Ceilings

The locker room was alive with pre-game energy: shouts of encouragement, the clatter of sticks, the buzz of nervous laughter. But Vi sat in silence, her earbuds in, staring blankly at the laces of her skates as she tied and retied them with unnecessary precision. The muffled roar of the arena beyond the locker room doors only added to the pressure coiling in her chest. This wasn’t just another game. it was critical, and she couldn’t shake the weight of everything pressing down on her.

Her teammates were a blur of noise and motion around her, but Vi felt disconnected, like she was behind glass. Powder wasn’t home. It had been weeks now, and the silence from her little sister was gnawing at her nerves. Every time her phone buzzed, she hoped it was Vander saying she was okay, but it never was. She tried not to dwell on it, telling herself that Powder was probably just having a slow healing process. But deep down, she couldn’t help but feel like she’d failed her again.

And then there was Caitlyn.

Vi tightened her jaw as she yanked on her gear, trying to shut out the memory of Caitlyn’s face in the dance studio. The words Caitlyn had thrown at her still echoed in her mind, each one hitting like a slap. She doesn’t want anything to do with her anymore. Vi had replayed the moment a thousand times, searching for any sign that Caitlyn hadn’t meant it, but the look in her eyes was impossible to forget. Cold. Final.

Her fists clenched, the tape around her stick creaking under the pressure. No texts, no emails, nothing. Caitlyn had really cut her off for good, and the sting of it left Vi feeling raw and hollow. She hadn’t even realized how much she’d come to rely on Caitlyn, on her late night messages, her quiet encouragement, her presence. Now, it was just... gone. And Vi didn’t even know why.

She exhaled sharply, leaning back against the cold metal of her locker. She couldn’t afford to think about Caitlyn right now. Not with a game this big. But no matter how hard she tried to focus, her thoughts spiraled. The season was well underway, and she still hadn’t heard from a single college scout. Lots of players had already received offers or at least interest, but Vi? Nothing. Every passing day made it harder to convince herself that it wasn’t personal. Maybe they saw her as too reckless. Too much of a risk. Maybe she just wasn’t good enough.

“Vi, you good?” Her friend's voice broke through her haze. She was leaning against the lockers, her usual cocky grin absent. “You’ve been quiet.”

“I’m fine,” she muttered, not meeting her eyes.

“Sure doesn’t look like it.” She hesitated, then added, “We need you out there. You know that, right?”

Vi nodded, though the words felt heavy. She knew she needed to step up, to shake off everything weighing her down and just play. But her head was a mess, and her heart felt like it was in pieces.

“Alright, well... don’t psych yourself out,” Her friend said awkwardly before retreating to join the rest of the team.

Vi sat there for another moment, her hands trembling slightly as she adjusted her helmet. This game was everything. The team was counting on her, the scouts might actually be watching, and the stakes were higher than ever. But all she could think about was how much she wished Powder was in the stands, cheering her on. How much she wished Caitlyn was still in her corner.

She stood abruptly, the scrape of her skates against the floor loud in the otherwise bustling locker room. Her fists clenched at her sides as she made her way to the door, blocking out everything but the game ahead. Whatever was going on in her life, whatever was falling apart, she had to leave it behind for now.

But as the door opened and the roar of the crowd hit her, Vi couldn’t help but glance toward the stands, her chest tightening with the faint hope that someone, anyone, would be there for her tonight.

Vi knew exactly why the stands felt emptier than they should have. It wasn’t because her family didn’t care, they always showed up when it mattered. But for almost two weeks now, she’d been pushing them away. It was easier that way, or at least that’s what she told herself.

She’d been so reserved, so quiet, so not herself that even her loud, boisterous family didn’t know how to handle it. Mylo had tried cracking his usual jokes, Claggor had offered to hang out more, and even Vander had sat her down once to ask if everything was alright. Vi had brushed them all off, her responses curt and uninviting. She couldn’t bring herself to let them in, not when she was barely holding herself together.

And Powder. She’d stopped accepting visits days ago. The absence of her little sister’s voice felt like a weight on Vi’s chest every time she walked through the door. She’d hurt her family, and for what? To wallow in the pain of being blocked, shut out, and cast aside by someone who meant more to her than she ever realized?

Vi had spent so long being the glue that held everything together. The strong one, the brave one, the one who kept going no matter what. But lately, she felt like she was coming apart at the seams. And the worst part was, she didn’t know how to stop it.

As she stepped onto the ice and took her position, the noise of the crowd did little to drown out the thoughts screaming in her head. She wanted to blame Caitlyn for all of it, for cutting her off, for making her feel like this, for leaving her to deal with the fallout alone. But deep down, she knew that wasn’t fair. None of this was Caitlyn’s fault. It was her own stupid heart that had gotten too attached, too hopeful, too reckless.

Vi shook her head, forcing the thoughts away as the puck dropped. She couldn’t afford to think about any of it now. The team was counting on her, and she wasn’t about to let them down, not tonight. Even if she felt like she was falling apart inside, on the outside, she’d be the Vi they all expected. Strong. Unshakable. Determined. For as long as the game lasted, she’d pretend everything was fine.
But as the first play unfolded and she raced down the ice, the emptiness in the stands lingered in her mind, a constant reminder of how much she’d lost and how far she still had to go to get any of it back.

Memories hit her like she was running into a brick wall face first.

—------------

The rink was quieter than usual that morning, with only the hum of the Zamboni in the background and the soft shuffle of other skaters packing up. Caitlyn and Vi sat side by side on the benches, untying their skates. The warmth of the heated locker area seeped into their cheeks, but the faint chill from the rink still clung to their clothes.

Vi, as usual, was a whirlwind of energy, her grin as infectious as ever. She tugged at the laces of her skates with a practiced ease, throwing a glance Caitlyn's way. "So, After I snuck out, did your mom discover you’re hanging out with such a bad influence, or do I just get to be your dirty little secret?"

Caitlyn’s fingers faltered on her laces, and her ears burned a furious red. “You’re not…” She cleared her throat, determined to sound unaffected. “You’re not a bad influence.”

Vi snorted. “That wasn’t a denial about the dirty little secret part, though.”

Caitlyn’s blush deepened, and she huffed. “Stop putting words in my mouth.”

Vi leaned back, kicking off her skates with exaggerated ease. She tilted her head, letting her messy hair fall into her face as she gave Caitlyn a playful smirk. “Can’t help it. You’re just so fun to mess with.”

Caitlyn refused to look at her, focusing intently on her stubborn laces. “Messing with me isn’t going to improve your hockey skills, you know.”

“Oh, but it improves my mood. That’s just as important,” Vi teased, reaching over to lightly tap Caitlyn’s shoulder. “Hey, I’ve gotta keep you on your toes somehow. Ice princesses like you don’t get flustered easily, right?”

“I’m not flustered,” Caitlyn shot back a little too quickly.

Vi raised an eyebrow, her grin widening. “Uh huh. Sure, Cait. Your face is just naturally the color of a tomato, then?”

Caitlyn groaned, hiding her face behind her hands for a brief moment before continuing to untie her skates. She didn’t have a witty comeback, which only seemed to encourage Vi further.

“So,” Vi said after a beat, her tone softening slightly. “How’d you even get into skating anyway? You’re scary good, I don’t even understand how people expect you to be better.”

Caitlyn hesitated for a moment, the playful tension between them easing. “My mom signed me up when I was really little. It was supposed to help with discipline and focus or something. But I ended up loving it.”

Vi nodded, resting her arms on her knees as she listened. “And now you’re, what? Shooting for the Olympic champion?”

Caitlyn nodded, her voice quieter now. “Yeah. It’s a lot of pressure, but it’s worth it. Or... it’s supposed to be.”

Vi tilted her head. “Supposed to be?”

Caitlyn shrugged, not meeting Vi’s gaze. “Sometimes I wonder if I love skating or if I love the idea of succeeding at it. If I stopped, I don’t think my mom would ever forgive me.”

Vi was silent for a moment before nudging Caitlyn gently with her elbow. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re more than just your skating. You’re smart, you’re funny…”

“I’m not funny,” Caitlyn interrupted, a small smile tugging at her lips despite herself.

Vi grinned. “You’re right. You’re hilarious when you’re trying not to be funny.”

Caitlyn rolled her eyes, but her smile lingered.

“Seriously, though,” Vi continued, her tone soft but sincere, “you don’t have to prove anything to anyone, Cait. You’re already pretty amazing just being you.”

Caitlyn froze, her fingers stilling on her laces. For a brief moment, she let herself believe Vi’s words, let herself feel the warmth in them. But just as quickly, she pushed the thought away, focusing back on her skates.

“Thanks,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Vi didn’t press further, instead leaning back and stretching her arms above her head. “Anytime, Cupcake.”

Caitlyn finally got her skates off and stood, grabbing her bag. She glanced at Vi, who was casually tossing her own gear together like it was no big deal.

“Same time Thursday?” Caitlyn asked, her voice more controlled now.

Vi grinned, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

Caitlyn nods, a small smile slipping between her lips. “I'll text you later.”

—------------

Vi’s skates carved deep arcs into the ice as she pushed harder, her body a blur of speed and force. The crowd’s cheers and the sharp ring of skates barely registered in her ears. All she could feel was the roaring fire in her chest, her anger and frustration fueling every reckless play. She slammed into an opposing player, sending them sprawling, and immediately felt her coach’s voice cut through the noise.

“Violet! Keep your head in the game!”

Her jaw clenched as she skated past the bench, ignoring the scolding. She gripped her stick tighter, her vision narrowing in on the puck. She stormed forward, barreling toward the net, but her shot went wide, clanging uselessly against the boards. The missed opportunity twisted in her gut like a knife, but she didn’t slow down. She circled back, her movements sharp and aggressive, weaving through defenders with raw determination.

A sharp pivot brought her face to face with a defender, their stance firm. As she faked left and broke right, another memory slammed into her as forcefully as the collisions she’d been dishing out all game.

—------------

It's one of those brutally early mornings when even Vi, who thrived on action, could barely muster the energy to stay upright. The rink was quiet except for the faint hum of the overhead lights and the crisp sound of Caitlyn’s skates as she glided effortlessly across the ice. Vi leaned on the boards, her water bottle dangling from her hand, stifling a yawn.

“Ready to actually do something, or should I come back when you’ve had your beauty sleep?” Caitlyn called, her voice carrying a teasing edge.

Vi smirked, dragging herself onto the ice. “Bold talk for someone who’s been skating in circles for twenty minutes. Show me something impressive, cupcake.”

Caitlyn rolled her eyes but motioned for Vi to join her at the center. “Fine. Let’s work on crossovers. Your footwork is sloppy, and you’re wasting too much energy.”

“Sloppy? Excuse me, I’m a hockey player, I'm not exactly going for beauty.” Vi shot back, though she skated over anyway.
“And yet you’re the one whose coach is making them get help” Caitlyn retorted, arching an eyebrow. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

She stepped closer, positioning herself behind Vi. The shorter straightened, suddenly hyper aware of Caitlyn’s hands as they settled on her hips.

“Relax,” Caitlyn said, her voice softer now. “You’re too stiff. Shift your weight like this.” She guided Vi’s movements, her hands firm but gentle.

Vi felt her pulse quicken, though she tried to play it cool. “You know, if you wanted to get handsy, you could’ve just said so,” she quipped, glancing back with a grin.

Caitlyn flushed but didn’t let go, her composure barely wavering. “I’m trying to help you, you insufferable flirt. Now focus.”

“Fine, fine,” Vi muttered, though her grin didn’t fade. She mimicked Caitlyn’s movements, letting herself lean into the rhythm she was setting. “You’re good at this,” she admitted after a moment, her voice quieter.

“Obviously,” Caitlyn replied, her tone light but her cheeks still faintly pink. “I’ve been skating since I was a kid. It’s second nature by now.”

“Must be nice,” Vi said, glancing at her again. “Having something you’re that good at.”

Caitlyn’s hands stilled for a moment before she released Vi, stepping back. “Everyone has something they’re good at,” she said, her tone softening. “You just have to find it.”

Vi turned to face her, tilting her head. “What if I’m only good at getting under your skin?”

Caitlyn crossed her arms, but a smile tugged at her lips. “Then I’d say you’ve found your calling.”

They stared at each other for a moment, the teasing fading into something warmer, quieter. Vi broke the silence first, rolling her shoulders and smirking again. “All right, princess, let’s see if I can nail this without you holding my hand the whole time.”

“You’d better, or I’m doubling the drills,” Caitlyn replied, but her smile lingered as Vi skated away.

—------------

The roar of the crowd was deafening, but Vi barely registered it. Her entire focus was on the puck, a few seconds left on the clock. Her teammates shouted frantically, their voices blending into the chaos. She had possession, skating with everything she had, weaving past defenders like her life depended on it.

“Vi! Pass!” one of her teammates yelled, but she didn’t even glance up. This was hers.

The goalie moved into position, crouched and ready. The clock ticked down.

The puck sailed toward the net, her entire body moving with precision and desperation. For a moment, time seemed to slow as it neared the goal. The goalie lunged, the crowd gasped…

and then came the unmistakable clang of the puck hitting the post.

It ricocheted away, harmless, as the buzzer sounded. Game over.

The stands erupted, but not in celebration. Groans and disappointed murmurs filled the air. Vi’s teammates skated toward her, their faces a mix of frustration and fatigue, but she didn’t wait for them.

She skated to the bench, yanked off her helmet, and slammed it onto the ground with a force that echoed. Her stick followed, clattering against the concrete as she stepped off the ice.

Her chest heaved with anger and humiliation. She could feel eyes on her, the crowd, her coach, her team, but she didn’t care. She stalked through the halls without a word, shoving open the first door she came across and finding herself in an empty storage room.
Finally alone, she leaned against the wall, pressing her hands to her face. Her breaths came in sharp, uneven bursts. She could feel tears prickling at the edges of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

She slammed her fist against the wall, the pain grounding her for a moment, but it did nothing to ease the storm inside. "What the hell is wrong with me?" she muttered to the empty room, her voice breaking.

But there was no answer. Just her, the faint hum of the rink outside, and the heavy silence that seemed to press in on her from all sides.

The walls seemed to close in on her. Vi’s breath hitched, shallow and erratic, as her heart thudded painfully in her chest. Her hands trembled at her sides, and she instinctively tried to ground herself, but it only seemed to make things worse. Her mind raced, spiraling into a dark, claustrophobic space where nothing made sense.

Her thoughts collided with each other. Caitlyn's face, the missed shot, the absence of responses, the heavy weight of her isolation. She could hear the echoes of her Coach’s disappointed voice in her head, the quiet judgment of her teammates, and the mocking silence of the empty stands. Everything felt wrong. She was failing, over and over again, and there was no way to escape it.

Her breathing quickened, every inhale too sharp, every exhale too shallow. Her vision blurred at the edges, her skin suddenly clammy and cold. She stumbled, her hands grabbing at her knees as she tried to steady herself, but her body was betraying her. It felt like she was falling through the ground, spiraling down into an endless abyss.

Her pulse pounded in her ears, drowning out everything else. The room around her seemed to grow smaller, the air thicker. Panic consumed her, sharp and suffocating. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. Everything felt like it was slipping away, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Her fingers dug into the walls, desperate for something solid to hold onto, but it didn’t help. The pressure in her chest intensified, a crushing weight, and her legs buckled beneath her. She slid down the wall, curling into herself as the panic tightened its grip.
“Stop, stop, stop,” she whispered to herself, but it didn’t work. Nothing was working.

Her body shook uncontrollably as the tears finally spilled over, each sob wracking her chest as she gasped for air. The feeling of hopelessness, the overwhelming certainty that nothing was ever going to get better suffocated her, and she didn’t know how much longer she could hold on.

In the haze of the panic attack, there was a brief, quiet thought that drifted through her mind: Why am I even still here?

But before she could fall deeper into the thought, she heard a voice, faint but clear, calling her name.

Sevika barged through the door, her heavy footsteps echoing off the walls of the small, quiet room. She’d heard the door slam, the noise of Vi’s frustration clearly audible from the locker room. Now, seeing her on the floor, curled up and trembling, it was clear that things had gone far beyond just anger. Her breath was too quick, too shallow. She was suffocating in it, spiraling.

“Violet!” Sevika’s voice was a sharp bark, cutting through the chaos. She didn’t hesitate, her hands grabbing Vi by the shoulders, yanking her upright with a force that was almost too rough. Her grip tightened, her fingers digging into Vi’s skin as she forced the younger girl to focus on her. “Look at me. Focus. You’re not going anywhere, got it?”

Vi’s eyes were wild, unfocused, her breath erratic and panicked. Her face was pale, and she couldn’t seem to catch her breath no matter how hard she tried. Her body shuddered with every inhalation, the panic choking her from the inside out.

Sevika’s eyes hardened. She didn’t have time for this, Vi didn’t have time for this. The vulnerability was unsettling, but Sevika knew how to handle it. She could feel the tension building in her chest as she leaned in close, locking eyes with Vi, forcing her to see the strength that she was supposed to remember.

“Vi, listen to me. Right now, you’re not breathing. I can’t help you if you don’t listen. You’re still here. You’re still living. Understand? You’re not dead yet,” Sevika snapped, her voice hard but steady.

Vi’s whole body was trembling, her fists clenched by her sides, but she couldn’t speak. The weight of it all had her choking on air, too dizzy to even find her footing.

“Don’t you dare lose it on me, Vi,” Sevika’s voice was like steel, and it broke through the haze of panic just enough for Vi to focus on the sound of it. “You need to breathe, and you need to do it now. In, out. In, out. I’ll be damned if I let you keep drowning in this.”

She shook Vi slightly, her hands gripping her shoulders harder. It wasn’t gentle, but it wasn’t meant to be. Sevika had seen this before. Panic could eat you alive if you weren’t strong enough to fight back. She wasn’t about to let Vi stay trapped in that dark space, no matter how raw it was.

Vi’s chest heaved, and her eyes welled up with tears, but the fog started to clear, just a little. She gasped for air, forcing herself to inhale and exhale, her hands trembling at her sides.

“That’s it,” Sevika growled, more of a command than a praise. “I didn’t pull you up to let you drown, Vi. You breathe, and you listen. Focus on me. Don’t think about anything else. Just here. Just now.”

Vi’s head tilted down, her shoulders rising and falling erratically as she fought to steady herself. It was like her body wasn’t listening, but Sevika’s firm grip and the sound of her voice kept pulling her back to the present.

“Good,” Sevika said, voice still harsh but a little more even now. “Breathe. Stay with me. You’re not weak, Vi. You’re not broken. You’re going to keep going, because that’s what you do.”

She held Vi for a moment, still grounding her, her rough hand rubbing up and down her back in a way that was almost comforting, though it wasn’t the soft, soothing approach. It was a reminder: You’re still here. You’re still standing.

The tremors slowed, just a bit, as Vi’s breathing evened out. She wiped the back of her hand across her face, but she couldn’t get rid of the shame, the embarrassment, or the frustration. Sevika noticed it, but didn’t give her a chance to wallow.

“Enough of that shit,” Sevika said, her tone stern. “I don’t give a damn about how bad it hurts. I don’t care how hard you’re pushing. You're the heart of this team. You don’t get to fall apart in front of them, not like that. You take it, and you keep fucking moving.”
Vi swallowed, her throat dry, and nodded weakly. Her emotions were still raw, but the panic had faded, the wildness in her chest beginning to slow down.

“Better?” Sevika asked, voice less harsh but no less commanding.

“Yeah... I think so,” Vi whispered, her voice still strained. She wiped her face again, trying to clear the tears that had mixed with the sweat. It was still hard to breathe fully, but she was getting there. Sevika wasn’t letting her off the hook until she was.

Sevika studied her for a moment, before finally loosening her grip and giving her a small, barely perceptible nod. “You’ve got more fight than this. Don’t forget that. You get your shit together.”

Vi looked at Sevika, chest still tight but a little steadier. “Thanks... I needed that,” she murmured.

“Don’t thank me. Just don’t let it happen again,” Sevika shot back gruffly, standing up and turning to the door. But she paused before leaving, glancing back at Vi with a rare softness in her eyes. “You’re not broken. You don’t get to give up on yourself. Ever.” Sevika gave her a final nod before leaving the room. The sound of her heavy steps echoed down the hallway.

She wasn't sure of much at this moment, but she knew one thing. She needed to get out of that rink. Vi shrugged her gear off, leaving it in the closet. She couldn't be bothered to give a shit anymore.

Vi walked aimlessly, her footsteps heavy on the cracked pavement, the city lights casting harsh shadows that seemed to mock her. She could feel the weight of everything pressing on her. The game, her panic attack, the crushing frustration of feeling so out of control. It was all too much, and she needed to escape, even if only for a few hours.

She couldn’t remember how long she’d been walking, but by now, the streets felt foreign, unfamiliar. She was in a part of town she didn’t recognize, the sound of her boots echoing off the damp walls of alleyways and empty storefronts. The adrenaline from the game had worn off, replaced with a hollow ache in her chest that wouldn’t quit. She didn’t care about her gear, or the game she’d just failed so miserably in. She didn’t care about anything but getting away from it all.

She hadn’t even thought about where she was going; her feet just kept moving, driven by some urge to escape. It felt like the further she walked, the less tethered she became to everything back at the rink. The crowd, the coach, her teammates, Caitlyn, her family… none of it mattered here.

Vi found herself on a quiet, narrow back street, the kind of place she knew to avoid at all costs. The streetlights were dim, the buildings leaning in like they were suffocating the space. The air was thick, the smell of something burnt or musty lingering in the distance. Her hands were trembling, but she didn’t care enough to hide it.

She turned a corner, her eyes darting around as she tried to catch her breath. The panic hadn’t fully left her, not yet, and it was starting to creep back. The tightness in her chest, the weight in her stomach, everything was still heavy, too much to bear.

Her feet had taken her toward a dimly lit diner tucked away in a rundown corner. It didn’t matter where she was anymore. Everything felt wrong, like she was drifting in the dark, with no way to find the light again.

When she stepped through the door, the bell above it jingled softly. The atmosphere inside was nothing like the welcoming warmth of Jericho’s, where she’d often found comfort. This place was the antithesis of everything she knew, a grimy, poorly lit hole in the wall. The walls were stained, the booths cracked and worn, and the fluorescent lights buzzed, casting an unflattering glow over the few patrons who sat scattered around. The air smelled faintly of grease and stale coffee. Vi slid into a booth by the window, pulling her jacket tighter around her as she tried to lose herself in the unfamiliar surroundings. Maybe it was the isolation she craved, or maybe she was just trying to escape the noise in her head, but for the first time in what felt like forever, she was alone with her thoughts.

She stared at the faded menu in front of her, but her mind kept drifting back to Caitlyn, the looks, the words exchanged, the soft moments that now seemed like they were part of a dream she couldn’t quite grasp. Caitlyn had pulled away, and every day that passed, every unanswered text, every silent day, it hurt more and more. Vi didn’t know what was happening, or why Caitlyn had shut her out, but the more she thought about it, the more it felt like something was slipping through her fingers. The more Caitlyn pulled away, the deeper the ache in her chest grew.

It wasn’t until she heard voices that she finally snapped out of her daze. At first, it was just background noise, a couple of guys talking loudly a few booths down. But soon, the conversation took a turn, and Vi felt something cold and heavy settle in her stomach.

“Do you know Caitlyn Kiramman?” One of the boys asked, his voice dripping with disdain. Vi tensed, her breath catching as the name hit her like a slap. She knew that voice, too familiar, too close to the topic she didn’t want to think about.

“Yeah, I know ‘er,” the other boy responded with a snicker. “Rich girl, thinks she’s above us, doesn’t even know how to act with people like us.” He laughed, and Vi’s skin prickled with a sudden unease.

Vi wasn’t sure why she stayed, why her eyes remained locked on the table in front of her as the words continued to spill from their mouths, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave. Something about the conversation held her there, tethered to it even as every word struck her like a hammer.

“She's pretty, sure. But she rejects every guy who tries to make a move on her.” the first boy continued, his tone mocking. “Guess she thinks she’s too good for them. But you know what I think?”

Vi’s breath quickened. She didn’t want to hear it. She didn’t want to listen, but somehow, she couldn’t stop herself.

“I think she’s probably a slut, but doesn’t want anyone to know. or maybe a lesbo, huh? That’s why she won’t even look twice at any of us.” The second boy laughed again, but it wasn’t a happy laugh. It was cruel, dismissive, like Caitlyn was nothing more than a joke to him.

The words hit her like an icy blast, her chest tightening with each syllable. It was as though everything she’d been avoiding, the confusion, the hurt, the fears that Caitlyn had never felt the same way, came crashing down on her all at once. She couldn’t breathe. The words of these strangers were poisoning her thoughts, wrapping around her heart and squeezing until it felt like it might shatter.

Vi's mind was spinning. How could they say that about Caitlyn? How could they take the girl she cared about so deeply and turn her into something ugly, something she wasn’t? The Caitlyn Vi knew, the one she had shared late night conversations with, the one who had trusted her, who had shown her the tenderness and strength hidden beneath her polished exterior, was nothing like this. Caitlyn wasn’t a joke. She wasn’t some object of ridicule or the brunt of these boys’ cruelty. She was more than they would ever understand.

They didn’t know Caitlyn. They didn’t know how much she fought to be more than just a rich girl, how much she cared about the things that mattered to her. They didn’t see the way Caitlyn tried so hard to be strong in a world that kept pushing her down. She wasn’t some easy target. She wasn’t some stereotype. But no matter how much Vi wanted to scream, she knew it wouldn’t change the fact that Caitlyn wasn’t there to defend herself. And that hurt more than she could put into words.

Vi sat there, her fists clenched tightly beneath the table, her breath shallow as the words continued to churn around her. The boys were oblivious to the pain they were causing, completely unaware of the girl sitting just inches away from them, the girl who was falling apart with every word they spoke.

"She thinks she's too good for us," the first boy muttered again, voice dripping with venom. "But she’s not. She’s just hiding something."
Vi’s chest ached. She couldn’t take it anymore. She couldn’t just sit there and listen to this. But she couldn’t leave either. She didn’t know what to do, where to go. All she knew was that every insult, every degrading comment, was leaving a mark on her that she couldn’t undo.

Vi’s hands were shaking as she stood, her legs unsteady beneath her. Every ounce of her body screamed at her to walk away, to ignore the horrible words coming from the two boys behind her, to let it go. But she couldn’t. The moment they mentioned Caitlyn’s name again, something inside her snapped. The rage, the frustration, the sadness, it all poured out at once.

Without thinking, Vi spun around, her breath coming in sharp, ragged bursts. The two boys didn’t even seem to register her presence at first, too busy laughing and slinging insults. That made it even easier for her. She marched up to their booth, hands clenched into fists, eyes burning with fury.

“You have no idea what you're talking about,” she spat, her voice low and dangerous.

The boys looked up at her, one of them narrowing his eyes. “Oh, it’s you.” The first boy sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. “What, you think we’re wrong about her? She’s probably just…”

Before he could finish his sentence, Vi lunged, her fist flying through the air. The punch connected with the boy’s jaw with a sickening crack, sending him sprawling back in his seat, his eyes wide in surprise. His friend shot up, a look of shock turning into fury, and before Vi could even step back, he threw a punch of his own.

The moment the fight broke out, the diner seemed to erupt into chaos. Cups of coffee toppled to the floor. People screamed and scrambled to get away from the violence. Vi was in the middle of it now, adrenaline rushing through her veins, her body moving without a second thought. She was swinging punches, not caring who got hit, not caring how much it hurt, just wanting to release the tidal wave of emotion that had been building up inside her for days.

The boys fought back, their fists landing against her side, her shoulder, but Vi barely felt it. The anger was overwhelming, drowning out everything else. Every punch was a release, a way to make them understand how much they had hurt her, how much they had hurt Caitlyn.

She wasn’t thinking anymore. She wasn’t thinking about consequences, or how far she could push it. All she knew was that Caitlyn didn’t deserve their words. She didn’t deserve to be reduced to something ugly. She was more than their insults. Vi was going to make them understand that.

The fight escalated quickly. The entire diner was a blur of limbs and shouted insults. The boys’ friends joined in, and Vi was soon tangled up in the middle of a full blown brawl, fists flying, bodies crashing against tables and booths. The people shouting, the clattering of chairs, it all drowned out everything else. She wasn’t sure who was hitting her anymore. She wasn’t sure what was happening. The only thing that mattered was the fury that bubbled up from within her.

In the haze of violence, someone finally screamed, "Call the cops!" The next thing Vi knew, sirens were blaring, and the chaos came to a halt as people scrambled away. The boys were holding their faces, bleeding and bruised, but it didn’t matter. Vi wasn’t done. She wasn’t done with them. But before she could take another step, strong hands grabbed her from behind, pulling her away from the mess. She barely struggled, her mind too clouded to fight back.

One of the officers had her in handcuffs before she knew it, her body trembling with the adrenaline rush. She was shoved into the back of a squad car, her chest tight and her breath shallow. The flashes of the fight kept replaying in her mind, but no matter how hard she tried to shake it, the guilt and the anger didn’t fade.

Vi was taken to a nearby precinct, the fluorescent lights overhead buzzing in the sterile silence of the holding area. She sat on the cold bench, the handcuffs digging into her wrists, her head spinning. All she could think about was how far she’d gone, how she’d lost control, how she didn’t even know what would happen next.

Minutes stretched into hours. The sounds of muffled conversations and the shuffle of feet echoed in the walls. Her thoughts were loud, so loud that it felt like they were suffocating her.

Vi slumped against the wall, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. The weight of the world felt like it was pressing down on her shoulders, and the walls of the holding cell seemed to close in around her. Her mind raced through the events that had led her here, the fight, the words she had heard, the uncontrollable rush of anger that had taken over, the regret that followed as soon as the adrenaline had worn off.

She didn’t know how long she’d been sitting there, staring at the floor, but her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching.

Vi didn’t bother to look up. She knew it was Vander. The warm, somewhat strict man who always kept his emotions locked tight, only letting them slip through the cracks when he thought no one was watching.

The door to the holding area swung open, and Vi heard the heavy clunk of shoes on the tile floor before she felt a presence beside her. She finally lifted her eyes, meeting Vander’s steely gaze. His face was set in a deep frown, his expression a mix of concern, frustration, and something else Vi couldn’t place.

Without a word, he moved to the desk and handed a set of papers to the officer behind it. The officer gave him a quick once over before taking the papers and nodding. Vi had been expecting the anger, the lecture, but she hadn’t prepared herself for the quiet, disappointed look that was now aimed at her.

Vander’s eyes didn’t soften. “Let’s go,” he said flatly, his voice calm but heavy with a tinge of exhaustion. He didn’t even look at her, his gaze trained on the officer as he signed the final paperwork.

Vi stood slowly, her limbs feeling heavier than usual, her body still buzzing with the aftereffects of the fight and the lingering panic attack. She followed Vander out of the holding area, her heart pounding in her chest. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but it wasn’t the chilling silence that settled between them as they walked out of the precinct.

The doors slid open with a soft hiss as they stepped outside, the cool air hitting Vi’s face, but it didn’t bring any relief. If anything, it made her feel even more isolated. Vander didn’t say anything for a long moment as they made their way to the car. When they finally reached the vehicle, he opened the door and waited for her to get in. She climbed in, not bothering to speak, knowing that whatever she said wouldn’t matter. The damage had been done.

As the car rumbled down the road, Vi couldn’t shake the weight of the situation. Her hands were still trembling from the adrenaline, her mind still spinning from everything that had happened. Vander was silent for a while, but the tension in the air was thick. His disappointment was palpable, and every second of silence seemed to weigh on Vi more than any words could.

Finally, Vander couldn’t keep quiet anymore. His voice broke through the hum of the engine, rough and sharp.

“I can’t believe you, Vi.” His voice was low, but there was a bite to it that made her wince. “You think getting yourself arrested is the way to handle things? You think punching people out is going to make everything better?”

Vi flinched at his tone, but she didn’t say anything. She didn’t have anything to say. How could she explain? How could she tell him that it was the only thing that made sense in that moment? That the words the boys had said about Caitlyn had hurt her so badly that she just couldn’t stand it?

“You think people don’t look up to you?” Vander continued, his anger rising. “That every time you make a scene like that, you’re not just embarrassing yourself, but everyone who cares about you?”

Vi’s stomach twisted. She knew he was right. He was always right. But she couldn’t bring herself to apologize, not fully. She had done something stupid, yes, but it had felt like the only way to protect Caitlyn when no one else would.

“You’re lucky I got you out of there,” Vander went on, his voice still hard. “Do you know how hard it was to get the cops to let you go? They don’t give a damn about who you are, Vi. They don’t care that you’re a prodigy in hockey. All they saw was a zaunite who can’t control herself. And now this mess is going to follow you around. People are going to start thinking you’re nothing more than a troublemaker.”

Vi swallowed, her chest tight. She could feel her heart pounding in her ears. Every word he said hit her like a slap in the face, each one sinking her deeper into guilt and frustration. She should’ve known better. She should’ve been smarter.

Vander’s voice softened just a bit, but there was still a trace of bitterness. “What the hell were you thinking, Vi? You’ve got so much to lose. Do you want to throw it all away for some stupid fight in a diner?”

Vi could barely meet his eyes, her gaze glued to the window. Her stomach churned with the weight of his words. It was too much. All of it, the fight, Caitlyn, the missed shots, the failed game, was crashing down on her. The weight of it was unbearable, and she wanted to scream, but all she could do was sit there, silently, enduring the lecture that she knew she deserved.

“You’re not just representing yourself, you know,” Vander said after a long silence. “You’ve got people who depend on you. Your teammates, your friends, your family. You want to act like this, fine, but you’re dragging them down with you.”

Vi’s hands were clenched in fists now, her nails digging into her palms. “I know,” she muttered, barely able to get the words out. “I just… I couldn’t let them talk about Caitlyn like that. She doesn’t deserve it.”

Vander didn’t say anything for a long while. The car hummed along the road, the tension still thick between them. Finally, he let out a long, tired breath.

“I get it, Vi. I get it more than you think,” he said quietly, his voice softer now. “But you’ve got to be smarter about this. If you want to help her, if you want to make things right, this… this isn’t the way to do it.”

Vi nodded, her throat tight. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know how to make it right, how to fix all the damage she’d caused. All she could do was sit there, silently, hoping she could find a way to make things better.

Finally, the silence was broken when the radio announcer’s voice cut through the static, filling the car.

“…in sports news, this year’s figure skating nationals are just around the corner. Set to take place in Rivendell, it promises to be an intense competition, with many skaters vying for the gold. This year’s lineup includes some of the best in the country, including several promising newcomers…”

Vi snapped to attention, her heart racing as the words registered. Nationals. The event Caitlyn had been training for relentlessly.

The announcer continued. “Among the top contenders is Caitlyn Kiramman, representing the prestigious Piltover figure skating club. Caitlyn will be performing her long program at 2:00 p.m. on Saturday, January 3rd. Fans and family alike are eagerly anticipating her performance…”

Vi’s breath caught in her throat as Caitlyn’s name rang through the car, clear and sharp. Her eyes widened, and without thinking, she reached over and turned the volume up, her hands trembling slightly.

“...After a season of impressive feats, Caitlyn has proven she’s a force to be reckoned with. Will she claim the title, or will another rising star take the crown? You can catch the full event live next weekend…”

Vi couldn’t focus on the rest of the report. All she could think about was Caitlyn, her name echoing in her mind, the image of her graceful figure on the ice flashing through her thoughts. Vi didn’t know what was worse, the fact that she hadn’t been able to get in touch with her, or the fact that she might never see her again.

Vander glanced over at her, his eyes catching her frantic expression. “You gonna be okay?”

Vi didn’t answer right away. Her hands gripped the seat, knuckles white, and she focused on the news broadcast, her heart pounding in her chest.

“She’s competing this weekend.” Vi muttered softly to herself, more to process the information than to speak to Vander.

Vander didn’t say anything else, sensing the turmoil in her. He knew how much Caitlyn meant to her, but he also knew how much Vi had messed up by pushing people away.

“Almost six hours away,” Vi mumbled under her breath. She stared out the window again, eyes lost in thought.

She couldn’t explain it, couldn’t explain why it mattered so much. But hearing Caitlyn’s name, hearing that she was so close, so far, was like a punch to the gut. She needed to fix this. Somehow. She couldn’t just leave things the way they were. Vi knew she had a long way to go before she could make things right, but hearing about Caitlyn, hearing her name on the radio like that, made it clear to her.

She had to go. She had to be there for Caitlyn, even if she didn’t know how to fix everything between them.