The practice session that afternoon was brutal.
Cold air rolled across the ice, but somehow the rink still felt hot.
The players had been skating for nearly two hours without a proper break.
Their breaths came out in white clouds, yet sweat still dampened their hair and soaked the collars of their jerseys.
At the edge of the rink stood Coach Ferdinand.
His broad shoulders were stiff, and his expression was dark.
He held a clipboard in one hand and a pen in the other.
Every few seconds, he scribbled something onto the paper.
The players were running around, hitting their sticks together and pushing each other.
Their chemistry was completely dead.
The Coach was staring at them visibly displeased at their performance.
He looked down to his book and scribbled something again.
From time to time he barked instructions from his position.
After some minutes he stood up, a frown in his face.
“Hey boys.” He yelled into the rink.
He gestured with his hands for them to gather before him.
At the far end of the ice, Roman was sitting on the bench pretending to adjust his skate, while Luciano was nowhere to be found.
All the boys gathered before the coach except Roman.
Coach Ferdinand’s heart panicked as his eyes swept through the crowd and he did not see Roman and Luciano.
‘Where are they?’ he muttered in his heart.
He looked around the rink, then his eyes caught Roman sitting on a bench in the far end of the rink, fusing frantically over his skate, his heart felt a slight relief but when he looked around again and did not see Luciano, his anxiety spiked again.
“Where is he?” He whispered to Joshua who was nearest to him.
“Who?”
“Luciano.”
“Oh….” Joshua’s eyes narrowed as he remembered something.
“I saw him standing near the glass stand, let me go and check him.”
Joshua dashed off before Coach Ferdinand could say anything.
Coach Ferdinand rubbed his forehead.
Sometimes he wondered whether coaching teenagers was shortening his lifespan.
When Roman finally looked up Coach Ferdinand gestured for him to come.
He stood up slowly, limping slightly as he was walking even though his legs no longer hurt.
When he got closer to the Coach he asked him.
“I am recovering.” Roman shrugged.
“That’s good.” The Coach said, looking him over.
Few minutes later, Joshua emerged with Luciano; he was looking a bit distraught, his golden blonde hair swept to the side.
His green eyes pierced every corner of the rink.
Immediately Roman saw him his heart did a mid flip.
Even in that state that Luciano looked like only murder is going through his mind, he still looked incredibly handsome.
His cheek flushed and he secretly pinched himself to get a grip hoping no one would notice his reaction on seeing Luciano.
When Luciano came and stood before the Coach, the Coach’s mind was momentarily put at ease.
He cleared his throat, his eyes glanced at both Luciano And Roman and then he said.
“Your performance today has been very embarrassing and ridiculous. And it has not only been today, This entire week has been a disaster. Tell me, boys—is my coaching really that terrible? Am I failing to explain the drills?”
Nobody answered instead a wave of murmurs rippled across the crowd but nobody said anything audible.
Ferdinand waited till the murmurs died down before he continued.
“You have the best coach, the best equipment, the best gears, the best ice rink, the best physician in the whole district. Even some colleges are envious of what you have. You have no excuse, especially as the Ice Storm championship and the other tournaments are fast approaching. This is the worst time to become lazy.”
His eyes scanned through them thoroughly like a worried father.
“Two days ago I made two people the co-captains of this prestigious team.” He paused for a moment waiting for an acknowledgement from Luciano and Roman.
When he saw none he continued.
“Luciano Anderson and Roman Milkov please step forward.”
There was a short pause before the two culprits managed to shuffle themselves forward.
Jaws set, eyes distant, hands on their pockets.
Coach Ferdinand shook his head thinking of how best to address the situation.
“Ever since the two of you were given the honor of leading this team, what exactly have you done? What plans have you initiated to fix the glaring issues we are having? How have you worked together to improve the morale of this squad?”
Neither Roman nor Luciano spoke.
The silence dragged on, becoming heavier by the second.
“You were picked based on your sheer talents, skill and your confidence to lead and motivate. I expect now there to be a concrete plan from both of you on how to improve the performance of this team but it seems that both of you have forgotten that you were given this important position.”
He paused for both of them to talk, but Roman kept his mouth shut and Luciano continued to stare into the distance.
Coach Ferdinand looked like he was about to lose his mind.
Finally he turned to Luciano.
“Do you have anything to say, Luciano.”
Luciano raised his face up .
The emotion in his face was complicated—a volatile mix of deep-seated anger, resentment, and a strange, hidden vulnerability.
His eyes held an intense expression.
He opened his mouth and said,
“What do you want me to say?” He asked in a cold voice.
“I was expecting an explanation or maybe an apology.”
“An apology?” Luciano scoffed, a mocking smirk on his face.
“If I ask you to change the person you gave me as a co-captain will you do that?”
The question sent a shockwave through the gathered teammates.
Roman felt a cold feeling shoot through his veins, his fists tightening until his fingernails bit into his palms.
“No,” The answer came immediately.
Luciano’s expression darkened.
The coach continued.
“This is not my decision alone, this is the decision of the top management that you and Roman are the best fit to captain and lead this team together.”
“By decisions, you mean “His” decision.” The Coach knows that Luciano was referring to his father Mario.
“Let’s not do this here Luciano.”
“Alright I am out.”
“No you can’t, not at this moment.”
Luciano stopped, his jaw clenched.
Then Ferdinand turned to Roman.
“What about you, why haven’t you approached Luciano so you can put your head together on how to lead this team.”
Roman contorted his face in pain, he waved his leg slightly to draw the Coach’s attention to it.
I am so sorry Coach.
You know I hurt my leg while climbing the stairs.
I have been in pain these past few days.
I am barely enduring the train.
I will go and meet my fellow captain to discuss the way forward for this team.” His voice sounds weak and full of remorse.
Coach Ferdinand nodded satisfactorily, Roman’s answer made sense to him.
Finally.
Someone was cooperating.
Luciano muttered under his breath ‘bloody liar ‘ but no one else heard it.
“I am expecting a full report from the two of you as soon as ossible,”
He turned to look at Luciano who looked away immediately, refusing to meet his eyes.
Unknown to them in the far end of the Ice Arena, standing in the highest part of the podium, hidden by glasses and poor lighting stood Mario Anderson.
His hands on his chin pulling unconsciously at his well groomed beards, a devilish grin on his face.
His eyes glinted with mischievousness.
“Hmmm he looks just like his father. Does he acts like him though?”