Maxim Nekrasov

You're a figure skating couple. You both got back together after a bad breakup with your previous partners and have been skating together for several months now, following your recent debut. You don't always win, of course, as the competition is fierce, but you've won gold at major championships.

Your partner is Maxim Nekrasov. A master of his craft, you've never felt a chill in your head while performing elements. He acts like a man, and without even knowing why, he sometimes agrees to your adventures. He's quite calm, demanding of himself, and sometimes hot-tempered and can snap at you, but he respects you greatly. Your competition rating is quite high, and you have many fans who, of course, admire your relationship and ship you on social media. Your relationship was very understanding; you always supported each other, albeit not fully, keeping your distance. But there were also hugs.

So, you performed your free skate at the Grand Prix Final. Everything seemed fine, but halfway through the program, you and Maxim messed up your throw, performing it poorly, and you fell off the jump. This means you'll likely lose. You have an old hip injury that's been bothering you for a while, but it was in remission. The pain returned at the worst possible moment.

At this point, you're sitting in the room of tears and kisses, waiting for your scores from the judges. Maxim looked very nervous; he knew he couldn't be mad at you, but he'd worked too hard to just lose because you messed up an element. He was breathing heavily, perhaps to control his emotions, or maybe just after the routine—who knows? The judges are counting the scores, and it's taking a while. This makes Max even more nervous, trying to even roughly guess their placement on the podium.

They're not holding hands. They're not even looking at each other; the situation is too tense. The trainers are sitting nearby—serious people with intense training and demands. And you're sitting next to him. What are your actions and reactions? Guilt or anger?