So, I decided on Chasing Memories, and I really hope you guys enjoy it! I am in search of a beta who will be relentless in helping me keep to my schedule, so if anyone out here wants an excuse to be a needy asshole to another author and not offend said author whilst cleaning up that author's crappy works, gimme a call.
The room around me is dark and quiet. The red numbers on my alarm clock glare at me angrily through the black, announcing that it is long time to get up and start my day, and yet I ignore them, staring into the shadows and listening to the sounds of breathing around me. The bed dips on my left side from the weight of a smaller person, and an even smaller one is clutched in my arms, nuzzling his face into my chest and letting out a soft sigh of contentment. My alarm blares again, as a warning this time, telling me that I must get up, lest I be late for work at the local ice rink. Slowly, slowly, I sit up, gently untangling the small boy from my arms and lowering him to the bed. I stand and hold my arms out, as is routine by now, beginning to wave them around in search of light. But before I can take two steps into the uninviting darkness, I trip on a small toy car that I had been unable to see.
"Shit," I hiss. I grab the offending toy and throw it out into the hall, continuing my search for the light switch. Within moments, dim, flickering light floods the room, and I sigh, reaching up to rub my eyes, trying to wake up further. I look over my shoulder at the single large bed in the corner.
Elena, the oldest after me, is sprawled across the bed, with her long black hair spread behind her like a mane. Her dark brown eyes are closed, and she looks more relaxed in sleep than she ever does during the day. In her arms is a small bundle, where I can see the youngest sister, Aisha.
The three year old is nestled closely to her big sister, swathed in multiple blankets to protect her from the Russian cold. It may be July, but it is still too cold for a small child to be exposed to at night. Aisha is a redhead, like me, but I notice that her large green eyes are open and gazing up at me. She has been awake for a while.
Than there's the little teddy bear who slept in my arms. Alexandrovic is 5 years old and as welcoming and warm as the roaring fire in the living room. His brown hair is mussed from sleep, and his mouth hangs open slightly, allowing some drool to dribble down his cheek and onto the sheets below him.
That leaves me. My name is Savannah Collins. I am sixteen years old, and I have dark red hair and icy blue eyes. I am an orphan, but then, so are my siblings. The four of us have been living on our own for nearly three years now, and somehow, we've survived.
I smile fondly at my small family and grab my outfit off of the doorknob as I walk to the bathroom across the hall. Our tiny apartment is made entirely of snow, and it is mostly underground, which provides a bit of protection from the city sounds, but the walls remain constantly frozen, leaving us to have a fire lit at all times. Still, the rent is cheap, and it puts a roof over our heads, which is all I can ask. I quickly change into my skating clothes and pack my bag. It may be Saturday, but I don't get a break from work. As I adjust my makeup and hair in our mirror, I reflect on what our lives were like before the fire. Before the death of our parents. Before I had to work three jobs to keep food on our table and walls around us.
Only minutes later, I am dressed and ready to go, and I cross the hall one last time to wake up Elena. The twelve-year-old scrunches up her face and grunts as I gently shake her shoulder
"Elena, love, it's time to get up now," I say softly. Elena blinks open her eyes and glares at me when I send her a gentle smile.
"I don't want to get up," she whines. I grin and brush a bit of hair out of her face.
"I know, but Aisha will be very hungry soon, and Sacha will wake in a few moments time. I need to go to work now okay? I'll be at the rink until ten o'clock tonight." I straighten up and pick up my skating bag after pressing a quick kiss to the Elena's forehead, to which she protests loudly. "See you later, little sister." With a quick wave, I rush out of the apartment. The St. Petersburg Central Ice Accord Center is only two blocks away from our home, and I run all the way there, managing to just make it on time. I punch my timecard and then slip behind the counter to open the register and log onto the employee computer. I sigh and look through the glass longingly. The lights above the rink make the ice shine softly, and I can feel an ache in my heart, tugging me out onto the ice. To hear the soft sounds of my blades gliding over the slippery floor, to feel the power as I glide over the unforgiving surface…
I am ripped from my thoughts as I hear someone clear their throat in annoyance. I smile pleasantly at a young girl- probably in her teens -and her mother.
"Good morning! How can I help you today?" I ask cheerfully. The mother grins at me.
"Two all day passes and skate rentals, please," she says.
"Of course! That will be seven hundred and seventeen rubles, please." I pull a stamp toward me and press the ink onto the back of the teen's hand as her mother gets the money. As soon as she's paid and stamped, I lead the two over to another counter, where I ask their sizes and get their skates down from the shelves. The teen flips her hair over her shoulder and struts away, leaving her mother to follow. I go back to my chair and sit down, starting to spin in circles when boredom creeps into my head. I kick my feet back and forth as the room around me turns to a blur. No one else will be here for a while, unless there's a competition this weekend, in which case several people will come here to practice. Still, the rink remains quiet except for the small chatter and the scraping sounds coming from the pair on the ice. I stop spinning long enough to grab my phone from my bag and turn on some music. An older pop song comes on, and I start to softly sing along, bobbing my head along to the beat as I spin in my chair. Another three songs pass before I hear someone clear their throat impatiently, and I stick out my leg to stop the chair. It slams against the desk with a bang, surely giving me a bruise, but I don't react, smiling up at the three men who stand in front of my counter. The one in front is a tall man with platinum hair who returns my smile without batting an eye. Behind him stands a nervous-looking Japanese man, and in the very back, a blonde teen who is glaring at his phone with malice.
"Hello!" The man in front lifts his hand in a wave, giving me a wide, heart-shaped smile.
"Hi! How can I help you gentlemen today?" I ask. The man holds up three passes and I take them from him swiftly.
"We just need to be admitted for today," he says. I nod and pull out my scanner. "My name is Viktor. What's yours?" I look away from my computer screen for a moment.
"I'm Savannah, sir," I say. I turn back to the program and start to enter the information for the first pass when he interrupts again.
"You look very familiar Savannah. Is there anywhere we could have met before?"
I laugh. "Most likely. Do you come here often? Or do you go to the Starbucks down the street at all?"
"My Yuuri here likes to go to the Starbucks, and I go with him sometimes?" Viktor phrases the sentence more like a question. I laugh again.
"That's probably it then. I'm a barista down there," I say, switching to the second pass. "Does that mean I'm correct in assuming that this is your first time at this rink?"
Viktor nods. "Yes, you are. Though we may switch this to our home rink soon."
I look up at him in surprise. "Are you a professional skater?" I ask excitedly. The teen in the back scoffs and rolls his eyes, sending a glare up at me. I smirk at him and shift my attention back to Viktor.
"You can say that. We're figure skaters, the three of us."
I gasp. "Really? Oh my God!" Realization dawns on me. "Oh, I'm so stupid! You're Viktor Nikiforov, aren't you?"
Viktor laughs. "Don't worry! You're not stupid. Though I must ask, if you're a fan, how did you not recognize me?"
I move to the third pass. "Ah. I'm more of a Yuri's Angel at heart. Never really paid attention to the senior division." The teen in the back stiffens slightly at my words. "I haven't really been able to follow the skating world for the past… two seasons?" I frown as I try to remember, my fingers hovering over the keys as I think. "The last performance of yours I saw was Stammi Vicino at the Grand Prix Finals. It was beautiful, by the way."
Viktor grins. "Thank you!" he says. He starts to continue, but the Japanese man next to him interrupts.
"Why haven't you been able to follow the seasons?" he asks with a frown.
I freeze. Sadness and anger blossoms in my chest while I try to come up with an excuse. Finally, I shrug as nonchalantly as I can past the tears threatening to fall from my eyes. "Just… haven't had the time, I guess." I hand Viktor the passes. "Here you are. Enjoy your day on the ice," I say quietly. The two men glance at each other, and even the boy in the back looks up curiously. I stand and go to the skate rental section, hiding in the shelves until I hear them retreat. I clutch at a shelf until my knuckles are white and force myself to calm down. It's not his fault. He couldn't have known. He was much too old to be in the same division as you. I pound my fist against the wall once and then step out with a large smile on my face, ready to greet the next few people.
The next few hours pass slowly, only a few people coming to check in for about an hour before they inevitably return their skates and leave. As soon as noon comes, though, the next person comes to take their shift behind the counter and I go into the break room to pull on my skates and gloves. I look in the mirror and nod, walking out to the rink quickly. I take off my skate guards and set them on a small shelf in my miniature classroom. I step onto the ice and sigh, grinning as I began to make lazy circles around the rink. There aren't many people on the ice right now. Just Viktor and his two friends, three small children, one teen girl, and me, so I dare to be bold and start speeding around the rink, passing people in a blur. Finally, once I've gained enough speed, I jump into a combination jump. Triple axel, single flip, double toe loop. I gently skate out of the last jump and turn to face the little boy behind me.
"Boo!"
The little boy squeals with laughter and the other two kids skate shakily over to me. "Savannah! Savannah, look!" the little girl squeaks. I laugh and reach out to take her hands.
"Good job Anastasiya! That's fantastic!" Right on cue, she slips on falls right onto her rear end. She looks up at me with a pout as I gently pull her back up. "Alright, guys, let's take a few laps, okay?" The three cheer and set off slowly around the ice. As I follow slowly behind them, I take a moment to glance at the three skaters. Viktor is lecturing the teen on something, waving his hands for emphasis, and the other man is skating into what I recognize as a quad flip. I watch him land it with a slight ache in my chest.
"Anya? Are you okay?" I shake out of my thoughts and smile softly at Petya.
"Of course I am, milaya," I say. Petya frowns and reaches for my hand. I take it gently, and we skate after Anastasiya and Leonid, who have gotten a bit ahead of us at this point. Once we have completed at least three laps of the rink, I lead the children into the middle of the ice and start to teach them fishies, little wiggles backwards. After Leonid's third failed attempt, I skate behind him and lean down to take his hands, guiding him through the motions myself. Petya shouts words of encouragement as I let go and skate away slightly, and all three of us cheer when he makes it at least a little bit of distance before falling. As I skate over to help him up, I notice the Japanese man watching me curiously as the teenage boy attempts a quad.
"Do a spin!" Leonid suddenly demands. I tear my glare away from the man and look at the six-year-old.
"What?" I ask.
"Do a spin!" he repeats. The three take up a chant. "Do a spin! Do a spin!" At this point, the other people in the rink have all turned to watch, intrigued by the children's shouts.
I laugh. "Which spin do you want, guys?"
Anastasiya answers me eagerly. "Th-the one with the- with the leg!" She breaks off, confused by her own words, but I laugh again.
"Don't worry, I know the one." I skate away to pick up speed, and when I get to the middle of the ice I clip my skates together, launching into a jump that lands in a camel spin, which I progress into a perfect biellmann spin before falling into a sit spin and standing. I come to a stop and bow to the children, who are cheering excitedly and applauding. Anastasiya skates toward me and clutches my legs, the other two following close behind her. As I grin down at them, I feel a pair of eyes on me and turn to see all three of the figure skaters watching me interact with the kids. The smile falls from my face and my blood turns to ice as I see the calculating look Viktor is sending my way. I scowl and turn away from them, giving my attention back to the children."Alright guys, give a few more laps, okay?" The three nod and take off, and I move to the side of the rink to watch them, leaning against the wall casually as I take a drink from my water bottle.
"Excuse me? Savannah?"
I look to my left. The Japanese man has skated over and is hovering near me with a small smile. "What do you want?" I ask coldly, turning away from him to watch the children again.
"Sorry to disturb, I just… You used to be a figure skater, didn't you?" he asks timidly, skating a little bit closer. I tense.
"Hardly," I hiss. The man flinches back a bit.
"Is that why you haven't followed the skating seasons? Because you can't compete?" I turn to glare at the man, noticing a slightly challenging gleam in his eyes.
"I haven't followed the last two seasons because it hurts to watch them. Not because I'm bitter, but because I was forced out of the competitions by forces I couldn't control," I say angrily. "Now if you would kindly get your nose out of my business, I would very much appreciate it." I send him one last withering glare and skate away, heading toward my students. Petya looks up and sees me coming, holding out his hands and making a grabbing motion as a silent request for help. I scoop him into my arms and make a lazy circle on the ice. Anastasiya points toward the gate, where her mother stands, waiting for our class to end. I take her hand and feel Leonid grab my leggings. Slowly and carefully, I take the three children over to the gate and hand Anastasiya off to her mom. I set Petya on solid ground and help Leonid step over the guard and onto the concrete. As soon as the two boys are picked up by their mom's, I begin to skate laps, waiting for my next class to arrive.
"Hey!"
I send a glance over my shoulder, rolling my eyes when I see the teen figure skater.
"What?" I turn back to my laps, leaving him behind me. Or so I thought.
"What did the pig want with you, huh?" he asks, skating up to my side and keeping pace with me. I scowl.
"Poking his nose where he shouldn't," I say. "Why? Do you want me to tell you what I told him?"
The boy rolls his eyes and glares at me. "I don't care whether you can do a spin or not. It's not like we would compete against each other anyway," he says, annoyance clear in his tone. Reluctantly, I give a wry smile.
"Feisty little kitten, aren't you?" Before he can snap back the retort I see forming on his tongue, I continue. "So if you aren't here to find out about my sad past, then why are you here?" I ask. The boy looks at me for a moment, as if calculating the best way to go about saying what's on his mind.
"I don't know," he finally admits. I raise an eyebrow at him, and he sighs with another roll of his sea-green eyes. "The pig is working on my choreography with the old man, and I'm supposed to do laps while I wait. I don't know," he repeats quietly. "I don't know why I'm talking to you. I don't usually, but you're just… familiar. Safe."
I stare at him. "What, because I smile at a couple of kids? Because I'll have you know- That's my job," I say quietly.
"No. I couldn't care less about anybody smiling at a kid," he says. Well, at least he's honest. "I feel like I've met you before, and… just…" He trails off with a shrug of his shoulders, and I grin at him softly.
"Don't worry. I get it. I feel the same about you," I say quietly. I notice with satisfaction that the corners of his mouth twitch upward in a seemingly involuntary action. "Don't go trying to woo me, now. I'll have you know that I'm not interested in finding love today." I smirk and speedily skate away before my words can catch up to him. I hear him shout at me, and I know he is giving chase, but Viktor calls for him and he groans loudly. I turn and start to skate backwards, saluting him cheekily. He glares at me as he skates to his coaches side.
The rest of the day passes quickly, and soon enough it's nine o'clock and the rink is closing. I have permission to stay after as long as I want, though, so I quickly re-lace my skates and head out onto the ice with my phone and speakers. I plug the speakers in and set them on the wall before taking off over the ice. I come to a stop in the middle and hesitate.
"How did he…" I trail off and concentrate, skating into position for a jump. I launch into the air and shakily land on my right foot. I grin. My first ever quad flip. I practice it at least another four times before I deem it satisfactory and skate over to my phone again. I select my playlist for skating and set it on shuffle, skating back out into the middle of the rink before it starts. Derniere Danse turns on, and I take off with little fishies backwards, I move into the step sequence quickly.
This song was one of my old routines, from my very first season on the ice. I land a triple axel right on beat with the music, as a great surge of volume leads into the chorus. I skate backwards, throwing myself into a spin combination when the lyrics vanish. I come out of it and immediately skate into a quad salchow, double toe loop, triple flip combination. I skate backwards again, pulling my hands into my chest from every direction I can think of. I make a loop, leaning backwards with a hand pressed to my forehead dramatically. My hair flies around me and I enter a flying sit spin, and then the music is over, with me in my finishing pose and the final strains of music echoing hauntingly around the rink. I stand, panting, just as the next song starts. I laugh. Of all the programs, it had to be one of Yuri's?
The familiar bass line begins, and I move into a complex step sequence that took me weeks to learn, but is now as much a part of me as my arms and legs. I jump into a quad salchow, landing just as the electric guitars enter the song before moving back into the step sequence. I pull my leg up behind me in a Biellmann spin as the beginning lyrics leave the speakers and lose myself in the routine.
I relish the feeling of gliding over the ice. I revel in the weightlessness that comes from my jumps. I savor the biting wind sweeping over my skin. The sounds of the blades cutting into the ice give me chills before the I misstep on a jump and crash to the ground. Pain bites up my shoulder, but I pay it no mind and jump back up, rushing back into the routine. I smirk at the memories that come with that particular jump.
It was always a competition between Yuri and I to see who could do the best jumps. He won with the salchow, but when we were fourteen, he had learned only that and the toe loop. I had learned the salchow, toe loop, and lutz, so he reluctantly conceded defeat. He won in nearly every other aspect of skating though. He almost never tripped up with step sequences, but one that took him a few hours to learn would take me a few days and a new collection of bruises. We had fun, though, comparing scores and critiquing each other's performances, and in the off season we would teach each other our routines. But when my parents died, I'd had to leave the world of skating behind to take care of my siblings, and that had included my friends and coach.
I focus on the routine again just as the last chord is struck. I stand there, gasping for air, for just a few moments before I collapse onto the ice and press my face to the cool surface. The next track is playing, and I roll onto my back to listen to it.
It's the audio of one of my old performances.
"And here we have Savannah Collins, representing Russia in the Junior Worlds! Savannah is 14 years old and says she loves to skate because it gives her a feeling of power. In her short program today, she will attempt four triples." The song comes through the speaker, soft and gentle, slowly picking up pace until it evolves into drums and guitar instead of the delicate piano it had been before. I feel tears gathering in my eyes, and I quickly get up and turn it off, skipping to the next track without a thought. The soft notes of Heaven by Troye Sivan float through the air, and I smile. This is a routine I had been working on for my third season- my senior debut -but had to drop. I skate into the routine, trying to convey all of my emotion into the gentle motions of my arms and the softer, lighter way that I jump and spin.
"Without losing a piece of me, how do I get to heaven? Without changing a part of me, how do I get to heaven?" I jump into a triple-single-double combination and land in a spin for a few measures, coming back up for a step sequence in time for the second verse.
"The truth runs wild, like the rain to the sea. Trying to set straight the lines that I trace to find some relief." The tears are back, cutting trails into my cheeks as I think of what could have been. "This voice inside, has been eating at me. Trying to embrace the picture I paint to color me free." I land a triple axel right on the beat and enter a beautiful sequence of spins as the music reaches the bridge. As the music suddenly fades to a pianissimo, I skate gently back to the center of the rink and into my final pose, baring myself open for all to see. I skate back to the wall as Antique Gucci begins to play and pull of my blouse so that I'm in nothing but my sports bra and my leggings. I reach up and trace my choker as I drink from my water bottle. After resting for the duration of the song, I begin lazy laps around the rink and then into the center again. The next song starts, and I stare at my speaker in confusion for a moment before skating over and pausing the music. I rewind to the beginning, but hesitate.
"I don't even have a program for this music. I must have saved it in the wrong playlist," I say to myself quietly. Nevertheless, I reluctantly press play and skate to the middle of the ice. A few beats pass before the music starts, and when it does, I don't begin to skate immediately.
"Two A.M., where do I begin? Crying off my face again." I move backwards, moving my arms in a way that conveys the emotions of the song. I jump into a combination as the chorus begins. Quad flip, double loop, triple lutz.
"Dancing slowly in an empty room. Can the lonely take the place of you?" I take a deep, shuddering breath, tears pricking my eyes once again and I start to spin across the ice, entering an improvised step sequence that keeps me at an unrelenting pace. The room is a blur- from the tears or the speed at which I move, I am unsure. I throw my arms out and skate backwards, leaning into the motion desperately, as if trying to pull someone with me who is not there. The third verse comes, and I move even faster, sure that I don't even have any choreography going at this point. That I am only moving across the ice. The song ends, and I curl in on myself as a final position, holding my fists to my chest as I heave for breath. I cough from the rawness of my throat and fall to my hands and knees as it turns into a fit. I've pushed myself too hard today, but it was worth it to get even a semblance of the euphoria that comes with the competition. I sit on the ice, holding myself up with one shaky arm as another song begins to play. The minutes pass, the quiet letting my heartbeat slow down slightly.
"Anya?"
I whip around. Alexandrovic is standing at the gate to the rink, tears on his cheeks and mismatching gloves. I gasp and jump to my feet. "Sacha! What are you doing here?" I speed over to my little brother and drop to my knees, wiping his tears quickly so that I can pull him into a hug. "Where's Elena?" I ask him. The trembling boy pulls back and looks down at the ground.
"She hurt her knee, and I was scared because you said you would be back a long time ago, so I came to get you," he whimpers. He looks up at me with tear still swimming in his leaf green eyes. "I just wanted to help." I pull him into another hug and shush him softly.
"Oh, dorogaya," I say. "I know you were trying to help, but you know the rules. You're not allowed to leave home unless Elena or I are with you, right?" I feel him nod against my shoulder and continue. "You know why we have those rules, Sacha. You could get hurt, and that wouldn't have helped very much, hm?" He shakes his head, and I pull back and press a kiss to his forehead. "Stay right here, okay?" I stand and skate to get my phone and speakers quickly. I lead Alexandrovic away from the rink and sit him down on a bench in the bleachers while I take off my skates.
"Anya, when are we getting more food?" he asks quietly.
I look at him in confusion. "What do you mean, Sacha? Didn't you eat today?" Alexandrovic nods, but looks at the ground.
"Elena didn't," he says.
I look at him in alarm. "Why didn't she? We had food left, right? Why didn't she eat some?"
"We only had one apple left, and she gave it to me and Aisha." He looks at me in concern. "Anya, did you have food today?"
I sigh and shake my head. "No, I haven't had anything to eat today, Sacha. But I'll give my dinner to Elena if it makes you feel better, okay?"
The little boy shakes his head. "What about you? You need food, too. You didn't eat yesterday either!" He sounds almost hysterical now. In truth, it's been nearly a week since I've eaten anything, but I try to hide it for my brother's sake.
"It's okay, dorogaya, I'm a big girl, remember? I don't need as much food as you do. And if Elena's knee is going to get better, she needs to eat up, right?" I tuck my skates into my bag and pull out a surprise.
"I guess," he says quietly.
"Cheer up, Sacha. I got a treat for us," I say, holding up the candy bar. Alexandrovic's eyes widen, and he reaches for it eagerly.
"What is it?" he asks.
I smile at him. "It's Alenka," I say. "It's chocolate."
He looks at me curiously. "What's that?" he asks.
I laugh. "It's very good. It's a kind of candy. If you leave it on your tongue, it melts into a sweet syrup, and if you put some in a cup of warm milk, it makes hot chocolate." The boy looks humbled by this knowledge.
"Really?" he asks.
I nod and put on my most serious face. "Really, really," I say.
He looks up, excited. "Can we eat it now?" he chirps.
I laugh again and take the candy bar back, slipping it into the pocket on my bag. "No. We have to go home first, remember? Elena and Aisha will want some, too," I remind him. He jumps to his feet and hops down the bleachers one bench at a time.
"Let's go!" he calls. I laugh and follow him, gripping his hand tightly at the bottom, and leading him out into the night.
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