เข้าสู่ระบบAnthony's POVThe equipment room was narrow and smelled like rubber and cold metal. Vera let the door close behind them. She stood with her arms at her sides and waited.Anthony leaned against the storage shelf behind him. He looked at the floor for a moment. Then he looked at her."I have a degenerative eye condition," he said. "Keratoconus. It affects the shape of the cornea. On good days my vision is near normal. On bad days the left eye is significantly impaired and my depth perception drops."He said it the way he had learned to say it. Flat and factual. Clinical enough to keep the vulnerability out of it.Vera's face did not change. "How long?""Diagnosed four years ago. Managed with lenses. The degeneration has been slow but it's progressing.""Who knows?""Samantha. Our previous coach, Cole, was informed before we began training." He paused. "The federation has documentation. It was disclosed when I renewed my competition license."Vera was quiet for a moment. "Today is a bad
Anthony's POVAnthony knew before he got to the rink.He knew the way he always knew, not from a single symptom but from the combination of them arriving together. The slight drag on his left visual field when he woke up. The way the bathroom light had felt too sharp and too soft at the same time. The few extra seconds it had taken his eyes to settle on his own reflection.Bad day.He had stood at the bathroom mirror for a long moment and done the thing he always did on bad days. He catalogued what he had. Right eye was clearer than the left. Center vision was workable. Periphery on the left was unreliable. Depth perception would be slightly off, manageable on flat ground, less manageable at speed with another person's body weight in his hands.He had gone to the rink anyway.This was not a decision he examined. It was simply what he did. The qualifier was in eleven days. They were in the middle of the most demanding training block of the program. There was no version of today where
Anthony's POVDerek looked at him for a moment, then wrote something on his notepad."One more question on a different topic," Derek said, shifting his eyes to both of them. "Your program this season is titled 'Found.' There's been a lot of speculation about the narrative. Some people are saying it's autobiographical. Is there truth to that?"Samantha spoke before Anthony could. "Every program has a personal element," she said. "That's what makes skating worth watching. We put ourselves into the work. That's all I'll say about it."Derek smiled. "Fair enough."The bell rang.He stood, shook their hands, and moved on.Samantha exhaled slowly through her nose.Anthony said nothing. He poured himself a glass of water from the table and drank half of it."You did fine," she said."I know," he said."The Celeste question was a trap.""I know that too."She looked at him. His eyes were forward, watching the next journalist settle into the chair across from them. His jaw was still tight. He
Anthony's POVThe hotel ballroom had been divided into twelve interview stations.Each one had a small round table, two chairs, a branded backdrop, and a ring light that made everyone look slightly unreal. Samantha had been to press events before, but nothing at this scale. This was the Grand Prix media circuit, and it moved like a machine. Every fifteen minutes a bell sounded and the journalists rotated to the next pair. Smile, answer, deflect, repeat.She had been coached on it by Isaac the night before."Keep it warm," he had said. "You're likable. Use that. If they ask about the lawsuit, you say Anthony was fully cleared and you're focused on the competition. If they ask about Celeste, same answer. If they ask about Logan, you didn't hear the question.""And if they ask about Anthony's health?" she had said.Isaac had looked at her. "They won't ask that directly. But if something close comes up, you redirect to the program. Talk about the program."She had nodded. She had gone ho
The music started and Samantha stopped thinking.That was the goal, anyway. That was what six a.m. training for three consecutive days was supposed to produce. Muscle memory deep enough to silence the brain. Body knowledge so automatic that there was nothing left to do but feel.Except she was thinking. She was thinking about her left shoulder, about the entry angle on the first combination jump, about whether her free leg was fully extended on the back outside edge. She was thinking about Vera standing at the boards with her arms crossed and her eyes moving over everything like a scanner.She was thinking too much and she knew it.They moved through the first movement of the program in parallel, the choreography keeping them apart, two figures sharing ice without sharing space. That part was easier. Distance was something both of them understood.The music shifted at the two minute mark. The key change Vera had described in the conference room. The moment the program stopped being a
Anthony's POVThe conference room on the second floor of Westview Arena was not built for comfort.It had fluorescent lights that buzzed faintly if the room was quiet enough, a folding table that was slightly uneven on one leg, and four chairs that all wobbled in different directions. Someone had taped a motivational poster to the wall years ago and never taken it down. The corner was peeling.Anthony sat in the chair closest to the door.He didn't know why he always chose that seat. He had never examined it closely enough to find out.Samantha was beside him, her jacket still on, her hands wrapped around a paper cup of coffee that had gone cold ten minutes ago. She was looking at the blank whiteboard at the front of the room. Not thinking about the whiteboard. Just giving her eyes somewhere to go.Isaac was near the back, scrolling through something on his phone. Vera had asked him to be present. Anthony hadn't asked why.Vera came in at exactly the time she had said she would. She s
Anthony’s POV “Isaac…”“Don’t even try to deny it. I can hear it in your voice. The great Anthony Vale… rattled.” He whistled low. “Now this, I’ve got to see.”I sighed. I didn’t respond. One thing I was glad about was the fact that Isaac was not in the training camp with them, because he would ha
Anthony’s POV He had to be fucking joking. We we’re not student athletes for Christ’s sake. “Homework?” I repeated, just to make sure I’d heard him right.“Yes.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out two small notecards, holding them up like they were golden tickets to hell. “By tonight’s bonf
Samantha’s POV “You idiot!” The words ripped out of me as I shoved him, harder than I intended. He toppled back with a grunt, surprise flickering across his face before he caught himself on his elbows. My legs felt shaky as I scrambled to my feet, air tearing in and out of my lungs. “You scared t
Anthony’s POVThe night air was crisp, cool enough that the flames licking at the dark sky felt like a warm shield. The bonfire snapped and hissed, the glow painting everything in hues of gold and orange. I shifted in my seat, the rough wood of the log creaking beneath me. Cole sat across from us,





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