Breaking the Ice | 엔하이펜 | HEEHOON

17

Sunghoon's own emotions flared, and he snapped, his voice echoing in the empty rink, heart pounding with frustration. "Every blueprint I've given you has brought you to where you are now! I'm not trying to make you look like me!"

The words hung between them, an impassable chasm of misunderstanding and pent-up emotion. Tears contained in Heeseung's eyes as he realized the magnitude of what he had blurted out, while Sunghoon struggled to contain the turmoil brewing within him.

"Oh, would you look at that — looks like it's lunchtime better have a time out, right?" said Jake trying to ease up the tension between the two. "Come on why don't we head up and grab something to eat."

"Take me home, please?" Sunghoon said softly.

"Coach Sunghoon I—" Heeseung blurted out but Jay stopped him to do so "Give him some time, please,"

A heavy weight settled upon Heeseung, and regret clawed at his conscience like a relentless storm. How could he have allowed his emotions to push him into such a reckless act? In that moment, he wished he could reach back in time and slap some sense into him. Shame wrapped around him like a suffocating shroud, a constant reminder of his thoughtless words and actions. This wasn't what he had intended, not at all.

The turmoil of emotions he felt was undeniably human, but it was inhumane to have expressed them with such bitterness and hostility. How could he ever face Sunghoon after what he had done? The tension between them after their afternoon practice had reached a breaking point, resulting in the cancellation of their training. Heeseung returned home, the weight of regret crushing his spirit as he lay on his bed. His gaze fixed on the framed picture of himself and Sunghoon hanging near the window, overlooking the ice lake. Tomorrow loomed as another day of competition, but with the rift that had formed between them, Heeseung couldn't help but wonder what it would be like for tomorrow.

_________________________

Sunghoon sat alone that night, perched on the porch of his house, gazing out into the dimly lit night. His eyes traced the surface of the lake, which threatened to freeze once more in the cold. Thoughts of what he had said to Heeseung consumed his mind, and with each passing moment, he couldn't help but feel the weight of his own selfishness bearing down on him.

He had been so single-mindedly focused on molding Heeseung into the number one skater, the very best among them all, that he hadn't stopped to consider how trapped Heeseung might have felt in his shadow. It was a revelation that struck him like a lightning bolt, a painful realization of the cage he had unintentionally built around his young skater. He had taken Heeseung's potential and used it to his advantage, without understanding the toll it had taken on the budding skater.

In the quiet of the night, Sunghoon contemplated the days and weeks that had passed, recognizing the confinement he had inadvertently imposed. He had never allowed Heeseung the space to discover his own individuality and uniqueness, forgetting that figure skating was meant to be a journey of self-discovery and passion. It was a form of art, after all, one that thrived on each skater's distinct expression and identity. Maybe because of how he felt during those past few months or years of not being able to skate made it feel like he was the one competing through it all, the promise that Heeseung made linger in his mind. "I could be your legs; we could be a dream." It was both against the world – not him or Heeseung against through it all.

He heard a knocking at the door as he turned to see it was his dad, going outside and sitting right next to him. "Are you okay, coach?"

Coach. . . He pursed his lips. He was never in good terms with his Father it was always distant between them but right now in the demeaning silence of the night he wanted some company. "Yeah, I'm - fine, busy day. . ." There was a pause again, but it was only seconds before his father spoke again. "You trained that kid well; better than every coach I'd known."