[ this was originally going to be a oneshot, but the beginning of the week i tore something in my wrist, on my dominant right hand. it's braced now and i can't do much, i have a physician appt in two days so hopefully ill known the exact cause ! until then the second part is delayed, but because i wanted this posted in january, i'm splitting it into two. the second part will come as soon as i can type w/o feeling like screaming from pain, hopefully in a couple weeks. until then, my tumblr is cheswirl, and i talk abt this a lot there, so you might catch snippets of what ive written of pt 2 so far if you look there ! ]

He takes a breath to steady himself, face counting down the clock on the screen in front of him, behind the board. Everything feels good. His contacts felt great that day. His center of gravity was nice at his core. And his emotions were steady.

Breathe. In and out. You can feel after you win.

The clock ticked out, a sharp whistle sounded from somewhere below, and he propelled himself off the board, letting his middle bend as he transitioned into the inward three-and-a-half somersault.

His hands, outstretched, enter the water before his head, now facing the majority of the crowd, no seat left untouched. He lets his red orbs pop close, and then he's underwater, and the crowd erupts.

Ruby likes to think he did good every time he dives. He likes to think better when his midair form is good. But despite trying for years to listen to the water rising out of the pool, once he's under, he can't tell. He doesn't know. He can think, but until the score comes, it's never definite.

His head bursts from the water and he takes a couple quick breaths before wandering over to the edge of the pool. One hand goes out to snag his shammy from the water and the other to hoist him from the pool, steady ground firmly meeting his feet.

He faintly hears Wallace calling something out, but he honestly couldn't be bothered, so he turns and walks back to the side area, slipping deep into a tub and throwing the cool shammy around his neck.

Ruby sighs in relief at the warmth, and then the grin pops up on his face, and he's out and trekking back to where the rest of his prelim group is waiting. One of them catches his eye and motions toward the scoreboard, where it was panning out the score of the diver that'd gone after him. In doing so, it also revealed the overall list, and Ruby felt himself stiffen upon seeing his score.

Ruby Wells. 407C. 96 PTS.

A hand lightly clasps his shoulder, and he looks over to see one of the older divers from Hungary -What was his name again? Amon? Aron?- smiling down at him. "Good job, kid!"

He steps back to let the hand fall, but returns the easy smile. "Thanks," he tells him, and then he's off to go see Wallace before he blows a fuse at being ignored.

His next dive he takes fifteen seconds early to set up on, moving to the end of the platform and dropping to his knees. It takes nearly all his time to straighten out into his armstand, but he's not looking at the clock this time, despite facing it again. He hears the whistle immediately, but he waits a moment, steadies his breathing.

Wallace will kill him for showing this so early on. But he needs it. He needs to see big numbers, almost like it's his lifeline.

Every seat is filled in the Tokyo aquatics center. He needs to be remembered.

With that in mind, he somersaults off the platform and right into a pike, and he can feel the excitement when he's finished, when he's entering the water and curling into a flip under it, sealing his entry.

When his head breaks surface, it's to the roar of the crowd around him. And he lives for it.

He departs from the water quickly, but takes time in wringing out his shammy, in making his way back to the hottub. Halfway there, the scoreboard lights up, and he looks over to see-

Ah. Yes, he will have no trouble passing the preliminaries now.

He didn't really know where he was, but he didn't care.

All he knew was that the couch cushions felt nice, and the mixed concoction in his hand tasted sweet.

He had expected Wallace to get mad. What he hadn't expected was to nearly be put on lockdown, to almost have to find himself a new coach.

He'd undoubtedly come first that day. And what did he get for it? Nothing good.

It wasn't like he could help himself, though. And Wallace knew this! He knew this and he'd signed up for it when he became Ruby's coach, and yet he got so . . so angry, that afternoon. He didn't understand. Ruby needed to shine. He needed to be in the spotlight. It was a need, an addiction, and one he'd fulfilled the first day of ten metre diving at the olympics.

He was stuck in this tumbling wave of thoughts until another body came and plopped down beside him, making him snap out of it and look up.

A lazy grin was what he was met with. "Yo. You're that hotshot diver from today, aren't you?"

Looking up further made him match with the brightest pair of amber eyes he'd ever seen. He blinked, trying to focus on the words. "Maybe."

The other laughed, leaning back slightly. "No need to be modest. You were the talk of the day. 'Highest score in an olympic preliminary diving event, ever'. Ring any bells?"

Wallace's words came swimming back to him. "And you know why that's not a good thing? Because-"

No. No, he was over it. Or, he was trying to be. So, he leaned back on the armrest, took a casual sip of his drink, and grinned over at the mysterious stranger. "Is that what people are saying?"

The other's smirk grew wider in turn. "Damn right. You stole the show, kiddo. You wouldn't believe all the conversation I had to sit through about it. You're vetted to steal medals from the Chinese, at this point."

"I-" He pauses, backtracking to an earlier point. "I'm not a kid, I'm nineteen," he mutters.

"Hunh?" The other eyes him, tipping his head, wandering down to the drink in his hands. "Still a couple off then, for the States."

"Well how old are you?" he spits, now thoroughly annoyed.

There was that grin again. "Twenty. Legal here, legal back home." At another of Ruby's looks he lets out a loud laugh, waving him off with a free hand. "Don't worry, I'm just messing with you. It doesn't make a difference to me. If you can get away with it, hell, go for it."

That . . was unexpected. And almost unmotivating. Ruby places the drink down on a side table, suddenly feeling more tired than he should. "I actually think I'm done, now."

The other cocks his head again. "Well, you do still have events tomorrow. Or, I assume?"

"Yeah." He nods. "And you?"

A crooked smile appears on the other's face. "Hmm . . let's say, that's a surprise. Okay?"

"What?" He puffs out his cheeks, feeling played. "You won't tell me your event. Even though you seem to know everything about me. How's that fair."

The other laughs, again. "Life's not fair, I suppose. But okay, okay, I'll tell you this." He jabs a thumb up at his face. "I'm from Mexico. Name's-"

"Gold!" A voice suddenly cuts out from across the room.

"Ah, that, yeah," Gold nodded, screwing his face up at the shout. He stands easily, glancing over at the presence making their way toward them. "Gotta go, kid. Or, well . . ya know." He shrugs.

Ruby blinks through all of this, not even phased anymore as a taller girl comes to drag Gold away.

"I'll come see your event, tomorrow!" he calls out, waving goodbye, as he's swept up into the crowd.

Ruby takes about a minute after to whip out his phone and look him up, because screw that, he was not going to sit around and wait to see who this guy was.

It wasn't fairly difficult. Most people weren't named from colors, after all, and the only one from Mexico that fit the standard was the one he'd just met.

Huh.

When he said surprise, he wasn't kidding.

Gold from Mexico was a road cyclist, scheduled for the day-long event on the last day of the games. That was . . interesting.

His phone chimes and he looks to see a message from Wallace. Grimacing, he ignores it to flip his phone off. He'd deal with it tomorrow.

There was a high roof above his head.

The venue was nice. Big. Amazing. Still, there was something nice about diving with nothing but the sky above you. Here, there was no natural light. Here, there was no free-flowing water, like in the bay right outside the building.

Sometimes he felt trapped, in these closed-off arenas. Sometimes.

Now, he was at peace.

Now, he was ten meters up.

Now, as the clock ticked to zero and the whistle sounded below, was the takeoff.

From the middle of the platform, Ruby made a running start, flipped off the edge, and dove for the water below.

A forward three and a half somersaults one twist.

He felt good. His midair form was nice. And this semifinal battle was his.

Then, he straightened out, and his pupils blew.

And he did feel trapped, as the water approached much sooner than he'd anticipated.

Ruby feels his hands collide with the water, but it's off. His feet are tipping forward, legs no longer aligned.

He dips underwater, does his best to curl backwards to match his new positioning.

But it doesn't stop his heart from hammering in his chest. It doesn't stop his head from rising from the water and his mouth from gasping for air, forgetting to breathe before going under.

It doesn't help his scores from being lackluster, the splash on replay as he rises from the pool.

And in this giant venue, surrounded by twenty thousand people, on the biggest stage in the world, he feels so utterly, terribly trapped.

Ruby Wells. 5172B. 66.45 PTS.

You shouldn't have done that.

Shut up.

One of your highest-scoring dives and you absolutely aced it in the prelims. But now what?

You'll see.

You'll use it again?

Yes.

Sure, but it won't be as good. You know yourself. When you're in a competition, you only give yourself one good shot at a dive.

. . Yes.

The other tries are lackluster.

. . I know.

You get your one success attempt in and then you fail the other times.

I know!

So what do you expect now, at the highest level of competition, when you've used up now your second-highest scoring dive? What do you expect to do? Win with the others?

Maybe!

They have to be flawless. You have to lock in what you'll do for the final, and not touch any of them tomorrow. You can make it through the semis, Ruby. I know you can. Just restrain yourself.

Okay.

He couldn't.

It was dive six and he still hadn't recovered from the first dive. From his over-rotation.

He pauses on his trek up the platform, looks over to where he knew Wallace would be. Not that he could see much. The platform was in his way. But still. He looks over, pretends they both know he's making eye contact, and then continues up to the top.

He'd figure out the finals when he got there.

For now, he had to break out a big one to have that chance.

He's about halfway up when something else happens.

Though there are more people than he can possibly imagine crowded inside the arena, there's this itching on his neck. Like someone is watching him.

Dumb, huh?

Still, he pauses again, briefly, because though his predecessor in the lineup has yet to go, that doesn't mean he didn't need every second to prepare himself.

He pauses and looks out to his right, towards the wide abyss of stands and the mesh of people that filled them. And, immediately, his eyes seek out and find the absolute last person he'd thought about that day.

Gold from Mexico was staring back, on his feet, arms crossed over his chest. Beside him sat the blue-haired girl from the night before, sucking on a juice box and eyeing the diver at the front of the podium with disinterest. It was clear who actually wanted to be here.

And, feeling just a tad subconscious, Ruby realizes why as well.

It's him.

He jerks forward and brings his shoulder up to his ears, deciding he'd wasted enough time staring back. By the time he's at the top, the scores from the previous diver have come in.

It's his turn now.

Under pressure, his 109C was his more reliable dive. It was the one he could successfully pull off a second time in competition with higher than mediocre results. It was his expertise. But.

It was also only a 3.7 on the difficulty scale.

And this time, that wasn't cutting it.

So he steps up to the edge of the platform, he stands there with his limbs lax, and even with his self-proclaimed declaration earlier, he thinks about the choices he has.

But there really is only one choice. It's his sixth and final dive for the semifinals, and it has to be a forward dive.

He thinks how much he's practiced the dive he's planning on performing, which isn't much. He thinks about his current ranking, which isn't good. This could either be his greatest success or his end. The dive that furthers his Tokyo olympic career to the finals, or the one that suddenly and abruptly cuts it short.

Then, he thinks of the stunning golden eyes in the crowd he knows are pinned to him. He remembers the fuss he caused on the first day. He recalls the reputation he now has. He actually looks out in front of him, no longer zoned into his mind, and sees the waves of people before his eyes.

He thinks, well, he could give them a show.

So when the whistle blows, he backpedals to the middle of the platform. He runs, he jumps off, and instead of folding into a neat little tuck position, he kicks his legs out and brings his feet above his head.

And then proceeds to complete four and a half somersaults.

He curls under the water, sealing his entry, and feels good.

He hasn't felt this good so far in this competition.

When he comes up from the water, he can't contain his smile. He also can't look at Wallace, knowing what he'll find and not wanting anything to ruin this feeling. Ruby swims over to the edge of the pool, picks himself out, and takes a moment to breathe.

That's when the roar of the crowd hits him, and he gets slightly dizzy coming down from his adrenaline high. He doesn't know how long since his dive it's been, but he knows the crowd is still going absolutely nuts.

He turns to the screen, but it's blank, the scores not up yet.

A quick glance to the panel shows the judges still at work.

Even if he didn't do as well, with a four-point-one on the degree of difficulty, he'd still get high marks. He was sure. This was his one shot, and he'd done everything he could.

Ruby stands to the side, switches his balance to another foot, glances up at the second-to-last diver approaching the center of the platform, hesitant and still.

He doesn't look over where he knows Wallace will be, but he doesn't move, either.

Then the board lights up in his peripheral, and he whips his head towards the monitor, his score displaying.

His jaw drops.

Ruby Wells. 109B. 123 PTS.

That's . . that was . .

It is still and silent. His brain is thrust into a frenzy, trying to possibly figure out how the score shows so brazenly, how there are six out of seven perfect ten scores, three of them crossed out, and the one nine-point-five also crossed, leaving three tens remaining.

One hundred and twenty-three points.

And then, like some sort of presage, a single loud yell breaks out from the stands to the right of the platform. As if breaking a spell, absolutely everyone that isn't a judge or competing diver joins in, leaving the noise deafening.

Ruby ignores it. He's found the source of the shout that started it all. Standing beside a blue-haired girl in a Thailand jacket, still whooping and shouting his name, was Gold.

Wallace eventually came and took him aside, made sure he was alright, awoke him from his still shellshock form. I'm not mad, he told him.

That was good, he told him.

You can do your tuck tomorrow, he said. You're good.

After waiting beside his coach for the performance and results of the last two, he was pretty much recovered when it was announced that he was leading in first by a full eight points. Wallace told him he could have the rest of the day off, but first he'd have to do a couple interviews.

"After all, it wouldn't do to keep the people waiting for a star to speak," Wallace told him, winking at the end. That pretty much sold him.

"I can't believe it myself," he tells a lady from Japan's local NHK. "I knew Jian Yang had done the dive and gotten the score, but I also know he's a legend. I'm just . . me."

"He also only ever got five perfects, even with the final score being the same," she adds. Then she pokes him in the ribs, making him squeak and her giggle at the response before continuing. "And don't sell yourself short! You're the center of the diving world right now, Ruby-san. Everyone has their eyes on you."

"Well, uh . ." He ruffles his hair with a free hand, barking out a quick laugh. "Thank you! I have my coach to thank for that, for pushing me."

"Oh! So modest," says another interviewer, this one from the US. "Though, it isn't everyday you get such an accomplished olympic diver as Wallace Rallis is as your coach."

"Definitely. I looked up to him a lot as a kid."

He was pretty much ready to go, despite seemingly basking in the atmosphere, but another call of his name made him perk up.

"Ruby Wells! Let me get a good look at you, huh?"

"Gabby!" He turns, a huge smile spreading on his face. "I was wondering when I would run into you."

She shares a look with her cameraman and laughs it off. "I was planning on waiting until you'd won the whole thing, but your little stunt today changed some plans." She gestures back to Ty and the camera. "Mind if we get a quick word?"

Ruby shrugs. "Might as well pay homage." He lets the click of the camera light come on before speaking again. "The next time I do will be wearing the flag as I'm handed the gold."

"Hah! Some high words, to start."

Gabby leads him through a series of questions, all easy and new and fun to talk about with her, as it always is. When they finish up and Ty lowers the camera, she smacks a hand atop his head, a grin on her face.

"Don't jinx yourself, kiddo," she tells him. "Go out there and win for us. For Greece."

She releases him and he salutes with a nod. "Right."

As they're walking away and he's thinking of where to stop first, a voice interrupts his thoughts.

"You didn't quite tell the truth, the other night."

He jumps and spins around, only to find Gold right before him. He continues before Ruby can get a word out.

"Making a fuss of age when you aren't even from the States," he prattles. "You didn't mention you were from Greece! I had to figure that out myself, watching you today. Good job, by the way," he ends, winking.

Ruby sputters. "Well I–I'm training there. It sucks. I mean-! It doesn't, it's actually nice, but the drinking age and the legal age are higher, so that sucks. Uh."

Gold's laughing at this point, and Ruby feels his cheeks heat up. Then his eyes pop open and rove over the diver's figure, and though he's in a jacket and sweats, he still feels very self-conscious, something that hasn't happened in awhile.

"So," Gold says, flicking his eyes away. "What you up to now?"

"N-Nothing." Ruby shifts his stance.

"Great!" Gold grins again and he finds his legs feeling weak, which is not good because Wallace would kill him if he was out of form-

"Come with me, then. There's an event I've gotta go see, and I'm not quite done with you yet."

There's that blush again, coming back to bite him in the ass. Still, it's not like he has anything else to do. And he doesn't mind Gold, not really.

So he says yes.

[ the scores are supposed to be bolded nd they are on the txt editor but they.. arent here? jus so you know ]