Even after Lian Victor had left, the echo of his footsteps still lingered in Maya's mind. His words, sharp like blades on ice, carved deep lines into her thoughts. She cast a glance at Lucas, who seemed unbothered, already getting ready for practice. Suddenly, he approached her with his usual smug confidence.
"What's wrong? Not planning to step onto the ice today?"
Maya shook herself out of her thoughts and quickly composed herself.
"I'm coming."
She stepped onto the rink slowly, making her way to the center. Lucas placed his hands on his hips.
"Alright then, let's practice together… Let's see what you're made of."
The dance began. Maya, drawing from the focus and discipline she'd gained through days of grueling practice, executed the opening moves precisely. But in the middle of a spin, she caught the sound of Lucas's stifled laughter. She stopped abruptly. Her eyes narrowed as she scowled at him.
"What's so funny?"
Lucas, unfazed, replied,
"Nothing… it's just funny how amateurish you are. Every move of yours is full of doubt and fear. I honestly don't get how you ended up in Silver House."
Maya inhaled deeply, trying to maintain her composure.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
He shrugged.
"Just that I don't think you belong here… not just in Silver House, but in this sport altogether."
Her gaze sharpened.
"You're basing all that on what—my nerves?"
Lucas responded with a serious tone,
"No. I can read people. I can tell who's cut out for this and who's not."
Maya gave him a cold look.
"So you're that shallow, huh? Well, now I know exactly what Coach meant."
"What do you mean?"
She gave a bitter smile.
"That I've been underestimating myself. If you don't want to train with me, fine. We can practice separately."
Lucas laughed arrogantly.
"From what I've seen, you might as well skip practice. I'll see you at the competition—and beat you then."
Maya smiled calmly.
"Don't be so sure. My grandmother used to say, people who are too confident never know how to get up once they fall."
Lucas smirked.
"I've never fallen."
With a glint in her eye, Maya whispered,
"Then be ready."
He raised an eyebrow.
"You think you can beat me?"
"Anything's possible."
Lucas scoffed and walked past her. Maya watched him leave and thought to herself:
He's so arrogant… I didn't expect him to be this way. But Coach was right. I have to believe in myself. If I keep training, I can beat him.
The days passed. Maya trained harder than ever. Lutz jumps, complex spins, intricate sequences—she repeated them over and over. Even her coach was amazed by her progress. From his office window, Lian watched her practice with a smile of approval.
"I was right. She was the right choice."
A week before the competition, Lucas returned to Silver House. Seeing Maya's routine left him momentarily speechless. After her performance, he walked up to her, half-impressed.
"Not bad. You've definitely improved."
But Maya didn't even glance at him as she packed her things and left. Lucas stared after her, surprised.
"She didn't even respond… wow. She's something else."
At that moment, Lian appeared beside him.
"Lucas. It's been a while. I thought you'd be training harder. Or are you not taking this competition seriously?"
Lucas replied,
"Of course I am, Coach. I just hadn't seen anyone worth considering a rival—until today."
Lian raised an eyebrow.
"Then be careful. That girl you saw today? She's earned my attention through pure hard work."
Lucas hesitated for a moment.
"I saw her… but she's still not on my level."
Lian smiled faintly.
"We'll see. This year, your opponents are Olympic-caliber. Don't get too cocky."
Lucas said confidently,
"I've medaled in the last three Winter Olympics. You really think anyone here is a threat to me?"
Lian's smile deepened.
"I once thought like you… but that overconfidence led to my biggest mistake. I don't want you to repeat it."
Lucas stood tall.
"I won't let you down."
Lian patted him on the shoulder and walked away.
Then, competition day arrived.
The arena buzzed with anticipation. All Silver House skaters were dressed in shimmering outfits, ready to deliver the performance of their lives. Maya and Lucas sat side by side on the bench. Lucas tried to lighten the mood with jokes, but Maya ignored him.
Their names were called.
It was time.
Before entering the rink, Maya knelt down and touched the ice with her fingertips, then placed her hand over her heart—her usual ritual. Lian, watching from afar, narrowed his eyes, intrigued.
Lucas, dressed in a dazzling custom-made costume, shot a smug glance at Maya. But she, wearing a simple outfit hand-embroidered by her grandmother, stood calmly at center ice.
The music began.
And they danced.
Both skaters moved with precision, speed, and grace. Their jumps, spins, and sequences were flawlessly executed. Maya was no longer the timid girl from before. Her movements were sharp, elegant, and full of confidence.
Lian watched from behind the railing, fists clenched, eyes gleaming.
Maybe this time… a miracle will happen.
As the final move ended, the arena fell into tense silence. The lights dimmed slightly.
It was time for the vote.
A giant screen lit up at the back of the arena. The faces of the competitors flashed one by one, and vote counts started appearing beside them. A wave of murmurs ran through the Silver House students. Some watched anxiously; others had their eyes shut tight.
Lucas, ever calm, sat confidently, as if his victory was a given. But Maya's anxiety showed in her posture. She gripped her knees and stared at the screen.
From the side, Lian watched quietly, though his fingers tightened around the railing.
Then—Maya and Lucas's photos appeared on the screen.
Everyone held their breath.
The final numbers locked in.
A beat of silence.
Then Maya jumped to her feet, shouting in joy.
"I can't believe it… I did it! I won!"
Lucas, who hadn't even bothered to check the screen, looked at her in shock. Then slowly turned his gaze to the display—and froze.
Maya had won.
By a single vote.
His eyes widened. He looked around, at the students… at Lian.
Lian smiled, placing a hand on his forehead and exhaling in relief.
He had made the right choice.
After the competition, a staff member stepped forward and addressed the crowd:
"Alright, the winners have been decided. But those who didn't make it—don't worry. Next week, we're holding another round. This time, only five will be chosen. Then, in one month, those five will compete with today's winners to form the final pairs for the Grand Showcase."
Excited chatter filled the arena. Some students looked hopeful, others anxious. Everyone returned to the dorms—except for Lucas, who silently followed Lian into his office.
"Mister Victor, this wasn't fair," Lucas said, his voice barely hiding his frustration.
Lian looked up, calm.
"What exactly wasn't fair?"
"The students don't understand judging. How can you trust their votes?"
Lian held his gaze.
"You're saying this… because you lost?"
Lucas scowled.
"No! But you're a coach. You know that girl's an amateur. You think she really did better than me?"
Lian took a sip of his coffee.
"You voted too, didn't you? So you don't even trust your own judgment?"
Lucas faltered. Words failed him.
"The voting's done," Lian said coolly. "There's no changing it. If you want redemption—prove yourself next week."
Lucas clenched his fists.
"But Coach—"
"I've got things to do," Lian said, standing. "We'll talk later."
He walked out before Lucas could say another word.
Lucas was left alone. Fury flashed in his eyes as he muttered,
"Fine. I'll show you all…"