POV: Ben

Friday

It really hadn’t been the best week to Ben. The week had seemed to start of well with the return of Milan Lohmann. Ben refound the motivation to train even more and harder to get better and defeat the guy he had wanted to beat for the past ten years already. Ben had expected his father to be excited about the possible rivalry too, knowing it would help to push Ben even more.

But his father had hardly said a word about it when Ben’s brother Dereck had pointed out the fact his rival had returned, and when Ben had eventually told Dereck to stop fangirling over Milan in anger—Dereck had always openly been cheering for Milan ever since Ben came out as bisexual—his father had told Ben to stop bothering Dereck. According to him, at least Dereck knew what a champion looked like; and it wasn’t Ben.

By Thursday, both his parents had told Ben he might as well resign if Milan actually planned on returning, since he would never beat him anyway. Ben didn’t know why they would even say so; Milan’s name hadn’t showed up on the sign-up list yet. There was still a big chance he wouldn’t compete.

That was followed by a phone call from his manager Gerald, about two potential sponsors who had cancelled the contract even before it was signed; they had someone else they were interested in.

Ben knew they were probably talking about Milan. Of course, they wanted Milan to sign a contract with them. The guy had gotten nothing but positive publicity ever since he returned in public on Monday. Which sponsor didn’t want him to walk around with their stuff?

Which sponsor would actually want Ben to sign with them? The guy who always came in second, unless Milan simply wasn’t there to compete?

The funny thing was, that Ben had been out practicing every single day, every waking moment outside of school; and he hadn’t seen Milan out there even once. Ben was starting to wonder if Milan was even planning on entering tournaments again. More so, he was wondering if he would physically be able to do so, after the horrible accident he was in.

Because unlike others, he knew Milan had been in that accident, and it was the sole reason he had been away for so long. Not to train, but to recover. Sponsors didn’t know it. Well, maybe Milan’s old sponsors, but not the ones that had previously approached Ben with offers.

But that thought was worse than hearing others claim Ben wasn’t good enough. That he ‘might as well give up’ because he wasn’t as good as Milan. To Ben, it was worse to think he couldn’t  prove himself. He wanted to compete against Milan just to have a chance to show he was better. But still, if Milan was indeed still recovering, it wouldn’t even be fair.

Would it ever still be fair?

Maybe he had just missed his shot years before. Maybe there was no way for him to prove to his father that he wasn’t completely worthless. Maybe there was no way to show his father that he could be proud of him, just like he was proud of his brothers for various of reasons.

Theodore, or Theo, had become head of research in some biology related lab; Ben never really cared to listen whenever Theo talked about his work. They never got along, not even when they were younger. Theo and Ben were like fire and ice, and neither was trying hard to bond over something any longer.

Remy, the only brother got along with—slightly—was in law school and their father couldn’t be prouder when he landed himself an internship in a high-and law firm.

Dereck was the only one beside Ben who still lived at home. He was in a sports education—just like Ben wanted to—and worked as a ski teacher during the winter months. Of course, their father—obsessed with skiing in any possible way—never failed to praise Dereck’s successes. Even though Dereck wasn’t a talented freestyle skier like Ben. He didn’t have sponsors, he didn’t compete in tournaments simply because he never qualified, and he was an average teacher at max. Ben always had to hold himself back to not point out all the mistakes he was making, knowing it wouldn’t make a difference in their father’s opinion; Dereck was successful, Ben still had to make it.

Though it wasn’t fair, since Ben was simply still too young to be an official teacher; you needed to be eighteen to actually teach a class. He didn’t bother spending time, acting as an assistant to Dereck and his stuck-up friends.

But the one thing Ben hated most, was the fact his father always seemed to praise Ben’s biggest rival every chance he got. Over the course of four days, the desire to beat Milan had grown out of proportions, and so had is obsession over the guy. By the time he reached the slopes on Thursday, he was contemplating on paying Milan to compete in any competition. Or to head over and beg him to at least try to ski again.

Which was why it was such a shock to find the one guy who had haunted his thoughts every waking moment—and some of his dreams too—alongside his best friend, sitting in the snow, fiddling with a go pro on his helmet.

So, he was  going to compete?

“Benny?” Steffi said, yanking his sleeve in annoyance. “You’ve been ignoring me all week, claiming nothing is bothering you. But you look like you’ve seen a ghost and Lesley and I aren’t stupid; that’s Milan. Are you scared he’s back to beat your ass?”

“He’s not going to beat my ass.” Ben grumbled, just as annoyed as she sounded. “I’ve been training all year.”

“So has he, according to the lasted gossip,” Lesley said, pointing at Ben, “and from what I’ve read, he isn’t fucking around—”

“He did not train all year,” Ben grumbled, turning to watch Milan, who had gotten up, holding onto Jake while, well, he looked scared shitless.

“He didn’t? So, nobody knows what he was up to, but you do?”

“Yeah, something like that.” Ben frowned as the anger he felt seconds ago, made room for worry while he watched Milan taking a few deep breaths. He couldn’t help but wonder why Milan never explained what had happened. It wasn’t anything to be ashamed of. From what Ben heard from the employees who had helped to get him off the mountain, some dickhead had cut him off. Milan wasn’t to blame.

And his life would be a whole lot easier if everybody knew why  Milan hadn’t showed up at the tournament. Not out of sheer boredom, as some claimed. Not because Milan supposedly became too good to compete against the others in the region. Not because Milan wanted to focus on national and international competitions. Not because he felt like Ben wasn’t competition any longer.

But then again, Ben had no idea if Milan even saw him as a treat in any way. They had never exchanged a word in the past.

“Then what was he up to?” Lesley asked, placing his hand on Ben’s shoulder. “Because I do get the impression he isn’t all that stable on his skis right now.”

“He’s just messing around, like in most of his videos,” Steffi said, pulling Ben’s arm, to make him turn around. “Let’s head over to the fun park and practice some tricks. If he’s going to compete, you need to bring your A-game.”

Ben simply nodded, knowing she was right. He could figure out a way to make sure Milan would compete later; once he knew how for the love of God he would be able to persuade a complete stranger who probably hated his guts over things that were said in the past.

After all, Milan didn’t owe him anything.