Day before the performance:

"Okay, Chris, let's go over that one more time." Viktor was annoyed; Chris wasn't getting it. All he wanted were the flashy riffs and places to show off, but 'Everybody Loves Me' was not a song that contained many of those. Chris didn't like it. He glared at Viktor.

"Why are we doing this song, anyway?" Viktor rolled his eyes.

"Because it proves a point. Come on, Chris. Just figure it out." He turned, re-adjusting his mic. He motioned to Otabek and JJ.

"Anybody else got anything to say?" He asked passive-aggressively. Otabek shrugged, the usual stoic look on his face that only went away around Yuri Plisetsky. JJ, on the other hand, glared at Viktor, saying,

"Can we start already?"

Viktor turned, sighing in defeat. He closed his eyes, gripping the mic with his right hand and the stand with his left. He gestured to JJ to count in the song. JJ hit his sticks together, yelling One, two, three, four! and they started. As the song progressed, Viktor started to lose focus.

"Oh, my, feels just like I don't try, looks so good I might die, all I know is everybody loves me..."

Viktor's thoughts traveled back to last year's performance. He saw on the roster that History Makers were playing, and he immediately decided that they would play 'Everybody Loves Me' because he wanted to show that they were better than the History Makers. The others asked repeatedly why; he simply said that he disliked them. They asked why he hated them; he said he didn't like the fact that they were trying to force them out of the music world, even though he knew they weren't.

He would never admit the real reason he hated them.

Viktor had seen Yuuri's face that night, had sang to him. He didn't know why; it just felt right. He remembered how Yuuri had turned away, as though he were better than Viktor. Viktor smirked, distracted. He put all his emotions into that song, dancing as though he were on stage. He hated Yuuri; he made Viktor feel less than human. He had simply wanted to talk to Yuuri; to get to know him, but Yuuri had just ignored him. He glared into the wall.

"Umm… Viktor?" said Chris. Viktor turned around, facing the band. His face fell, taking in the expressions of his band-mates.

"Hunh?" He said. Chris looked at Viktor's hand, which was white; he was gripping the stand too hard.

"The song's still going." Viktor glared at him.

"I know!"

"You stopped singing." Chris had a worried look on his face, an emotion he rarely expressed. Viktor stopped.

"What?" He checked himself.

"It was that Yuuri guy again, wasn't it?" Viktor jumped.

"What? NO! What are you ta—"

"Don't pretend like it's not. I've seen you around him. You used to rave about how cool he was, then after that performance last year, you suddenly started hating him. Why?" Viktor just faced forward, releasing the stand and stretching out his fingers. He rolled his head around, glowering.

"Let's just do the song," he growled. Chris didn't look ready to drop the subject, but although he opened his mouth to say something, he closed it again quickly.

"Alright." He might up his guitar pick, strumming a few practice notes. JJ counted in the song, and they began. They didn't get far.

"Head, down, swayin' to my own sound, flashes in my face now, all I know is everybody…"

"Vitkor! Keep singing! Come on!" yelled Otabek angrily, strumming harder on his bass. Viktor realized that he'd stopped singing again.

"Well, I, play the music, don't stop 'till I turn gray…" Viktor started singing again, pouring himself into singing for the band. He tried to ignore the memory of Yuuri's face that was trying to force its way into his brain.

"Oh, my, feels just like I don't try, looks so good I might die, all I know is everybody loves me. Everybody loves me, Ohhhhhhhhhhhh." Otabek hit off the last few notes, JJ playing until the very end. JJ held off until the very end of the song, but as soon as it was done…

"VIKTOR! IF YOU AREN'T GOING TO SING, THEN WHAT'S THE POINT OF THIS BAND?!" JJ screamed, getting up from his drum kit and getting in Viktor's face. Viktor, generally the kind of person who'd hold his ground in a fight, just cowered.

"What is UP with you, Viktor? Ever since that performance last year, this band has been falling apart. You need to stop focusing on the winning part of it and think about the fact that maybe we don't care. Maybe we don't care about winning. Maybe we just want to play." Viktor looked at JJ, this realization dawning on him.

"We're fine for the performance, if Viktor can get himself together. I'll see you tomorrow." JJ stomped out of the practice space, simmering. Viktor only stared as the rest of his band-mates packed up their instruments, Otabek muttering something about a date and Chris saying they wouldn't be able to play with just two of the four people present. Viktor stood there for a few moments, empty room.

"Everybody Loves Me, eh?" Viktor muttered, sitting down on a fold-out chair. He was fine, but then, suddenly, the tears hit.

Viktor cried, his head in his hands. He didn't know what was wrong with him; he didn't realize anything in his performance had changed. Viktor's shoulders wracked with sobs, his eyes were puffy, and his hands were red with the prolonged pressure against his forehead. Then a sound came.

"Hey, um, someone accidentally delivered the wrong mail to my practice space, and I—" He stopped, seeing Viktor. Viktor looked up, taking in the running slacks and light sweater. The black rimmed glasses. The brown eyes.

Those eyes.

"Yuuri?" Viktor stood, anger now etching his features. Yuuri placed the mail on a chair by the door. He took in the color of Viktor's face, the sobs that still shook his frame, and started to walk backwards.

"Um, sorry, I have—to—go…" Yuuri slipped out the door, turning and running once he reached the street.

Viktor sat back down on the chair, crying even harder. He couldn't stop the tears, even while he was sleeping.

He'd just wanted to get to know Yuuri, that day a year ago, and he'd just ignored him. He told himself that was the problem. That it was because he wanted to be his friend.

But he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to it than that.