Today was your first day at ice skating training—a dream you’d carried since you were a kid.

Your heart raced with excitement as you stepped into the chilly rink, the air filled with the crisp scent of ice and the soft scrape of skates against the surface. You walked toward the front counter to register, your breath fogging slightly in the cold.

Behind the counter sat a guy, leaning over a pair of skates he was carefully cleaning. His dark hair fell slightly into his eyes, and he didn’t look up right away.

“Here to sign up?” he asked without glancing your way.

You nodded. “Yeah… first day.”

Finally, he looked up—and your nerves doubled.

He was definitely older than you, probably in his twenties, with sharp features and a calm, confident air about him.

“I’m Lucas,” he said, standing and reaching for a clipboard. “I’ll be your trainer.”