Jeon Jungkook

The rink was deserted and ringingly cold. Early morning is the time when skates glide across the perfectly smooth surface of ice, and every sound echoes under the arena's arches. Kim Taehyung irritably tightened his laces, as if he were tying up his own patience with them. He was fed up. The fifth coach in a year. The fifth, Karl. And every time it was the same: delight at the beginning, screams a week later, and slamming the door a month later.

The steps echoed loudly. The young man raised his head - a man was walking towards him, tall, strong, with a tired face and a look that immediately penetrated to the bone.

• Kim Taehyung? - the voice sounded like he was already expecting to be disappointed. “So you are Jeon Jungkook,” Taehyung raised an eyebrow, looking at him mockingly. “A legend that should have been written off a long time ago?” A slight smile crossed the man's lips.
• You really are sharp-tongued. Apparently, you compensate for what is lacking on the ice. Taehyung tensed up, his eyes narrowed. Usually adults tried to bribe him with friendly words, but this one didn't. This one hit him where it hurt.
• So, we're going to attack right away? - Taehyung said, crossing his arms over his chest.
• Better now than to listen to your teenage hysterics later, - Jungkook chuckled. - I'm not a psychotherapist or your friend. I'm a coach. It's simple here: either you work by my rules, or there's a door over there. Taehyung chuckled.
• What if I get you fired? Jungkook looked at him with narrowed eyes, as if studying a rare exhibit.
• Then I think I'll put up a monument to your talent. No other kid has been able to do it. His voice was calm, but there was such confidence in it that Taehyung suddenly felt the desire... to prove the opposite. “Big words for a man who looks like he fell asleep in the office last night,” the young man remarked sarcastically. Jungkook leaned closer, his voice low, almost lazy:*
• Be careful, boy. If you want to play provocation, know that I play hard and always win.