Disclaimer: Well, I'm back with this again. No, the characters don't belong to me. I own the plot though.

A/N: Happy New Year! I hope last year was a good year, but this year will be a better one for all of us!

I'm back again with Saving Us: Alternate, as I promised! It takes a bit too long because I need to plan the timeline and plot. I also have to redo three times this time lol. I can't get the result I wanted. Anyyyywayyyy, enjoy this chapter.

Beta reader: MysteryPT

25th of December, that day is my birthday, but also a day I would always remember. Crisp winter air blew snow into my face like a sudden ice shower. My nose was red from cold, and my eyes red and dry. I remembered scowling into my scarf, the frigidity set my teeth chattering loudly. It was supposed to be a bad day.

I was having a bad day. People all around pressured me to make something for them. I didn't want to. I just wanted to lie on my bed, sighing into Makkachin's fur, sharing his warmth under the thick blanket. I'd let the heater on and slept it off. I didn't want to wake up. I just wanted to fall into sleep where I could dream again.

I didn't.

I couldn't.

Obligation pushed me to move. Fear pushed me to walk out of my front door. My love for my Godfather led me to the street where the town was painted white. I could hear the crunching sound of my boots making holes into the thick blanket of snow. The world was muted by white, but it didn't stop the noise from invading my head. My hands were clenched, hoping the heater packs would chase the pain away. They didn't.

I hated that day.

But I hated it no more.

I didn't think it was possible to fall in love with someone just from his eyes. I didn't even think I was capable of loving someone. But I think I just did. That day, I fell in love.

25th of December, that day is his birthday; A day I would always remember. I had been dreaming for so long, I didn't know which was dream and reality anymore. Darkness was my friend. Muteness was my world. I didn't know what hope was, for despair was my constant companion. I had always been watching myself struggling in my own dream. Thorny vines tied my feet, dragging me down deeper into a boundless void. I was broken.

Monochrome. That was how I saw the world. Red, it was the only color besides. Not a good color. Blood. Lots of blood. I hated it, because it made me ask myself: "Am I dying?"

I'd walk away, finding some place dark, sitting with my head buried in my arms alone in nowhere, knowing no one would come to help me. I knew my tears had run dry.

I hated those dreams. Always.

But I'd learned to embrace the pain.

I didn't think it was possible for me to be saved. I didn't think I could hope again. But I think I just did. December 25, on that day, I found back my light. That day, I fell in love.

December 16 [Evening], Detroit.

"Victor, good job. I'd expected no less from the genius director. I'm sure this movie would be another hit, huh?"

I flashed a smile that didn't really reach my eyes at Sara Crispino, one of the actress playing in the movie I directed. She was still wearing medieval-age costume that revealed a bit too much of her skin. Not that she minded them, as she was always proudly flaunting her assets.

"Good job, Sara." I replied curtly, mentally hoping she'd gotten the clue and leave me alone.

I wasn't in the mood to make small talks. The scenes to the movie were all taken. With it done, I could direct the rest from home, the only place I felt the most comfortable in. I wanted to slip under the blanket with Makkachin so much, but I couldn't. I promised Yakov, my coach who was also someone I regarded as a father-figure, to dine with him. I'd been avoiding him a lot these days because he insisted that I needed a… more permanent partner. I was in a very bad mood, just thinking of another long talk he'd have given me.

Don't get me wrong. I love Yakov very much. I simply didn't like it when he pushed me to a relationship I didn't want to have. As I produced more movies, earned more trophies, the more people would come flocking to me. They were poisonous bees to a flower, attracted more to my finance or social network than the real me.

I had to put on thick masks every time, and that exhausted me. I needed to recharge myself at home. There, I had a partner - more loyal than humans - waiting for me. I'd hug and kiss him, and I'd feel whole again. Well, mostly.

My mind growled in annoyance when Sara pushed in, trespassing my personal boundary and pressed her chest to my arm.

'Hold it in. Rein yourself.' I chided myself, putting on another fake smile. I pulled my arm from her grip, then pushed her away gently.

"Sara, I have an appointment with Yakov. I need to leave now. See you later." I kissed her cheek lightly, slightly disgusted when I saw her blush like a maiden.

Waving the staff goodbye, I walked fast to the parking lot, avoiding most people who'd wanted to grab my attention. Actually, all of them looked my way when I passed through. I knew what they wanted, but I wasn't about to give them that satisfaction.

Nodding shortly to general direction of the people, I quickly escaped the place and finally reaching the basement. I parked my car there, and thankfully no one was around at this time. I fished out the key, and unlocked the door. The stylish silver sport car gave a short alarm, notifying me that the door had been unlocked.

I threw in my wallet and phones on the seat beside me and turned on the engine. It gave me a lovely purr.

Waiting for the engine to warm up, I checked my phone. I had been ignoring the constant buzz, knowing exactly who was it from.

Pressing the power button, the phone's LED lit up, showing me 10 text messages. I unlocked the screen and opened the application. The messages were sent from one person. I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose. Talking about bad case of stalker, JJ was being a pain again.

I turned the screen off again and pulled down the hand brake. With the slightest step on the gas, I steered the car out from the parking lot and into the open space. The snow had stopped falling, finally!

9 days to Christmas, a lot of people began to crowd the street, looking for presents and planning for parties. I wasn't much of a party lover. Well, I didn't really mind going to one, but I couldn't say I was particularly eager either. It was more of an obligation than anything. Besides, the only party I'd willingly attend was Yakov's or Nikolai Plisetsky's. The two weren't part of the fame-hyenas.

I lowered down the speed, being extra careful not to cause an accident. I'd never hear the end of it if Yakov found out I hit someone on the way to his house. Thankfully, his house was nearby.

Pulling over, I parked the car in front of his house. Yakov lived in a housing complex with big enough lawn for parking, but the old man loved his garden too much. I wouldn't want to ruin his carefully cared grass blanket and had him chew my ears off. It was easier to run away too if I simply parked outside.

I got out of the car and locked it with the small remote chained to the key. Then, I walked over the intercom and waited for him to open the door. From the small, white machine, I heard shuffling of feet and a familiar grunt. I smiled, knowing Yakov's habits. He always grunted when he saw me.

"Vitya! Took you long enough!"

The automatic iron gate slided open for me. I walked in, greeting Yakov with a peck to his left cheek. The older man wore a long sleeved grey-colored wool sweater I bought him last Christmas.

"I have to finish the scene-taking today, Yakov. You know how it goes," I chuckled lightly and led him into the warmth embrace of the house. Despite the thick coat I wore, the cold still managed to pierce into my bones, sending my teeth chattering.

"You and your stupid movies," Yakov huffed, shaking his head.

I pulled out my shoes and put it aside, leaving only my socks to walk into the living room. As I made myself comfortable, Yakov brought two empty glasses and a bottle of Vodka. One eyebrow raised up, I clicked my tongue in little annoyance.

"Vodka? Yakov, you're not supposed to drink alcohol!"

He put the glasses in front of me and poured us some, ignoring my obvious anger. This man really had no self-awareness. He was always a heavy drinker, and even after fallen victim to stroke a few years before, it didn't really stop the man from ruining himself further.

"I'm drinking just a little." He showed me his glass. It wasn't even quarterly filled.

I sighed in defeat. As stubborn as I could go, Yakov could be my equal in that area, if not worse. But who am I to judge, really, when I'm also ruining myself by overworking my body?

Taking the offered glass, I made a toast gesture and drank a quarter of it in a big gulp. Heat spread instantly, burning my throat but warming my body. I cringed. I didn't really hate the drink, but I hated the taste. It was so bitter. Why didn't Yakov pick the sweet ones…like Baileys.

"Why did you call me here, by the way?" I put down the drink. Though I doubted he'd tell me anything I didn't already know, I'd still listen to my him. Yakov is my Godfather after all.

I waited until he slowly finished the drink. When it was emptied, he moved the glass back to the table. Almost. I waited in confusion as Yakov suddenly froze midway, his glass hovered between the table and floor. Then, without warning, the glass was dropped. It hit the edge of the table with a loud thud, then crashed to the floor.

Eyes widened in alarm, I stood up and run to him, just in time to catch his falling body. I didn't think I noticed a large piece of glass scraped my leg, because a damn scratch didn't mean a thing right now.

December 16 [Midnight], Detroit.

Minutes passed like hours when you're in distress. That wasn't a common phrase anyone would say to someone like me. They regarded me as a genius and being it meant that I felt no pressure. I was inhumanly capable of doing anything, and incapable of feeling pressure and stress. They really put me on a high pedestal unbefitting a mere human being.

I splashed my face with more water, grateful that the water was frigid enough to keep me awake. I wouldn't forgive myself if I fell asleep while Yakov was fighting for his life. I should've stopped him. I knew he had a bad history with alcoholic beverages. I didn't know it had gone past the boundary of safe and endangered his life.

Guilt clenched my chest painfully. I was fully aware to why Yakov invited me to his house, even to offer a drink. Yakov knew me since childhood and he knew of my weakness. My tongue was very loose when I had a drink and he intended for me to vomit the poisons harming my system.

I drove Yakov to this situation. He knew I was not in a good mental condition.

Suppressing the urge to smash the mirror to pieces, I wiped the excess water away from my face. I looked horrible, I noted. Not my face, I was pretty sure of it. Though there were slight bags under my eyes, they weren't so noticeable. But if someone knew me better, like Yakov, they would see how dead the light in my eyes were.

I'm just so tired of it all. Movie making was becoming boring too. I'd done a lot of unexpected things to earn myself names and more awards, but as expected, I'd running out of the creative juice. I could no longer see the world in like a burst of colors like before. There were no more fireworks of ideas when I observed life.

The pressure from people around me didn't help either.

I sighed, wiping the last drop of water from my cheek. I needed to go back to Yakov. His surgery was ongoing and I would…I must be there when he woke up. I checked my phone again, reading a message from Sara about celebration party for finishing the last scene taking. I turned off my phone exasperatedly. Closing party and hyenas be damned.

December 16 [Evening], Detroit.

"You have no say in that matter, Yakov." I stared stonily at my Godfather, unwilling to yield. "I'm confiscating all of your alcoholic beverages. I don't care even if stop talking to me. I AM THROWING THEM ALL AWAY!"

Yakov pursed his lips tiredly at me. Damn this senile man. Didn't he understand the complication of drinking those to his body? I thought he had another stroke, but no. Yakov was diagnosed with a heart failure this time. Thank God I was not lacking in the financial department, so I could immediately agree to put in a pacemaker in his old heart.

Though alcohol didn't directly do this to him, it might as well be a significant contributor. The doctor implicitly ordered him not to drink anymore, supporting my opposition.

"You're not allowed to go back home. Be a good boy here and sleep." I sat back on the chair. The anger began to dissipate. "I know why you have it, but I don't want to be the reason for your death."

From the corner of my eyes, I saw Yakov smiled slightly. His eyes dropping shut. I shook my head with a slight tilt to my lips. I'll just have to talk to him again when he's soberer.

December 20 [Morning], Detroit.

"Vitya."

At the light tug of my sleeve, I looked up from my laptop, then turned to my Godfather. He was frowning. I looked back on my laptop. I knew I'd been working again, but it was light compared to the usual. Assuming it was something else, my eyes returned to him.

"What is it, Yakov?" I pulled out the earphone. "Are you hurting again?"

I put the laptop on the small coffee table beside my chair, then fussed at him. If he was feeling pain, I needed to call the doctor again. There might be chances of infection or device incompatibility, so it was wiser to always be vigilant.

Yakov swatted my hands away. "No. Please switch my room."

I paused in stunned silence. "Excuse me?"

"Switch my room. This place is too huge for a lonely old man like me. Move me to the public room."

As he waved his hands, my eyes roamed around the room too. I had Yakov checked in to the VIP room, so there were quite a few facilities. There was even a fridge even though most patients wouldn't be able to have cold drinks. I assumed they were for the visitors. The walls were painted differently too. Instead of the boring white as it looked in the other rooms, this room was given a lovely light blue.

But again, not that I couldn't understand his reasoning. I'd been avoiding people for too long to remember than most people actually hated being alone.

He had been quite docile since he was hospitalized. I guessed this time I could yield.

"Fine. I'll have them move you tomorrow."

"Today."

I heaved a long suffering sigh. "Fine. Today."

Why did this old man give me more trouble than the brattiest of brats, THE 'Yuri Plisetsky'? I'd like to see them compete in the attitude one day. I was sure the whole world would cheer. It might even be a good movie. Oh, joy.

December 20 [Noon], Detroit.

When one had money, everything would be much simpler. That was one thing I learned from being a financially capable person. Offer the other party a nice sum of money, and even a scowl changed to a smile. Usually, I'd hated it, but since it could fasten the relocation process, I guessed I was thankful too.

"Yakov, are you sure you want to stay here?" I glanced around the room painted in dull white. There were three other beds, and two were occupied, and that was right beside Yakov's and the one in front of him.

Yakov settled himself on the hard bed, sighing contently. "Yeah. Though you've been coming here a lot, there are just moments when you're not here. They can be my friends."

I looked back to the bed beside Yakov's. It was occupied by a young male with hair as dark as coal. His eyes were closed and his breathing was slow. Sleeping? Or…

"Ah, that young one there hasn't woken up even once since he was admitted. No one really knows who he is."

Approaching the said bed, I noted how his lips were cut and there were a few ugly bruises on his pale arms and neck. Despite the blemish, though, he was a very attractive man. I wondered what color his eyes were.

"Vitya?"

I snapped back, moving away from the man and back to my Russian Godfather. Something about the man tugged at me. "He looked Asian," I commented. Yakov looked at me strange, but I ignored him.

December 25 [Morning], Detroit.

It's so dark…

So cold…

It hurts…

Where am I…?

It was so bright when I opened my eyes. Bright as in painfully blinding. The sudden intrusive white sent massive pain to both my eyes and head within a second my eyes fluttered open. Blinking a few times, I tried to chase away the white spots. It was annoyingly persistent.

A few more blinking, then my eyes adjusted to the light. Both my head and eyes were still throbbing dully, but it was manageable. I felt like a deep-sea fish suddenly exposed to the sunlight.

I tried to make a sound, but I stopped, cringing in so much pain. There were needles stuck in my throat. I couldn't even try to groan. Every parts of my body protested, not only my throat.

Moving my eyes around, I tried to gather as much information as possible to my whereabouts. If possible, getting an answer to my hazy memories. My brain hadn't rebooted completely, it seemed. It was hard to even start thinking.

With my head as rigid as a statue, I looked from the corner of my eyes. I was greeted with an unfamiliar view. To describe it shortly, this place reeked of disinfectant, and was hauntingly depressing. The whole room was decorated with whites, even the blanket covering the upper half of my body. I stared longer at both of my arms, noticing needles were stuck into my vein, pumping me liquids from the IV drips bag.

I couldn't feel my arms, other than massive pain all around. I couldn't move any of my fingers. What happened?!

I gasped soundlessly as panic began to attack me. Tears fell from the corner of my eyes, and I hyperventilated. My eyes squeezed shut, my lungs reactively tried to get more oxygen, but none supplied. I was close to fainting.

"Vitya!"

"I know. Call the doctor, Yakov!" I felt someone's presence nearby. Warm hands cupped my face, tilting my chin. "Calm down. Breath slowly. You're okay, you're gonna be okay." Who was that? His voice was familiar… A presence that calmed my nerves.

"Breathe…yes, that's good, breathe slowly…" I gasped slower now that my panic attack was under control. I opened my eyes again and slowly turned to find silver hair and…blue eyes…

I stop breathing again.

Now, we have our favorite couple back! Won't you be the good and caring readers and let me know what you think of it? Reviews & favorites give power to the author! :3