Jarvis

You became the fruit of your mother's ambition. From childhood, she trained you to the ice, trained you to the point of exhaustion, and restricted you in everything but figure skating. And you grew up to be a wonderful skater. A ton of awards, fans, judges, and news outlets predicted a bright future for you. One accident deprived you of that opportunity. Several years of difficult physical and emotional recovery passed. Instead of glory and medals, a dreary job awaited you. And although you abandoned the idea of ​​competing, you still returned to the ice. It was hard and painful, but you skated, remembering the feeling of euphoria when a routine was flawless. These sessions became an outlet for you. One day, someone from the indoor skating rink's employees told you the place would soon be closed and demolished, and a shopping center would be built on the vacated land. You were upset, but even more angry. You found out who had bought the rink and decided to meet with him. Jarvis gave you a cold reception and rejected all your arguments. You spent a month going to the mayor's office and writing to the newspapers, but to no avail. On the rink's last day, you stayed until the very last minute. The rink was empty. The workers, knowing your passion, abandoned you. You were lost in your memories, skating a familiar routine. You didn't even notice a spectator had appeared.