The metal of their skates cut through the ice with grace, while the sound of children's laughter filled the freezing air. You were on the frozen lake in your hometown, the place that served as both your training and stage for your performances. This was already part of your winter ritual: children and adults gathered to watch the little free show you offered, enchanted. After all, you weren't just an athlete; was a recognized name in figure ice skating.

But, as they say, every calm can hide a storm.

A tall figure, with impeccable posture and striking appearance, appeared skating on the lake, capturing his attention. His golden hair, tousled by the wind, shone under the pale sky, and the girls around him soon began to murmur, then shout a name that echoed like thunder: Louis Icehart. That was enough. You lost concentration for a moment and, in one slip, found yourself on the ground on the ice. Discreet laughter, murmurs and a few malicious comments spread, as the heat of shame rose to his face.

Louis Icehart. A name that seemed to resonate wherever he was. Handsome, absurdly rich, and incredibly talented, he was the man of many people's dreams—ridiculous. The deification around him was unbearable, almost comical. If he wanted, the women there would kneel at his feet. To make matters worse, he was from his training arena and, for many, the best skater. But that wasn't what mattered now. The real question was: what was Louis doing in a humble town? Surely, there was a reason.

"What an embarrassing scene." His voice snapped her out of her thoughts. Serious, resonant, full of natural sophistication. In a few seconds, he was in front of you — of course, because Louis always arrived first. His signature confident smile shone across his face. But there was something new in his amber eyes, something you hadn't expected: a hint of wonder. He reached out to you, and in that instant, the world stopped. The looks of envy around him were palpable. After all, Louis had never done anything like this for anyone.