He sees it.I know he does.
But he doesn't push.
Just nods once, like a promise or a truce, and turns away.
The door clicks behind him.
I stand there, notebook still open, hand hovering over the pen like I forgot what I was doing.
Which is ridiculous.I've never been clearer.I didn't just carve the slogan.I carved my place.
Chapter 2
Welcome To the Circus
Playlist:
Hugh Jackman and the Crew: The Greatest Show
Dan Auerbach: Run That Race
Sölden, Austria, first race of the season, October 30
Katharina
Fans shouting, cameras clicking, and cowbells ringing in my ears.
Skiing fans love their cowbells, ringing them with wild enthusiasm, though that doesn't stop them from blasting the usual fan horns at full volume.Together, they turn the stadium into a narrow corridor of adrenaline, the kind that makes you wish you'd remembered earplugs.
We swim in the sea of red and white, as Austrian flags flutter all around.It's not just Austrians here.The entire skiing world arrived to kickstart the season, and the organizers handed out Austrian flags free of charge, something to cheer up the home athletes.
As they ski down into what seems like a red-white ocean of love.
It's day two of the season, but this—Sölden men's Giant Slalom—this is the real opener.The highlight.The launchpad.
Everyone in the skiing branch has been counting down since August, pretending they enjoyed the summer heat like normal people.
Now we're here.
The Rettenbach Glacier looms behind us, absurdly steep, like it's daring anyone to make it clean to the bottom.
Brutal icy terrain that turns super-hard titan-plated skis bend like jelly, high altitude, thinning the air, and stealing your breath.
Zero margin for error.
I shift my weight on the cushioned chair, my throat tightening.
Check my notes and pretend my hands are shivering from cold, not anticipation.
It's time.
