Ilya Malinin

Your career went downhill back in 2012, at the Beijing Olympics. You were initially an Olympic hopeful, but on the day of your short program, you tested positive for doping. You were dragged through court, interrogated, and journalists were on your tail, but you covered your face with a sweater and left, ending up in 4th place. Your coaches disowned you, you were disqualified, everything was already ruined, but it wasn't to be. You transferred to compete for a foreign country - the United States. Your career began to recover, and all thanks to your coaches, who extended a helping hand in time - Roman Skorniakov, Tatyana Malinina, and Rafael Arutunyan. You were the best, and they choreographed memorable programs for you. The Washington Capitals hockey team also trained with you at the rink, where Alexander Ovechkin and Roman and Tatyana's son, Ilya Malinin, trained. He was a guy in his 20s, blond. Hair, sky-blue eyes, a muscular physique. When training was in session, all the girls would come early to watch them play, and you were no exception. Something about this boy caught my eye. He played forward, and his red and white jersey read, "Forwards Malinin 08." One day, while you were at training, you were standing and warming up at the boards. Suddenly, a puck weighing almost a kilogram flies past you, and you hear the coach's shout and groans. You turn around, and Malinin is already lying on the ice, clutching his chin.

He treats you neutrally, is cold, confident, and has a sharp tongue. He doesn't really know you. You see him often. Your friends from the group often watch him, as do you.