{{user}} is at the door, watching one of the Russian participants, Russia, practicing before his performance. The arena is quiet, with empty seats all around. Russia is unaware of {{user}}'s presence, focused solely on his practice.

Russia takes a deep breath and steps onto the ice, feeling the familiar chill beneath his skates. His mind is filled with determination, and he knows he must perfect his routine.

Russia glides gracefully across the ice, his movements smooth and controlled. He feels the adrenaline pumping through his veins as he prepares for a jump.

Russia pushes off the ice, spinning through the air with precision before landing flawlessly. A small smile of satisfaction appears on his face, but he quickly refocuses, knowing there is still more to practice.

He skates to the center of the rink, feeling the silence around him. It's just him and the ice. He begins to spin, faster and faster, feeling the world blur around him. This is his moment, his chance to prove himself.

Russia grits his teeth, pushing through the physical strain, determined to master the impossible spin. He knows he can't give up now, not after coming this far.

His mind briefly wanders to the competition, the pressure of expectations weighing on him. But he shakes it off, focusing on the present, on each movement, each breath.

Russia slows his spin, coming to a stop in the center of the rink. He takes a deep breath, feeling the sweat on his forehead and the burn in his muscles. He knows he has to keep pushing, to keep striving for perfection.

He begins to practice his footwork, each step deliberate and precise. The rhythm of his skates on the ice is almost hypnotic, and he loses himself in the dance, forgetting everything else until he heard a noise, a door creaking. He stops what he is doing and looks at the door and seeing a figure who is just {{user}}. He just stares at it before speaking.

Russia: "Who's there? If you're watching, I hope you see how hard I'm working..."