Winter Wind // dreamnotfound

::1::

Winter in New York City is always a magical time.

Well, that is if you ignore the icy rain and the slush that covers the ground. You also have to ignore the copious amounts of homeless people lurking within the corners of the city. If you're Dream, you learn to avoid anyone and everyone on the streets, walking with one purpose only.

He's not originally from New York City, but the weather in Florida doesn't always provide the best conditions for ice skating. Dream had moved away for college, and now has an apartment right off of campus. It's the perfect place, as it's right next to the ice rink—the professional one, not the public one that he had made the mistake of practicing at when he first moved.

"Dream? Are you coming?" Darryl—or coach Bad, as he likes to be called—yells from outside the locker room.

"Yeah! Be there in a sec!" Dream yells back, lacing up his dirty tennis shoes. He winces looking at them, noticing just how bad of a condition they're in. Alas, being in college doesn't give Dream much spending money, as he's too busy with his classes or skating. Any money he doesn't spend on skating gear goes to his apartment.

Dream meets his coach in the hallway, slinging his bag haphazardly over his shoulder. Bad has been his coach ever since the blonde moved here three years ago. He's good, really good, but has always preferred coaching over performing, he says.

"Nationals are next week, are you excited?" Bad asks, the two walking side by side through the empty corridors. There's nobody else at the rink, the time being nearly two in the morning. Dream, being a sleep deprived college student, has always found peace in the quiet and empty rink. Bad joins him some days, usually when Dream misses his weekly daytime lessons.

"You know it," Dream beams, thinking about nationals already. He has this in the bag, as he's been preparing for this for years. Winning nationals means a free ride to worlds, then eventually to the Olympics, something Dream has always dreamt of attending. Still, there's a while until the Olympics, and a lot more competitions until then. He just has to survive the season.

"Do you think you have the routine down? I don't want anymore panic calls at one in the morning," Bad says, feigning annoyance. Really, Dream knows he doesn't mind. Bad loves his students more than anything else—besides maybe his boyfriend.

"I think so," Dream shrugs. "It's not like I forced you to come or anything."

"Yeah but you know I'd always help you out, muffinhead," Bad says with a light shove to Dream's shoulder.

Dream elbows him back and scoffs. "Stop calling me that!"

"Never," Bad snickers and slings an arm around his student, the two spending the rest of their walk talking about the competition. Dream uses this to release stress, trying not to overthink everything again.

Bad offers to cook Dream dinner, knowing the blonde has been practicing for hours on end, but he declines. Dream usually gets too far in his head to even think about eating, which, he thinks is the cause of his eating disorder. He doesn't mean to, but he'd rather be in control of everything—including his weight, his routines, his appearance, friendships, etc.

Dream sighs as he finally slumps into bed, letting the covers engulf his cold body. He finally gets to rest tomorrow—it's a Sunday, and usually he doesn't go to the rink that day—so he doesn't bother setting his alarm.

—————

Practice has been brutal these past few days.

Ever since Dream's day off on Sunday, he's been practicing non-stop. Halloween has just passed, and Dream is nearing winter break at college, something he's extremely grateful for. The first wave of nationals is November 8th, then the next is a few months later in February. Dream hopes he wins this upcoming one so that he doesn't have to compete in February—he doesn't know how much more preparing he can do before collapsing. At least winning the first branch of nationals gives him a breather until the world competition, which is at the end of February.