The frozen lake cracked beneath his feet, but he didn't notice. Eyes closed he was enjoying the the feeling, the freedom. Cold air swept through his hair as he skated with speed across the lake, his movements precise and elongated, matching the beat of the music pulsing through his earbuds.

Here, skating alone, dancing on the ice, is where he felt the most free.

Nobody else understood the joy that skating brought him; they never even tried. They were to busy trying to convince him against it.

Saying it was lame, too girly, too seasonal or too expensive. The last one he understood but everything else? Mabe his blood boil.


He wanted to get away from all of it.

At least for now.

The argument he had earlier with his father still replaying in his mind. So he immersed himself further in his routine, practicing harder and harder moves, maybe to prove something, maybe to himself.


He missed the sound of cracking ice beneath him and the dark clouds gathering overhead. Thunder roared in the distance but not loud enough to break through the music.

The ice broke beneath the surface and refroze in seconds of he didn't feel the difference in the texture underfoot.


He however noticed the small animals. Rabbits, birds and mice, that had taken shelter beneath the bridge that connected two sides of the long lake.

They were his audience, his only audience.

For them, he’d put on a show.

So he played his favourite song, his hardest choreography. And so he started, giving it all his heart.


Starting with a deep edge glide right in front of his audience, leading into an extended, dramatic pose to set the mood and create suspense.

He then begins with a series of small, rapid steps across the ice, shifting effortlessly from one foot to the other. Next, he shifts into a sequence of tight turns, each of which reverses the skater’s direction in one quick movement. He adds flair with unexpected variations. Then he moves into twizzles—multiple rapid spins on one foot—executed with pinpoint accuracy, making him appear to be spinning effortlessly across the ice.

Throughout the sequence, his arms are in constant motion, matching the intensity and rhythm of his footwork.


At some point he saw her, standing on the bridge. His crush was watching him, stunned.

Maybe she was enchanted by his dance?

She was beautiful and kind but though they barely spoke at school anymore she preferred to hang out with his old basketball crowd, as if that was a superior sport.

He was not going to let this opportunity go, this was the chance to impress her.

She seem to be shouting something his way, but once again the music was too loud in his ears while he's focus was solely on the dance.

Anyway she was probably cheering for him.


Without missing a bit, he shifted his weight onto the back outside edge of one foot, while swinging the opposite leg and both arms forward. The free leg swings sharply up and around to initiate rotation.

In a powerful, controlled motion, he jumps off the toe pick of his back skate, launching into the air. He rotates four times in the air at lightning speed. The he lands, gliding smoothly backward, with his knee bent deeply to absorb the impact and maintain balance.


Wanting a reaction he looked back up, only to see that his crush had called her friends over, the basketball team members.

They’d been friends once, too, until he left the team for skating. He could sense their disappointment when they saw him now, a reminder of his decision to leave basketball. Leaving to do something he loved.

This was good! He could show them too! Show them that he wasn't half-hearted about that decision.


Faded voices barely cut through as the music softened for a moment, they were shouting from the bridge.

He hesitated to look their way however, something hit him couldn't face them yet.

Some others had run up to the edge of the lake but didn't dare to step forward. And then the music hit another verse.

No. They weren't going to mock him. They wouldn't take this away from him. He would show them but he was capable of.


Gliding smoothly across the ice with a powerful upward motion, he jumps into the air, tucking his free leg under and kicking it forward, creating the illusion of flight.

In midair, his body is stretched out horizontally, with arms extended and head held high, trying for a majestic and almost weightless look. As he lands gently on one foot, he then immediately transitions into a spinning position.


His back is arched slightly, and his arms are outstretched for balance, creating a look of elegance. As the spin begins to slow, he prepares for a position change. With a quick movement, he lowers himself into a sit spin position, with his supporting leg bent deeply and his free leg extended forward. he brings his arms closer to his body to pick up rotational speed. The faster spin emphasizing his balance and control, making the spin appear almost like a blur as his body remains perfectly stable.


Moving faster then he could see, he was still lost in his performance, unaware that the wind had picked up or that thunder was closer now. He hadn’t noticed the ice fracturing and re-forming beneath him, nor the concerned expressions of those gathering along the shore.


Transitioning to the next part he picked again at his audience. Only to meet his greatest enemy.

His father was here, with his mom right behind him.

Now them he definitely couldn't face, not after what dad had said to him a little over an hour ago... what he himself said.

-- "I'm serious about this! I love ice skating!" He said passionately


"Thats great and all but I’m just… I’m just not sure how much longer we can keep doing this." His father argued only to be met with more resistance.


"What do you mean? Skating’s my thing! I’m finally making real progress."


“It costs too much,” his father’s voice grew louder. “You’re coming home exhausted, your grades are slipping. It’s not worth it for a hobby!”

Memories of his son being depressed overtaking his emotions.


"It's not just a hobby! I'm taking this seriously I'm going to-" he was cut off by yelling


"Skating championships are nothing! Why can’t you be this dedicated to basketball? People ask me what my son is doing, it’s hard to explain…" His father’s voice had trailed off, realizing he’d gone too far.


"Explain what dad? That skating’s “too girly”? That it’s “not normal” for a guy to be a figure skater? You think that, too?" He rambled, letting his own thoughts be heard.


"No thats not- Skating’s a tough sport, and there’s no guarantee you’ll make it and-"


"Maybe I’m not who you wanted, then. You wanted an athlete, not a dancer. Isn't that right? Somebody you can brag about!" He continued not sure if he was talking to his father or himself.

"Wait no i- "


"I HATE YOU" he stormed off to the only place he could find his freedom --


No, he definitely couldn't face them. Maybe if he showed them he was serious. That he could definitely make it. They would finally praise, him instead of just accepting it.

So he decided it, it wasn't part of the choreography but he could do it instead of the finale.

They finally came to watch one of his performances for the every first time after all! He couldn't disappoint.

He was going to try the hardest move in the whole sport.


He glides once again forward on a deep outside edge, building speed and focusing intensely. In one swift, powerful motion, he digs his toe pick into the ice, springing upward.

As he ascends, he pulls his arms and legs tightly together, like a coil, to accelerate his rotation speed. The rotations are so fast that he seems suspended mid-air, almost defying gravity.


But as he reaches the fourth rotation in the air, his body begins to tilt slightly, a sign that he’s losing control.

He panicked, his arms start to pull out of alignment, and his legs separate just a bit, but enough to destabilize the spin.


He landed awkwardly, his skate striking a crack in the ice, and in a heartbeat, the ground gave way beneath him, letting him sink inthe cold, dark water of the lake.

The freezing water enveloped him, stealing his breath and pulling him under. He tried to surface, but the harsh, unforgiving weather refroze the hole in the lake above him, there was no way out now.

His heart rate pinked up, adrenaline increasing his awareness and panic.

He struggled, trying to inhale but only drawing icy water into his lungs.

The coldness of the water chiling him instead and out.


Seconds passed for what felt to him like an eternity, his body going into a state of hyperventilation.

Was this the end? Was he going to die?

No that cant happen. He hadn't achieved his dreams yet!

Wining the championship, getting on the national team, competing in the world stage, participating in the winter Olympics! He wanted to do those things, he had the chance to!


He tried swimming to the surface only to hit his head on the thick ice. He could feel the water traveling bown his throat and filling up his lungs as he coughed the last bit of air he had.

Desperate, he looked up. A hand was visible though the ice, hitting it relentlessly.

a hand that looked worn and strong, calloused from years of work and pride.

Was dad calling out to him?


'Oh i see'

His wish wasn't too win and prove himself.

He wanted them there.

Cheers for him when his won, fight for him against others who mistreated him, puss him through when it all got to hard.

He wanted them to came see him, see the dances he worked so hard on.

Maybe he got his wish after all.