Victor loved shopping after Yuri's practices.

When the angry blonde kid teen was done sashaying around the slick ice, Victor threw him and his fiance inside the rented Ford Taurus that shined blue like the frigid waves of Lake St. Claire massaging the Riverwalk. The small sedan slid along the damp streets as Victor jerked the car forward and feathered the gas pedal with his white sneakers. Yuuri clutched his chest and yelped with every twist and turn Victor made down the narrow road. His throat clenched in anxiety while clinging onto the cool leather of the car seat like a drowning swimmer on a liferaft.

"Slow down." Yuuri shouted. "Please, Victor. I don't want to die."

"Go faster, Victor," Yuri said with his arms crossed in the backseat. "I wouldn't mind dying today."

Victor slammed on the breaks.

The loss in momentum lurched Yuuri forward. He hit his head on the dashboard and groaned in pain.

"Oh, God, my head. Why?" he cried.

Victor looked behind him while the tires screeched on the pavement. The sedan snaked backwards and slid into place between two limousines in front of the tall brick building. The car rocked as it froze in place.

Yuuri whimpered while he was hunched over in pain. Victor patted him on the head.

"It's okay, Yuuri," the gray haired Russian said with a smile. He opened the tiny glove compartment in front of Yuuri and took out a large red box. "I brought the ice pack with me this time."

Yuri rolled his eyes and kicked open the door. He climbed outside and looked up at the large department store. Thrusting his hands in his hoodie pocket, he frowned while footsteps stomped behind him. Victor tapped him on his narrow shoulder and shoved him forward.

"Time to go shopping," Victor said cheerfully.

"Don't buy anything expensive," Yuuri said as he stumbled behind Victor.

Yuri rolled his eyes as he followed them like a dog owner keeping his beagles from running astray. Spinning through the obsidian revolving doors, the tungsten lighting bore an orange tint on the perfume section sitting by the front entrance. Gold and silver bottles twinkled like stars on the mirror counters. Victor laughed as he ran towards the cologne and sprayed an orange capsule in the air.

"I need a new cologne for Skate America. People are going to think I'm losing my image. What do you think, Yurio? Strawberry cologne?"

Yuri coughed as Victor wafted the strong fumes towards him. "That's disgusting. Fruity cologne is gross."

Victor looked over at Yuuri, who held an ice pack to his forehead. "Strawberry or peach?"

Yuuri looked over to the two and stammered. "Just whatever you want, Victor. You'll smell good either way."

"The only person I aim to please is you, Yuuri. What's good for you is the same for me."

As the two smiled at each other, Yuri gagged and pivoted away from them. He started to walk past the cologne stands and into the suit area.

Victor took Yuri's sleeve and pulled him back. "Where are you going, Yurio? You know you need adult supervision."

"Shut up," Yuri said while looking forward. "I need a suit for the press conference in a few weeks. The one Yuuri scheduled."

Victor blinked. "I didn't know you had to schedule press conferences."

Yuri sighed. "That explains why he does all the schedule stuff. Stick to skating, old man."

Victor let him go. Yuri slogged through the store and found the formal wear section.

Yuri was not a fan of dressing up for any occasion. However, he knew impressions were important. It's not like people were fans of his due to his charismatic personality.

A fan rumbled above him during his search. Some english song hummed through the speakers in the ceiling, obscuring the ringing phones and idle chatter of other shoppers. Yuri felt the soft polyester of a pinstripe black suit run through his hands. The clothing had slightly padded shoulders with a slim cut around the waist. Pulling it off the rack, Yuri rubbed his thumb on the black lapels. They were sharp and ran long down the jacket. A light blue bow-tie could really set the suit off for the press.

"Someone is going to think your shoplifting."

Yuri tensed up and clenched a fist. He already knew who it was behind him. Turning around, it was the blonde girl wearing her tight, dark green school uniform. Her eternal smile shone in the bright store. Practically bouncing on her tiptoes, she took a step towards Yuri as if she were a doctor examining a patient.

He took a step back and held the suit in his hands. "We had a deal."

She nodded. "We did. If you tried the food I made, I'd leave you alone at school."

"And we're not in school," Yuri finished with frustration. "Contract reading is not something I'm good at."

She laughed. "You're funny."

"I wasn't joking. If I read contracts, I wouldn't be stuck here."

"Living with those two guys or in Detroit?"

Yuri took off his hoodie and brushed back his now exposed blonde hair. It was mussed up as he ran a hand through the soft follicles. "Both. How did you know about Victor and Yuuri?" He snapped.

She brushed the strands of her hair from her eyes. "They got out of the car with you. I was walking in to get some white wine in the kitchen section. I even said hello to you, and you ignored me."

Yuri shook his head. "I didn't ignore you. I just didn't hear you."

"Liar."

"Believe me, if I was ignoring you, you would know it."

She snatched the suit from Yuri's hands, causing him to gasp in shock. He tried to grab for it, but she put the suit up to Yuri's chest and examined it.

"I think this will be a little big on you. Although you don't seem like a suit guy to begin with."

Yuri frowned. "It's for a press conference."

"So you are a big deal."

Yuri fumed at the silly girl. He felt himself shake slightly in frustration like a burning building and clenched another fist. "Yes, I am a big deal. I'm going to be an even bigger deal soon."

She kept looking at the suit. "It looks good on you, though."

"I'm going to win Skate America and then the Grand Prix finals."

"Maybe a smaller size. The padding on the shoulders looks fake. Like your compensating for something.

"I'm going to win and never deal with Victor again."

"I think a bowtie would look good. Maybe blue."

Yuri froze. "That's what I was thinking."

She looked back up at him and smiled. "Good. Bowtie it is. I don't have the best fashion sense, so ask someone else along the way. Why do you care about it?"

Yuri raised an eyebrow. "Care about what?"

"Image."

Yuri looked down at his thin wrists. "Image is everything. You have to look good in this sport," he said. He took the suit from her and wrapped it around his arms. He glimpsed at her while rubbing the fabric like it was a genie lamp. "Grandpa always told me to dress well. That way, you feel like you're ready to take on anything. And it sucks, but you get treated better by people, too. If you just look like you came off the street, nobody will care about you."

"But you always look like you come off the street."

Yuri glared at her. "No offense," she said. "Nobody can see your face with that hoodie on all the time."

"I don't want to be noticed for things I'm not noticed for. I skate, and I want to be known for that. So if people are going to see me, I want it during skating. I don't care about the rest."

Yuri seemed placid, almost sad with the low tone he used. He leaned on the clothes rack behind him and looked down at his feet. "People are very simple, when you think about it. They just do what they were put on Earth for, and that's it. I'm here to skate. I'm not here to cure cancer. I'm not here to get married like those two idiots I live with. I definitely am not here to go to school and hear english lessons about that girl with that magazine job."

"The Bell Jar? The book we read for class?"

Yuri nodded. He stood up straight as an arrow and looked at the girl's shoulder. "It's not like it matters to you. I don't know why I'm saying this."

"It's no big deal," she said. "Maybe you could just do something that spices up your day once in a while."

"Skating spices up my day."

"Besides that," she said. Looking over to the kitchen section, she pointed to the refrigerators. "I have to get wine. Wanna come?"

"Not really."

She giggled. "Guess I'll see you in class, Yurio."

Yuri's eyes shot wide open and he glared at her. "What did you just call me?"

She turned around and waved, a smile growing on her face like the snow accumulating outside. "Nothing. Bye."

With a wink, she left.

Yuri sighed and looked back down at the dress. He was upset at himself for opening up to that girl. She was just a complete stranger, and he was speaking to her like they knew each other. Sure, the food she had given her was great, and she was undeniably attractive. However, all of that was destroyed every time she opened her mouth. Now, she was calling him by that dreaded name. It mad his skin crawl like a thousand worms were slogging through it. He needed to guard himself better. The last thing he needed was to spill his guts to somebody that may "leak" something out to the press.

"Yurio! How's my little Casanova doing?"

Too late.

Yuri looked over at the taller man. Victor had a deep, mischievous grin as he slapped a hand on his shoulder. "Hitting on your fans? Need to do better than that. I can teach you a thing or two."

Yuri batted away Victor's warm hand and smoothed out the front of his Team Russia hoodie. "Shut up. I was just talking to someone from class."

Victor clutched his chest and gasped. "A school romance. This is just like in those Japanese comics Yuuri reads when I'm not around. Momgo, it's called. Or is it manga?"

Yuri marched past Victor. "She's just a girl. Leave me alone."

"Not just a girl," Victor said. "The first person you've actually spoken to in America. It only took you six months. Yuuri didn't even speak to our neighbors for a month. He's way too shy for his own good. You have to get her number, though. She is really cute. If I was ten years younger and swung in that direction, I would do all I could to win her over. It could be good for your routine."

Yuri jabbed a finger at Victor's taut chest. Digging into Victor's red polo shirt, he growled. "Listen up, and listen good. This girl means nothing to me. I don't even remember her name. She is someone from class, and that's it. All I'm doing in this hellhole you call home is win. All I need you to do is coach me in skating. Not in life."

Victor smirked. 'Whatever you say. For a girl that you just met, you were quite open with her. You never talk about your grandfather around me."

Yuri was completely shellshocked. First, he gets roped into this random girl from school, and his coach was spying on him. What made Yuri felt worse was that he heard about his grandfather. It was almost like a deep piece buried inside him was released in the most meaningless fashion. These emotions were supposed to be bottled up and released on the ice like fireflies escaping a jar. Instead, he was shouting them out in a stuffy department store.

Yuri let his arm go limp. Shaking his head, he dragged himself towards the cash registers. "Forget it. I'm buying this. Bring your credit card so we can pay."

Victor skipped behind him. "Yuuri is already at the car."

"Don't care."

Victor chuckled. "By the way, blue bowtie would look horrific. Try the crimson one. It's only a hundred dollars more."

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