I was sitting on a stage far too big for one person, in a too big, uncomfortable chair. Blinded by millions of flashing lights. In other circumstances I would be thriving and would have already answered all the asked questions and told the interviewers about my plans for the upcoming season. In other circumstances I would probably be sitting next to one certain, handsome, silver-haired somebody. In other circumstances my eyes wouldn't be wandering longingly around the crowded room, hoping to accidentaly stumble upon the aformentioned somebody. But said circumstances doggedly refused to cooperate. I was therefore sitting sorrounded, yet alone, unable to take my eyes off my beloved Russian man. And the man next to him. My attention was entirely focused on them. If I didn't know Victor, I would probably have ignored his arm hanging loosely by his side. But I knew excatly what was happening. I knew that Victor's hand met Chrstoph's under the chair and held it in a tender, almost shy embrace. I knew because that's what happened to me once upon a time, oh yes, I know all of your tricks Nikiforov. You rejected the feelings I had for you, so I decided to reject all the feelings a humanbeing is able to feel. Still every little sign of affection between two ice skaters made me want to scream or, alternatively, to take a huge dose of arsenic or any other poison, just to feel the blissful, eternal calmness. Suddenly, my stream of consciousness got interrupted by a slightly irritated female voice. I blinked a few times to bring myself back to reality and asked politely if she could repeat her question.
-Your last season's main theme was love. We are all curious to know what will be the motif of this year's performances.
I coulnd't keep myself from staring at them. I saw MY Victor looking lovingly at Christoph, who certainly wasn't me, touching HIS chin delicately and running his fingers slowly on his plump lower lip. A moment later Victor leaned down and their parted lips met in a shy kiss. It wasn't like in all of this romantic movies though. He's eyes weren't closed. Instead, those beautiful, shiny, twenty four carat orbs were looking straight at me with an unbelievale intensity. It made me feel as if a icy knot was forming around my entrails. I saw, no, I almost felt every single sensation Christoph was experiencing. It was almost as if it wasn't Christoph's mouth that was penetrated by Victor's hot, agile tongue, but mine. I felt his hand pulling hair. I also felt tears welling up in the inner corners of my eyes. Not breaking the eye contact I answer the question that hung in the air several minutes ago.
-Jealousy.