The rink was clearly occupied. A shadowy figure pranced through the ice as the only sound that projected through the hollow room was the sound of the metal blades clashing with the impenetrable ice. A faint breath could be heard gasping for air yet their silence was immediately shattered as a flash of white pierced through the glass windows.

Irina awoke to the aberration of frenzy on the television that echoed through her small home while she was trapped in her deep slumber. The sound of the television was then followed by the mixed reactions of her siblings' chatter in the living room.

She could hear Slava's voice tremble with aghast and consternation as Dmitri had choked on his routinely freshly brewed coffee and was now furiously coughing to ease his discomfort. Whatever was on the news was definitely exacerbating the conflict and tension that always inhabited and interfered with their home life.

The teenager could barely interpret the commotion blazing from the television and the louder her family spoke, the longer she was forced to stay awake to the bitter wrath of the morning weather. However, Irina hadn't dared to remove herself from the comfort of her bed, it was the only place where she genuinely felt safe and besides, based on the interjection of her father's sudden tone into the conversation, confronting the three would be walking straight into a chasm engulfed with the fires of an inferno.

She planted her head against the the pillow and stared at the plain cream ceiling, hoping that the thought of nothing would force her back to sleep. If only everyone outside had the decency to shut up.

Yet regardless, Irina was nonetheless forced to wake up when a vibration from her desk furiously began to buzz near her ear. She groused with irritation and threw her arm across onto the small table as her hand slammed onto the phone.

She squinted her eyes at the sight of the caller ID on the bright screen and planted her head against the surface with a groan. She slid her finger to accept the call.

"What do you want Yuri?" She muttered against the pillow.

"Get your damn face off your stupid pillow and get your ass to practice now. Do you see the commotion here?" He growled.

Irina shot the upper part of her body up and clenched her fist, "What commotion? I promise, I was going to wake up sooner or later, I just wanted a few more minutes of peace."

Yet the male didn't reply, instead Irina was bombarded with the ferocious tone of the latter's voice booming in the background in the clamour of snapping and the sound of numerous voices clamoured together.

"Get the hell out of my way!" His muted voice pierced through the speaker.

Irina slightly moved the phone away from her ear to avoid the deafening insults and blankly stared at the empty wall facing across her as she impatiently waited for his response. Such horrid temper from such a horrid person.

"Why do you think she's in St Petersburg rink?" She could hear a reporter shout over the commotion.  

"I don't know and I don't care who's inside! Can't you see I'm currently outside the damn stadium?! How am I supposed to tell you who's inside?!"

Irina slammed her fist against the pillow and rolled against her back to stare at the wall again. He was bound to overreact at her actions if she dared to hang up with that foul temperamental behaviour of his.

"Yuri, I'm going to hang up now and I'll see you at training in half an hour," she blankly said before hanging up. What the hell was that?

She carelessly tossed the device against her desk and groggily threw her legs against the cool wooden planks of the floor. She shivered at its touch and sat in that position for a while, her hands rested against the edge of the shrivelling old mattress as her green eyes remain planted at her fading withering white skates neatly hung behind her door, holes and scratches were beginning to dominate the surface of the material. She would eventually have to purchase a new pair soon. 

The bitter wind air curled against her bare legs as it blew gently against her neck, causing her shoulders to slightly curl up. Dmitri must've forgotten to close the window like always.

Irina faced St Petersburg ice skating rink in awe and amazement. Hundreds of journalists and news reporters with their crew were tightly clustered among the entrance of the giant stadium, flashing their cameras accompanied with the inaudible questions that overlapped one another. All forced to bear the wrath of Winter until they would finally realise their foolish nature to succumb to its omnipotence.

The sight of the cameras and people overwhelmed her with anxiety and fear, she despised the presence of them. Self conscious? Of course, they've done nothing but inflict pain and vicious rumours towards her family ever since Catroyn was awarded with silver nine years ago, it was them who tarnished her family's proud reputation among Russia and the people who had once worshipped their performances.

Yet as the media were considered slanderers to her entire family, her covetous father and one of Russia's most infamous coaches, Gedeon Voronkov utilised the scrutiny of their failure as a strategy to project intentness on his children. To manifest his family as the future stepping stones to greatness again was a dream, yet to Irina, he was a man who craved and thirsted for recognition of achievements that he had casted to his kin to accomplish.

Irina held her breath and sprinted through the enclosed passages of the crowd as she dodged and responded with silence at the midst of questions that reporters threw her way. She lowered her head and continued to journey her way through the flashes of light that paralysed her sight and exposed her face that was probably going to end up somewhere on the media.

"Irina, do you think you'll surpass Catroyn's loss in the championships?" A male wearing a mask questioned as he pushed his microphone against the side of her lips.

She could only push the microphone away with anger. She was tempted to speak but a single word that slipped out her tongue to defend her sister's pride could always be manipulated and altered into a lie and a reckless move as a result of her irritability would be far too bothersome for her family to resolve. 

"Miss Urusova, are you worried about the competition against Slava? Do you think it'll interfere with your debut?" A woman wearing a trench coat shoved past her camera crew to get close.

Irina ignored question and dashed towards the entrance, her eyes glued to the grand doors as her legs focused on nothing but running away from the hassling crowd.

She wished Dmitri and Slava were there to protect her, to be a barrier to isolate herself from the covers of the cameras. Her siblings were tenacious and dauntless in contrast to her cowardice nature. They were the true strong ones. Irina may have been portrayed as the pride of the family yet her siblings were the leading faces who endured more than she could handle.

"How do you think Mi's presence will interfere with your chances of winning the championship?" An unknown voice pierced through the crowd, Irina had attempted to find the journalist yet was overwhelmed by the flashing cameras and inaudible voices that clashed over another. 

The teenager flinched at the question and when she finally approached sanctuary, she slightly glanced at the bright lights of the flashes that could give anyone a seizure and the overlapping talking could cause anyone to become deaf and forced herself to turn to an unknown security guard who firmly stood his ground in front of the grand door. 

"Identification," he stated in bore.

Irina frowned, "Irina Urusova."

"Identification," he repeated.

Irina begrudgingly pulled out her ID as the broad male briskly moved aside with a nod of approval while she swiftly brushed past his over towering figure.

Yakov and his students were huddled against each other outside the rink and based on the hostile aura that emitted from their rancorous and contentious tones that echoed through the stadium, it was more than the difficulty of arriving to training that irritated them.

Irina walked towards the group until she found herself to be bemused at the sight of a foreign individual who had enticed the attention of every being inside the room.