“i genuinely think they’re friends”
“figure skaters don’t make friends”
“false. they make emotional support rivals”
“those are different”
“are they though”
“the funniest possibility is that absolutely nothing is happening and we’ve all collectively lost our minds”
“i refuse to consider that possibility”
“every interaction between them feels important somehow”
“okay but WHY”
“if any of us knew that we wouldn’t be in this thread”
“fair”
“the compilation edits are getting out of hand”
“there are compilation edits?”
“there are ALWAYS compilation edits”
“i saw one set to hozier”
“of course you did”
“the real victim in all this is mila Kadanek”
“mila knows something”
“mila always knows something”
“i have no evidence for this statement”
“none required”
Chapter Twenty-Five
February 9
Luka
The press conferenceroom felt hotter than the arena.
There were bright lights and so many cameras. My impression was of too many people watching for reactions instead of listening to answers.
Mila sat beside me behind the long table, immaculate as always in her team jacket, bronze medal gleaming in the harsh white glare. Sokolov sat to her left, and his expression was that of someone who considered press conferences something to be endured.
The first questions were expected, covering technical content and the pressure of skating last. Whether Velkarya had anticipated reaching the team podium.
Mila handled most of them while I answered where required, my voice calm and measured, years of media training sliding into place. Outwardly, everything remained controlled.
Inside, I was on edge.
