look at the stars | sunsun

three.

The next time they meet is at Nationals at the end of the same year. There is news in the junior skating world that Sunoo has left the United States to come back and train in Korea, but there is no confirmation of it until Sunghoon lays eyes on Sunoo in the waiting area cordoned off for competitors only.

So, the rumors are true.

He isn't nervous, but Sunoo's presence pulls the stakes of the competition higher than before. What will it look like for him if he loses to such a new face in the game? But Sunghoon will win, he has always won. He doesn't plan to let that change.

"Hi!"

Sunghoon is startled out of his reverie by a call from behind him.

"Hi! Remember me? My name is Kim Sunoo!"

Yes, how could I forget?

"Hello," Sunghoon answers, giving a vague wave. "Nice to see you again, hope you've been well."

"Oh, you remember me!" Sunoo is so effusive in manner that Sunghoon has to keep himself from grinning back. "Looks like I'll be skating against you again this time! All the best!"

"That's right, all the best," Sunghoon is mildly affronted that Sunoo doesn't seem to be intimidated by him at all. People usually are, given everything that surrounds him; his reputation, his talent, his level of accomplishment for such a young age.

"Sunoo, stop running off! Come on, we need to warm up now!" Sunoo looks back and waves to another boy calling behind him. "Hurry!"

"I have to go, Jay's yelling!" he laughs. "See you on the ice, Sunghoon!"

Sunoo heads off to warm up before he's dragged away by his friend, leaving Sunghoon alone again. For a long moment he feels an inexplicable pang of something sharp in his heart he can't quite subdue, but he swallows it.

He doesn't need friends to win. There is, in the end, only space for one person in first place.

Sunghoon goes away to the side to stretch on his own. He has to land his triples well today.

"First up, national legend and two-time Junior Worlds gold medalist, Park Sunghoon!"

His routine is set to Isabella's Lullaby, a song from some animation he doesn't have time to watch. As usual, he is flawless. His spins are cleaner than the rotors of a helicopter, drawing beautiful curves in the air. His jumps are just right, no under-rotation, no over-rotation. His step sequences are completely in time.

He grits his teeth when his triple axel combination nears. The jump is by no means new to him, but it's only his second time attempting it under a competition setting. He'd indefinitely benched the jump from competition routines after he'd slipped and earned himself two points off at the last Nationals he competed in, but he'd begun pushing himself to drill that one move after hearing Coach Bang's remark on Sunoo's routine during Junior Worlds.

He wasn't about to lose out, and definitely not to a newbie.

Sunghoon lands the jump by a hair's breadth, and his routine is over. He's satisfied with his performance as he leaves the rink, bowing, waving. He even finds the magnanimity to wish Kim Sunoo good luck as they bump into each other in the corridor, earning an easy smile and an enthusiastic "You did great!" from the other boy.

He settles at one end of the waiting area, in front of one of the screens. Sunoo is the next to skate, and underneath all his bristling resentment he's more than a little curious how the other boy performs.

"Up next will be Kim Sunoo, skating to Counting Stars!"

The first thing Sunghoon notices about Sunoo is how different he is on the ice.

Sunoo out of the rink is an unassuming figure; as bubbly as he is, he doesn't hold that otherworldly aura that draws attention to him like moths to a flame. But as the first notes of his track begin playing from the overhead speakers, Sunghoon can't help but fixate on the widescreen. There's a riveting energy in the gracefulness of the boy's turns and spins that pulls focus to him and him alone.

Triple axel seems to be his signature move. Sunghoon counts off at least two combinations of it throughout the three-minute program. He turns away from the screen quickly as he catches sight of Sunoo returning to the waiting room after his routine, dropping back into the disinterested and mildly lofty expression he usually wore.

Sunoo is crowded by people the moment he enters. His friend from earlier, Jay, along with a bunch of other skaters, some even from the senior division, surround him as soon as he steps in, ruffling his hair, patting his back, offering fist-bumps-

They've never done that for me.

Sunghoon belatedly realizes he doesn't recognize most of the faces there anyway. Apart from ace teammates like Heeseung for whom he made an exception, he didn't much like to socialize with people he found to be as below his calibre. All nameless, faceless skaters who would fall off the charts one by one in the end, anyway.

His internal rumination is interrupted by the short blast of music that signals the announcement of results, and the competitors are ushered out to the bleachers to prepare for the medal presentation.

"In first place in the junior division, with a score of 165.41, Kim Sunoo!"

First place, Kim Sunoo. Sunoo's friends are all around him again, clapping, cheering, shouting his name, nothing but smiles as they push the boy onto the rink to stand on the podium.

"Second place, with a score of 163.99, Park Sunghoon!"

It doesn't register in Sunghoon's head till seconds later. Second place. The people behind him are nudging the frozen boy forward cautiously, as if he's forgotten he needs to take his place on the podium.

Who the hell does Kim Sunoo think he is, is the first vicious thought that rips through his head as he steps onto the ice.

At age 15, Park Sunghoon receives the first silver medal he's ever gotten in his life.

It won't be his last.

─

Sunghoon doesn't express anything outwardly when he gets home; no apologies to his coach, no regret, no anger, no resentment. He's puzzled by his silver, what he counts as a loss, but he of all people knows nothing good comes of talking and talking.

He pushes harder than he ever has before. Triples are old hat, nothing special, quad jumps are his new plaything. Six hours of practice a day, no more than one rest day a week. He brushes aside all offers for breaks from his coach. He has to, he needs to win again.

Sunghoon doesn't know what will become of him without a gold medal around his neck.

He receives news by the spring of the following year that Sunoo has returned to the States to train at his home rink with his old coach. Despite the noncommittal reply he gives, something inside him loosens itself ever so slightly from its chokehold. He relaxes slightly, reassured. He has time to regain his national standard without Sunoo getting in the way.

With Sunoo out of the picture, Sunghoon returns to sweeping first place with ease. He continues practicing. The rink is his second home, he has no space for failure.

Not again.