toxic | dnf ice skating AU

the rink

ever since george was a baby he wanted to be a figure skater. something about the gracefulness in the spins, or the height in the jumps made him attracted to it like a magnet.

"hello, here for free skate," he hands over an ID that proves ownership of a subscription to the ice rink. the middle aged lady scans the card and smiles, "you're good to go." she says gently. george smiles and nods towards her, turning to his right and walking down the hallway into a room with a completely empty ice rink in it. he gets excited when he gets the rink to himself. george sits down on a bench and takes his skates out of the bag, taking off the guards and lacing them up.
he skates onto the ice and just starts with casual stretches and laps around the rink. after a minute or two, he begins progressing to practicing his spins. though they are never a big part of his routines, they're still his favorite thing to do on the ice. 

practice goes as usual, maybe a fall here and there, but nothing serious. ending off, he skates to one side of the rink and begins to skate towards the middle, when he reaches around the middle, he jumps, performing a double axel, and landing seamlessly.

clapping is heard as he looks over. "that was great, george!" coach puffy walks in with coach phil, the coach of the boys hockey team. phil walks away from her to do something else, even though the hockey team wasnt there yet. puffy walks towards the door that leads to the ice rink and leans against it as george skates over. 

"thank you," he says, slightly out of breath from skating over.

"try to not smack the ground too hard though, you shouldn't be out of breath," she comments, misinterpreting the reason for george's light panting. 

"right right," he says, not wanting to correct her.

"anyways, i came to tell you that you've gotta clear off the ice early, hockey practice is being moved to be earlier,"
"what?" george asks, he had things to do, hours of the day to consume, this was his time to skate. 

"im sorry, kiddo. but hey! you're looking great out there. go get a slushie or something," she says, handing him a five dollar bill out from her pocket. 

"thank you," george says, flashing her a smile. she smiles back, and he walks off the ice and to a seat. midway through taking off his skates, a group of other teenage boys break through the door, bags over their shoulders. what was once george peacefully taking off his skates after a long practice was now turning into a loud combination of people screaming, and trying to find seats to gear up that weren't besides george. 

"can this dude move?" a short blonde male nudges the person next to him, who was also looking for a seat in the now crowded ice rink lobby. the person shrugs, not really that upset by it. "hey! can you hurry up? we need to get out gear on no and youre in our way," george looks up to see the boys looking at him. 

"im almost done," he says, looking back down. "damn," he curses under his breath. 

"what was that?" the boy asks. 

"nothing! done, holy shit. you couldn't wait two seconds?" george says, quickly grabbing his bag and making sure to shoulder the male as he walks out. the blonde looks at him walk off, offended, but at a loss for anything to respond with. 

george walks past the lady at the front desk, and out the doors. he puts the hood up on his jacket as the snow pours down. he walks to his car and hops in, throwing his bag in the passenger's seat while turning the keys. the cold jeep begins to warm up, as he decides to sit there for a moment to look at his phone. 

he drove a white, two door, jeep wrangler. although it could get cold in the winter due to it being able to change between soft and hard top, he still loved his car. a while ago, his friend wilbur, suggested that he'd name the car, supposedly to get more attached to it. when george declined, wilbur took it upon himself to name it. what did he end up naming it? alyssa. the reason? he often made fun of george for having the most "straight white girl" car out there, and thought alyssa was a very "straight white girl" name that fit. 

george scrolls through instagram, looking at his teammates' skating clips, realizing he should've taken a video of his double axel. he internally facepalms and decides to turn off his phone and start driving home. driving in the snow was certainly not his favorite. george knew very little when it came to driving in extreme weather. 

as he arrives at home, he notices that his father's car wasn't in the driveway, like usual. nothing new. his dad was a business man who worked long hours to support their family, and george didn't complain about it. on the other hand, his mother stayed at home all day, caring for him and his sister. his mom was sweet, she was energetic and hung out with her friends a lot. she would go to concerts and suburban mom parties while also cooking meals and helping out with homework. 

george walks into the house, dropping his bag off on a chair in the garage. he takes off his shoes before walking any further. he looks into the kitchen to see his mom cooking something. "hey," he greets, as she's turned around and hadn't noticed he'd gotten home yet.

"hey! how come you're home so early? practice doesn't end for another hour," she comments while wiping off her hands on a rag. 

"practice is being pushed earlier. hockey team has to practice earlier so im getting pushed up, i guess,"

she recognizes the annoyance and disappointment in his voice, "aww. but you'll be alright! you adapt well," she says, going back to cooking. "dinner will be ready soon,"

"got it, love you," he calls before going upstairs and into his room. his room is decently sized. to the far right is a full sized bed raised about three to four feet off the ground. so high you'd have to jump-or just use the milk crate that's in place of a stool. he has a tall side table next to his bed with a water bottle on it, a book, a wireless phone charger, and a box of tissues. in front of his bed is a rack of shoes. across from the shoes is a shelving unit that's not too much taller than his bed. on top of the shelves is a tv, and on the shelves are a few gaming consoles, the games to go with them, and some books. to the right of his tv is a small desk and chair where he does his school work at. all the way to the left of the room is his closet, where he displays trophies, ribbons, and medals on a shelf towards the top. 

george jumps up onto his bed and rolls to face the wall and scroll on his phone for a while. he goes on social media for a bit until he drifts to sleep, exhausted from the tasks that the day brought.