Chapter 153: Second Place Queen

Lorali

I was wiping a thin bead of sweat from my temple with the back of my hand when a tall, imposing shadow fell over me.

I looked up.

Zetana was standing near the entrance corridor, wrapped in a heavy team coat, holding a bottle of water. She was looking down at me with a calm, perfectly pleasant expression.

"Wow," Zetana said, her voice smooth, deep, and utterly devoid of any actual emotion. "That was really nice."

"Oh," I said, straightening my back, pulling my chin up to match her height. "Thank you." Zetana tilted her head, her dark eyes sweeping over my costume with an air of mild, patronizing interest. "Honestly... that is really good for second place."

My heart did a violent, angry flip against my ribs. My smile vanished, replaced by a razor-sharp glare. "I’m not going to be second place."

Zetana blinked, raising a delicate eyebrow in mock surprise. "Oh? Third place?"

"I’m going to be first place," I spat, my voice dropping into a low, dangerous growl. Zetana didn’t flinch. She didn’t get angry. She just offered me a tiny, pitying smile, the kind of smile an adult gives a toddler who insists they can fly. "Oh. Okay."

She turned and casually walked away, taking a sip of her water as she vanished into the warm-up area.

I stood there, my fists clenching so hard my fake nails bit into my palms.

That girl is completely insane! How dare she?! How fucking dare she talk down to me like I’m some pathetic amateur! "Third place?" I am going to rip that smug, arrogant look right off her face! I can’t wait to see her expression when the scores go up and she sees my name sitting right on top of her! I was infinitely better than her! Sure, fine, her transitions were a little smoother than mine, but I did way harder technical elements! My spins were faster! Of course I’m going to win!

I stomped back over to where Scarlett was standing near the official scoring monitor, my breath coming in hot, angry huffs. "That Zetana girl is insanely rude," I growled, crossing my arms over my chest. "She needs to be brought down a couple hundred pegs."

"Just relax," Scarlett muttered, keeping her eyes glued to the dark overhead screen. "The scores are coming up now."

A sharp chime echoed through the public address system. The large digital scoreboard at the center of the arena flickered, lighting up with the official rankings and technical points.

I shoved my way closer to the barrier, my eyes scanning the screen for my name at the top.

My eyes hit the top line.

1. Zetana Ace— 248.50

My heart plummeted into a cold, bottomless abyss. My gaze dragged down to the second line.

2. Lorali Spade — 142.10

I froze. The world around me seemed to lose all its sound, dropping into a sickening, ringing silence. No,. No way. How am I second place?! And... what is that score?!

A full hundred points.

She hadn’t just beaten me. She had completely, utterly obliterated me. A hundred points wasn’t a margin; it was an ocean. It was the difference between a master and a child throwing a tantrum on the ice. It wasn’t even a competition.

Looking at the board, it was exactly what the press had always sneered it was: Zetana and friends. Everyone else sitting beneath her was just filler to make the podium look full.

My blood ran cold, then burst into a scorching, blinding inferno of pure rage. My hands shook. My chest felt like it was going to split open.

How?!How did she get those component scores?! Did she bribe the judges?! Did she sell her soul?! This doesn’t make any damn sense! She beat me by a mile!

Beside me, Scarlett let out a loud, hysterical gasp, clapping her hands together as she grabbed my shoulders and practically squeezed the air out of my lungs.

"Oh my God!" Scarlett squealed, pulling me into a suffocating hug. "You’re on the podium! Lorali, you made the podium! This is the first time a skater I’ve trained has ever reached the top three at a major qualifier! Oh my God, well done!"

I pushed her off me, my face twisted into a scowl of pure hatred as I stared at her. "I am not happy about this! How are you happy about this?! It’s second place!"

Scarlett blinked at me, her smile faltering as she looked around nervously to see if anyone was watching my outburst. "Oh, come on, Lorali! Be realistic! You couldn’t have honestly thought you were better than Zetana today! You saw her, her turns were cleaner, her jump execution was far more difficult, and her skating skills are lightyears ahead! Let’s just be happy with second place! You qualified for the regional tryouts!"

She leaned in, grabbing my forearm with a firm, warning grip. "Smile. No one likes a sportsman with a bad attitude."

"It’s not a bad attitude!" I hissed through gritted teeth, tearing my arm out of her grip. "I am just telling the absolute truth! The scoring is rigged!"

"Calm down!" Scarlett snapped in a low whisper, her eyes flashing with stern authority. "There are going to be cameras on you in five seconds, and we need this platform if we’re going to secure sponsorships! Don’t worry, you will beat Zetana one day in the future. This is just a little local competition. Wait until regional tryouts, then we can worry about taking her down."

I glared at her, my jaw locked tightly.

Regional tryouts, Fine. Regional tryouts. I’ll beat her there. I will have to beat her there. I will wipe that smug, arrogant look off her stupid face if it is the absolute last thing I do on this earth!

"Lorali! Over here!"

Before I could even take a breath to compose myself, a horde of reporters suddenly swarmed around the edges of the media zone, pushing past the security tape like a pack of hungry wolves. Microphones were thrust over the glass barrier, flashbulbs exploding directly in my face, blinding me with streaks of white light.

I forced a tight, polite smile onto my face, expecting questions about my footwork or my technical sequence.

"Lorali! Are you the Spade Omega?!" a male reporter shouted over the din, pushing his recorder inches from my chin.

"Is it true you’re the Second Omega of the Spade Pack?" another woman yelled, her camera clicking continuously. "Your birth name is listed on the official roster as Alma! Your records show you were raised in an orphanage!"

"Are you returning to the Spade Pack following your podium finish today?!"

"What is your relationship with the Spade Alpha?!"

The artificial smile froze on my lips. The cold air in my lungs felt like broken glass.

It hit me all at once, a heavy, suffocating realization that crushed whatever pride I had left. When the announcer had called my name over the loudspeakers, they hadn’t used my chosen identity. They had called me by my official, government-registered name. Lorali Spade. It was Alma before, I became apart of the spade pack though I always refer to myself as Lorali Alma, legally I am Lorali Spade

That was why there were so many reporters here today. That was why the media was crowding around me instead of swarming Zetana, the actual winner of the competition. They didn’t care about my figure skating. They didn’t care about my landing technique, my spins, or the months of brutal training I had endured to get onto that ice. They only cared about the scandal. They wanted gossip.

Oh, come on. A big moment for me... my first real athletic achievement... and it’s completely hijacked by the Spade Pack. Great. Absolutely fucking great