He holds the edge of the rink with white knuckled hands, just a step away from skates on the rink. He'd been standing there for what felt a second stretched to hours and no one had noticed yet. He closed his eyes and searched downwards into a dark place he had been dangling up above from. Hesitation and anxiety had been building up like a geyser and he knew it. Everyone could see him drowning and he was making a life saver out of denial. He'd been practicing everyday since he lost to JJ yet again, from the morning till night, so why is today any different?
"And it seems that once again the Ice Prince of Canada has come second to Canada's new royalty, Jean Jacquez Leroy! Has he lost his edge? Will Olivier ever stand by Viktor again or is fated to be forced into his retirement?"
Olivier was a fan of flowery language, of long winded metaphors and analogies, but this was too much for his standard internal dialogue. Or too much for him to deal with right now, his internal monologuing was actually much appreciated when he wasn't standing like a goddamn idiot in the ice rink entrance. He tried to put his skates on the ice, but his legs wouldn't move.
He was frozen.
"Move goddamnit!" Olivier said with as much force he could muster, as if maybe yelling at his legs would make them move. "Move, move, move, move, fucking move!" He dropped to the ground and began hitting his legs into submission. If people hadn't noticed before, they did now. And JJ, he's here.
A small crowd had started to gather and people we're concerned asking questions, some whispering with their theories, with their sympathies. He hated them all. He didn't need their god damn pity. He grabbed at the railing and steadied himself up before storming off in the opposite direction. He didn't care where he went as long it was away.
"Olivier!" he felt a hand grab his arm and then suddenly was spun around. JJ was there face tense and determined. "Olivier what's going on?"
It was ridiculous, he was 27 and JJ was 19 and he was supposed to be the mature composed one but… Olivier's face twisted and a strangled noise erupted out of his chest, the geyser pressure finally relieving. JJ's face softened and a pained but knowing smile spread as he pulled Olivier into a hug. The Grand Prix flashed to the fore front of his mind.
"You did great."
"You did great."
"I'm so proud of you, JJ.
"I'm so proud of you, Olivier."