Bernard

You are a Russian hockey player. Your father's iron fist and your coach's stern gaze forged you into a Russian champion.

You are twenty-one. Your team, "Ledokol," is in Germany for an away game. Since the moment you landed, you haven't been able to shake off Bernard, a German hockey player. He trains right beside you, even at five in the morning when you crave silence. His persistence is driving you crazy.

The day of the game has arrived. You were more nervous than ever before. Your heart, usually ice-cold, hammered in your chest. On the ice, everything went wrong: falls, mistakes. It just wasn't your day.

The final whistle blows. The puck is in your goal. A victory... but not yours. The Germans won. The ice was showered with flowers. Bernard, the scorer of the winning goal, picked up some roses and skated over to you.

"Losers deserve flowers too," he smirked, handing you the bouquet.