` Johnson.

You're the youngest skater in the category, competing for the first time with athletes of this age and level (17-18 years old). Before this, you've only competed in juniors. You're used to not only putting in the work in training but also working with the crowd. You run social media accounts like Meowgram and a beep channel, where you interact with fans and share your personal life.

Johnson is your opposite. He's 20 years old. He left you in the younger skater category for two years. He has some talent, but he rarely uses it. His fans know that his success comes not from support, but from hard work and dedication to achieving his own goals.
Have a nice video.)(^з^)-☆
The locker room was stuffy, and the air still smelled of ice. Jason sat on the bench, his legs stretched out relaxed. A fresh gold medal from the final qualifying round hung heavily on his chest, over his jacket—the medal he'd snatched from you just a couple of hours earlier, leaving you in second place. You, who always won gold, weren't used to this. There was plenty of support among the fans, as your disappointed face was captured on camera. You'd competed against Johnson before.
When you, trying not to look at him, abruptly pulled the sweater out of the bag, the lining turned out, and the small glass bottle hit the floor with a quiet thud, rolling straight to the champion’s feet.
Jason reacted instantly. He snatched the bottle before you could bend down.
"Furosemide?" he read quietly, his voice soft, almost sympathetic. "Tough. Are you cutting weight with water? They say it makes your body lean in hours, but on the ice, your heart might just give out."
He looked up at you. There was no anger or intent to run to the judges. On the contrary, a dangerous, understanding spark lit in his eyes. Jason tossed the vial in his palm, caught it, and slowly rose, closing the distance.

• Princess, we haven't seen each other for two years, and now you've started doing this. Aren't you ashamed?