The Vicious Role I Never Wanted

Yuwan scrolled through his phone, his fingers moving swiftly across the screen, searching for his program music. The air was heavy with curiosity—three pairs of eyes were still fixed on him, silently waiting. He could feel the weight of their stares, but he kept his expression calm, focusing on his task. After a short while, he finally found the track and handed his phone to Nikolai.

"This is the music I'll be using." he said softly.

Nikolai took the phone, glancing at the title of the song before looking back at Yuwan with interest. "Are you sure about this?" Maxim leaned in to peek as well, while Aleksandr simply kept his gaze on Yuwan.

Without another word, Yuwan walked over to the bench near the ice. He carefully took off his coat and folded it neatly beside him. Now dressed in his black fitted top and flexible skating trousers, his slim figure became more visible. His shoulders were delicate but not weak, and his waist was surprisingly narrow, it looked as if Aleksandr could wrap his hands around it with ease. His long limbs and graceful posture reminded him of a ballet dancer, every movement effortlessly elegant.

Aleksandr, catching sight of the prince's lean frame, quickly looked away but not before his thoughts ran wild. 'How is he built like that? He looks so delicate...'

He took a sip of his water, pretending to focus on something else. But the truth is, he couldn't shake the unexpected reaction stirring inside him.

Yuwan reached into his bag and pulled out his pristine white skates. He leaned down, slipping one foot at a time into the snug boots. His fingers moved swiftly, looping the laces in a secure pattern, ensuring a firm but comfortable fit. He did the same with the other skate. This small action, like everything else he did, makes it appear utterly graceful.

'His waist...' Aleksandr caught himself momentarily stunned by how slim it was. He quickly looked away.

Nikolai walked over to the sound system and plugged in Yuwan's phone. He tapped a few buttons, checking the volume. "Yuva, get ready." he called over his shoulder.

Yuwan, already on the side of the rink, nodded. He began stretching his arms and legs, warming up his body. He took his time—rolling his shoulders, reaching for his toes, bending his knees carefully. For thirty minutes, he moved through quiet stretches, focused and calm. There was no rush in his motions, only quiet preparation, like a musician tuning his instrument before a big performance.

Once he was ready, Yuwan stood up and stepped toward the ice.

As soon as he glided forward, the sound of blades scraping the surface made several skaters on the rink turn their heads. Some of them blinked in surprise, recognizing the young man with soft midnight hair with a graceful posture. A few of them slowed down their drills, then stopped completely. Murmurs spread across the rink.

"Is that... Prince Yuvan?" someone whispered.

"He knows how to skate?" another asked, wide-eyed.

One by one, the other skaters slowly stepped off the ice, curiosity pulling them to the edge. They leaned on the dasher boards, eyes fixed on the center. Even the ones who had just been practicing tough routines a minute ago now stood in silence, watching the young prince make his way to the middle of the rink.

Yuwan didn't look at anyone. His eyes stayed on the ice in front of him as he took his place at the center, breathing deeply. His calmness brought a hush to the building.

Then, the music began.

As the haunting first notes of Virus by Beethoven echoed through the arena, Yuwan took his opening pose at the edge of the rink. His arms hung gently at his sides, head tilted downward, like a marionette waiting to be pulled into motion. The moment the piano and strings swelled, he pushed off, gliding into the center with fluid grace.