Ilia knew about the pressure of performing at the Olympics. He’d already helped Team USA win gold in the team event. He knew that the spotlight was on him, the quad god, the two time world champion, seemingly unbeatable. And he had to pretend the pressure wasn’t there at all.

Something felt wrong from the moment he stepped on the ice for the free skate. The second Ilia pulled out of the quad axel, it was like he was watching from above, watching as everything he had worked so hard for, came tumbling down.

8th overall. Not even close to medal contention.

Ilia tried to accept it, he tried to understand that maybe something had been wrong. He just couldn’t work out what. It was devastation from the second he stepped off the ice, his blue eyes holding a pain and vulnerability he tried too hard to hide. A rough hand through fluffy blonde hair, a brief show of upset.

The condolences came thick and fast, the world shocked at how the unbeatable Ilia Malinin, had somehow, not even made a podium place.

Ilia didn’t even know where to begin. His to lose, they’d said. Well he’d certainly lost.