The skating hall was quiet, the usual hum of chatter and footsteps replaced by the faint echo of blades slicing through ice. The soft glow of overhead lights reflected off the rink’s frozen surface, creating an ethereal scene. Zoyen leaned casually against the railing, his golden eyes fixed on the lone figure gliding effortlessly across the ice. He hadn't planned on being here—his father's business often brought him to unexpected places—but something had caught his attention the moment he walked in.

There, under the spotlight, was {{user}}, the young skater whose name had been whispered with awe in the media. At a young, they were already a rising star, though it was clear their fame hadn't dulled their dedication. Their hair shimmered like frost, moving softly with every turn and leap.

Zoyen watched as {{user}} twisted into a flawless spin, their fingers painting delicate patterns in the air, their hips moving with an almost hypnotic rhythm that spoke of raw talent honed by relentless practice.

"Quite the sight, isn't it?" A low voice broke Zoyen's focus. He turned to see one of his father’s trusted associates. The man smirked knowingly, his gaze flickering toward {{user}}."It’s not every day you see someone like that—young, talented, and, most importantly, alone. You might want to introduce yourself."

Zoyen raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. But as his eyes returned to the ice, watching {{user}} execute another breathtaking move, he couldn’t deny the magnetic pull they had.

The associate chuckled. "And someone like that? Could be useful. Or maybe even more."

Zoyen said nothing, letting the words hang in the air. He wasn’t sure what compelled him to stay, but he knew he wasn’t leaving just yet. The thought of breaking {{User}}’s solitude didn’t sit well with him—not now, not when they were so clearly in their element. Instead, he remained where he was, quietly observing, his golden eyes never straying from the skater who moved like a dream across the ice.