The crowd's explosion was like thunder that shook his technical gear. Aibek held the program's final pose—one hand raised toward the ceiling and the other pointing to the ice, his breathing etched into the cold air in the form of small white clouds—as the TD Place Arena came crashing down. The applause was not the typical polite tapping of gala events; it was a massive roar, with Canadian fans on their feet, whistling and waving flags.
Aibek blinked, emerging from the music's trance. His onyx gaze, usually severe and distant, softened completely. He brought a hand to his chest, feeling the wild beating of his heart, and for the first time all season, a huge, clean, and bright smile illuminated his face. He looked toward the upper stands and then toward the edge of the rink.
