All Chapters of Fragments on Ice: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Elias stared at the white ceiling tiles, counting the little holes in each one for the third time. The hospital room smelled like antiseptic and stale flowers from the bouquet Elara had brought. His left arm throbbed under the heavy cast, a constant dull reminder of how one bad landing could shatter months of work. The pain meds made everything feel fuzzy around the edges, but they couldn’t touch the heavy weight sitting on his chest.“You’re doing that thing again,” Elara said from the chair beside his bed. She was flipping through a gossip magazine she’d stolen from the waiting room, legs crossed. “Staring at the ceiling like it personally insulted your triple axel.”Elias let out a weak laugh that turned into a wince. “It kind of did. I keep seeing the moment I took off. My edge was wrong. I knew it the second I left the ice, but my brain just… froze.”Damon, leaning against the window with his arms crossed, spoke up. “You were distracted. Happens to everyone.” His tone was casual,

The next morning, Elias woke up to the sound of his name being screamed downstairs. The voice was sharp, panicked, and unmistakably Elara’s. Before he could even sit up, the door to his room burst open. Elara pushed inside, breathing hard, her eyes wide with relief when she saw him stretching sleepily in bed.“Why are you screaming this early, Lara?” Elias grumbled, slumping back against the pillows and reaching lazily with his good hand for his phone on the nightstand.Elara beat him to it. She snatched the phone away and held it behind her back, smiling nervously. “Don’t check your phone for now.”Elias blinked, confusion cutting through the morning fog. “What? Why?”Before Elara could answer, the door opened wider. Dave pushed in with Peter right beside him. Both of his dads looked worried, their faces tight with that careful parental expression they wore when something bad had happened.Elias stared at them, now fully awake and suspicious. “What’s going on?”Dave sat on the edge o

There was a knock on the door before it was pushed open. Damon walked in from the hallway, carrying a small bag of takeout and looking like he’d come straight from work. His eyes immediately found Elias, who was so focused on the movie playing on the TV that he didn’t notice him at first. The room was dim, curtains half-drawn, the only light coming from the screen and a small lamp on the side table.“Eli,” Damon called softly.Elias turned his head, blinking out of the movie haze. “Hi,” he said, managing a small smile. His casted arm rested awkwardly on a pillow beside him.Damon closed the door behind him and crossed the room, taking a seat on the edge of the bed beside Elias. “I saw the video,” he said without preamble, voice low but serious. “The one with the club kiss and the fall. Are you alright?”Elias shrugged with his good shoulder, trying to play it down even though his stomach still twisted every time he thought about it. “I think I will be. My parents are trying to take th

“Do you miss me, baby?”Jax stumbled back in disbelief, nearly tripping over his own feet. “Ethan,” he hissed, voice low and panicked. “What the fuck are you doing here? If my dad sees you, you know what will happen.”Ethan smirked, stepping further into the room and closing the window behind him with a soft click. He looked exactly the same as Jax remembered, tall, confident, that dangerous charm in his eyes that always made Jax’s resolve crumble. “Relax. Uncle isn’t aware that I’m here. I came back to see you… and to be with you. Can’t you see that?”Jax’s heart slammed against his ribs. He always lost control when Ethan was around. The memories flooded back too fast — stolen nights in the garage, frantic hands, the guilt that always followed. “No. You need to go. We shouldn’t be in the same space together anymore. I don’t want anything to do with this.”But his body was already betraying him. Heat pooled low in his stomach as Ethan stepped closer, that familiar smirk deepening. Eth

Elias sat on his bed, back against the headboard, legs stretched out in front of him. His phone screen glowed in the dim room as he scrolled through old competition footage, figure skaters who had won qualifiers in previous years, their flawless programs, the way they owned the ice like it belonged to them alone. Every clean triple axel, every centered spin, every confident landing felt like a knife twisting in his chest. His casted arm rested heavily on a pillow beside him, a constant, ugly reminder of how quickly everything could break.He had refused to open the door when his dads knocked earlier. He was still fuming, the argument from downstairs replaying in his head on loop. I don’t want you in that rink until further notice. Peter’s words had cut deep. Elias knew they were worried, but the idea of being benched, of watching qualifiers from the sidelines, made him feel small and useless.He played one of the videos, turning the volume low. A skater from two years ago launched int