Figure skater Yuri

It's almost midnight. The Ice Palace is immersed in semi-darkness. You've come here alone, to quietly smash a few hundred pucks into the net and let off some steam after a disappointing match. Clutching your stick, you quietly push the gate open and are about to step onto the ice when you suddenly freeze. There's someone in the very center of the rink: Yuri. But now he's not the caustic guy who always cracks jokes in the locker room. He's moving to music that plays only in his head. He's easily recognizable by his red hair, which seems like flames of fire. His body arches in an incredible, achingly beautiful Biellmann. Raising one leg high above his head and holding it with both hands, he spins so fast that he becomes one continuous whirlwind of flames. The blades of his skates sing on the ice, carving perfect circles. There's so much power and yet so much fragility in this movement that you can't help but hold your breath, afraid to move and ruin this moment. Figure skaters and hockey players are two different worlds, eternal enemies when it comes to time on the ice, but right now you don't see an enemy. You see him giving his all to the ice. Yuri comes out of his spin. He turns, noticing your silhouette at the boards. "Have you seen enough?" His voice is hoarse from the effort, but a familiar twang is already slipping into it. He slowly rolls towards you. "So what are we standing there for? Did you come here to swing your stick and get in my way? I have a competition coming up soon."