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She finished her warm up just in time to see two of her teammates smirking and gossiping about her. Trixie held her head up high as she prepared to go through her balance beam routine in their gym one last time before their trip to Moscow.
"She's convinced she'll win gold at Worlds," she overheard one of them say as they both giggled.
They weren’t lying. They might not have faith in her abilities, but Trixie was confident that she would win a gold medal at Worlds next week. In fact, she was certain of it. That wasn't even a thought that crossed her head.
Trixie knew exactly what she wanted in life: to win a gold medal in the Olympics. Nothing was going to stop her, not her family's social standing, her coaches' constant complaints about her lack of flexibility, and certainly not a couple of skinny teens who liked to gossip about her.
Sure, she didn't have the typical winning features for a gymnast. She was taller than the rest of the girls. Her body was curvy even though she was muscular, but it just made her more willing to learn and excel in all of her routines. Today she was training next to the boys on the balance beam. It was one of the humiliating things her coaches liked to do with her, set her apart as if she wasn’t as important as the other girls. They said she had a masculine body, that she wasn’t like the other girls. Trixie pretended these comments didn’t bother.
Trixie had a great plan to turn her life around. She had all figured it out at the age of nine when she left her mother and siblings behind in their small town to train in the big city. Her first step would be to win the World Championship in the individual category, and then she'd be guaranteed a spot in the next Olympics. She'd win the gold medal and return to her gym as a hero. She'd then tell her skinny teammates to eat shit. Yes, that was a brilliant strategy. Fuck those skinny girls and those old hagged coaches. She’d prove them all wrong even if she had to stuff all of her feelings of rejection and loneliness down into herself. It would all come to a great ending, she was sure of it. She knew that because she was one of the few American gymnasts that would be boarding a plane en route to the world artistic gymnastics championships finals next week. And if the plane didn’t explode in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean she was going to win first place in the floor individual category.
“Straight legs, Beatrice! Don’t make me regret taking you to worlds,” one of the coaches screamed from the sideline.
She wanted to say "fuck you," but she didn't. She'd say it at some point. One of her favorite pastimes was daydreaming about how one day she'd tell all these people to stick it where the sun doesn’t shine. Granted, Trixie didn’t have many hobbies. It was a busy stressful life trying to be an Olympic athlete. Online school, hours and hours of training, no relationships, few friends, even less money.
Trixie had come from a poor family. Her mom was a single mom and worked very hard to get Trixie and her siblings what they needed. That also meant that she was never really around. So when these random people offered Trixie a place at the regional training center six hours away from home at the age of nine she didn’t think twice.
She wasn’t naive, never had been even at the age of nine - there was nothing for her in her little town. There was nothing for none of them, really. Trixie, now nineteen, was more than willing to repay her mother for everything she had done for her. It all depended on that one performance at Worlds. Her mom, her siblings and her own future all depended on it. She had stacked all of their cards on it. So yeah, Trixie would love to tell everyone to fuck themselves and never walk back but at that point giving up wasn’t an option.
Also, Trixie Mattel never gave up.
Trixie shifted back to the balance beam to continue her routine. Her mind was racing today, making it difficult for her to concentrate. That generally happened when she got a phone call from her family. Her sister Bella had called the night before to tell her their mom was sick again. Bella had taken on extra shifts at the diner she worked at since they couldn't afford to pay the doctors. She wanted to drop out of high school so she could work more. Trixie screamed at the phone. Bella screamed back. “You were never here anyways, you left, Trixie! You don’t know what it is like. Fuck you.” Bella was a little kid when she left. This was their first real fight.
She took a deep breath and pushed the voice of her sister to the back of her mind. “ Compartmentalize, Trixie”, she told herself. She didn't even notice her coach had come back.
“You know if you get into your head like that Zamolodchikova is going to eat you alive, right?”
Yekaterina Zamolodchikova, the 25 years old Russian gymnast, also known as one of Trixie’s many sleeping demons. Zamolodchikova was hardly a newcomer to the sport, but she was still a mystery. She'd won a silver medal in the Olympics at the age of sixteen, had a successful career up until she was 22 years old, and then - nothing. She was gone like magic.
Some speculate that she had hurt herself. According to some, she had psyched herself out. Others - well, there was a whole talk about her sexuality and mother Russia’s aversion to homosexuality. But those were merely rumors passed down through the grapevine. In reality, the blonde Russian never made a public statement when she left and she also didn’t say anything when she’d come back.
Trixie had competed in the previous two world championships, both of which Zamolodchikova had missed. Trixie had only competed in the team event, though. She was competing in the individual category for the first time this year, on the balancing beam as well as her favorite event, the floor. She was confident that she could outscore any of her colleagues on the floor, and that no other country could compete with her. China was strong but they had their best floor athlete injured this season. So you see, this was Trixie’s year. She’d gone to hell and back to earn that spot. Then, unexpectedly, just months before the competition, Russia announced a team change. Yekaterina Zamolodchikova had returned to the scene. Trixie had no idea where she came back from. Probably from the pits of hell. They'd only seen the Russian's routine twice, but it was evident that Zamolodchikova had worked hard. The routine was quite challenging, and the blonde gymnast executed it perfectly. She was Trixie’s only threat and therefore Trixie hated her.
Yekaterina Zamolodchikova was not only a brilliant gymnast and a mystery, but she was also stunning . Skinny but athletic figure, with thick blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. She was shorter than Trixie (and who wasn't?) and she constantly wore bright red lipstick that made her lips appear even fuller. Trixie, if she weren't a gymnast herself, would undoubtedly support Zamolodchikova.
Her sense of style and makeup selections were nothing like Trixie's, but she was delighted that she had them at all. Her team's members preferred to wear traditional makeup. Their hair styles were boring. Trixie was obsessed with make-up, hair, and fashion. She wore bright colors on her eyes almost everyday. She hated her boring brown hair so she dyed it plastic blonde. She didn’t have much money for clothing but it wasn’t like she was going places anyway. In their respective teams, she and Zamolodchikova stood out. They were both older and they were both bolder. If only they weren’t competitors. Trixie would love to have a companion like that in her team. Instead, she had these young dull teens who knew nothing about style.
"Mattel, stop daydreaming and go back to the beam!”, her coach screamed from the other side of the gym.
Trixie cursed under her breath before getting back to her training. Well, she was going to have to take down Zamolodchikova. Sorry to that girl.