A/N This piece has nothing to do with the title whatsoever. At least I don't think so. It was sort of the first thing that bounced into my mind. It's been a long time since I've posted a new story. I got inspiration for this one from my cousin sister, Gabrielle, so plenty thanks to her. Oh, and in this one, I made Kelly kind of a nice person just because I'm basing her character off my best friend Kelly.

One more thing. Those of you who read my "A Part of Us" about Dramione, it's continuing. I know it's been a long time and the past readers have definitely already given up on it, but if you haven't read it yet, please do. It's only until a very short of chapter five but I do hope you'll check it out whenever you feel like it.

Well, enjoy reading...

Disclaimer Haven't been writing this for a while now. So, you know, the usual stuff...too bad I don't own Jesse/Hector de Silva...would loved to but don't. And Susannah Simon plus all the other character familiar to your eyes. I think that's about it.

Have a Nice 'Trip'!

'Hey, you've reach Suze & Nate. We're not here right now so you know what to do after the beep...-beep- the answering machine went off immediately on my bedside table. This is the time of the day that I hate most : waking up on a Monday. I'm really not the early-bird-catches-the-worm type of girl. I'm the what's-wrong-with-staying-in-bed-for-a-few-more-minutes-if-there's-no-rush-or-even-when-there-is-rush that type. Yeah, sort of like that. You get the picture.

'Suze, it's time to wake up!' a feminine voice could be heard through the speaker. I groaned and flipped over my king-size bed, settling down into a new position. I really didn't want to wake up today. Well, at least that's what's happening everyday. It's not that I don't like my life. It's just that I slept really late last night since I have rehearsals with Nate for the upcoming Ice Gala in February throughout the whole January. It started last Monday. The rehearsals I mean. But we missed the first three days due to the Four Continent in Brazil (an international skating competition) and we had extra practice with the three coaches there (Margaret, Francis & Cassandra) till very late.

'Suze...wake up already.' the rough voice said again.

'But...argh, just five more minutes!' I responded sleepily and pulled the sheets above my head and covered my ears, attempting to shut out her maximize voice. This is really unfair. How does she get up so early everyday when she, too, had to stay up late and make sure that everyone did their job properly? Just as late or maybe later than us too? But I guess that's her job.

'No. We have lots to do today. And my machine's time's running out in ten seconds. Do you want me to get Dole?' but this is no fair. That's blackmail! The only people I'm afraid of dealing with in hard times like these are my dad, stepdad, Jake, Nate and, most of all, Dole. Just because he can really annoy the hell out of you. There was once he babbled into the machine for what seemed to be centuries (45 minutes actually) none stop and I can't even close my eyes for another second.

'Okay, okay. I'm up.' I flipped away the sheets and pressed loud speaker on the phone while getting off the bed. Going into the bathroom which is like ten feet away, I squished out some toothpaste from the tube onto the toothbrush and started brushing my teeth.

'First off, we'll go to your school. After the fumble bumble there, we'll meet your new coach in Riverbay (a studio not far away from the school). Then there'll be the two fitting sessions in Fever on Ice. Gabbana is looking forward to see you there. After all the fuss uptown, y'all would be heading downtown for rehearsals at about, say,

eight-thirty after dinner. We'll be there in ten. That's about all. Bye...'

'Later...' I said while I washed the facial foam off my face. The call ended with a beep. I took out a piece of cotton from the small plastic holder and dropped some liquid toner on it. After applying it on my whole face, I got onto the eye moisturizer to lessen to black ring below my eyes.

I walked out into the attached 3 meter walk-in wardrobe and took out my favorite practice gear and put it on. Noises could already be heard from next door. Nate's bathroom was only next to the wardrobe so louder noises made could be heard slightly.

After I brushed my hair, I took my cellphone and stuffed it into my sweater pocket. Closing the door behind me, I went to knock on Nate's door not far away from mine. 'I'm ready. Going down now, okay?' and I left without waiting for a respond. It's just to let him know that he should be coming down soon.

I rushed down the stairs and went straight into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, I took out a carton of milk and poured out a little of it's content in a glass from the cupboard. I gulped it down quickly and placed the carton back into the fridge. Before closing the fridge, I grabbed a piece of ham, wrapping it in a lettuce and gobbled it down.

A horn sounded loudly from outside the house. I looked out the kitchen window, that gave a perfect view of the front gate, even when I knew who was there. A black MVP came into view. It was still a little dark but I could still see from this distance. Didn't I tell them not to horn in the early morning? I so would get a warning letter from the police or something any day soon.

'Nate? Nathan!' I yelled up the stairs after I walked out of the kitchen. 'Time to go!'

'Coming!' and sure enough, a moment later, rushy footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs. Grabbing my black & white Transpack Bag, I threw it onto my thin shoulder and opened the door at the end of the hallway.

'What took you so long...? Do you want to be late for our very first day?!' we—Nate and I—just transfered to this Rennet Academy very far away from the States. The applications we sent in were accepted immediately with the principal's personal visit of taking us the letter.

Well, that isn't all very surprising. Considering that we are the Best Pairing of the Year for twelves in a roll and had won five years in a row at the World Junior Championships in our solos. Besides that, we've got quite an amount of qualifications as pairs in the public too.

We had been taking ballet plus skating lessons together since the age of five and really have a brilliant collaboration that no one could deny.

I got into the black MVP with tinted windows and Nate came right after me. We always have the six back seats to ourselves: me in front; Nate at the back row. I sat down with a loud thump I zipped my hooded long-sleeve zip-through with contrast colored hood-lining, covering my dark blue sporty tank plus matching double skirts, and started pulling up my my webbed black color stirrup-over-the-boot tights. After that, I pulled my waist-length black curls, colored with a little natural violet highlight, to a sideway ponytail and straighten my fringe. Pulling out my cosm-case, I apply a little lip gloss and some light-shaded blue eye-shadow.

This college we're attending has a famous reputation of it's skaters. Anything on the ice, count them in to be one of the best in the California.

Our manager, Penny, whose our moms' friend for like what? Ages? Had just turned 42 last Tuesday. Which was also when we won the Four Continent. Walking up the cement slope towards the school, others looked at us with our heavy bags and our endless garment bags hung on the portable clothes-hanger, which was about the length of Eiffel Tower placed horizontally. Just kidding. But sort of like that.

We're staying in the dormitory that the school provided as each student is required to stay there as a convenient for their studies.

'First off, we have to get your stuff into your dorm rooms. Then we'll have to get hold of your principle.' Penny said to us whilst looking at the planner covered in her sloppy handwriting and was full of Stickies plus Post-its sticking out of it in her hand which she consider as 'The Bible'.

She walked behind us as Scott, Penny's assistant that takes care of everything from our blade maintenance to our form entries to competitions which is just as important in another way, slowly pushed the garment bags up the easy slope. Scott is just as important to us as Penny is. We'll be nowhere without them.

'Isn't more like us than we?' Nate said in a teasing tone. He always like to tease Penny for no apparent reason. It's like one day without teasing her, he would die of boredom or something.

'You have to become one with your manager or you'll go nowhere near the gold stuff, ya get me young man?' she said knowingly. I nudge Nate's stomach with my elbow.

'Look...' there are a crowd around the arena whispering loudly. This is the competition rink and not the practice arena. It was only lined simply with glass windows. If you're prepared to sell your moves to your opponents, this is the perfect spot that you'll be practicing.

There are five ladies, probably a couple of years older than me (which makes them at Nathan's age), in the rink showing off their jumps which was apparently not that good for our international-level skating. They won't even be able to get pas preliminary. Let alone win in the competition.

But I have to admit, their five sets of different routine that their trying to perfect looks kindda familiar. As if reading my mind, 'Suze, don't you think that looks kindda familiar? I think you've done it before.' there where so many routines we've done, used or not used, since our first competition at the age of ten. The first routine we've ever been taught was when we were six. Until now, we've perhaps performed more than thousands of routines. Let alone practice.

'You placed with it at 2000, 2002, 2003, 2004 and 2006 U.S. Junior Ladies' Championships.' Scott answered. Did I mention that he is also our choreographer? Normally, skaters only have one most important person in their unpredictably shaky career of pro-skating. And that is their coach.

But for me and Nathan, we have Stephanie Knightly A.K.A. Penny (the manager : scheduling the whole jumble of competitions lessons, searching for annoyingly annoying suppliers and impressing the un-impressable press), Scott Darwin (Assistant-of-Everything/our supreme choreographer : sometimes he also is our deep-down-personal consultant), Samantha Norman & Mack Danielle (designer hairstylist make-up-list attire-checkers : fuss around about how we just have to look drop-dead-gorgeous), Dole Jackson (The famous 'DJ'-on-ice : has everything to do with anything about our fantastic music pieces), Jason Jerkins A.K.A. JJ the Jerk—only when we're kidding around—(nutrient-gist vitamin-gist fitness coach : responsible of panicking over how camera-and-newspaper-covers-friendly we are) and last but not least, each other (skate-partners best of friends classmates house-mates oh, and did I mention? Skating partners of whom we could not participate in a single doubles' competition if lack thereof).

So, you see, it's everyone and anyone but the coach. We change from coaches to coaches wherever we go. Same with this case. After finishing my three-year-diploma in advancement of sociology, I'm through with this coach that I'm just about to get. However awesome they can get, their not keepers. Never. Not that it's their fault that their just not the right one that we want to be stuck with the rest of our pro-skating career, but it's just we sometimes, we can't stand the style they convey their coaching.

Just after that thought of mine, one of the girl failed to nail the butterfly spin right after the triple-Lutzes and spin off her balance limit, landing hard on her bottom. I felt so insulted, watching a few amateurs showing off their far-from-perfected routines. Which just happen to be mine.

'Suze, chill...you can't expect everyone to be as perfect as you are.' Nate said in a low voice, knowing the perfection-freak me all too well to see what's coming.

'Oh no. Not this time.' I said, glaring at the girl that was being helped up by the other four girls that had 'ran' to her side right after she fell.

I walked there, one hand clasping the strap of my bag and the other in my at the edge of my hip with the get-the-hell-out-of-my-way-or-I'll-shove-your-head-up-your-ass expression plastered on my face. I slowly walked down the stairs in between the rolls of seats with Nate, Penny and Scott (who left the garment bags completely unattended) hurrying down behind me, afraid that I would do something unwise.

This is, afterall, quite a closed region deep (not exactly, considering that it's so open to the ocean) in California and you certainly can't expect anyone to know me here. Nate came over and took my bag from me after passing his to Penny, who is close behind him, and I let him take it. He's known me since the day I was born and certainly know what I'm about to do right now. Scott was already making his way to the radio-system.

I was a little of three steps away from the last fleet of stairs and just two panels away from the entrance when I unzipped my hooded long-sleeve, throwing it back where Penny caught it just in time.

I found an empty space on the bench right in front of the entrance where it is normally reserved for the skater's coach. Which was quite empty but was just left that way out of the habit that goes way back in the history of skating competitions. I sat down, reaching out and grabbed the skates Nate was handing over to me as he stood beside where I sat. People started looking this way as Nate's height was blocking the view of the people in the back rows. The five skaters in the rink was too busy examining whether the skater that fell just now was hurt in any way. They were closed to the entrance.

Two students that sat a little further off the same bench noticed that I was putting on my skates and came over to see what was happening. Penny stood in their way immediately.

I waved to dismiss Penny's attempt of stopping the two students that seem the same age as I am without even looking up. Nate has already finish with the skate-lace of my other skate. I stood up and walked naturally towards the entrance of the rink, which was just enough for two to slip in hand-in-hand as the students approached me. The guy was way taller than me, but was still a little shorter than Nate, and the girl, who was a little shorter than me, stood in my way as I straighten my sleeveless sporty tank. That was the first time that I looked at them since they started walking towards our direction.

'The rink is closed to outsiders. Do you have a skater's pass?' the girl in blonde spoke in a squeaky voice. Squeaky, but nonetheless, it was the kind that most guys would consider angelic and cute. I just don't get what it is with all the hot guys with their something of the squeaky sort of voice. Personally. I think it's a disgrace that girls even speak that way.

So not my style.

Even if my voice is not the kind of tom-boyish deep and it was very much like a girly girl's, it came way smoother than hers did. Besides, her overly powdered face, eyes lined thick with the black eyeliner, her hair swirling at the end of her ponytail a little too obvious that maybe more than a can of hairspray was used to make it stay that way. Whereas my hair is 100 natural curl and wavy. Not that I'm boasting. I'm just saying that you're hair looks it's best when it is in it's most natural form. Even sometimes when you wake up in the morning, finding your hair sticking out at one end in a very ridiculous way, bare with it. It smoothen over the Sun shortly after your shower. If you even take one in the morning.

'I will be having one soon enough.' I answered, annoyed by the held-back.

'Whatever...that's what they all say...' she answered, a streak of dislike flickering through her fake blueish eyes. As in she wore colored contact lens, not literally as in her eyes are fake or something. Besides her features presented in a way too excessive to my liking, she was also overly dressed. Sleeveless black denim jacket, black tube-top, a black and white striped denim mini-skirt at the length right at the edge of her butt, fishnet black tights and skates decorated with rhinestones shining a little too brightly. My only comment is that this girl here, has a very excessive taste in her dressings.

'Outta my way.' I said coldly with no expression. Penny stood at the side, dialing into her cellphone intensely as she lean against the railing. Nate was clearing up my shoes and zipping up my Transpack bag. He really is a very good guy. Whoever gets him as her boyfriend can actually be considered as the most luckiest girl ever found in the whole universe.

'Oh, puh-leeze don't give me that tone.' she answered back immediately with a hint of mocking coldness.

'FYI...there are only twenty skaters in this school, of course including us both, that has access to this rink. And I know that you're definitely not one of them...' the guy beside her said with a smirk. My fists were shaking due to the urge of mine, wanting to wipe that irritating smirk off his face that is not even close to cool as he thought it was. Let alone hot.

'Oh yeah?' Nate said, backing me up.

'Yeah...' he said immediately without hesitation as he noticed Nate for the first time. The moment the blonde barbie laid eyes on Nate, I just knew the look on her face so obviously showing the what-the-hell-is-a-guy-like-that-doing-with-her?! annoyance with an eyebrow raised, checking Nate out. Well, who wouldn't be. But it just so happens that we are merely at the stage of best friends and brother-sisterly relationship and nothing more than that.

'We'll see about that...' Nate responded coolly, which I think would have cause blondie here drooling down his knees if it was not because of the public-al stares around us. I zoomed pass them, used to balancing myself on my soakers, as they were distracted by Nate.

As I neared the entrance, I kicked off my soakers out of habit and left them lying on the floor. Without pausing, I slipped right through the railing into the rink and started with my normal two-circles around the rink as a warm-up session just to catch up with the climax change and get my skates use to the ice. It had already become an undying habit of mine and Nate's to do that everytime before we start training.

I skated passed them where they stood a few feet away from the entrance, going clockwise, stealing their undivided attention on the fallen skater. Argh...it was just a fall. What's the big deal? What's skating if you don't fall over once or twice every once in a while?! My God. Don't even go out there telling people you're skaters as it would greatly affect their impression as to what skating really is.

They looked at the stranger : me, with o-shaped mouths and wide brown eyes as I skated pass them, inches away from where their skates rested on the ice, picking up speed. While I passed the five ladies, still fussing over the fallen one for the past ten minutes, in my second circle before I start my routine, I said to them softly, 'If you're gonna do it, at least nail it before you skate it out to audience-eyes.'

'Eight verse. Five beats.' I said in a voice louder than my usual tone for Scott's hearing as I completed the two circle at the other side of the entrance. In less than five seconds, Britney Spears' "Toxic" could be heard roaring through the entire stadium. Zooming into the center, I anchored myself at my starting position.

'Hey! Get back here!' the blondie's voice could be hear from across the entrance as she entered the rink. The first beat of the song was marked with my opened hand-swirl and I started the routine that the five skaters was so very familiar with seeing that they spent time watching the video to practice every move of it.

My hands and legs worked itself through the opening of the routine, skating to and fro with the blondie behind me, trying to catch up with my incredible speed. It's really not that I'm boasting, but just after my opening toe loops carving a zick-zack on the ice with the tip of my blades, she was already out of breath.

But it might not be my speed. It might just be her skating muscles that is to be blamed. Or the lack thereof. I did the pointer with my hand as if pulling a trigger, aiming at the ay where the judges was suppose to sit in front of me, as I winked with a wide grin. I just love the icy breeze skating across my cheeks and arms.

After a salchow and an axel thrown in order of the routine, it was almost till the peak of my performance : the triple-Lutzes and butterfly spin solid link. That was what I called it. Just because I really have to land solid on the peak of my blade, ending in a back spin and mark the of it with a half loop, with my hands in a position of a 90 degrees curtsy.

I heard gasping as I completed my final move in a fraction of a second flawlessly. Right after my ending position facing the judges, the blondie finally caught up with me, clasping my arm for support more than to prevent me from leaving, pulling me together in a wobbly swirl that I have quickly balanced myself. Managing to release my arm from her tight grip, I skated out of the rink and landed on my right foot without a pause and continued walking as if it was the most natural thing to do.

Stepping into my soakers that either Nate or Penny had put out in an arranged manner, I took my bags from the bench and walked on as Nate hurried to my side, putting my hooded long-sleeve on me. Then he continued walking beside me, after having completely caught up with my pace in no time.

'Have a nice 'trip'!' I called out with an extended arm to waved goodbye. Soon after, a loud crash was heard followed by a sharp cry that suited a boar better than it suited the blondie while I passed the side of the rink where the five ladies were still standing there, eying me shocked-face-ly through the window as if I've just done the most impossible thing in the world that anyone could imagine.

Right at that moment, I finally allowed myself a satisfied smile of success that I have been suppressing from the second I exit the rink.

A/N How was it? Personally, I really liked it as it is, by far, my longest chapter written. I know that not a lot had happened in this 'month' but still, it was just an opening. Do tell me if I made Suze's character to appear as a little stuck-up and kind of a show-off. So please. Review before you exit the page to carry on looking for some other fanfics to amuse yourself with.

Oh, and just so you know, soakers are the plastic thing that they use to cover the blades with when it's not on ice.