Revived

» a new expedition «

The serrated blades glided across the ice, leaving marks in its tracks. The movements were produced with elegance, each jump expressed competence.

It was her home. Flying high on the great silvery in the icy arena of courage and challenge. She performed so effortlessly, and accompanied by her talent, she easily gained the ability to captivate anyone on the ice. She appeared to have a strong grasp on what she did as a passion, and I looked up to her for that.

She was fierce, daring, dignified.
She never ceases to surprise me.
Just who knew...
Who knew I would meet Quinn Kelly like this.

Before I knew it, my dreams were interrupted by a loud sound, causing my head to suddenly jolt up and smack against the headboard of the bed.

It was a dream?

Realising I wasn't at home, my eyes darted around the unfamiliar room, trying to recall what happened previously. My hand naturally went to cover the injured part of my head.

Where am I..? What was that sound?

It looked like a hotel room; I saw two figures sat at the feet of the bed next to mine. It looked as if there were other people here before, too, as there were other beds at the opposite side of the room that looked like a mess. A mess like me, I suppose.

I scanned the nightstand for my glasses, and quickly fixed them on my face. Focusing my eyes, I spy a girl with knee-long hair at the end of the bed, sat next to a well-dressed looking guy. In their hands, they each held a DS.

But - what was that noise that woke me up? It sounded like a cat falling down the stairs. "Damnit, Maxwell!" Oh. It was the girl, Itzel Lopez. I recognised Maxwell Beaumont who sat next to her. It looked like they were playing against each other on the DS. When my eyes made contact with them again, they noticed my awakening. "You're finally awake," the female snapped.

"Hm.. good morning to you," I replied with a hint of sarcasm.

Maxwell nodded at me, "morning, Ryan."

I exhaled an almost silent sigh of relief when I realised I - in fact - wasn't kidnapped. The short exchange of words between the three of us ended, as their attention was fully drawn towards the screens once again.

"Stop bringing out your legendary Pokémon, it's so cheap," Itzel complained sullenly, and Maxwell smirked in response. I grabbed my phone from the bedside table, regretting to turn it on.

I found some missed calls from my manager, some unexplainable pictures of me with a traffic cone on my head in my camera roll, #QuinnKelly is now trending, news about how I lost at the Grand Pri— wait, what?

'Ryan Moretti experiences a crashing defeat at the Grand Prix. Will she compete in the next season?'

'Quinn Kelly of Ireland steals the podium once again!'

I sighed.

Well, that's how it started. I came last at the Grand Prix finale, my manager dragged me off to the banquet, I drank some champagne, and avoided all human interaction with everyone. I scratched my head, as the beaming light of the sun that pierced through the gaps in the curtains reflected off my brown hair.

Then - how'd I get here? I thought, confused.

"What exactly happened last night?" I dared to ask, afraid of the answer.