in his steps. We reached the bottom when he turned back, locking eyes with me.

He tugged away his hands into his grey sweatpants, and took a nonchalant step back. With a cocky smile on his face, he slid away.

I couldn’t stop my eyes from rolling up out of annoyance. I huffed with a smile and took the last few steps to the rink. I followed him with a less egotistical, but much more elegant entrance.

Our blades scraped the ice with a satisfying sound, my ears enjoying the show. My legs felt hot after all the running around, but I didn’t mind. Breaths evened out in my chest, welcoming the frosty air with a small smile on my lips.

We started circling around the rink with a slow pace. I warmed up my arms, stretching out some sleeping muscles. I felt stiff after sitting all day.

Dream circled into the middle area a few times, imitating some harsh turns. He flowed around on the ice from left to right, leaning into the edges of his skate.

I was tired enough to not show anything big. I didn’t feel like trying my luck with jumps, but I did a few spins and poses, collecting all the balance I had.

Dream appeared in my sight suddenly. He skated backwards, matching my pace, gliding in waves in front of me.

“So,” he started.

“So?”

“How about you teach me some figure skating moves?” He was grinning.

I narrowed my eyes. “Like what?”

“Like an Axel, or a fancy pose.”

He turned around, lifted one leg up in the air, and straightened out his arms to his side. He was trying to imitate the classic leaning forward pose.

I chuckled. “You tryna switch teams?”

“Would I have a chance?” he laughed, trying to balance himself, before finally giving up.

“I don’t think you would qualify even for the beginner class,” I replied, putting my hand in front of my mouth to stop myself from laughing.

“Ouch,” he smirked. “My pose needs more practice, I guess.”

Dream started skating backwards again, facing me with arms behind his back. He had a confident stance, slicing the ice with his blades as if he was born to skate. His movements weren’t too harsh, but they weren’t simply elegant either. They were powerful and dominant.

“Now, let’s see how it’s supposed to be done,” he smirked.

I contemplated for a second. I looked back up at Dream, still following my speed. I tried to search for any judgment or belittling on his face, but couldn’t find any. He had a calm expression on, patiently waiting for my response.

I let out a breath, kind of annoyed at myself for the decisions I made around him.

“Okay. But just this once, so pay attention.”

He stopped with a loud scrape on the ice.  “All eyes on you.”

That sentence made me even more nervous than before.

I gained some speed, and did a simple Axel with the same finish he tried to do — my body leaning forward, arms straight, left leg horizontal with my torso. I held the pose for some seconds, then rounded everything with a small bow.

I skated up to Dream again, still standing in one place.

He crossed his arms together. “Mine was better.”

My eyes widened, and I couldn’t help but crack up at his stupid joke.

He followed up with his own laugh.

“In your dreams,” I scoffed, sliding away.

He fell into rhythm next to me, and we skated in silence for a while again.

He shook his head. “Seriously, how can you do it like that?”

“Practice. Years of it.”

“Practice alone doesn’t give someone this much grace.”

I frowned. “You’re at it again. Saying stupid stuff,” I scoffed.

He looked down at me with a teasing smirk. “I can stop.”

“Please do.”

“Okay.” He lifted his hands in surrender. “I won’t say another word.”

We went a few circles in silence, only the ice making a popping sound under our feet. A sudden idea popped into my mind to ease the silence.

I stopped abruptly, turning to face him. “Let’s play a game.”

He raised an eyebrow, still committing to his non-talking.

“I’ll ask questions,” I said, “but you can only answer in one word.”

That way he won’t turn it into something flirty again, but I can still know more about him and overcome some of the doubts I have about him.

Dream’s smile returned, slow and amused. “Bet.”

I pushed off again. “You’re serious?”

“Yes.”

“One word answers only. No cheating.”

“Deal,” he smiled.

He kept his distance now, skating in smooth arcs, letting me set the pace.

I tested his dedication.

“Still one word?” I asked.

“Promised.”

I smiled. “Okay then. Are you a senior?”

“Yes.”

“Sapnap, too?”

“Yup.”

I took a deep breath. “Do you love skating?”

“Very much.”

“That’s two words. Cheater.”

He shrugged with a smile. “Oops.”

I pulled back my hands into my sweater. We silently rounded the corner.

“Why hockey?” I asked.

“Escape.”

I turned my head. “From what?”

“Home.”

He didn’t hesitate with his answers. His expression didn’t change.

I tried not to sound like I was interrogating him.

“Bad home?”

“Complicated.”

“Parents?”

“Yes.”

“Both?”

“Both.”

I exhaled slowly. I hated how calm his answers were.

“How old when you started skating?”

“Eight.”

“That young?”

“Yup.”

“Your choice?”

“No.”

I glanced at him. He was looking straight ahead, focused on the ice.

“Then why keep going?” I asked.

He took a second before saying something this time.

“Control.”

I slowed, letting my skates hiss against the ice. My head was throbbing from the amount of thoughts that his answers sparked.

“Do they come to your games?” I continued.

“Sometimes.”

“Are they proud?” I asked.

“Selective.”

I nodded to myself, like that explained everything. The curiosity in me started weighing my mind.

“Why are you called Dream?”

He shrugged with a smug smile. “Fame.”

I rolled my eyes. “So you gave yourself that name?”

“No.”

My eyebrows lifted. “You didn’t?”

“Nope.”

“I don’t—” my brain clicked. “Was it given to you?”

“Yes.”

“By who?”

“Everyone.”

We skated another lap. The boards rushed past in a blur of white and glass.

My chest tightened as the next question came into my mouth.

“Why did you reach out to me?”

“Talent,” he said easily.

I scoffed. “I’m not that talented, nor am I outstanding as you—“

“Bullshit.”

He shot a serious look down at me.

I expected him to stop the game at this point, but he just slid next to me silently, waiting for my next question.

I hated how easy it was to ask like this. How the rule turned everything into something simple — clean edges, no spirals.

“Okay, let’s say you’re honest and my talent lured you in,” I exhaled, trying not to sound stupid. “But rarely does my talent show in a car ride, or in a phone call at three in the morning.”

“True,” he smiled.

“So then why continue reaching out?”

He looked at me, then back ahead. “Familiarity.”

“In me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” I asked.

He shrugged his shoulders. “Mystery.”

I didn’t understand why would we be similar. What could he see that I barely could. We didn’t even know each other like that.

I pondered on a logical answer to this, when Dream suddenly stopped before me with a loud scrape on the ice.

“My turn,” he smiled. “I ask, you answer. You in?”

I narrowed my eyes. “I have a feeling it won’t go well.”

“Why wouldn’t it?” he asked. “Mine was fun, wasn’t it?” he grinned.

Almost as if we had two different conversations. He was too calm for someone who just said some personal things.

I sighed, giving in. “No weird questions,” I gave him a sharp-eyed look.

He chuckled. “No weird questions, I swear.”

I pushed off with my right leg. “Fine.”

My skates bypassed him and I continued skating, Dream following beside me. He put his hands into his pockets and locked in.

He took a deep breath.

“Coffee or tea?” he asked.

“Tea.”

“Morning or night person?”

“Night.”

“Favorite place?”

I huffed. “Ice.”

“Figured,” he said, a smile dragging on his face.

I relaxed a bit. This was fine. Harmless.

Dream continued. “Do you like to have a routine?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” he asked.

I hesitated on the right answer.

“Order.”

“Is it important?”

“Very,” I answered.

He hummed. “So you plan ahead?”

“Mostly.”

The ice hissed under our blades as we turned. Dream didn’t ask anything for a whole round.

He switched his position, still sliding next to me, now backwards. He looked at me.

“You trust easily?”

I almost tripped at the question.

“No,” I replied.

“What about me?” he grinned.

This tricky bastard.

He promised no weird questions and here he is, smiling down at me, asking this.

But if he wasn’t playing fair, I didn’t have to either. I didn’t need to answer honestly.

“Maybe,” I smirked.

“Damn,” he laughed, keeping the eye contact. “I guess I’ll take that.”

A high pitched beeping sound came from the distance. We stopped in the middle of the rink, looking at the little machine starting his routine.

“Shit,” Dream clicked his tongue, looking up at the clock.

19:55

“Should we get going?” I asked.

“Yup. They close the arenas at eight,” he sighed loudly.

We skated to the exit, sitting down on the benches to change our skates to shoes. We gathered our stuff and headed out of the arena.

The hallways were empty as we walked through the campus, only our voices filling the air. We talked about our schedule next week, the upcoming exams, the weather changes and our differentiating skating lessons.

Stepping out the exit, Dream glanced back at me from the bottom of the stairs.

“You need a lift?” he smiled.

“No, thanks. It’s only a ten minute walk,” I replied.

“See you around then, George.”

“Mhm,” I hummed with a polite smile.

———