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"Damn," Madison muttered to herself. She couldn't believe she had this many pictures on her phone. Despite her best efforts and all the folders, her thumb was sore from all the scrolling.
With Gabriella's birthday coming up, she was walking down memory lane to find the perfect photos for a carousel post. Thirty was a big one for Gabriella, she knew. She still remembered the breakdowns a decade ago from the safety of Madison's arms—Gabriella wasn't sure she'd make it to thirty as a disillusioned, depressed twenty-something. Even with all the odds stacked against her, Gabriella had risen above it all. Madison was so proud, and she made sure to tell her best friend as much. Even if it was hard for her to say.
Madison was having a hard time choosing only twenty photos or videos. She had ten years worth of memories to sift through. The scrolling screen trundled to a stop on a folder labeled "2020". Madison remembered that time acutely.
COVID-19 had come to Canada with a vengeance, and all the international athletes were trapped in. Flights were down, stores were closed, people were told to stay inside. No skating was allowed; everyone at the academy had been shattered about that. The coaches had pivoted the moment they heard the news and hosted weekly exercises and lessons online—but Madison had still went stir-crazy in the same four walls of her small apartment. She had been tempted to break the lockdown order so many times to visit Gabriella a block away, but Adrián had been the voice of reason. She had to settle for video calls.
Madison was never the sentimental type, but a world-near-ending pandemic was good cause to start being one. She had seized all the good memories when they presented themselves, snapped all the photos and screenshots of smiles when she could.
The first photo in the folder was a blurry screenshot from the first FaceTime call after the government had shut the country down. Gabriella's hair was perfectly done, not a strand out of place. She wore a comfortable buttoned shirt over a grey tank-top. Madison's face was also on screen; she looked similarly well put-together. It was almost like they had shared the same thought; they dressed in outfits presentable enough for the public. It was an attempt at normalcy, to stave off the impending reality. It didn't take long for their scheduled twice-a-week calls to devolve in appearance after the first week—messy buns, bare faces, ratty pajamas, glasses instead of contacts. But Madison had picture proof that they weren't always gremlins.
—
"Madi!" Gabriella brightened the moment the call connected. Her angular face filled Madison's phone screen. "I'm so glad to see you." With her crooked smile and her dancing eyebrows, she seemed like the same woman Madison had hugged last week at the rink. How it seemed so long ago.
"Me, too. How're you holding up?" Madison ran her fingers through her loose hair. She'd woken up a little early to curl it, but the camera in her phone didn't pick it up at all. Something told her she'd be tucking her curling iron away for a while.
Gabriella looked to the upper left. This was her thinking-of-English angle. Finding the right words in English were a challenge for Gabriella, and Madison understood. She loved to wait and watch the gears turn in the younger woman's mind, and appreciated the effort Gabriella put into responding. "I feel okay for now," she slowly said. "Trying to keep my spirits up."
Madison nodded and hummed in agreement. She knew what the other woman meant. They were navigating uncertain waters now. "Got any plans?"
"I pulled out my piano from my… closet?" Madison gave her a thumbs-up. Gabriella continued, "Closet. I'm going to try some chords today." She nodded once, resolute and focused. "I want to relearn guitar, too. But I'm trying not to do everything in the first day. We don't know how long this will last…" The younger woman trailed off and blew a raspberry. "How about you? What is Madison Hubbell doing today?" Gabriella threw her French accent fully into Madison's full name, swinging vowels and silencing letters galore.
Madison laughed. It had been a while since she'd heard her name said in such a way. She got a kick out of it every time. "I'm gonna do some yoga before a late brunch. And then… probably a little knitting—working on a scarf. Hopefully I can wear it next winter." If the lockdown was lifted by then, that was. She shook her head and changed the topic. "And I'll do that while catching up on the shows and films on my to-be-watched list," she said as she leaned back in her chair. "Lots to watch."
"Sounds like we have things to keep us occupied." Gabriella leaned against her hand. "Okay. I'll talk to you later, then."
Madison nodded. She considered saying, "I love you", but it felt too final. It was almost funny, how much power those three little words held for her. Words didn't come easy; she preferred to channel her emotions into physical action. This lockdown felt limiting in more ways than one. Instead, she took a secret screenshot and ended the call with, "I'll see you tomorrow, babe." The unspoken phrase sat heavy in her throat.
—
Madison was grateful for that thread of connection during that period. No matter what had happened, she always had a call with Gabriella to look forward to. She selected that first screenshot and added it to a new folder of birthday post candidates, then continued to scroll.
The next folder that piqued her interest was labeled "2022". When she opened it, her phone offered a set of photos from when Gabriella and Madison were training for Beijing. Adrián, in good sense, had caught the moment when Madison had dropped her big announcement. Her second biggest announcement, behind her wedding plans—retirement from competition. She was glad to have this moment immortalized.
Madison's back had been to Adrián's camera, but Gabriella's face was on full display. Pride, affection, and genuine celebration was visible in her shining eyes and open mouth. Their arms twisted around each other. In those mere minutes, they were the only two people in their little world.
—
"I'm retiring. End of this year." Madison looked the other woman in the eyes. They had just finished a quick exercise together and were collecting their breath. At the center of the rink, just the two of them, Madison felt it was the right time and place to share her secret. Before Gabriella, she had only discussed this with Adrián. Not even her coaches were aware yet—maybe a little backwards, but she had no regrets. The ecstatic hug from Gabriella was so strong, they moved backward on the ice.
"I'm going to miss practicing next to you," the younger woman confessed. That was a common refrain; Gabriella always waxed poetic about training next to each other. It was romantic, dramatic, and quintessentially Gabriella Papadakis. Her way of showing love was flowery speech and long-winded letters. She was a writer at heart and loved words; Madison's chest always warmed at the sentiment. Madison struggled to reciprocate in the same way, but she compensated in her nonverbal actions. She tightened her arms around Gabriella's waist and hoped she understood.
As they spun around, three little words bubbled up her throat again. Before she could utter them, Gabriella pulled back. One of the coaches had called her over. The moment passed. Madison returned to Zach, Adrián, and Olivia in mild disappointment. She'd say it one of these days.
—
Madison pursed her lips. These photos felt too personal. They were for her and Gabriella's eyes only. She flicked through other photos from that practice, chuckling at their hair and their physique. Both of them had been at their peak physicality, and it would never come back. Their past selves were trapped on her camera roll, forever frozen.
The pictures switched to Getty Images and press release photos from the Beijing Olympics. Unbeknownst to Madison, at this time, Gabriella and Guillaume had been considering retirement as well—they announced a hiatus shortly after returning home. Looking back, she realized that Gabriella had been more sappy and melodramatic than usual, and for more than one reason. She wondered if Gabriella knew 2022 would be her last Olympic Games as an athlete. Probably so. There was a bittersweet look to her eye that week.
One of the photos caught her attention; she expanded it. The medalists were off-center to the left while the Beijing logo loomed large in the background. They had already taken their serious shots, so Madison took the opportunity to drape her front against Gabriella's back and embrace her from behind. Zach, bless him, had understood the assignment. He had reached behind the women and threw his arm over to Guillaume's shoulder.
The photographer had snapped the moment Gabriella's eyes fell closed—it was a look of peace and contentment in the midst of all the stress and chaos. Madison had felt the other woman's body relax and lean back. Behind her mask, she had grinned in satisfaction.
Gabriella called this phenomenon the "Madi effect". No matter how much tension was stored in her compact frame, whenever Madison made contact, she loosened up and turned into putty. Even without looking, Gabriella knew when Madison was touching her—she had mentioned pressure and angle of attack once, half-joking. There was an element of truth to it; Madison could pick out Gabriella from a blind line-up, too. The way their curves matched up couldn't be replicated.
This photo was a keeper, she decided. She exited the "2022" folder and moved on to the next.
"2023" was an interesting year—their first interview with the media about same-sex skating and dancing with each other had been released in April. She remembered that interview among all the ones they had done, just by virtue of it being the first. Jordan from On Ice Perspectives had been on site; he had taken a large batch of photos and videos.
One of Jordan's shots had caught them at the tail end of spin. Their twin smiles were close-quarters, a private moment of exhilaration. That one was too private, but the next photo seemed suitable.
Gabriella and a past version of herself monitored a video that a staff member had taken. Jordan had captured their faced in profile. Madison's arm was loosely flung across the shorter woman's shoulders. Gabriella leaned into her side. It looked casual, involuntary, natural. They weren't playing to Jordan's camera or a gaggle of young students; they were just being themselves.
This quiet capture reminded Madison of the tense conversation that had happened after. Gabriella didn't talk about her bisexuality much to Madison, which made sense as she was a heterosexual woman. So when she brought it up, it was something big. Madison always dropped everything and listened.
—
Jordan and Seojung were done for the day. So were Madison and Gabriella. Dressed in clean sweats and soft shoes, they exited the Ice Academy building together. Gabriella's brainchild of a two-woman ice dance performance was becoming more tangible—Madison was impressed with her focus and dedication.
Later this week, Seojung's article and Jordan's photos/videos would be released to the public. Madison was cautiously optimistic of the potential reaction from the ice skating community and the broader general population. She was honored to break the ice, pun intended, with Gabriella on this front.
Companionable silence settled between the two women as they wove around the parking lot to Madison's SUV. They threw their bags in the trunk and climbed into their seats almost in tandem. What happened next, however, broke their usual routine.
Gabriella paused as she held her seatbelt buckle in a loose hand. "I think I need to come out. Again."
Madison, who was about to buckle her own belt, looked up. She turned her body to fully face the passenger side of the cabin. Both her hands wrapped around Gabriella's left hand, the closest hand. I'm listening, her body non-verbally said. "Oh?" she asked.
"I have known I am bisexual since I was fifteen. I have this—platform now, and I'll be damned if I waste this opportunity. Who knows if I'll have this platform in a week?" Gabriella's face tightened in concentration. "I know there are many girls like me in this sport, who need someone to look up to. I can be that person, as egotistic as it sounds. Because I needed someone when I was their age." She turned to look at Madison. "Am I making sense?"
Madison nodded. "If you want to come out, I'll support you. You're my best friend, before anything else."
Gabriella broke their hand-holding; Madison was briefly saddened by the contact. But then, the younger woman asked for a hug, and the pieces clicked into place.
Madison leaned over the center console and ignored the gearstick digging into her side. She engulfed Gabriella in the warmest, tightest hug she could muster. Three small words floated to forefront of her mind. Was the timing right? Hesitation gripped her throat once more. No, this was Gabriella's moment. She didn't want to take that away. In the end, she dropped a kiss behind Gabriella's ear before she pulled back.
—
With another photo added to her maybe-birthday-post collection, Madison skipped to the folder marked "2025". The whirlwind of activity earlier this year had been captured by several skilled photographers. Gabriella had posted a lot about their Art on Ice performance on her social media, but Madison had not.
Privately, however, she had saved every piece of media she had come across. Past-Madison had known that she would revisit them at a more convenient time—like now.
All the glitzy performance shots and photoshoots from Le Temps and L'Equipe were great, but Madison's eyes were drawn to one photo in the middle of it all. It was shot in landscape, in dim black-and-white. The edges were blurry, but the two women in the center were sharply in focus.
—
Finally. After all the practice, the rehearsals, the dress fittings, the sleepless nights—Madison had finished the last show of the 2025 Art on Ice exhibition. With Gabriella's hand in her own, she skated off-rink to the tune of thunderous applause.
"Is it over?" Madison asked, half-joking. They still had the finale, but as far as their portion of the show—yes, it was over.
"Yes." Gabriella stopped and turned to her. The lights behind them splashed across her broad cheekbones and that lovely nose. "Thank you, Madi. I wouldn't have done it with anyone else."
This, Madison knew. The moment the organizers of Art on Ice had approached Gabriella and pitched her the idea of two women skating, Gabriella had only Madison in mind. It was an extension of the promise they had made as they trained next to each other for seven years. "Thank you for trusting me." The three words she wanted to say stopped just short of falling off her tongue. She hoped her sweaty embrace got her message across well enough.
Gabriella burrowed her nose into the space between Madison's neck and shoulder. Her breaths were only just returning to a normal pace, but Madison didn't mind the puffs of hot air across her skin.
—
Madison didn't even remember how she had this photo or who had taken it. She suspected one of the backstage crew. The photo had just appeared on her camera roll after that night. No matter. She added it to the rapidly-growing folder. Then, she opened her text message thread with Gabriella.
M: Hey, Gabs. Just wanted to run some pics by you. Thinking of posting them on the 'gram. What do you think? [ATTACHMENT: IMG_4267, IMG_8620, IMG_2196, IMG_7035, IMG_1308, IMG_3654, IMG_1482]
Only a couple moments passed before the telltale typing symbol popped up.
G: Madi!! These are so cute <3 You have my permission to post these. Thank you for asking~
Madison nodded to herself, satisfied. Her lips ticked up in a fond smile at the very Gabi response Gabriella had sent. Her voice came across so clearly in written text. A damn good thing that she was writing a book.
M: Okay, thanks.
She paused. Then, her thumbs started moving once more.
M: I love you.
———
