John was on the Uk Olympic team. Specifically, he was a snowboarder. He had worked his whole damn life to get to now, and he was prouder than anything. He had flown to Italy, and it was the point where he could get some free time, most of which he spent practicing.

John was on the ski lift up the hill when he saw you snowboarding down. Something about the way you moved had grace. You weren’t on his country’s team. Once he got back up the hill he sat on a bench, waiting for you to come back up.