Ice - Thirty-two A

[fenora]

Title: Ice
Author: fenora
Pairing: Belldom
Rating: R
Summary: AU story about figure skating.
Disclaimers: I don't own Matt or Dom and some figure skaters I will mention as I write about them. The others are original.

Thanks: To dolce_piccante and butter_cup01 for beta-ing and for the support. To mjartrod for helping me SO MUCH with details about figure skating, without her help this story would never be so accurate and realistic ;). And of course to everyone who's been reading and commenting! Thank you!

A/N: Gah! This is getting huge! I never thought it would have more than 25 chapters, let alone 30... I hope it's not getting boring, but 32 will be the last anyway, even though I think I'm going to have to split it in 3 parts... It's getting enormous!

( Twenty-five B)


Thirty-two A

Vancouver.

I’d never thought I would be flying over this city, almost landing, at this time of my life. Well, it’s not like I planned it for when I was middle aged or something either. It’s fantastic to figure out these surprises that life brings to everyone. To me in this case.

“It’s rather beautiful isn’t it?” Matt asks close to my ear, peeking over me since I’m the one sitting next to the window. This has been by far the longest flight of my life and I have to admit I was a bit afraid at first, but I relaxed almost as soon as we took off. I couldn’t sleep though; I’m not sure if it was because of the exciting, the subconscious fear or simply because I enjoyed looking at the Ocean, watching the sunset and stuff like that. It’s about ten o’clock in Vancouver so it’s night already and I’m mesmerized by the city lights beneath us.

“It’s...big! So many lights, it’s incredible.”

“It was a shame that we didn’t get to fly at night when we were in Paris; they don’t call it the city of light for nothing.” He chuckles. The bastard slept almost through the entire flight! I didn’t do anything to wake him up anyway, but that meant I had to simply stare at the immense Atlantic Ocean since I had no one to talk to. When we land we’ll go straight to the hotel anyway, so I guess I’ll have plenty of time to sleep during the local night time.

“Maybe we have to return then.” I say cheekily, looking at him and winking. Matt shakes his head and chuckles, his eyes turning back to the window to stare at the city lights. He sighs deeply and I instantly know what’s in his mind. Well, nothing else has been in his mind for the last few weeks anyway. This is it. The final destination. It may sound quite fatalist but that’s how Matt’s looking at it. Sure there’s still Worlds, and possibly more seasons ahead of him but this maybe his only chance to win the Olympics. He will be twenty-five during the next games; it’s not old but in skating four years is a lifetime and who knows what will happen until then. There’s the possibility of injuries, there will be plenty of hungry figure skaters, with a lot to give, so this is kind of his only opportunity. At least that’s how he sees it. This season, he’s the young, hungry skater, who believes he can win and conquer the world.

“We’ll be landing very soon.” He murmurs. He means I’ll have to face everything very soon.

“Come here.” I extend my arm around his shoulders as he automatically shifts closer to me and lays his head on my shoulder, still staring at the city, even though he’s not thinking about the beauty of it from up here. “Thanks for asking me to come with you.” I finally say.

“It’s for my own good. You know I’m selfish, I wouldn’t ask you just for your own pleasure.” He snorts and I just chuckle at his words, trying to bring him even closer.

He caught me by surprise, actually. Secretly, I was hoping he would ask, but when he finally did, I couldn’t believe it. I mean, it’s one hell of a thing to come to a faraway country like this to support him. And I’ll get to watch the games live and all. I have to admit that I would have gone crazy at home, always wanting to know how he’s dealing with pressure, if he’s hanging on well, how he’s truly feeling... Because I know he’ll always be fine in front the cameras and even on the ice, his appearance won’t let out one tenth of the nervousness he will be feeling inside. Matt truly is the phantom of the ice, he wears a thick mask and only during moments like Worlds last year people get a glimpse of the real him. Maybe here in Vancouver, if he wins, the audience will have the pleasure to see the real Matthew Bellamy again, more strongly than ever.

*

When we arrive at the hotel it’s already past midnight, but it’s early morning in the U.K. so the jet-lag is already having some effect on us. Anyway, since I didn’t sleep in the plane I’m pretty tired, so I could really use a nice comfy bed right now.

Unfortunately Matt and I cannot share a room this time. I mean, I totally understand, I know that if it depended on him he wouldn’t mind at all, but his coach wouldn’t approve for sure. It’s not like she doesn’t trust us but she doesn’t want to risk anything, he has a strict schedule to follow. Mrs. Bowel didn’t mind at all that I came along, in fact she seemed quite happy about it, probably because she thinks I have some kind of a positive effect on Matt and she also knows that he will have his ups and down while being here and I may help with that, especially with the downs. However, when we were discussing rooms she gave us that look and we didn’t even discuss it. Maybe it’s better this way though, there’s no temptation. It’s very uncommon for athletes to share rooms with significant others while on competitions; they usually stay with another member of the team though or alone if they prefer so. Also, it could bring up suspicions, because the press is centred on Matt right now and it’s not the best time for that...there will be many gossip as it is. I’m pretty happy with our quiet life, away from the public eye.

So, Matt’s going to share a room with James and I’ll stay in my own single room, which at least is on the same floor.

“You look like you could fall asleep on the middle of the corridor, Dom.” James says amusedly as the three of us make our way to our respective rooms.

“Believe me, I could. I should have made an effort to sleep on the plane. I don’t think I’ll be able to wake up early tomorrow.”

“I told you so.” Matt remarks. “408, that’s us.”

“Right.” James quickly opens the door with the key card and turns to me. “G’night, Dom.”

“Good night.” He disappears into the room and I turn to Matt with a tired smile. “And you...” I grab his hand pulling him closer to me, his suitcase forgotten behind him. “Sleep tight.” I whisper against his lips before kissing him leisurely.

“You too.” He says as we pull apart. “Wish I could go with you, but-“

“Hush. I know, Matt.” He smiles and nods leaning forward to peck my lips. “See you tomorrow.” He winks and steps back, grabbing his suitcase.

“Yeah, see you.” He winks and gets into the room, closing the door behind him. My room is a few doors ahead, so within a few seconds, I’m already inside it. It looks quite good for a hotel room. With a thud I sit down on the bed and distractedly run a hand over it. It’s good to be here...

Despite my tiredness, I feel the need to take a shower unpack a few things now, at least the items I need in the bathroom and some clothes for tomorrow. I turn on the TV to have some background noise while I do that. It’s kind of a news channel but that doesn’t really matter. Since I was little I always disliked total silence, so it’s quite common for me to turn on the TV on a random channel while I’m doing something else.

Suddenly, something catches my attention and I completely stop what I’m doing to glance at the TV. It’s kind of a debate I think, there’s an interviewer and three men around a table and they’re discussing the Olympics. Luckily they’re speaking in English, Vancouver’s first language, and not French. Right now they’re discussing snowboard but that could change into figure skating at any second: I recognise Canadian Kurt Browning, a huge champion of skating in the nineties, sitting there with them.

Bingo!

“Now, for another news, the English figure skating team has arrived tonight.” The journalist announces. “Matthew Bellamy is certainly the golden boy of that team. So, what do you expect from him here in Vancouver, Kurt?”

“We’re talking about a fantastic athlete here, very complete, very artistic. The audience loves him no matter where he skates and no doubt he will have a huge support from our Canadian fans. But he’s very young and handling the pressure will be easier for more experienced skaters like Plushenko and even Joubert who’s been around for a while and who’s going to give everything for a Gold Medal.” My hands automatically turn into fists. I mean, he’s right in what he’s saying but... argh! But nothing, I know. “But everything is possible and Bellamy is in a great shape.”

“He’s the European Champion after all.” The interviewer comments.

“Yes, and he beat Joubert there easily. Like I said, this is a very competitive year, there’s a lot of talent in figure skating world nowadays... We also have our own Patrick Chan who is a strong contender in my point of view.”

“I believe it will depend a lot on the short program.” Another man I don’t recognize says. “If Bellamy performs a clean short program, if he gets the first place on the rank after it, I think it will be difficult to beat him in the long program.”

“I think the main issue here is whether he will be able to deal with the pressure or not.” Kurt Browning continues. “He has the best programs of the field this year, Jane McCarthy did a wonderful job with the choreography, he also has a quad now... in my opinion if he skates his best he is unbeatable. But let’s face it, it’s the first time he finds himself as a favourite in an event of this magnitude. It’s like a psychological game. But at the same time, he is always very focused and confident on ice, and that’s a quality of winners.” Yes! Yes, it is. But on the inside, Matt’s living a turmoil like never before. He has never experienced such nerves and pressure but so far he’s dealing with it quite well. I just hope that doesn’t change because it could be fatal.

“And Plushenko. He has the big name, he has medals, but what exactly can we expect from this comeback?”

I stop listening when they change the subject and take a deep breath. These people, who know what they’re talking about, they believe him. They’re aware (like I am) that it’s a lot of pressure on him, but I also think he can handle it.

When I’m about to return to my earlier task, Matt’s name catches my attention again.

It’s the third guy, the one that hasn’t talked yet. “And Patrick Chan certainly has that charisma even off ice. People love his talent but they also fall in love with his funny way sometimes and he’s always nice to his fans.” I don’t have an opinion about that to be honest. I’ve never met the guy. But this commentator is clearly saying that because Chan is Canadian! These guys should be impartial but no... they have to go and say great things about their own athletes just to try to make the other look less good in comparison. “And on the contrary, I believe Bellamy’s been accused in the past of being distant and not very approachable.”

That’s because you don’t know him! And he’s usually very cool with his fans... And anyway, what does that have to do with anything? Will that change what he does on the ice? No! So just shut up already.

“I think that’s nothing but a defence mechanism, but he sure has a very strong personality.” Kurt speaks again. “I’ve met him before a few times and he struck me as such a nice guy. I wish him nothing but the best.” I love this guy.

The conversation turns to Joubert now, and whether he’ll be able to take the medal home or not. At this I turn off the TV. If I keep listening to this I will get nervous myself and I simply can’t. I didn’t come here so that Matt could feel my own nervousness, I came here to help keeping him sane as good as I can.

*

Finally the big day has arrived, the day when it all begins. I mean, Matt is not going to skate today or anything, but it’s the opening ceremony.

Of course this is nothing like those enormous Summer Games ceremonies, but it’s quite big in its own way. I’m sitting next to Mrs. McCarthy and the rest of the people from the UK that came along with the teams. With a small smile, I enjoy the show of lights and colour and beautiful music. Since this is Winter Olympics, the show has various allusions to snow and ice interlaced with amazing choreographer by everyone who’s performing.

Even though this is all very beautiful, I cannot wait to finally see the teams. I know Mrs. McCarthy is hiding something, and I have one suspicion about what it might be, I’ve heard rumours too, but I’ve decided to wait before forming my own definite conclusions.

Finally, after one final song which was sung live by a Canadian couple, the teams are about to start parading. The Greek team is the first, and even though it’s not the home team, there’s a major applause from the audience maybe because it’s the first but probably also because Greece is simply the country where the Olympics started. Whenever a new team comes in it’s thrilling to see the ones who support it standing up and clapping like maniacs. I love to see crowds reacting to their home teams, it always sounds so genuine and it comes right from the heart. I can’t stop taking pictures of everything, this is all too enthusiastic.

After what seems like a million countries, it’s finally time for the British team. Mrs. McCarthy shifts on her seat and I turn to her with a small smile.

The moment they start appearing down there, my suspicions are confirmed.

Matt is leading the team, carrying the flag.

A huge smile breaks on my face and a shiver runs down my spine at the sight. He’s really far so I can’t see his face properly but I can almost feel his pride and joy. The other members wave at the audience and take several pictures, following Matt to their place next to the other teams.

Mrs. McCarthy links her arm with mine and even with all the noise, I catch her long sigh. “It’s my boy over there, Dom. Carrying the flag.”

“Did you...did you ever think he’d make it this far?” I dare to ask. It’s a dumb question, like Matt would put it, but I couldn’t help it.

“I had my suspicions.” She chuckles. “But he’s certainly surprised me over the years. Despite everything he made it this far. It’s his merit.”

“I’m sure he has a lot to thank to you and your family. And Mrs. Bowell.”

“It’s his talent and passion.” That settles it.

They finally make it to their place and stay there until the very last team makes its appearance. All the while, even though I want to see the others, I find it difficult to tear my eyes away from Matt. It’s stupid but, even though I already took many pictures, I kind of forgot about my camera the moment I laid my eyes on Matt. That has to change though... With the thought in mind, I manage to capture this moment for posterity the best I (and my shitty camera) can.

After the Canadian team, the host, ends the teams parade, it’s time to light up the Olympic torch, the highlight of the night. Everyone’s eyes are turned to the torch, waiting for it to light up, which officially symbolizes the beginning of the games.

When the fire becomes alive, everyone stands up, applauding and whistling. There it is, the beginning.

Let us hope that it is the beginning of a dream.