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#like. wille needs help and support. but simon isn't the person to give that to him. he's dealing with a lot too
shimmerluna · 2 months
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i'm really not mad about how they ended it with wilmon tbh
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iffyswriting · 4 years
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ICE 2
With my forehead pressed against the wheel of my car, I took three big inhales each one for different unrelenting stresses.
Unwinding after my day made it easier to deal with going inside. Swiping up my phone I checked the time, knowing Daddy was probably waiting up for me.
11:12.
Getting to all my courage, I finally got out of my car and went inside my home, my father being exactly where I expected.
"Where you been?" He asked looking just as worn as me, his body limp in his big green reclining chair.
"I told you, I had practice. " I replied tiredly, dropping my keys into their porcelain pot.
"Janelle-"
"I already know what you're going to say and my legs hurt. Can talk in the morning?" He stared momentarily before waving me off, making my shoulders slump in relief. Walking towards the stairs, he cleared his throat making me turn around.
"You not gon' tell me good night?" Rolling my eyes with a tiny smile, I walked back over and placed a kiss to his cheek telling him I loved him. I walked down the stairs to the basement taking in my space.
Bouncing onto my bed I slid off my shoes my feet aching horribly. I  checked out the heels of my feet sighing at the bruises that lined them. Red and purple, red and purple as usual. I unscrewed the top off of my Vapo rub and swiped it onto my soles, letting it soothe my pain.
Flipping out my phone, I scrolled through it, pulling up some music for me to listen too.
SZA softly poured out of my speaker, Broken Clock's hypnotic beat floating into my ears as I laid down fully, curling up in my covers.I turned my music up a bit, letting it relax me further. I was so sleepy but my eyes wouldn't shut as I looked up at my ceiling tracing shapes with my eyes into my popcorn ceiling.
"I have to be in this next competition," I told my coach, Simone. We either practiced early in the morning or late in the afternoon, to combat with both our schedules.
"What competition?"
"The one at the end of this month," I said in a duh tone. "I know you know about it. "
"And you know I'm going to be in it." She stood still before speaking.
"Do you think you're ready for it?"
"Of course I do!"
"Janelle, they not only judge off of skill but presentation and-" She started off looking everywhere else but at me and I tightened my jaw, my blood beginning to pump faster.
"I can get enough money for a decent costume."
"Can you?"
"I don't pay you to fucking degrade me, Simone." I spoke angrily sitting down on the bench stretching the shoestrings of my skates, tying them up tight.
"You barely pay me at all." I scoffed, snatching my guards off keeping my eyes on the other side of the stands.
"Then quit." She sighed her eyes softening as she looked me over, sitting down next to me.
"You know you'll have to tighten up."
"I will!"
"So that triple axel will be together by then?"
"Yes."
Hours passed and everything stayed the same.
Even with all my trying, all my attempts-I kept falling.  Hitting that ice felt like I was hitting a knife and I was repeatedly getting up just to stab myself all over again.
After my seemingly 100th try, I skated back to the bleachers needing to sit down and breathe. I gripped my seat trying to force the lump in my throat all the way back down, biting back any tears that blurred my vision.
"And you think you're ready." She said smartly, making my stomach twist into more knots.
"I am!"
"But you can't get this crucial part of you're routine together and you wanna throw yourself into an even harder competition!"
"I can do it sometimes!"
"Sometimes isn't guaranteed!"
"It's enough for me to keep going!"
"You're supposed to believe in me!"
"I'll believe when you try harder."
"All I fucking do is try!"
"Okay, Janelle." She brushed her hair back from her forehead and I counted each wrinkle, trying to focus on something else other than my burning anger.
"I think we're done for the day."
"Simone."
"We'll try again tomorrow." She spoke, set in her words. I didn't want to stop her because, at this point, I needed some space away from her.
It's so fucking frustrating.
I keep failing and failing and failing, yet I'm always expected to get back on my feet unscathed and ready for more action. I'm not this resilient person I'm putting on to be and it's becoming harder and harder each day to pretend I am.
Why can't I get it right?
I sniffle softly, my throat becoming tighter and tighter as the minutes ticked on mocking me.
"You not getting on the ice, today, Icey?"
I look back at the deep soothing voice, matching it to a handsome face.
A really handsome face.
He was much taller than me and leaned against the railing of the steps, his hands stuffed into his jeans pockets. He was clearly freezing, goosebumps running up the side of his arm. I'd become used to the cold, so much it was like a second kind of blanket.
His skin was stark against all the white that surrounded us, a dark brown that reminded me of hot cocoa- the juxtaposition being a beautiful contrast.
"What'd you call me?"
"Icey. I don't know your name, so I just made up a lil something." He paused before licking his bottom lip. "Hope you don't mind."
"I don't. What was your question?"
"Are you not going to get on the ice today?"
"I'm not feeling it right now."
"Damn, I was hoping to watch you." He sounded genuinely disappointed and I was a little shook, starting to chew on my bottom lip.
"You watch me all the time?"
"Not all the time-"He said quickly, kind of flustered, "I just like the way you move and the sounds- I guess you do your thing or whatever." He finished off, studying my features sheepishly.
"I don't know if you're trying to be nice-"
"I'm being honest." Chuckling, I couldn't help but shake my head at him.
"Well, thank you for that. That's the first compliment I've heard about my skating in years."
"You can't be serious."
"I am."
"If I could get out there and fucking hurl myself across a block of ice every day, everyone would see it and everyone would be respectin' me and my talent."
"You're making it sound so insanely impossible."
"Not everyone can do it. " He paused again slickly starting to smirk. "Not everyone can do it the way you do."
"Stop hyping me up, stranger."
"Amir." He said quickly, his name becoming locked into my head.
"Stop hyping me up then, Amir."
"Well Stranger-"
"Janelle." I said making him let out a breathy laugh.
"Well, Janelle- I'd love it if you tried again."
"I don't know."
"I think your discrediting yourself too much. I know your coach yells at you about how you fuck up on this or mess up on that but- you still look breath-taking. Like a real-life figurine but with passion and grace."
I blinked unsure of what to say or how to feel.  Standing up straight, I leaned on the rail and gave him a small smile.
"Okay, I'll give it another go. Maybe your seeing something I don't."
I stretched to touch my toes then put my arms outward, my pose before I began.
Starting off slowly, I did an easy figure eight, looping in a circle.
I was in the air for a couple of seconds before landing on my feet, my arms in the air as I kept my balance. I couldn't dwell long in my excitement as I launched into a toe loop, spinning the exact way I should.
His straight white teeth were on display as I stood still finished with my performance. He clapped loudly, whistling too as my own grin grew wide on my face.
"I knew you could do it!" He yelled, His support making my heart thump harder in my chest as I bounced up and down in place.
"I don't know what you did but-"
"I didn't do anything that was all you!"
He gave me another thumbs up from the door and then turns on his heels leaving me alone in the great big space.
I didn't know what to think, or how to feel.
Well, I felt good- confident even.
I started to skate again doing the triple axel once more and I wish Simone was here to see it.
See that I could do it.
He made me think about why I loved skating so much, why I had to keep this dream alive.
When I was younger, I used to spend a lot of time at my Grandma's house.
I didn't realize at the time it was because my father was unstable and he struggled to make things better for our little family.
At GiGi's house you could never expect but so many channels but on satellite, there was this one channel where figure skating was played regularly.
Little Janelle was captivated- it was the only thing that could keep me quiet because it was so beautiful and pristine. Princesses dancing on my screen, twirling on the ice in their gorgeous costumes and slicked up hair-dos.
None of these girls looked like me and I wanted to be one of them. I wanted to become someone
I expected my daddy to treat my dream as unrealistic but I didn't expect him to be as dismissive of it as he was.
When you're little you think that you can do anything and when you're supported in that, you keep aiming for stars beyond your reach.
My dad never had that philosophy. Aim for easy goals makes failure and heartache, not an option, so life goes smoother and you feel more settled.
I told him I wanted to be an Ice Skater and he told me I could clean the ice. I'd have an even better chance of working at the concessions.
You can only teach what you know, so I couldn't even be mad.
No matter what- I have to skate. I don't know if we've all got our destiny determined for us before we're born but I know that this one thing, I was always meant to do.
I know it's just a stupid sport but it's my passion and when you're so passionate about something you're willing to put your heart on the line consistently to see it through, you can't just abandon it when shit hits the fan.
Even when I fuck up, it's like I did it. I got a chance to fly even for seconds all on my own and when I come back down from my high still standing, it's a rush I refuse to let go of. When I succeed it only gives me more reassurance to keep going, never stop because there's a chance you're going to make it and people are going to know your name.
So no matter the circumstances, I gotta push as far as this skating shit will take me.
Because its the closet thing to a dream, I've ever wanted to be real.
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@fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @chaneajoyyy @bakarilennox @domdollass
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