For four months, Jake had trained to his absolute limit for the competition, though during all that time he had also been searching for his lover—that separation which had arisen solely because of his own pride. Although he felt guilty and deeply broken, he fought tooth and nail to qualify for the tournament, for he knew perfectly well that Aibek would also be competing there. That was why he promised himself he would seek him out and find him; this trip would be their long-awaited reunion.
"Beky... I'm going to find you..." Jake murmured, gazing at the bear keychain his beloved had left behind back then. He looked at it with infinite love and sweetness, but also with an intense nostalgia that reminded him of the most beautiful moments they had spent together.
Meanwhile, on the flight bound for Germany, Bek held his sketchbook in his hands. After four months, the pad was nearly full, but crowded with portraits of Jake. He had never wanted to forget him; he loved him too much, but the fear of others' criticism and the sheer terror of Zinov had paralyzed him. The Russian had seen to it that they were divided through an argument that should never have happened, built entirely upon pure lies.
In a cruel twist, his mind transported him back to that painful day, and his heart ached sharply. He remembered that on the flight back to Kazakhstan, he had stumbled upon negative comments on social media that he used to ignore, but that day, they broke him. Jake always told him not to pay attention to them, that they were just envious, but his treacherous mind kept drawing him back time and again to the memories of the forest, where they had felt free and where their relationship had truly begun to bond.
He felt an uncontrollable urge to draw him once more. Upon opening the pages, he lost himself staring at one of his own sketches: Jake looking through the window, as if planning a future by his side. Seeing that, Bek could not contain himself and began to weep in silence. He felt terrible about the separation, but what else could he do? He believed the Canadian wanted nothing more to do with him, since they were never able to talk and Jake had never responded to his messages or calls. He had conditioned his mind to the idea that his presence would only ruin the skater's life.
"I'm sorry... I didn't want anything bad to happen... forgive me, Jake... I didn't want to walk away... but... you didn't give me a chance..." Amidst stifled tears, he tried to compose himself. He carefully turned the pages of the notebook until stopping at a blank page. He searched his pencil case and found only a nearly worn-down pencil, but he didn't hesitate to begin tracing the lines.
Little by little, the drawing took shape. It was Jake, portrayed once again, but now wearing the costume for his definitive program: that flawless outfit with a gradient running from navy blue to white, featuring a beautiful jacket and golden details that emulated perfect roses. He drew his golden skates with the "JJ" engraved; everything about that attire was breathtaking, as the gold roses cascaded up the trousers like a climbing vine. As he sketched, Bek could almost feel the chill of the rink, hear the background music, and the crunch of the blades scraping the ice when the Canadian executed a perfect quadruple jump and landed with absolute elegance.
Upon finishing the drawing, he contemplated his masterpiece: a beautiful pose, a charming and handsome skater, a costume identical to the real one that surely rested in the Canadian's wardrobe. At that moment, the captain's voice announced they were about to land, so he packed everything away in a hurry, leaving the notebook in his carry-on bag.
When the flight arrived at the airport, night had already fallen. It had been several hours of travel, and the physical exhaustion was evident. He walked down toward the car that would transfer him to the hotel; fortunately, the luggage was already on its way separately. He followed his coach, who had remained quiet because the Kazakh had begged him not to touch upon any topic related to the competition. The silence was broken only inside the vehicle.
"Tomorrow you're going to train early, at seven. Keep in mind that you'll have your interview that same day, and the day after tomorrow will be the ladies' short program. Would you like to attend?" the coach asked, hoping he would accept to distract himself with some friend, but he only received a sigh.
"It's fine, I'd like to... but the others will be there... no... it's better if I just train and that's it..." With that, Bek rested his head against the window, watching the nighttime German landscape. "I hate interviews... they only want to pry into one's private life."
"You know it well... just don't answer what you don't want to, you are well within your rights, Aibek..." the coach encouraged him, handing him a cup of hot chocolate that the driver had bought before they climbed in.
"I know... but they still make up grand stories anyway..." he murmured, thanking him for the gesture. Whether cold or hot, chocolate was his adored drink, and unconsciously, he remembered when Jake used to prepare it for him at the cabin. He sighed with nostalgia, something his coach noticed immediately, choosing to give him his space by handing over his phone and headphones so he could relax.
The drive to the hotel became peaceful as the Kazakh listened to classical music. The melody made him submerge into the illusion of his own short program; he moved his fingers delicately to the rhythm, retracing the choreography in his mind. Upon arriving at the hotel, each checked into their respective rooms. In the lobby, they crossed paths with a few skaters whom he greeted out of courtesy, though without his old spark.
Once inside his room, Bek left the sketchbook on the bed and stood contemplating the window. Thus fell his first night in Germany, relieved not to have seen the Canadian... for now.
What Aibek could not imagine was that right across the hall, specifically right in front of his room door, the Canadian was resting from his own journey, having arrived barely two hours before him. Jake was lying down, tightly hugging that small bear keychain from which he never parted. He didn't take his eyes off it because he had made a promise to himself: to find the owner of that little bear, which had an "A" embroidered on its paw, to return what belonged to him. The Canadian already had a perfect plan to ask for his forgiveness; it would be a massive and very sweet surprise for his beloved Aibek.