The Diver

Every now and again I write a story and am unsure how to end it. I've written two endings for this one, and I am not that happy with either. The first is a bit cheesy, the second a bit corny. Let me know which is best or suggest your own. 
For audio click here 

Lev looked left and looked right, he was lost. He’d only gone to look for the toilet and now he didn’t have a clue how to get back. The signs weren’t much help, he didn’t understand a word of them; all strange letters and words.  How he wished he’d worked harder at his English, but the lessons were so boring. He tried another door but it was locked so he turned around and went back the way he came. He listened carefully to the announcements. They were calling Dimitri’s name. That meant he had about three minutes to find his way back.

He’d dreamed of this, of course he had. All of them did. They talked about it. Those anxiety dreams where you are being called but you are miles away from where you were supposed to be. For him, he was usually up in the stands, sitting with Yana his girl. But this was no dream. This was real. He heard the applause from above and the muffled sound of the scores being read; that meant Dimitri had done his dive. Soon it would be his turn.

The corridor looked like something from a submarine. The pipes above his head were hot and the air humid.  He ran to the end. Which way to turn left or right? He was panting now. He turned left then immediately knew it was wrong. He turned around, but no that didn’t look right either. Another loud cheer from the pool, another diver had landed. They sounded further away than before. Back the way he came? He scratched his head and adjusted his speedos.

“Shit!” he said. “Shit! Shit! Shit!”

He wiped sweat from his arms and a tear from his eye. He stood still and listened. He tried to follow the sound of the applause. Back down the same corridor then… the door on the right. Damn, it was locked. He counted the divers ahead of him, Dimitri, Michal, Mark then him. So Mark must be on the board now. He had under a minute. Another locked door and another. Why had he gone to the toilet, why hadn’t he just peed in the pool like everyone else did? The next one swung open, he was back at poolside. Just in time.

“Next to dive, Lev Garikov, representing Russia” The announcement was nice and clear. Lev walked along the slippery surface at the edge of the pool trying to pretend everything was going to plan. He tried to avoid eye-contact with the other divers and with his coach, who he could see gesturing like crazy. He climbed the steps of the diving board trying to compose himself.

At the top he took a deep breath and then walked to the edge of the board. He counted himself in and leapt. Back, three and a half summersaults with pike.

Ending one

He splashed into the water. It felt good, it felt really good. From the depths of the pool he could hear the echoey applause. He swam to the edge.

“Nine point five, nine, nine point five, nine, nine point five.”

Even with his faulty English he knew that put him in first place.

Ending two

The aquatic centre span in front of him, he straightened up and looked down. Shit, there was no water in the pool.

Lev sat up in bed. It’d all been a dream after all.