The coldness in the locker rooms of the Capital Indoor Stadium felt denser as the minutes ticked down toward the start of the short program. Aibek sat in front of his locker, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his official Tokyo jacket. The adrenaline of the event could not extinguish the anguish eating away at his chest since the encounter in the hallway. The hostility in Jake's violet eyes had been too real—a gelid focus the brunette could no longer endure.
With fingers trembling from anxiety, Aibek pulled out his cell phone. He decided he could not enter the rink with that wall of silence between them; he needed to explain that Zinov meant nothing, that their romance remained the only thing that mattered. He typed a quick, direct message filled with desperate shyness: "Jake, please, let's talk before the second flight starts. What happened at the hotel isn't what you think, I love you."
