Chapter Text
The crowd fell silent after the collective gasp - only cut by the scratch of the microphone.
“Oh no! He fell!” Speedwagon called out, echoing throughout the rink. “What will this mean for his score? Is there any way to come back from this now?”
In the middle of the stark white ice the fallen skater lay, unmoving as the seconds tick by. Slowly, painfully, he attempted to stand only to fall back as his knees buckled underneath him. Muttering spread through the nervous crowd, whispers echoing back Speedwagon’s concerns. They all watched the skater relax into a sitting position, legs splayed at awkward angles, eyes staring off into nowhere.
Joseph Joestar was not one to be kept waiting. He paced around the foyer, not afraid to show off his impatience in his elderly uncle. With each step forward he slammed his heel down, loving the reverberations across the marble flooring and knowing that Speedwagon was sure to hear it.
“Uncle! I’ve been waiting for hours don’t make me leave without you!” He only had to wait a few more paces before an off rhythm set of footsteps interrupted his.
“We both know you wouldn’t.”
Joseph scoffed at the grey-haired man stepping into his vision. “Don’t doubt me!”
Speedwagon moved past Joseph to grab his coat from the closet, slipping into it before answering. “Erina specifically told you to that we would be going together. Do you really want to hear what she would have to say when I tell her that you left without me?”
The older man took Joseph’s silence as his answer and ushered the boy to the taxi waiting outside. They sat in silence after the driver received directions to their destination. It was the quietest the 16-year-old had been since moving to the States, yet while it was unnerving at first Speedwagon began to wonder if it was just nerves. The boy had waited a long time for this moment.
The ride to the edge of New York only took around a half an hour. It was enough to bring back Joseph’s excitement from before. The closer the car got to its destination the more Joseph broke out of his silence. He fiddled with the plastic covering his freshly sharpened blades, nearly pricking himself several times. It had taken years of pestering, but Erina had finally agreed to let her grandson take up skating as move than just a hobby that he did on the pond in his backyard back in England.
The rink rose in front of them, a solid building comprised of thick concrete walls to hold the cold air inside and high windows stretching across the top half. A sign hung above the double door entrance reading “STROHEIM’S the best of the best” in thick cursive script. Joseph scoffed, it better be the best for the membership he was paying for.
He left Speedwagon to handle the taxi as soon as the car slowed to a stop in favor of booking it inside the building.
Inside the bright florescent lights nearly knocked him off his feet, briefly blinding him. Not to be deterred, Joseph sped his way down the chipping concrete steps and wooden benches to the entrance of the ice and player benches. Stroheim’s Rink was a multipurpose rink, used for both skating competitions as well as local hockey games. The locker room designated for the hockey team was always left open for the public when the teams were not practicing, the perfect place to switch from normal tennis shoes to skates. Joseph entered the room and stripped out of his bright red leather jacket down to his tight black under armour. Ever since Granny Erina had decided to let him pick up skating, Joseph had spent hours scouring the internet for the best and most stylish practice outfits he could find, finally settling on buying loads of tight black spandex.
Rudol von Stroheim met him at the entrance.
“Welcome Mr. Joestar! Your friend Speedwagon has told me that you will be joining my rink as a patron starting today.” The imposing man held out to shake Joseph’s hand excitedly. “Honored to have you here but it comes as no surprise that came to me, for this is the best rink outside of Germany!”
“Oh, I’m sure,” the Joestar, voice dripping in sarcasm. After a solid minute of Stroheim continuing his aggressive handshake, Joseph pushed past him and onto the ice for the first time. “It’s been lovely chatting, but I’m here to skate so I’m sure you can find someone else to entertain you.”
“I’ll be back for you when time is up Joestar!” the German called, but Joseph was already in his own world.
The ice was nothing like back on his little frozen pond. There were no tiny bumps to catch his picks, nor tracks from all the days previously. In fact, there was almost no resistance between the glide of his blades and the thick white ice, which ultimately sent Joseph spiraling to the ground several times before he could get used to the alien feeling.
He was tired and his ass hurt by the time he recognized that his name was being called by Stroheim. Joseph skidded to a halt, slamming his hands on the wall to brace himself before he flew over it. He started to miss the roughness of the pond ice.
“Now you say ‘what a wonderful job’,” Joseph said as Stroheim opened his mouth to speak.
“What a wonderful job, Jo-eh!” Stroheim gasped as his speech was stolen from him. “Well, anyway, it’s time to get off the ice we have a reservation at 4.”
“What? No way. I almost have this split jump.”
“You are welcome to come another day.”
“No way old man. I’m a paying customer as well, so they’re just gonna have to deal with it.” Joseph pushed away from the wall and away from the other man, maneuvering one skate to slide behind the other until he was wiggling his way backward towards center ice while maintaining eye contact. “Whoever it is can’t be that important.”
There was a clang from the locker room just as Joseph spun to switch directions, putting him in the direct line of sight for the culprit who had slammed the locker room door closed.
He looked to be a similar age from his build, but his mannerisms were an immediate contrast from Joseph as soon as he set foot on the ice. There was no disconnect, no catch as he moved from solid floor to the ice. He launched into his warm up, paying Joseph no attention as he sliced his way around the edges of the rink.
Blond hair was tied out of his face with a headband decked out with neon colored triangles, but more than that, the speed that he picked up as his footwork increased in complexity kept his shaggy bangs from his focused eyes.
Eyes that refused to acknowledge Joseph’s existence, even as he grapevined past, nearly touching the other. Joseph huffed. This mysterious skater had way too much confidence in such simple moves to the Joestar boy, so he decided so continue with his own skating as planned, reservations be damned.
Joseph started following the blond, imitating his moves with his own showy flair. He knew he had the advantage on the newcomer having already been warmed up for a while now, but he found that the other boy was making up for this lost time fast. The moves got more complex, lunges and single jumps replacing the smooth grapevines. They edged each other faster without acknowledging the other with looks or words, picking up pace until –
“Caesar.” A voice called out through sound of the blades, effectively stopping the blond in his tracks. Joseph narrowly avoided slamming into the back of the boy, pick catching in an attempt to stop as abruptly as his competitor and flinging him into the wall instead.
“Coach, I-“ for the first time since entering the rink the blond skater spoke, but it was short lived.
“Caesar what did I tell you about patience.” Joseph turned around, relaxing against the boards he had just crashed against and searched for the voice’s owner.
She walked on the ice as if she was born to. Joseph had thought the boy, Caesar, was smooth, but his coach seemed to use no effort as she skated closer. Her long black hair was slicked back into a high ponytail, the end whipping out like a tail behind her.
Out of the corner of his eye, Joseph saw Caesar make a bowing motion as he called out, “I’m sorry.”
“Oh well,” the coach responded as she pulled closed. Her waisted dropped behind her black clad legs as they twisted ever so slightly, bringing her to a graceful and effective stop before her pupil. “At least you have already warmed up quite a bit. Start today by working on your axels, I want to build up today from some basics and you have been struggling with that triple lately.”
The blond nodded and set off to do as she asked, leaving the coach’s eyes to wander over to Joseph whistling against the wall. He noticed she huffed a small sigh of annoyance before speaking directly to him.
“As you can see, we have the ice reserved for private training.”
“Hmm sure looks like it doesn’t it.” Joseph made no move to leave.
“Yes, so you can be on your way now.”
“I think I’ll hang around a bit longer,” Joseph moved his gaze from the coach to the boy Caesar as he cut an edge into the ice, lifting himself up for a spin. “I’m not done for the day yet. Thanks for the concern.”
“That was not an offer.”
“Next you’ll tell me to get off the ice,” when she opened her mouth to speak again, Joseph cut her off by continuing, “to which I gotta decline. I’m a paying member here and I’ll get my money’s worth.”
Joseph heard her hum an affirmation before she spoke. “I can appreciate the desire to skate.” She swung her body around so that the young boy was forced to look her in the eyes. “Let Caesar be. He has enough to worry about without pesky flies bothering him in the middle of his routine.”
With that she spun and barked out a command at Caesar’s leg positioning, leaving Joseph taken aback. He stole himself. They had no right to be treating him as if he was some peasant, he decided.
Joseph watched Caesar’s take off a few more times. It looked simple enough, especially after all the jumps he had done back home. One time he had gotten close to a backflip – though he hadn’t quite managed to land that yet. The ‘axel’ or whatever couldn’t be that hard comparatively.
He pushed off from the wall and picked up a decent speed before mimicking what he had seen from the blond boy. He pushed his left leg back for a first spurt of momentum, swinging it around as he then pushed off his right blade to achieve the initial jump. Next, he pulled his left leg in to complete the circle, but he soon realized his mistake as his balance midair was thrown off. It was too late to correct, and he landed skidding to the ice.
A scoff came from the center of the rink, alerting the boy that Caesar had seen the fall. Joseph heard the slice of the blades cut closer to him before the light spray of ice as Caesar pulled up short in front of him.
“Didn’t you know that the beginners class was at twelve?”
Joseph brought himself up with a sneer, noticing the slight advantage he had over the other boy in height.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, wannabe.”
“Wannabe?” Caesar scoffed. “Do you even know who I am?”
Joseph pretended to ponder the question for a moment. “Nope, I guess I only know people who actually matter.”
He could have sworn that Caesar literally growled before his coach settled her hand and his shoulder.
“Pay him no mind, Caesar.”
“Coach Lisa Lisa, I’m sorry but I can’t just ignore this bastard outright disrespecting me.” Caesar took a step forward out of her grasp and into Joseph’s space as he spoke.
“Lisa Lisa,” Joseph mimicked, “keep your pet under control.”
The woman in question sighed and rolled her eyes. She could see that her influence was not going to get her anywhere with the brat, and left the two to bicker while she searched out Stroheim.
“Pet. Please, you can’t even pull off a single axel. Don’t talk like you are anything,” Caesar all but spat.
“That was a fluke. A one-time deal. I can promise you I’ve nailed enough axels in my lifetime to make up for all of your mistakes.”
“I would like to see you try to perform better than me!”
Joseph crowded into Caesar’s space even more. “Is that a dare?”
“Depends on if you are man enough.”
“Me? Man enough?” Joseph laughed and poked at the small pink triangle resting on the top of the blond’s cheekbone, moving it his finger back fast enough to avoid Caesar’s swat. “I think you’ll be surprised Caesaerino, at just how manly I can be. Try not to fall in love.”
Caesar pushed away from Joseph in agitation. “You’re on, kid.”
“That’s JoJo to you,” Joseph held his hand out to solidify the bet, “Joseph Joestar.”
Across the rink, the boy’s voice carried to Lisa Lisa. Her pick caught on a rivet in the otherwise smooth ice; she wobbled for the first time since stepping foot on the rink that day.