Blah, blah. Self loathing. Blah, blah. Hunter's a f***ing perfectionist. CW: Weed, forms of self harm / bruising / self-hatred, etc. Enjoy.
 

The harsh screech of metal blades carving into the ice reverberated through the empty arena like a battle cry. Hunter propelled himself across the gleaming surface with powerful strides, his jaw clenched in intense determination.

He was alone tonight - just the way he preferred it lately. No prying eyes, no distractions, nothing to disrupt Hunter from confronting his deepest demons through the only way he knew how: pouring every ounce of raw emotion into his skating.

This ritual had become his sole obsession over the past several months, an attempt to absolve himself through sheer physical punishment and perfection of his craft. If he skated hard enough, long enough, honing every jump and spin into absolute precision, maybe - just maybe - he could outrun the guilt steadily devouring him from the inside.

Hunter transitioned into his first jump sequence, launching himself into the air with a ferocious athleticism. His body arched and twisted in a dazzling spiral - quad lutz, triple axel, quad toe loop. Landed in textbook form, not even a wobble on the landings. A small, grim smile crept across his sweat-slicked face at sticking the immensely difficult combination.

But it wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

So he fed off that caged anguish bubbling within him, channeling those bruised emotions directly into his movements. The rage and self-loathing over what he had sacrificed with a single, careless mistake. The all-consuming shame of failing his closest friend when she needed him most. And the desperate, ravenous hunger to feel that all-consuming fire of competition again - to be the best no matter what it cost him.

Because at his pinnacle, before the accident, Hunter had been utterly sublime. An ethereal force of physicality and artistic prowess on the ice, destined for the sort of immortal greatness reserved only for the sport's legends. He and Ophelia had been unstoppable, their incandescent partnership unlike anything the figure skating world had ever seen.

Until Hunter's arrogance and obsession with perfection destroyed it all in one stupidly reckless instant.

He shuddered at the memory of Ophelia's fragile body crumpled on that unforgiving ice, the way her anguished screams mingled with the clatter of breaking bones still replaying in Hunter's skull on an endless, torturous loop. A white-hot flash of anger knifed through him at his role in ripping away her dreams - perhaps their last opportunity at achieving immortality together on the biggest stage.

The fury propelled him into a blistering step sequence, Hunter practically snarling through each intricate footwork pattern like a caged animal. Every slashing shoulder movement, dramatic twisting of his spine and carved edge radiated his inner turmoil for the world to witness, even if no other eyes were currently taking it in.

This rink had become his own personal hell to marathon through, night after night. Pushing past physical limitations until his body was drenched in sweat and threatening to give out. The more he depleted himself, the better. Hunter deserved that rawness consuming every muscle, that beautiful brutality of skating greatness that risked destruction with any mistimed lapse in focus.

In a sense, he was punishing himself the only way he could comprehend. Hunter refused to let any stint tonight feel unearned, because that's what had led him to those fateful moments where self-indulgent complacency made him cost that which mattered most. No, he would fight for every second of time on this ice, just as he should have been fighting alongside Ophelia with every fiber of their beings.

So he kept skating through the ambient silence, interrupted only by the shredding of his blades and his own ragged breathing echoing back at him. Hunched over at one point in exhaustion, sweat cascading down Hunter's body. He blinked moisture from his eyes - from exertion or silent tears, even he couldn't tell anymore. Whichever they were, Hunter refused to yield, refused to acknowledge any weakness.

When he finally straightened back upright, it was with the hollow, dead-eyed stare of somebody shutting down emotionally. Time for his final revolutions.

Hunter tore across the ice, building up his speed and rotation for an audacious quad axel. A jump only the sport's ultra-elite dared even attempt, with the insane amount of spins required courting near-guaranteed disaster. But Hunter refused to settle for any less than impossibility tonight.

As he coiled into the air, contorting his body with such serrated power and aggression, everything seemed to fall away in that fleeting eternity of flight. Just him, the cold stillness, and the void of solitude he had created around himself. A prison of his own making.

But like all things, gravity inevitably reclaimed Hunter's mortal form, dragging him back down hard onto that unforgiving sheet of ice.

Metal crunched against the surface with a violent shudder as Hunter tumbled and crashed through the final rotations - two, three, four...a wild lurch of his shoulder sending fresh shocks of pain radiating outward. Just as he somehow managed to deck the landing on one set of blades, an ankle twisted sickeningly beneath him on the other.

He skidded to a tangled, messy halt and simply laid there on the ice, sucking in ragged gulps of air to combat the lava coursing through his body. Hunter stared up into the dimly lit rafters unblinkingly, giving no hint of being fazed by his brutal wipeout whatsoever. Just remaining numb and motionless like a discarded ragdoll.

Only when his limbs started trembling uncontrollably from the sustained brutality did Hunter finally accept defeat for the evening. With a pained grunt, he dragged his battered body upright and limped off the ice, making sure to grab the small plastic baggie stashed in his gear bag on the way.

Once inside the locker room, Hunter peeled off his sweat-soaked clothes, shivering slightly as the cool air washed over his overheated frame. A grimace twisted his features as his fingers traced the fresh scrapes and bruises already mottling his skin - reminders of his relentless pursuit of perfection.

In the back of his foggy mind, Hunter knew he should probably seek medical attention for what was assuredly a sprained ankle or worse. But that was a voice drowned out by different needs, and a simpler kind of pain management.

With his body on that precarious edge between numbness and agony, Hunter twisted off the plastic baggie to reveal his chosen remedy: a stash of premium weed and a lighter. Flicking the flame to life, he ignited the joint and eagerly suckled in that first precious lungful of smoke like a man half-drowned finally reaching air.

The harsh vapors singed his throat in deliciously familiar fashion, already beginning to spread tendrils of psychoactive tranquility outward from Hunter's core. His eyes slid shut as he savored the initial lurching tide of delirious calm slowly unspooling his abused nerve endings.

Some distant part of Hunter knew he was far past self-medicating at this point, and well into straight self-destruction. To keep chasing the same vicious cycles of physically punishing himself on the ice, only to smoke, drink, and numb it all away after. It was an insulated bubble of isolated torment that afforded neither growth nor redemption.

But as Hunter took another greedy toke, his lungs savoring the sticky smoke unfurling within, he simply didn't give a f*** anymore. Not about his health, his dwindling self-worth, or even attempting to rebuild the shattered pieces of his former life.

All those concerns were just static in the void clouding Hunter's mind as he surrendered fully to the lurid pull of intoxicated oblivion. The harsh realities would keep until morning, until he was forced to drag his wrecked body back onto the ice to start the whole cycle anew.

For now, blissful nothing beckoned with sweet, seductive release to dull the gnawing ache inside. So Hunter inhaled deeply and fully embraced its stifling, suffocating caress.