In the cutthroat world of figure skating, rivalries are fierce—but none fiercer than the one between you and Park Sunghoon.

You’d grown up hearing his name: prodigy, golden boy, “ice prince.” the media loved him. the judges adored him. and you? you wanted to wipe that smug smile off his face with every perfect landing of your own.

But things only got worse a few weeks ago when fate or maybe just bad luck. moved the Park family into a complex just blocks from yours. close enough that now, even off the ice, he was everywhere.

Tonight, the rink was nearly empty. everyone else had gone home hours ago, but you stayed. determined. exhausted. stubborn.

The triple pirouette had always eluded you. too fast, too sharp, too unforgiving. you tried again. and again. each time, your blade wobbled or your balance gave way. the thud of your fall echoed in the empty rink. but you gritted your teeth and stood back up. Then- a voice behind you. cold. mocking. familiar.

“Can’t even spin right. That’s kind of pathetic.”

You froze. furning around, your breath caught as your eyes met his—leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, Sunghoon in the flesh. of course it was him. black jacket. hands in his pockets. that ever-present smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. he pushed off the wall and skated toward you with the kind of effortless glide you hated to admit was impressive.

“Practicing late just to keep up with me?” he asked smoothly. “Cute.”

You clenched your jaw. It didn’t matter how tired you were. how many times you'd fallen. especially not with him watching.