FAST AS YOU CAN

Dorcas Meadowes was one the youngest Olympic champions when she won her bronze medal at only sixteen. She was a phenomenon. A legend in the making. She had two triple axels in her free skate and consistently landed them. Her short program made some people cry. Everyone talked about her technique and artistry, the entire world’s eyes watched her when she took her place on the podium.
To everyone, she seemed still so young and juvenile, still a bit baby-faced even with the makeup and her pretty grown-up hairstyle. Her smile was bright and she became the people’s princess. Just like that. Every magazine talked about her first victory, her first medal, her first Olympic title. She gave interviews and met important people such as the Prime Minister. But these kinds of things are brittle. One misstep is all it takes to be put aside, disregarded. Many champions suffered this fate.
Olympic gold can buy you a lifetime of fame and public’s appreciation. You will always be loved. Silver attracts a desire for revenge. They want to see you come back and get your rightful golden place. Olympic silver is for underdogs and fighters. People you don’t want to see give up. Bronze is for sympathy. They’ll keep watching you only if you manage to come back. If not, you’ll be forgotten altogether. No one cares for someone else’s bare minimum. Only your fans will have your back but, even then, you’ll have to prove them you’re still trying your best to be great or else…

Fame is a fragile thing.

Dorcas Meadowes was twenty when she disappeared from the public eye, four years ago. Four years after her victory. No one knew what had happened to her.

One day she was training for the Olympics and the next she was gone. All her social medias were deleted and her name was retired from upcoming competitions. From the Olympic roster. Rumours started to bloom. She had been caught in a drugging scandal. She had assaulted another skater. She had killed herself, not able to bear her fame anymore. Fanpages relayed the news and hours-long videos were made on the subject but no one ever got a definitive answer. Nor ISU, the International Skating Union, or British Ice Skating commented on it, bringing even more mystery around her disappearance. Only her coach, the renowned Minerva McGonagall, put out a statement. It said that Dorcas Meadowes was retiring. Nothing more. Nothing less. No reason. It was a strange thing on the moment. People talked about it for a few weeks, even months, and then moved on. And just like that, she became a memory for many.

To Marlene McKinnon, Dorcas Meadowes was a fucking star. They came from the same little English town on the coast and went to the same daycare. Way before her career had even started. They never talked or anything but Dorcas knew her name and it was enough at the time. Their mums both worked at the hospital. They were in the same circles but never close enough to gravitate around each other. Then Dorcas got scouted and all of Marlene’s chances to befriend her went up in flames.

When she was ten years old, Marlene realized she would never love school. Sure, she liked meeting new people and learning and trying new things and she even liked her teachers. But when it came to school, as a whole, she despised it. She wasn’t doing great with homework and authority. She spent more time in detention than in classrooms. She was disruptive and loud and a bit obnoxious but, again, she was ten. Her only goal in life was to be as cool and well-known locally as Dorcas Meadowes.

That’s how she came across hockey. It wasn’t the same as figure skating, sure, but it was her own thing. She loved it from the get-go. It was brutal and thrilling and she loved every single second of her first match. She could be as loud and annoying as she wanted on the ice. It became her favourite place as soon as she put her foot in her first skates. Of course, she sucked but her teammates helped her and, in the end, they won. It didn’t mean anything. They were ten years old and fearless and she begged her parents to enrol her in the town’s hockey club. They eventually accepted, after a few days, because it meant being child-free for at least a few hours each week and they needed that very badly.

So, yeah, Marlene’s thing was hockey. She still followed Dorcas’ career as she grew more and more popular, from local celebrity to worldwide child prodigy. She would appear in a newspaper and Marlene could say she sort-of knew her as she collected every picture and interview. She even had a journal dedicated to her. Dorcas was only twelve and already famous enough to travel the world for competitions. One day she was in France and the next in Korea. Marlene’s only hope to become such a well-known athlete was to get drafted in the national team or something like that. And, even then, female players were rarely as acclaimed as males. Still, she wasn’t going to let go of her own thing. And she never did.

Twelve years later, she’s still standing on the ice. Strong and fearless. She still loves it more than anything in her life. She was quite born for this, to be honest. Marlene is almost only great at hockey. Whereas her teammates all have other things they like and live for, Marlene only has hockey. Sure, she goes to university and study a bit of things she finds interesting but it’s not her end goal.

Her biggest dream has always been to go to the Olympics, just like her idol. Back in the days, she could even have hoped to meet Dorcas there. Maybe they could have sat next to each other on the plane or even walked side by side at the opening parade. Their rooms would have been close and they could have gone to the ice rinks together every morning. Of course, she let this whole idea go when Dorcas disappeared from the public eye.

Marlene has other plans for her whole Olympic career, now. A team medal, an MVP title, pretty photographs and magazines covers. It’s so close… She wants her name to be chanted by fans at every match. She has already quite the fanbase, too. She’s not as popular as older players such as Alice, Evelyn or Amelia but she’s known enough, in her opinion. People send her gifts and she always has notifications from strangers on her social medias. It changed as they started to become more and more popular, after the announcement of the Olympic team’s lineup. She went from niche celebrity to almost famous. She’ll never get attention from people outside of her reach but her fans are loyal and total sweethearts. At least the ones reaching out to here. Teenagers confessing her love to her in private messages or whole paragraphs about the importance of being a proud lesbian in sports. It’s sincerely heartwarming to read things like that most of the days. But it can also be quite overwhelming sometimes. They’ve been a bit trained on how to engage with people but Marlene will always stay away from her phone after bad performances. Frank could say anything but it will never be easy to not pay mind to what people are saying about her on the internet. She often wonders how Dorcas did it… Marlene struggles and she doesn’t even have a quarter of her fame…

Currently, they’re preparing for the Olympics. Almost her whole team made it as they’re the best of England. Well, Great Britain to speak in Olympic terms. Anyway. She’s glad she gets to fulfil her dreams with her friends by her side. Especially Mary, her best friend, and Charity, her not-so-quite-but-almost-girlfriend. Dating is prohibited within the team but having fun never really hurt anyone, right? As long as their frightful coach, Aurora Sinistra, is not aware of what’s going on under her nose. She’s a great instructor and a terrific player but, when it comes to rules and order, she doesn’t play. It’s fairly normal if you think about it since athletes as such as them should know to behave. But they’re still all fairly young and they love to joke around. Can you really blame them for enjoying their youth?

Well, Aurora probably does because she seems a bit pissed, right now. They’re all sitting in the locker-room after practice. They should probably head home or back to the gym, for the most masochist ones, but she asked them to stay put. So, they obeyed. No one here has a death wish as far as Marlene is aware. She exchanges eyerolls with Mary while Aurora stands in front of the door, arms crossed, waiting for their chatter to die down. It takes a few more seconds and Alice clearing her throat but it eventually comes.

“Well, ladies. As you know, the Olympic season is upon us. It means changes, obviously. You’re already quite aware of the practices modifications the coaches, Alice and I agreed on. But it’s not all. The Olympics can be nerve wrecking even for the toughest people,” she marks a pause and her gaze softens as she looks at her players. “I’m certain you’re all mentally well enough to be here as I made sure of that myself. Still, the IIHF representative that was assigned to us suggested we made an addition to the team,” her stern face comes back and she seems even more displeased than a few seconds prior. Marlene looks around and see that her scepticism is shared with most of her teammates. Even Alice, their always-optimist and happy-go-lucky captain, is frowning.

“What I mean by that,” Aurora resumes talking. “Is that a new assistant will join us for the rest of the season. Her role in the team is mostly to guide you throughout the Olympics-related changes as she already went once. She’s also got a psychology degree so she’ll also be here to help you in that sense.”

“An Olympic champion is coming to coach us?” Bellatrix seems delighted, suddenly half out of her place, ready to jump.

“What? Who is it?” asks Lucinda, as equally exited by the news.

“Oh, please could it be Rolanda Hooch? She’s a star!” adds Bertha, her voice creaking.

Soon enough, the entire room is echoing questions and wishes on who this mysterious Olympic champion could be. There are only a few possibilities as Great Britain hasn’t been to the Olympics since a long time. That’s why most of their teams are in their early to mid-twenties. Older athletes are either already retired or just didn’t make the cut. They’re the new hope of British Ice Hockey. Most of them agree on it to be most likely Rolanda Hooch, the hockey icon. It’s been more than ten years since her last Olympics but she’s always inclined to participate in events and go on tours. She likes to move around. She’s a legend to most of the girls here. But Aurora shoots down the curiosity of her team with a cold stare.

“Let me talk and I’ll tell you who it is. You really are a bunch eager kids,” she sighs but it’s not meant to be mean. There’s a gentleness in her tone, resembling one of a mother. They trouble her but she can’t help but like her players. “Anyway, I don’t feel telling you anymore. You’ll figure it out tomorrow. Don’t forget to get straight to the gym when you arrive, alright? We’ll start with cardio.” And that’s it. She dismisses them with a vague hand gesture and get out of the room before anyone can say anything.

Soon enough, they all start chattering again, all dying to guess who’s the mysterious new coach. Marlene doesn’t care that much, to be honest. Sure, she’s as curious as the others, but it won’t change anything to her. They’ll be able to ask questions for a few days but after the novelty, it’ll only be another assistant coach. It could be interesting if it is a really good player. She wonders how they’ll deal with a new person. They’re only three months away from the Olympics and they’ve all been working together for years. Even the newest additions, Bellatrix, Doris and Hestia, have been here for months.
Maybe it’ll be like Remus. The guy started working as assistant managers a few weeks ago. Frank needed help. But it doesn’t change anything to them. They barely even see him. She hopes it’ll be the same with this new person.
They all worked quite hard to be where they are today. She just hopes it won’t fuck everything up. Marlene has dreams to achieve and no time to spare.

Dorcas is currently sick to her stomach. She hasn’t slept a wink last night and she regrets it very much. She should have listened to Cissa and Reg. She should have taken her sleep medicine, just as her doctor said. But it’s too late now for regrets. She has to get out of this bathroom stall, take a deep breath and meet her new team. Well, not really her team. But the team, nonetheless. She’s not really a team person. Hence the solo sport choice and solo career.

Being alone means there’s no one to blame but yourself when things don’t go your way.
Standing by herself on the ice once was her favourite feeling in the world. Now it only makes her feel miserable. Ugh and here it goes. She takes a deep breath in and fights the tears that are already pressing against her eyelids. She knows damn well she told everyone she was ready for this but maybe she was lying to herself. Maybe she’s not ready. Maybe she shouldn’t have agreed to this. But she can’t back down. Not now. If she gives up, everyone will be so pissed at her. Especially Minerva and Horace. They already wasted so much time on her… There are people counting on her. Waiting for her to get herself together and get out of this fucking bathroom stall.

She pushes the door and her mouth quivers a bit when she catches her reflection in the mirror. She had been avoiding them for so long, she had almost forgotten her own face. She hates the person looking back at her. With her perfect face of makeup and grown-up hairdo. Pandora and her spent hours on these braids, the past week. And yet, she wishes she could take everything down and start again. She has a bit of a perfectionism issue, maybe. Her therapist told her they’d work on it. But they have other things to work on right now. It’s been four years and Dorcas’ still a mess. It’s kind of embarrassing. She’s supposed to be over it. Sure, she stopped skating but she found other things she likes. She’s got her psychology degree and worked hard for it. She worked hard to be here today. Aurora Sinistra was kind enough to welcome her into her team. She has to be worthy of everyone’s expectations. Dorcas shakes her head, turn her eyes and forget about her face before leaving the room.

The kind receptionist told her to go directly to the gym. The problem is she doesn’t know where it’s supposed to be and she doesn’t have the heart to go back and ask. The whole complex is a bit of a maze and it’s already a miracle she’s been able to find the loo without getting lost. She glances around and tries going in a direction and then another before finally spotting someone. Surely an athlete as she’s in a workout outfit, an half empty water bottle in hand and long blonde hair messily pile on top of her head. Dorcas takes another deep breath and then approach the girl. From closer, she looks around her age or maybe even younger.

“Hello, can I ask you something?” she tries to sound confident and nice and not-at-all-stressed-out-of-her-fucking-mind. She probably fails because the girl looks at her with a weird look. “Hum, I’m looking for the gym?”

That’s when the athlete’s eyes go wide and lets out a surprised exclamation, “Fuck me you’re Dorcas Meadowes!” she’s not even pretending to be listening to her question.

Trying hard to ignore the crippling anxiety, Dorcas smiles politely. “Hum, yes. I am. I’m sorry but I really must be at the gym right now…”

“Oh, fuck, yes, of course!” the girl nods frantically and turns around, seemingly a bit lost herself at first. She turns around a bit before gesturing Dorcas to follow as she walks in the direction where she came from. “So… What are you doing here?” she looks over her shoulder and tries to ask nonchalantly. It doesn’t help that her eyes are still looking a bit crazy, right now. Should Dorcas be afraid? Maybe she’s taking her to a deserted area to kill her…

“I’m sorry but it’s confidential.” It’s not quite true but it’s the easy way out when someone asks her anything. As always, it works.

“Oh, I get it! I totally do! With you disappearing and everything!”

“Yeah, exactly,” she nods and fights the urge to run away as soon as possible. Thankfully, they soon arrive in front of the gym and the girl gets the door, gallantly keeping it open for her to pass first. Once again, she politely smiles and then enters the room. It’s a very spacious open space with lots of machines and, currently, lots of people. Way more than Dorcas has been used to be around in the past four years. She can already feel her heartbeat increasing. But she’s been prepared for this. She worked on herself and can do it. Breathe in. You got this. Breathe out. You’re alright.

Miss Sinistra is there, thank God. Dorcas doesn’t wait a moment and makes her way directly to her. She’ll be able to use her as her shield for now. Or so she hopes. The coach probably catches her from the corner of her eye because she’s meeting her halfway, at the centre of the room. They exchange a brief handshake before the woman turn and promptly call for her players. The shout surprises Dorcas. She jumps a bit and tries her best to remain calm as the athletes stop what they’re doing and come around the two of them. There’s a lot of them. More than twenty, at least. The girl from before is there, obviously, nudging another one with her elbow and making less-than-discreet signs in her direction. Great.

When she agreed to this, Dorcas foolishly believed none of these people would know or remember her. Sure, she was quite famous at her peak but it’s been years since. Most of Olympics champions are just a moment in time. Especially when they leave the whole sport only four years after their victory. Sure, there are still people talking about her on internet, here and there. Mostly figure skating fans who loves secrets and mysteries. Mostly nostalgic people. But other athletes shouldn’t be concerned with her. Shouldn’t remember her. Especially when they weren’t in the same circles. Sure, all of them are skating on British ice and under the Great Britain flag but that’s as far as similarities go. Nevertheless, she can see recognitions in some of these people’s eyes. They look at her and see someone they remember. It’s terrifying. She hates it. She wants to leave. The coach starts speaking.

“Right, ladies, the cat’s out of the bag. Please stop gawking at her like animals. I’m sure most of you already recognized her but I’ll let her introduce herself,” her voice’s a bit cold and very intimidating. Dorcas feels the need to obey her immediately. She swallows and then smile just like she’s used to, for the camera. For other people.

“Hello everyone, I’m Dorcas Meadowes. You might know me as one of the Olympics champions from eight years ago. I’ll be joining you on your journey. You can see me as someone to lean on when you have questions or doubts,” she repeated this speech over and over and over. She knows it by heart. She still has her people skills from her past life, apparently. It’s reassuring. “I went through the same things you’re going through now and I know it can be intimidating or frightening. That’s why I’m here to help you.”

The girls around her nods and smiles back at her and they all seem happy enough with what she said. Thankfully. The coach adds something about going to her office and dismisses them before she gestures to Dorcas to follow her. She tries to ignore their bustling chatter as they leave the gym. Aurora, she asked her to use her first name, shows her around the building. The whole complex is actually huge but when she understands that each floor has only one element to it, everything becomes easier.

The ground floor is for the reception, where she arrived, and the mess hall. There’s apparently a cantina but it’s not open every day. Athletes can choose to eat there or outside as long as they’re paying mind to what they’re eating. First floor is the gym and locker rooms. For theirs and opposing teams. Second floor is a bit tricky. That’s, technically, where you have to go to get to the rink if you’re a visitor but its entry for the team is actually situated on the ground floor. Third floor is where she’ll get her own space as it’s there that the offices for staff members are.

Coaches, management and diverse physicians. A few people are there when they arrive. Always more people. Right. Dorcas starts smiling again as she’s introduced to them. Nine new people in total.

First, the other assistant coaches, James and Amos. Both of them are young and full of energy, seeing how they’re always doing something even when they’re just standing. James is pretty tall with round glasses and an everlasting grin. He’s juggling with apples as he’s talking. Amos, smaller but not less buff, is fidgeting with some sort of Rubik’s cube in his hands and nods every time someone says anything. His neck must be really strong.

After them, it’s Frank, the team manager and communications supervisor. He’s the person everyone talks to, apparently. Medias, other teams managers, Olympics committee and such. Dorcas’ not sure of the extent of his job but he’s easy-going and she decides to believe that whatever he’s doing is useful. Next to him, his assistant, Remus. Tall and kind of pretty. That’s the first thing that came to Dorcas’ mind when she saw him. He has a soothing vibe she likes. She can see herself gravitating around him the most. He’s quiet but there’s kindness in his eyes. His hands are tightly gripping at a clipboard.

Then there are the physicians, Poppy, Lily and Sybill. A trio formed by an older woman with round eyes and a friendly face, (she shook her hand in a very soft manner) and two younger girls. The first has flaming red hair and the prettiest green eyes Dorcas ever seen. The latter is crawling under a huge shawl. She smells strongly of chamomile tea. Lily starts ranting about helping Dorcas with everything and being ready to show her around if needed. She politely smiles at the offer.

Lastly, Peter and Benjy, the equipment guys. Benjy introduces them both as if they were one person. The other guy only offers her a shy “Hello” before taking his leave, disappearing almost as quickly as he appeared. No one seems to find it weird so Dorcas doesn’t think much of it. She knows firsthand it’s not always easy to deal with people. She wonders if it was the first and only time she would see him.

Everyone here seems alright to her. The staff is welcoming and, even if it’s a bit overwhelming, they all act nice towards her. She continues smiling just like she rehearsed as she’s taken to her own little office, right next to the managers’ one. There’s a plaque with her name on it on the door and inside, a desk, two chairs and even a little couch. As if whoever arranged this room tried to replicate a cliché therapist office. There are flowers on the windowsill and a nice painting of ballerinas on the wall. It’s homely and warm. She’s not sure of why she would need an office but she won’t say no to a private space. It’ll be better to cry here than in a bathroom stall.

The whole complex is not really different from her own old training rink, back in the days. Except that it was smaller and felt like home. Here, it’s only new and uncomfortable. Her therapist would probably say it’s normal since it’s her first day. But she can never imagine coming here and feeling at ease. It’s too big. Even the locker rooms are humongous. Typical as there are more than twenty people using them almost every day. It’s still strange to her.

She’s used to her own little space and her habits. Even if it’s been four years since her last visit, she’s certain it would still feel like home. At least, she hopes so. She would never dare going back just to see if it has changed. Years may have passed but she’s still terrified at the idea of visiting. There are too many things that have been left unattended, in her mind. She’s not yet ready to work on these.

When she’s asked to join the rest of the staff for lunch she can’t refuse. Not on her first day, at least. Exploring the building with Aurora and arranging her stuff with James and Amos felt okay. They’re a bit much to her taste but she would never tell them. Their kindness helped her relax. Even when Sybill spent twenty minutes explaining her how the coffee machine works, she was doing fine. Polite smiles and gentle nods. They’re clearly all curious about her but no one will really ask any invasive questions. She barely spoke all morning, to be honest. It’s easier to listen and all of the people here like to talk.
But thinking about going back to the team makes her want to cry. There’s too many of them. They’re loud and full of energy. It’s tiring. She’s afraid of their whispers. Still, she puts on her business smile and follows the rest of the staff as they chat down to the mess hall. The room is big, as the rest of the building, but most people are sat around the same table. Except for Aurora and Poppy and a few other players. Still, nearly all the tables are empty.
She takes whatever they recommend her and sits down, next to Lily and opposite to Remus. They’re discussing a book they both loved, arguing about their favourite characters. Dorcas is listening to them when someone settles on the chair right next to hers. It’s that girl. The one who recognized her. She’s not wearing her workout outfit anymore and her hair is down but she still has the same curious eyes. She might be trying to be more subtle but it’s not a big success. They briefly stare at each other in silence before Dorcas turns back to her plate, trying to ignore her gaze still lingering.

“Marls, for fuck sake, leave the poor girl alone!” a voice suddenly orders, sitting not far from them. Alice Fortescue, team captain. From what Dorcas saw, she’s a tall girl with short hair and a huge grin. She’s one of the tallest players, too. Her arms might be the size of Dorcas’ head. If she wasn’t smiling so much she would probably be really intimidating.

After staring a bit longer at her teammate with a very knowing look, she turns to Dorcas, “I’m sorry for her behaviour. Don’t mind Marlene. She’s just your biggest fan!”

“Oh?” Dorcas lets out, a bit surprised, at the same time as the girl, Marlene, turns bright red and shouts, “Ha! Don’t listen to her! She’s a total liar! I’m not that big of a fan!”

“No McKinnon. We won’t let you off the hook so easily,” interjects James, a mischievous grin on the face. He looks over at Dorcas and beams, “She knows all of your programs by heart! She tried to replicate a few of them after practices!”

“That’s true. She even has a playlist of all the songs you used to skate on,” adds Frank, barely holding back his laughter. They must all be close given the way they easily tease her.
Dorcas rarely acknowledged anyone other than her coaches when she was still training. On good days, she would say hi to her friends but that was it. The atmosphere here is really, really different from what she’s used to. She must admit it takes her a bit aback.

“At last year’s gala she wore a dress that looked like the one you wore at the Olympics,” continues one athlete sitting on the other side of Marlene. She’s a pretty girl with curly brown hair and a face full of beauty marks.

“Shut up! All of you!” Marlene sighs and let her head fall next to her plate. It’s a tad dramatic, in Dorcas’ opinion, but she won’t say it. She wonders if the girl knows some of her hair touched her food… Maybe she should tell her…

Instead, she shrugs lightly and brings back her business smile, “It’s nice to meet a fan after all this time. I’m not used to it anymore, you’ll excuse me.”

“I’m your fan, too!” shouts another athlete, from down the table. She’s taller than most and her long black hair are tied in a single braid falling down her back. When Dorcas looks at her, she winks and the girl next to her rolls her eyes.

“Emmeline don’t steal little Marley’s girl,” adds the latter. Her voice is soft but she has a bit of a mean snarl on her face and she’s pointing her forks towards the black-haired girl. Emmeline Vance, then. Currently one of the best goalkeepers in the world. Dorcas heard about her.

“Ladies. Stop being such animals. You’re making miss Meadowes uncomfortable, can’t you see?” calls Aurora from another table where she’s eating with miss Poppy. It’s all it takes for the excitation to die down. The athletes’ chatters resume to a background buzzing and no one adds anything to this conversation. Thanks god.

The rest of this first meal goes smoothly from there. A few other people introduce themselves to Dorcas. There’s Florence Greengrass and Evelyn Zabini, both very intimidating but seemingly nice. If you can go past their piercing gazes. She already knows of Alice and her co-captain, Molly Prewett. She might have been appointed at this position because of how perfectly she balances Alice’s energy. If one is lively and a bit rowdy, the other talks softly and offers only kind smiles. And, just like Emmeline, she heard about Amelia Bones in a sport podcast. She’s sort of the public’s sweetheart. Dorcas understands why when, right after sitting down, the girl starts talking with absolutely everyone near her. She’s bright and nice and a literal social butterfly, jumping from one conversation to another with ease. She must love medias days.

Another girl named Lucinda starts asking her a few questions but eventually gives up when Dorcas only answer with polite smiles and excuses of confidentiality. It’s her go-to way to avoid certain kind of topics. Her sudden absence is one of them. If she says it’s under NDA then people won’t ask further. Sure, they’ll wonder why the fuck her disappearance needed an NDA. But she’d rather have them think about it than ask about it.

And then, there’s Marlene McKinnon, allegedly her biggest fan. It explains her reaction when she first approached her. The girl must have freaked out. It should be heartwarming but Dorcas only feels uneasy about it. She doesn’t want anyone to put her on any kind of pedestal only because of her past. She’s over it and so should other people. Except she’s not really over it and it still hurts and she still cries herself to sleep most nights. Ugh. Not now. Breathe in. Breathe out. Magazine smile. Breathe in. People smile. Breathe out. Alright. She can survive this. Marlene stopped looking at her every five seconds and is now debating something with James. They’re talking about fishes or something like that… Dorcas goes back to her meal, only looking up when someone addresses her directly.

Marlene succeeded to stay mostly quiet and composed during the morning training and lunch but, as soon as they get to the locker-room for the afternoon practice, she freaks-the-fuck-out. She can’t believe it. She’s still somehow persuaded it’s all a joke. Maybe a camera crew will appear and reveal it was all a prank for some show they’re shooting. What the fuck is Dorcas Meadowes doing here if it’s not a joke? It can’t be true! Like, her idol is there! They’re breathing the same air! The girl she spent years thinking about ate the same meal as her! What the fuck?

“I sat next to Dorcas Meadowes!” she tells Mary while getting changed. “I ate next Dorcas Meadowes! She knows my name! She acknowledged me! She even looked at me! And smiled! Her smile is so pretty… She’s literally so pretty! Pictures don’t do her justice! She’s way better in real life.”

“I saw. I was there,” is her best friend’s blank answer. She’s not that much impressed. To her, it’s just another coach. Another athlete like them. She’s never been into figure skating. She doesn’t care for pretty pirouettes and funny-named jumps. What the fuck is a salchow and why would she care?

“You don’t get it! She’s a legend!”

“Yeah, I don’t get it,” Mary offers her a smile and a shake of her head. Marlene sighs, struggling to put on her shin pads. Maybe she should get her gear replaced now that she thinks about it. Some parts are really old and, even if it’s only for practice, she wants to look good in front of her idol. And with the Olympics approaching, it wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Sure, they’re getting new jersey anyway but still… What about pretty green socks to match Dorcas’ iconic green dress from her Prokofiev program?

“She doesn’t seem hurt or anything,” Emmeline’s voice brings her back on earth. She’s standing next to her, absentmindedly lacing her skates. “I guess she really just quit because of the pressure.”

“I’m pretty sure I heard someone say it was because she used drugs. Like, too much, if you catch my drift,” Lucinda chimes in, always wanting to take part in gossips. If someone’s got a secret you can be sure she will know about it to some extent. “When I asked her about it, she told me it was confidential. Must be something really extreme. Maybe a murder.”

“If I took lots of drugs and only made it to the bronze, I’d be pretty done too,” comments Doris, hands pressed on her knees. She’s one of the newest recruits but also one of the older players. Marlene doesn’t have anything against her but, somehow, she gets easily on her nerves. She always tries to sound smart while spouting generic stuff. She’s such a gobby.

“If she had killed someone she wouldn’t be there, wanker,” Emma doesn’t even try to hide her laughter. Lucinda gets up and makes a face at her friend, rolling her eyes.

“No, you got it all wrong!” Bellatrix sighs dramatically and Marlene almost lets out an annoyed sounf. If Doris is a tad annoying then Bella is absolutely insufferable. “I heard from my sister, Narcissa, that she jumped another skater after her first games. Her coach paid lots of money to keep it under wraps.”

“Don’t lie, Bella,” Andromeda glares at her sister. Their whole family is in the skating industry. The two of them have been playing hockey in different teams until the Olympic drafting. Their sister is a well-known figure skater, just like their two cousins. They also have an uncle coaching young talents. Everyone knows that the name Black has a lot of power. “Cissa never said she assaulted anyone. You heard that from some shitty podcast on YouTube.”

“You don’t know anything, Andy!” she claps back at her sister and they start bickering. Everyone else know better than trying to intervene in their business. It’s too much trouble. It happens at least five times a day. Often, Bella will say something mean to someone and Andromeda will scold her. Then, they’ll start arguing. It never lasts. At the end, every conflict resolves itself by the end of the day.

“I don’t think we should discuss anything about her when she could be right on the other side of the door, anyway,” Hestia is always the most level-headed one when it comes to gossips. She’s afraid of hurting people’s feelings. Thankfully she’s not as soft on the ice. If she were, she wouldn’t be in the starting lineup.

“Hestia’s right. Dorcas is part of the team, now. So, we’ll treat her just as such. And, in this team, we respect privacy. Is that clear?” Alice glances around the room, looking pointedly at Lucinda and Bellatrix, waiting for any complaints or protest. There’s none. Everyone listens to her. She’s not the captain only in name. Everyone in this room respects her.

They calm down and finish getting changed mostly peacefully, only interrupted by bits of chatters and some bickering. As they usually do. There’s no animosity on the team. Sure, some people don’t really like each other. Like Marlene and Bella or Charity and Bertha. Heck, even sweet Molly has a problem with Amelia’s attitude. Their personalities are quite different. But they’re professional athletes. When it comes to their careers, they’re all really serious about it. They all share the same belief. They need each other to win so they’ll put their differences aside and work together for the greater good. It doesn’t mean they’re not fighting in the locker-room after bad games or shouting at each other when they feel pissed.
More than once, Marlene slapped, literally, some sense into one of her teammates. Fights happen. But most of the time, they’re courteous and mature. And it works. Or else, they wouldn’t be standing there, on the starting line for the Olympics. They all worked so hard to be here. They won’t let anyone jeopardise this chance.