chapter 7.2

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Grabbing all of your gear, the two of you rush inside to start warming up.

"There are eight pairs and we're going fifth," you report to Mark, checking the performance schedule expertly.

"Uh, okay. Yes... is that good?".

"It's whatever. We just need to show the audience everything we have," you say while smushing his cheeks in between your palms.

"Okay". His voice comes out adorably from his face being sandwiched in your hands.

Other skaters look on judgmentally, but you stare calmly back until they look away. The music from the routine of the current skaters on the ice ends.
"Calling pair five, Mark Lee and y/n to the ice for rehearsal. Mark Lee and y/n to the ice for rehearsal," the overhead announcer repeats.

"That's us". You take a deep breath and grab Mark's hand. He gives you a reassuring squeeze as you skate out from the benches onto the ice. It's only a rehearsal, so only a few people, coaches and other skaters, were watching. Even so, you blink nervously as you run through the routine in your head.

"Are you ready?," Mark questions with a smile, pulling you into the starting position. Your heart races against your chest, but you take a deep breath to calm it down. After everything you've been through, this is not the hill you'll die on.

"I'm ready". You nod to the staff members and the familiar tune fills the stadium.

It's a song that Mark picked out himself. It's 'his contribution' to the group project as he joked when you were contemplating your music choice. Playing the simple song on his phone, one earbud for you and the other for him, he explained that it says everything that he feels for you. And it's absolutely perfect.
...

"Twenty minutes and you're up, group five! Please be on stand-by," a staff member peeps her head into the locker room as you touch up your hair and makeup. All around you, skaters bustle around, frantically stitching last-minute sequins back on their dresses or brushing on copious amounts of blush, surely to stand out to even those seated in the back row.

Pair four is about to go out on the ice, meaning you'll be out there before you know it.

Mark is in the men's locker room, of course. He must feel odd being the only one there right now. You texted him asking if he needed help with his costume, but he insisted he'd handle it just fine. It's more you worrying than anything.

Taking your hundredth yoga breath of the day, you peer into your reflection in the water-stained mirror. Your long, dark hair is half-up and half-down - loose enough to flow with your skating, but also pinned back so you don't completely choke on it. Natural makeup adorns your eyes and lips. It's a much different look than what'd you'd usually go for when skating, but after a lot of careful consideration, it would be much more meaningful both to the performance and to you to go out like this.

Your dress is a stunning royal red. After Uncle Joe told your parents about the competition, they all chipped in to buy it for you to wear tonight. You insisted that it was okay, that it was far too expensive and you could just wear your old one especially since money is so tight, but they wouldn't let you get another word in.

So now it's on your body with the price tag cut off. You trace a finger over the intricate sequins of the bodice down to the flowy silk skirt. Trusty white skates already laced up, it's time to go out and meet Mark.

You start to make your way into the hall.

"Hey y/n, you're getting a call," one of the other skaters calls out.

Stopping in your tracks, you hop awkwardly back in your skates, thanking her as you grab your phone from her outstretched hand.

It's a Facetime call from Yuna.

You pick it up, the screen skipping a few times as the signal struggles to connect.

"y/n!". Metallic voices on the other side come out distorted and the images are no higher quality than 240p at best, but you recognize instantly that your closest friends are all there sitting in the bleachers.
"y/n, you look so beautiful! Are you next?," Lisa calls over the other voices.

"No, there's someone going now but Mark and I will be right after," you reply, a smile blooming across your face.

"Markos! Markos! Markos!," the boys start chanting, evicting laughter from your chest.

"y/n your parents are here too! And Uncle Joe". The camera pans around, revealing the blurry faces of said loved ones.

"No way! Mom? Dad? Joe?," you gasp, "how'd you come all the way out here?".

"Honey!," your mother greets, beaming at the camera, "of course we came! You worked so hard, your friends have been telling me all about it!"
"And we want to meet this Mark boy too," your father adds.

You scoff, rolling your eyes playfully.

"You're a good one, kiddo," Joe chimes in, "and I have a feeling we'll be seeing something spectacular tonight. From the skating I've seen tonight, you won't have much trouble at all getting that prize-"
"Joe!," you hush, "I'm still in the locker room! Don't say that!".

Looking around nervously, thankfully nobody seems to have heard Uncle Joe's criticism.

"Listen everyone, thank you so much for coming tonight, it means the world to me. We'll definitely talk after, but for now, I really gotta go".

"Okay babe, just wanted to let you know we're all rooting for you!". Yuna pulls the camera back to reveal everyone cheering and waving to you. Your heart tingles with butterflies at the gesture. "You're gonna kill it tonight! Love you!".

Relaying your affections back, you hang up the call and head out into the hall.

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