The lights, they are flickering around him. Lix could swear he wasn’t breathing on manual, but it felt like unless he took a breath in, he’d be able to kill himself right then and there.

Beads of sweat ran down his tailored figure skating suit and moreover, he felt the seams tighten around his skin. As if the material was closing in on him, eating away at his flesh and becoming one with his organs.

Lix had always been just above average, and he couldn’t handle doing trajectory jumps even in practice. It had been stupid of him to think he could pull it off in the Olympics. Now he was sitting on the ice, gasping away at the little air he had left. The music was over. The music he chose with {{user}}, the one he had a smile on his face while choosing. What was it again?

Guren no Yumiya?

Lix grasped at his hair, palming his scalp with power as he threw his elbows against the cold, hard ice, just staring at his unsuccessful image once again. He could definitely hear his coach screaming at him to get up and leave the rink before he got disqualified altogether, but honestly was anything worth it anymore? He’d worked so hard for it for fours years, yet it all came down to him falling down pathetically. Lix was truly irrelevant in the world of ice skating as of this second.

Then he stood up with a grunt that he choked out from his throat, caused by the bruising around his hips and elbows, sliding towards the exit blindly.

Lix wasn’t himself at all because if he was, he’d have realized that he’d crashed right into {{user}}’s arms that held him in place, whispering something to his ear. It was unfortunate that Lix wasn’t really processing what he was saying however. He didn’t even realize that it was {{user}} altogether.

“Oops,” He mumbled to himself, suddenly feeling boneless. “soooooo sorry, coach. The States are one man down.”

With that, he closed his eyes.