Serene Sky~

A peaceful, negotiable blue that is open to all experiences and pushes away the unfortunate biases that plague closed-thinking.

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At the blaring rock music of my alarm going off, I wake up in the warm arms of Leonardo Costa.

When I open my eyes against the fatigue of morn, he's already looking at me. Staring at me closely.

Our pillow-creased faces are mere inches apart. The heat radiating off of his bare body is enough to set me on fire, despite that no blankets cover him. Leo smells like my sheets mixed with a hint of sweat and hair oil. I love it.

The sweet, lingering air of a scandalous night spent without bodily reservation hangs around us in clouds. His muscled legs intertwine nicely with mine, twisting not dissimilarly from the way we twist layouts on the floor exercise. 

Messy, bedhead locks of brown hair frame his imposing forehead. His eyes intensely search mine for any sign that I didn't enjoy the time we spent last night or that I may be regretting it. Why would I regret such a thing?

Under his immense scrutiny that's almost comical given the intense guitar riffs screaming in the dorm room, I laugh hard. He still looks at me.

"Alarm offffff." I mutter, groggily scooping up the iPod and shutting the Metallica song off. 

When I turn to face him, he's busy studying our intertwined bodies with prime fascination. I meet his gaze, shifting my body so that our hips nudge softly. He opens his mouth to say something, but  presses a kiss to my forehead instead. When his lips lift off my skin, he leans back to measure my reaction.

I grin at him, touching the spot on my head. He sighs in relief.

"What?" I mumble, staring at the dip of his chin. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Leo snorts, pulling us both to a shared seated position. I undo my thigh from between his knees so that we're seated side by side. With his arm around my waist, we lean tiredly on each other for ample support. I yawn.

"Did you sleep okay?" He avoids my question. 

"Hmm." My shoulder shoves into him, forcing him to fall over on the bed. I hurry to stand up to get away from him, making it known that I don't care for his obscuring of the truth. 

We've understood each other on a far more personal level than I'd ever thought possible last night. For him to deny me information now? Unheard of.

"Haha!" Leo grabs my wrist before I can go, using me to help him stand up off the mattress. When he manages to straighten alongside me, I feel the soft tickle of his lips against my shoulder blade. 

The red of his personality seeps into me, trailing like a hot cloth over my body. Not in any sexual way, but in a severely appreciative way that has my stomach filling with joy. I can't place why I'm feeling this or how, but I am. 

After giving up my snowballing denial against feeling anything for Leo last night, I feel freer. Safer. And I hope he does too.

"Leo." I force myself to pull away from his embrace. We have a Friday practice to go to yet, and we can't be late to training. We still have to main our strong work ethic and attend the London Olympics. He can't be kissing me all morning.

"Okay, okay." His boyish grin catches me off guard and I nearly stumble when going to pick up our pants from the floor. He easily catches the pair of sweatpants I toss his way and pulls them on fast. As we get dressed, the enthusiasm on his face drops little by little.

He must be thinking about his mother.

"Hey, Leo." I walk to him, tossing my arms around his neck and shaking him a little. "You'll be okay. I'm sure your mom will love to see you on Facetime and call you after practices. You even said so yourself last night. She understands you have gymnastics, Leo. And-"

"She's not the problem." Leo shakes his head and sighs under my arms. "My father is. I'm not going back to Brazil which will make him happy. But now the stakes are higher in competition. If I can't win..."

He trails off, and I don't think I want to hear the answer. His unease instills in me a sick feeling of dread for him and his family. Of course the stakes are higher with more sacrifice on the line. The amount of pressure he must be feeling is worrisome.

I wish everything would be okay for him, no matter if he wins or loses the Olympics. Winning never became so important to me in life until Coach Kan made it important. I don't really care for winning against Leonardo anymore.

 A medal is just a medal after all. 

That's when it hits me.

"Leo, I-"

I stop myself before I can tell him my new, brightly brewing plan. There's no way he'll go along with it, no way that he'll want me to sacrifice something so high-valued. He'll be angry with me, call me unfair for doing it to myself.

So I simply won't tell him.

"What, Jungkook?" Leo asks, blinking those intense, dark eyes at me.

"It'll be okay." I lean in slowly, pressing a kiss to his mouth. His lips part in surprise, but he kisses me back. It's a tired kiss but firm nonetheless. I hope it carries the passion of my thoughts and the determination in my mind into him. Even if my plan hurts Coach Kan, my family, or my country, I have to do so.

No matter the cost, I WILL help Leonardo Costa win gold at the Olympics.

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"Solid, Jeon. Those were solid."

At practice today, Jungkook's training group is on pommel horse. Coach Kan has assigned him the task of completing several rounds of scissors without stumbling once, lest he repeat the endless sequence over again. 

Jungkook completed the task without fail and now sips his water bottle, casually stealing glances at Leo and Donnell who work on pommel handstand transitions.

Kan catches Jungkook staring at Costa and waves a dismissive hand, mistaking his mentee's watch for something else. "Don't worry, Jeon. Costa has nothing on your handstands. You're already two tenths above his score as long as you perform up to par. Which you'll do."

"Right." Jungkook has to bite back a smile when Leo meets his eye contact mid handstand. 

Carefully, the Brazilian lowers himself to a hover on the pommel horse, staring at Jungkook the entire while. No one would guess his upside down gaze was on the Korean. He could be looking out at the mirrors, the wall, the other mats, or nothing at all. But Jungkook knows that Leo is peering right at him by the happy lurches in his aura.

The raging vermillion plumes swirling around Leo show hints of poignant outsider colors such as yellow and purple. A certain sign that Jungkook is rubbing off on Leo as much as the latter has rubbed off on him. It makes the Korean immensely joyous to hold such an effect on Leo.

"Jeon?" Kan snaps his fingers a few times.

Jungkook turns to face his coach, biting the smile down to a determined line. "Sorry?"

"I said, we're doing more interviews tomorrow in the atrium of the Phoenix center. A bunch of journalists from London and elsewhere are going to be collecting answers. You better tell them that you're winning the Olympics." Kan points at him and lifts stern eyebrows. "None of the 'I'll do my best' bullshit. The people want confidence or else they won't cheer. The judges respect a fighter, not an over-humble wimp. You're an international champion. Better than the world. Remember that, Jeon."

Blinking at the sudden barrage of compliments, Jungkook nods meekly. But for Kan, this isn't enough. 

So Jungkook stares at the man whom he has called coach for the last ten years and lies straight to his face without a single tug of guilt in his decided guts.

"I will win, Coach. I will."

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"Take a seat please, Jungkook."

Pulled from the middle of practice, Jungkook could be described as nothing less than unsettled. Regardless, he plants himself in the cold seat in the health check-up room and stares curiously at the woman who has summoned him. While she walks slowly around the large desk of her conference room, he bites the inside of his cheek in anticipation of what she's going to say.

"I'm sure you're wondering why you're here, and why I brought you so suddenly. I apologize for that by the way." Trainer Snowden sits down, brushing a black ponytail off of her shoulder with the sophisticated poise of a self-confident advisor. "But this was my only free hour to talk. I hope you understand that."

Without offering an explanation for his being here, Snowden motions to him as if this is all the reason in the world. He cracks his neck uncomfortably and swallows.

Did someone in the dorms catch drift of the explicit night shared by the two top male gymnasts? Were him and Leo reported? Will he be scolded harshly like a child who has turned to the dark side?

"I understand." Jungkook says as politely as he can. He doesn't realize his neon Adidas shoe is nervously jittering next to the chair's leg until Snowden pointedly stares at it. He crosses his legs to stop the movement and smiles the best he can.

"Do you know why you're here?" Snowden asks seriously, folding her hands across the expanse of the wide desk. Like Garcia's, her desk is littered with a heartfelt assortment of picture frames, knick-knacks, and juxtaposed certifications in various physical and mental health fields. 

"Um, no. I don't."

"Really?" Snowden doesn't blink.

Jungkook keeps mum at the question. For all he knows, this could be a test to obtain the evidence needed to get him in trouble. Innocent until proven guilty, the saying goes, and any self-disclosure may well result in him receiving painful reprimand.

"I don't know why I'm here." Jungkook sits up a little straighter as if challenging this advisor to accuse him of something that doesn't hold any basis in evidence. "I really don't."

There's no way anyone could know about him and Leo last night, unless Leo told them himself.  Jungkook knows that's an impossibility. Without Leo's word-of-mouth, footage could have raised the alarm. Perhaps there are hidden hallway cameras in the dorm that he hasn't been notified about. 

But still, those cameras wouldn't prove anything. 

Leonardo Costa entering Jungkook's room and not emerging until daylight could be the result of passing out after a long practice. There were no rules stating that male gymnasts couldn't visit each other's rooms. Jungkook knows that the chatty Europeans and wild Americans on their floor do anything but keep to themselves. They're constantly visiting, talking loudly, and laughing boisterously on weekends.

"Jungkook, have you been associating with McKayla Maroney?" The question seemingly comes out of nowhere. 

He curses himself for not expecting Snowden to ask about McKayla. The words shock him so much that he's rendered silent for a few moments while he collects his thoughts. Snowden gazes at him from under her glasses frames, pondering his silence.

"Yes, I have." He decides to be honest. 

Simply 'associating' with McKayla Maroney doesn't imply that she spent the night sleeping on his bed. Plus, even if they did find dirt on him and McKayla, he'd be happy to tell them that he did not sleep with her. He crashed on the floor that night while she took the bed after they talked for hours about everything and nothing. McKayla spending a night in his bed doesn't warrant harsh punishment.

The same bed, Jungkook untimely recalls with a mild flush, that him and Leonardo Costa slept on last night after their heated hours of colorful and racy pleasure-

"You've heard what Maroney is getting in trouble for, correct?"

Jungkook's brows furrow at the sudden question. This, he did not expect. With effort, he holds back his tongue. If he says anything that alludes to McKayla on the third floor, he is going to get caught.

"No...I didn't hear anything. She didn't tell me whatever she's getting in trouble for." Jungkook does his best not to come off as defensive. Any visible sign of his stress might translate into suspicion. "Why is she in trouble?"

Snowden tilts her head. "She vandalized the women's locker room. Dented lockers, trashed the bench, and left a pre-tty nasty note on the inside of a gymnast's locker. She must heavily dislike the girl, given the obnoxiously mean message..." Snowden leans forward, her elbows resting on her knees. "And you say you don't know about this? Well, how is that possible, given the damage done? Only someone extremely strong could dent the locker. From what I've gathered, McKayla has no other male friends that could be her accomplice in the matter...other than yourself."

Jungkook stands up off the chair, his lips moving violently to ascertain his innocence. "What! I haven't heard of this until now, and you're accusing me? How are you even sure McKayla did it?"

Snowden eyes the Korean with clear disdain at his raised voice. Carefully, she unfolds her hands, motioning to the paper she has splayed across the surface as if it will explain everything. When Jungkook only grimaces, she holds it up for him to see. At the top in bold red font is the header Athlete Evaluation. McKayla's full name sits under it.

"Told me herself that she did it." Snowden deadpans.

Jungkook crosses his arms, afraid and angry at the same time. "But she didn't say that I did it with her."

"You're right." Snowden sets the paper down and smooths it back in place. "But she didn't say that you didn't. And a few rumors are going around the complex that McKayla has heart eyes for you. What might happen if she accidentally gossiped to a teammate, and they wanted to spread lies about you both? What might McKayla or you do to shut that person up? Maybe vandalize a locker?"

Irritated by the patronizing tone in Snowden's voice, Jungkook snarls internally. "I didn't vandalize anything. I don't know about the rumors, either. McKayla and I are just friends."

Snowden waits a beat for him to say more. When he doesn't, she stands up. 

"Alright. There are cameras pointing at the entrances of the locker rooms. I didn't want to bring this up to Mr. Garcia, but the footage must be examined. Like McKayla, I would have hoped you'd fess up, Jungkook. You know that honesty is the best policy if you want to avoid harsher discipline than McKayla is receiving."

Jungkook stills. "What's going to happen to her?"

A throat gets cleared. "Well, she'll remain in the Olympics. However, she no longer has access to the locker room. She's getting the full extent of the damages charged to her room, and she's on constant close watch from her coach until camp ends."

"Oh." Jungkook's stomach drops. He sees all the chances of seeing McKayla again slip out from his hands. He finds himself slightly pissed off since McKayla never informed him through text or call about her unlawful act. Why didn't she tell him?

"Anyway. You can go back to practice. We'll review the tapes, and the true culprit will be caught." Snowden dismisses Jungkook from the room with a loose hand, ushering him out so she can get back to whatever she accomplishes in her dark lair of an office. 

Jungkook feels himself growing disappointed by the once innocent rosy aura of McKayla. He thought he could trust her to stay out of trouble so they wouldn't be found out, but it seems her passionate anger got the best of her.

"Why?" Jungkook mumbles to himself, walking along the corridors of the complex back to practice. "Why would you vandalize another girl's locker?"

A few theories pass through Jungkook's mind. McKayla isn't violent by nature, so it must have been prompted by something. She did mention her hatred for her annoying and judgmental teammates to Jungkook before, so the appropriate animosity is there. But the reason isn't.

Was she trying to prevent a rumor from getting out? Protect her and Jungkook's image by threatening the girl? But what would she get out of trashing a locker other than trouble? It doesn't make sense.

As Jungkook approaches the locker rooms, he stares at the female door partially disturbed. He never even went in there. The cameras will show that much. Even on the day McKayla retrieved a Gatorade bottle for him, he never entered the space. At least he has solid proof going for him, if his association with McKayla seems to imply the contrary.

The door to the men's locker room creaks open. A face peers out at him.

Jungkook grins brightly, happy for the distraction.

"Hurry." Leo whispers, motioning him in the doorway. "Hurry, we only have ten minutes before we're on vault, and Donnell is talking with his coach right now."

Jungkook lifts his eyebrows but says nothing, excitement overtaking his senses as he parades into the empty locker room without another glance at the female side.

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note from authAURA~

hi,

pls make sure you're eating well and drinking well and taking care of yourself since your body is the only physical medium communicating between this world and your internal one. you need to preserve it for a while! and that means optimal conditioning, priming with regular sustenance, and staying positive to bolster your finer capacities.

without further ado, pls radiate serene sky today because you can't let closed-thinking get you!

sincerestingly,

.izzy.