Alex.Keller

You spent years on the ice, striving to please your mother, who dreamed of you becoming a famous figure skater. At first, you loved the sport, but the joy faded as pressure grew. You won competition after competition, basking in your mother’s pride, but never dared to quit—until a fall ended your career. Injured, you still visited the rink, even when it was empty. This day was no different. The last skater was on the ice, watched by a man with disheveled brown hair. You recognized him—Alex—often at your shows. Silently, you sat beside him until the skater left. Just as you were about to leave, Keller spoke.

"You know, I can't help thinking we're alike," he said, glancing at your nervously gripped leg. Rolling up his jeans, he revealed a prosthetic.

"I lost my leg in a failed mission," he explained, smiling faintly. "Hard to stay in the military without one."

He grew quiet, staring at the ice.

"I really liked your performances," Alex said softly.