Old Money, New Love

Drag

Noah :

Remember how I said after the mistakes I have made, the dictation of all the decisions committed by none other than me is slowly creeping up on me from behind. 

Maybe something other than dictation caused by regret but karma. Karma can be a bitch sometimes. Like right now. Karma had just begun to take its deadly course and walk into my life.

What woman? Her mother? Me and Coach had just driven half an hour just to be told that the person that we had driven here for had a hospital transfer. It was like Sophie's fate was running from me, using this stupid chase as a merry dance distraction.

"Well? Tell us who she was." Coach stabbed a finger into the counter whilst pinning a glare into the poor desk lady's face. I would laugh but this is no laughing matter. Finding Sophie was my priority.

"I'm sorry sir but that is confidential information." She covered her palms atop each other on her waist, a grimace enlightening her expression implying that she was no one to be bribed or manipulated. How disappointing, they don't usually come this imperative.

There had to be another way to find out what hospital she was at.

"Would you share a description of the woman's appearance?" If I was going to do this with maximised determination I had to play out all the cards I had in my deck. Right now, there was one left. " That is not confidential information. I know for a fact that under HIPAA does not include anything concluding that it is illegal that a staff member or employee of a hospital to refrain from informing one with this content." I allow my knowledge to wash away a good fraction of my anxiety in attempt of finding some kind of loophole.

"Blonde. Very pale curly haired woman. She seemed to be Russian, she claimed to be the adult of responsibility for the girl. We double checked her classification, she is certified to be so." After several moments of hesitation the lady finally breathed word. "She requested to change location of care, but unfortunately I cannot say more."

The moment my brain had registered what she had just said, my first incentive was to look at Coach.

It couldn't be. How did she even reach the hospital before we did?

Madame Angpol.

She matched every description stated. So much so it was nearly uncanny if you could visualise it.

"Fuck." I cursed under my breath.

Coach was looking back at me with an expression like a photo frame that held the same emotions.

Before I could even think of what I was going to do next, we were both hastily trudging towards the retractable doors. But as soon as we stepped foot outside, Coach stopped walking.

"What is it?" I latched onto the width of his shoulder, "I'm sorry kid." He let out a sigh forming a curtain of frost midair. "We know it's her. We have to go back. What are you waiting for?" I threw my hand in the direction of his car.

"I agreed to take you to the hospital. Not to be sucked into a chase I don't want to run." He shook his head looking down and avoiding any eye contact with me, knowing it would just make it harder for him to detach himself from the situation.

My jaw tensed up like a big round ball or rubbed bands scraping against my teeth like asphalt slowly contracting itself tighter as I accepted my fate. This sucked. As soon as I tied up a loose end, someone else comes by and untied it leaving all the beads to slowly roll off the string.

"Okay." I've never had to sacrifice or negotiate my side of the deal before, ever. But that's what coaches are meant to do. It's their job to frequently test us as pull our asses out of our comfort zone, but I just hope he understood I was already way out of bounds for even thinking of doing this so why not go further?

"Now I'm going to take you back; and you are going back to your dorm room. You are going to ignore every word Russell says about you coming back in so late, and you are going to sleep knowing that the girl is alright and is going to be taken care of. Okay? No negotiations." Coach begins walking away from me and towards the car.

I could just feel the forbidden emotion pricking my eyes and threatening to make me do the said forbidden, but right now all I could do was just follow his instructions and have faith in Sophie's recovery.

Unfortunately, everything that I had preached earlier obviously wasn't doing me any good, seeing as I was mentally sending a great big fuck you to my life with both hands and walking away from it.

Just as Coach told me to, yes I was being a good team player, I was walking back to my quarters. Well, I did have to stop for a little commercial break in this TV show. Have a break from the drama. Or not.

I spotted Madame Angpol standing right by the barrier of the ice rink, her distinguished mink coating her shoulders and a cigar lodged between her lips and index finger.

"A little bit late to be out of bed don't you think Madame?" I queried calmly turning on my heel and stepping around the pillar that I spent enough vacationing by. I was always calm during these moments where I anticipated my victory, relatively controlled.

"Mr Alcocer, might I find the delectation in asking you the same question." She turned towards me, shielding herself from showing the  trepidation in her face that only I could see, that only I could filter out with the pool of desperation within me that was slowly beginning to boil to an un registrable value.

There's no hurt in exposing the truth when the truth is that she snuck her way into the system and transferred a patient. "It seems that during my visit to see a certain someone, I was intruded by the acknowledgment that someone had come before us. You." She knew. She knew that I'd come, but something I can't wrap my head around is why on earth would she request a transferral?

"And?"
"You requested a transferral."

I watched as she swallowed down her guilt along with a breath of the cigar.

"I needed her to focus."
"Focus on what?"
"Don't be stupid Alcocer! Once she wakes up her competition is nearly immediate. She'll get a week at most, and I don't need you waltzing in and ruining Brighton's slightest chance of winning."

You've got to be fucking kidding me. This is all over a competition? Does she even care about her physical state? It was slowly tipping me over the edge just thinking about the fact that she would even to think to do what she did. Sophie doesn't need a competition right now. She needs support, and not even her own skating coach is considerate enough to.

One moment my quoter for tolerating everything was incinerating, the next I was inches away from ashing a woman's cigar in her mink.

"St Jude's. St Jude's is where she is. Just get it the fuck away!" Madame Angpol shoved me away from her, receding off into the hallway behind. There was arguably no sentiment I shared for her after what she did. Signing a transferral for the reason she did was so obstreperous.

Now that I've tied off this string, I just need to find a way to get to the other end of it.

A/N : guess what, reading the dictionary is my new hobby. Congratulations you will be getting higher quality content now.