One week later...
Phichit's legs were twitching from the nerves. His first time at the Olympics! Round One. The beginning. He wasn't going to let it be the ending too.
Even though he tried to be tough with himself, he knew he hadn't been performing at his best. All week, Coach had done a lot more sighing than usual, which was saying something.
It was too late to change the routine, but Coach had been sorely tempted several times, just to snap Phichit out of the mental rut he seemed to have entered.
I'm going to be okay, Phichit told himself, shifting from one foot to another. This is going to be fun!
Why didn't he believe it?
The nerves were making him sick, and it wasn't just the pressure of the competition.
"Okay, your turn for warm-up," Coach said roughly, laying a hand firmly on Phichit's arm. "...You okay?" he added, catching sight of the jittering.
"I'm fine," Phichit replied with a brave smile.
Coach nodded. "Just remember why you're here. Don't lose sight of your goal."
Phichit's brave smile became a worried frown when he turned towards the ice. The old dream he'd had, he still felt a pang of nostalgia when his mind touched on it. Phichit's ice show in Thailand, showing his country how awesome and fun ice skating could be... It just seemed so far away. So unreal. Just a daydream. The colours in the scene were too bright for the world he lived in.
Everything was so different in the competitive scene. This couldn't be his inspiration.
Phichit got on the ice and began to push some of his nervous energy into a spin or a jump or two, but his heart wasn't in it. He looked over to the side of the rink a few times to see Coach's face drooping.
He couldn't keep going. He suddenly had to get out of there.
Phichit ran off the ice with a ferocity that startled his coach, and the sprinkling of audience members who had been paying him any attention. After taking off his skates, he ran straight out of the competitors' area and hid behind a vending machine, leaning against the wall and breathing heavily.
No! What was happening to him?!
"Phichit?" a child's voice said hesitantly, and Phichit hated that anyone had to see him like this.
"Mr. Chulanont, you're my hero," the voice said again. Phichit opened his eyes slowly. In front of him stood a little girl, maybe five years old, wearing a vibrant red and yellow dress.
Her mother smiled and gave her a gentle push. "Go on, then. Show it to him."
The little girl stepped forward shyly and handed Phichit a crayon drawing. It showed a stick figure skater with black hair and a beautiful bright costume. He was surrounded by other skaters, all wearing fun and creative outfits. Behind them the walls of their arena tapered up into a point, just like... Phichit struggled with the emotions that flooded him. This looked so much like his own dream, the one he had almost let go of. Phichit on Ice.
"What's your name?" he asked the girl, trying not to let his emotions show lest he should cry.
"Laya," the girl replied with a smile.
Phichit grabbed a pen from his pocket (he always kept one ready for autographs) and began writing at the side of the picture. 'Dear Laya. Thank you for being an amazing fan. You're so talented! Yours truly – Phichit Chulanont.'
"Thank you," the girl's mother said to him with a grateful smile while Laya hugged her drawing...
"Thank you," Phichit said very quietly as he watched them walk away.
He was wasting his warm-up time. He had a show to run here.
Hauling himself up, Phichit marched back into the competitors' area, pulled on his skates and launched himself onto the rink. Coach had disappeared. Probably looking for him.
I'm sorry Thailand, Phichit implored his country. I'm sorry I almost gave up on you. The regret and determination and the promise of a new beginning suddenly consumed him and he flew into a step routine fighting back tears. A circle here, a run here. Suddenly, something shifted inside Phichit's heart. He felt a jolt of electricity rush through his body as he next slammed his right foot down onto the ice.
Let yourself go... You can stand like a feather on the ice.
It was happening! He was connecting with the ice again!
The next practise jump went askew, but when Phichit looked to the side of the rink, there was Coach, and the tiredness in his eyes was gone. His eyes were wide open in shock.
Phichit pressed forward and let the old dream take over his whole mind. Beautiful, bright, Thailand, in love with the ice... Long cast aside, the bright colours in his imagined scene seemed to seep out from the confines of his thoughts, bringing new energy to his body and filling his heart with a fire he hadn't realised just how much he'd missed.
Oops. Screwed up the next jump as well. That was okay. Keep pressing forward.
Thailand, I don't want to bring you perfect moves. I want to bring you passion.
All your dreams can come true, if you just believe...
Phichit barely noticed the rest of his warm-up time fly by, and by the time Coach called him off, he was well and truly puffed. But he felt more alive than he had in a long time.
Guang Hong was coming on for warm-up now, and Phichit gave him a Really Big smile.
His friend smiled back. "I guess you figured it out then? Why you're here?"
"I did," Phichit replied.
Guang Hong slapped him companionably on the back. "Good going," he said with a big wink. "Then the silver medal can be yours!"