CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED EIGHT
The Ladies Singles medaling ceremony was the last thing, other than a break to resurface the ice, that separated Men's Singles from everything else. Mila had managed to snag Silver for her efforts, and her place in the Grand Prix Final along with it, so she was quite pleased with herself as she stood on the middle-level podium.
As she came back off the ice, Viktor was still clapping, though Yakov was as stoic as ever.
[Well...] She started, smiling excitedly despite her slight disappointment as she looked at the glass disc with its silver-leaf inscription inside. Deep-blue eyes glanced down as she stepped off the ice, nudging the tall Russian with an elbow where he'd been leaning on the rink wall against his own. He turned those slate eyes to follow her, and smiled as well as she used his shoulder as a support to start putting on her blade-guards, [...It's not gold, but I guess it's okay.]
[I feel like I sabotaged you.] Viktor sighed, holding still as she switched skates, turning his head where he held his chin in his palm, looking back out over the ice, [Maybe I'll make you wait until the Free Skate before I let you try to steal my thunder next time... At least then you'll know if it'll actually be worth it...]
[Don't be so hard on yourself. Knowing you, I imagine you found some other rink to go practice at, and have been drilling yourself all morning.] The lithe woman pointed out, sliding her arms through her team jacket as the lights in the stadium started coming on again.
"We will now take a 30 minute break to resurface the ice. The Men's Singles Free Skate competition will begin in 45 minutes." The announcer sounded overhead.
Viktor lowered his head once the echo vanished, [Well...yeah, that's basically true.] He huffed a quiet laugh and stood upright, stuffing his hands into his team-jacket's pockets, embarrassed at his obviousness, [Only a few people know, but this will be the last time I do this Free Skate. I'm retiring it after today.]
[Really?] She looked at him, surprised, [Why? This'll only be the second time you've done it. Did you hurt yourself with it last time?] She reached to take his elbow as they started walking.
Yakov just listened quietly as he followed the pair back into the prep area, moving through the heavy blue curtain with the others who'd been part of the ceremony.
[No, I didn't hurt myself at all.] Viktor went on, [But you saw part of that fight yesterday, and you know the truth now about what really happened last year. My program was born out of all that. As much as I like the actual show itself, the reasoning behind its existence is weighing me down. I promised Yuri that I'd drop it after today. So...that's actually what I was up to all morning...practicing my new Free Skate. I'll be debuting it tomorrow at the Exhibition.]
[Wooow~!] Mila fawned excitedly, [Did you already have this show in the wings somewhere or did you just make it up since yesterday?]
[I just made it up.] He laughed, [I called in a rush-request to my tailors back in St. Petersburg, too. They're going to try and come up with something in time for the Final next weekend.]
[You're lucky that they like you as much as they do. If you were anyone else, I imagine they would've just laughed you off the phone.]
[Maybe. They've been good to me.] He pulled his phone out to check the time, [Anyway, I should get back. I need to give Yuri a little TLC before I break off to get my head in the game. Are you staying for the next event?]
[Are you kidding? Putin himself couldn't get me out of this building before I see that Gold medal around your neck.] She grinned.
.
Phichit was already starting to sweat bullets as he stretched. Yuri and Celestino sat nearby, watching him quietly.
If I don't get Gold here, I probably won't have the scores to beat Chris... The Thai skater thought, reaching forward to pull himself down on top of one leg, the other stretched out straight behind himself, Ahh this is so stressful! Why couldn't I have gone to Rostelecom instead of Skate America!? Even if I couldn't beat Otabek, I could've beaten JJ for the Silver...! Maybe...!? Then getting Silver here wouldn't be a big deal cuz I'd already have one instead of a Bronze!
He was practically a puddle of wiggly, anxious Jell-O, almost crying where he was on the floor.
"Yuri!"
Phichit flailed in surprise like a fish jumping out of the water, landing on his back in a nervous heap. Celestino tilted his head at the skater, looking up from his tablet.
Yuri blinked at him, but then rose to standing as he spotted the Russian legend coming towards them all. He turned to where Phichit was trying to roll back up to sitting, "I'm off, then. I'm going to go sit in the audience with Yurio and the others since I'm not on Coach-Duty today, but I'll come back down when Viktor heads to the kiss and cry, alright?"
The Thai skater was slouching over his parted, outstretched legs, "...Okay..." He whimpered.
The older figure hesitated a moment, but then went down to crouch on one knee and put his hands on his friend's shoulders, getting him to look up, "Phichit-kun...go out there and do your best. I saw your FS from Skate America and it's really good! Chris only beat you by 3 points there."
"I know..." Phichit sighed, "It's his Trophée de France score I'm worried about. He already has me beat in the Short Program, and his Free Skate was really good, too..."
"Wasn't enough to beat Yurio for the Silver though. You still have a good shot." Yuri pointed out, then leaning forward to hug his arms around the skater's head and neck, "Ganbatte, ne? You have to make Celestino wear that hamster-hat."
Dark hazel eyes blinked up at the sound of those words, and Phichit tried to smile despite his nerves, "That's true. Thanks, Yuri...I'll see you later, then."
The older skater nodded and got back up to his feet, stepping into his partner's outstretched arm and walked off quietly with him. He sighed loudly when they were out of ear-shot, drawing in a little closer as they headed towards the empty hall around the arena. When they were around the last corner, Yuri turned on his heel and buried his face against the man's team jacket, "Why does Yakov want to meet you so much earlier than you suggested anyway? You're in Group 2 today...that's at least an hour and a half from now..."
"Because he thinks it'll take longer than 30 minutes for me to get ready." Viktor answered, loosely draping his arms over his husband's shoulders, "Maybe he's right."
"...I was really hoping you'd be able to watch Group 1 with us, and then just take off during the break..." The younger skater lamented.
"Me too." The Russian nodded, rubbing his cheek across the top of his partner's head, "But every minute that passes is a minute closer to being done."
"Please don't get hurt." Yuri finally said, fingers holding tighter to the man's jacket.
"Yuri."
He didn't want to let go, but he could feel a hand leaving his back, coming up to his shoulder again, two soft fingers gliding down the side of his jaw until he gave in and looked up. It pained him to see the Russian smiling, given what he was about to go do to himself, and he could feel the tears starting to rise at the inside corners of his eyes, "I know you can handle the rest...but please, please don't get hur-"
The Russian quieted him the only way he knew how, and pulled his left hand up to weave it through that raven hair, cupping his palm against the back of his partner's head to hold him still. He held there until he could feel the fingers clutching at his coat ease off a little, leaning aside then to whisper into the man's ear, "This is the safest place we can be outside the Ice Castle...maybe even more so, because of all the people here who can step in and help right away if something does somehow go wrong."
"I know... I'm...sorry..." Yuri said nervously, trying to rub his eyes to hide his shame, "I'm letting my anxiety about this get the better of me again."
"If it hadn't been for yesterday, I'd tell you there was nothing to worry about. Trying to convince you not to worry would just be an insult to why you're worrying at all though, so I won't." Viktor went on, "It means a lot to me that you feel this way. But please, Yuri..." He leaned his face down to touch their foreheads and nose-tips together, "...Don't let all this stuff behind the scenes ruin everything for you. Skating is what we live for, right? One man doesn't have the power to take the fun of competition from us. So...go find Yurio and Minako-sensei, and try to enjoy being just a fan today. Don't think about what you're missing, or about what's happening out of sight, and I'll see you again after the kiss and cry."
The younger man nodded quietly, closing his eyes where he could still feel his husband's bangs against his skin, drawing in a slow breath before opening them again, "I wish I could be there to see the look on Konstantin's face when you show him why they call you a legend."
"Tell Uncle Mimi to get a photo since he's babysitting tonight."
"We could add some of those hideous SnapChat filters to the picture. Like the dog-nose with the big tongue...and the ears."
Viktor couldn't help but laugh at that, though the jostle dislodged a tear from his grey lashes, falling to his partner's cheek before he could stop it, "Oh Yuri...I really hate leaving you like this..."
"You have unfinished business to contend with." The younger skater said quietly, hands coming up from the man's jacket to settle palms against pale cheeks, "Go heal yourself. I'll be waiting for you when you're done."
The Russian nodded, savoring that last kiss for everything it was worth.
.
.
.
"The score for Myrick Rhys Sayer...182.43."
Applause rose up from the audience for the Welsh skater. He looked disappointed though, burying his face into the petals of a bouquet of flowers in his hands as his coach tried to cheer him up.
Phichit watched nervously as he stepped towards the rink entrance with Celestino close behind. He reached up with anxious hands towards the zipper-tab near the front of his throat, and gently tugged it down so he could pull the team jacket away.
"Next on the ice tonight, representing Thailand...Phichit Chulanont."
Whistles and cheers greeted him as he pulled off his blade-guards and stepped out onto the ice, waving at the audience pleasantly before turning back towards the rink-wall. When he pulled his hands down though, all he could see was how much they were shaking.
Celestino reached out to calm his nerves by clasping his fingers lightly around his student's forearms, "Of all the skaters here, you have the best chance at gold."
"But Vikt-"
"Don't worry about him. You're playing to win...he's playing to survive. How badly do you want to get into the Final again?"
"Really bad!" Phichit insisted, lifting his head, a worried but determined look on his face.
"Do you want it bad enough to score over 205 tonight?"
"O-Over 205!? Is that how high I have to go to beat Chris for the 6th spot!?"
"Yes, but remember...tonight, you're aiming to beat Viktor, not Chris. If you go out there thinking Viktor's already beaten you, you'll just sabotage yourself, so do your best and make him fight for it, okay?" Celestino advised, pulling the skater's right hand up to clasp it between both of his, giving the back of it a quick pat before spinning him around on his shoulders to point him towards the center of the rink.
"...Okay!"
Yuri watched from the high part of the audience, sitting with the proverbial Three Musketeers from their corner-side box seats, just above the covered-over hockey scoreboard. From their vantage, they could see the entire rink unobstructed, and the only other people nearby were event staffers and people manning the bird's-eye television cameras. To the skater's left, his Russian counterpart...to the right, his former ballet instructor, and beyond her, his uncle-in-law. Both Minako and Mikhail had the presence of mind to get seat cushions after the previous day, so Yuri didn't feel bad about bringing his and Viktor's for himself and Yurio to use.
The nervous skater sat forward in his seat and cupped his hands around his mouth as he saw Phichit making his way around to center, "GANBAAAAA! PHICHIT-KUUUUUUN!"
The ice-bound figure lifted his head, but couldn't tell where the holler had come from, so he just waved as well as he could, hoping Yuri would know it was for him, and then finally took his spot over the NHK logo.
His outfit was a stark departure from the Thai-inspired 'King' outfit from his Short Program, though it was still elaborate in its own way. It looked more like a man's ballet costume, with a delicately embroidered jacket, pearl and crystal over a white base, with gold and silver braided ribbons sewn to the front, shoulders, back, and down the arms in elaborate twists. The sleeves were flared at the wrists, with several inch-long tear-drop crystals of clear and dark blue hanging off the ends. The leggings were plain, adding to the ballet-theme, though the skater had spared himself the unintended focus by making them only as tight as his 'Shall We Dance' ensemble, with covers that went over each of his dark boots.
The skater's starting position was similar to a ballerina's 3rd position, one heel in front of the other, left arm up in an arc, the right out to the side, but he bent himself over, as though the pose were in a bowing position.
Minako had a hand over her chin as she watched it, "...What's he doing, Yuri?"
"Both of his programs this year are based on different kinds of dances. The one from yesterday was Thai theater, this one is traditional ballet. They're both connected by the a theme he describes as 'rising up and being better than you were.' After he got last year's 'The King and the Skater' out of his system, he wanted to go back to his roots and do some stuff that reminded him of his own upbringing into figure skating." The skater answered, "It's pretty different, that's for sure."
['Shatter Me' - Lindsey Stirling Feat. Lzzy Hale]
Phichit drew in one last deep breath, and the music began, echoing into the rafters of the stadium with the sound of a wind-up toy being cranked three times before a chime started. With each 'crank,' the skater rose slightly more upright, looking stiff and robotic like a wind-up toy would. As the chime began, he toe-picked forward, bringing his arms down, then twisting around backwards as he came around the first arc around the short end of the rink.
I pirouette in the dark
He twizzled three times, splaying his arms out on the exit.
I see the stars through a mirror
A violin began playing overhead, and the skater twisted and turned in time with it, skates scratching the ice as he went.
Tired mechanical heart, beats 'til the song disappears
The beat started rising, and Phichit's speed increased as well, footwork becoming more intense as he glided across the rink.
Somebody shine a light, I'm frozen by the fear in me
Somebody make me feel alive
Outside spread-eagle...
And shatter me...!
...Triple Axel, landing into another outside spread-eagle.
So cut me from the line, dizzy, spinning endlessly
A combo of twizzles, 3 forward inside followed by 3 forward outside.
Somebody make me feel alive...
He flew through the forward cross-cuts as he passed the opposite end of the rink, and twisted into an inside 3-Turn, standing on his right back outside edge with the left leg out behind himself...
...and shatter me...!
Quad toe-loop on the base-drop.
The audience cheered wildly for the quad, propelling the skater forward on the rush of excitement. He moved through another expressive arc of footwork, arms moving in wide sweeps, extending as far as they could go on the emphasis of each loud thrum of the beat. He quickly moved down the center of the rink, twisting over himself several times before finally moving into a 3-turn and...
Shatter me!
Triple Lutz, triple Toe-loop combo with a long exit, leg extended far behind. He brought it down to thrust into a tight figure-8 of inside spread-eagles, kicking out again to build up speed.
Somebody make me feel alive, and shatter me...
As the singer's voice faded slightly with the power of the background music, Phichit slid into a Spiral maneuver, left leg high out ahead of himself as he skated backwards, arms behind and stretched out, fingers extended. When the leg came down, he arced only slightly and set the skate down, throwing his right leg into the triple Axel, and descended immediately into his step sequence.
If only the clockwork could speak, I wouldn't be so alone
The program was already starting to wear him down, sweat beading on his forehead, but he knew that to get his spot in the Final, he'd have to push through with everything he had. Feet were a blur beneath him, hips twisting, arms all but flailing to the music.
We'd burn every magnet and spring, and spiral into the unknown...
At the end of the sequence, he volleyed himself into a difficult-entry sit spin, leaping as high as he could for the death-drop flying entry, and going immediately into the twist variant, one arm rising to the rafters.
Somebody shine a light
The world was a blur all around him, but he pressed on, spinning as fast as he could, No one likes a slow-spin. Those are boring. If I want to win this...I have to excite them! FASTER!
He rose up from there into a swift upright-spin, grabbing the left blade with his right hand as the left hand went above himself. The captured blade kicked out, and Phichit used the force to hop slightly for extra difficulty, using his upper body to go faster again as he dipped into the arms-out camel-spin variant.
I'm frozen by the fear in me
A quick burst of energy, and the Thai skater was off in a line again, arcing out of the spin with deep side-lunges until he could see down the long-line center of the rink.
Somebody make me feel alive
He lowered himself into a knee-slide, spinning around twice before rising up, setting up his blade on the inside-edge, and kicked off for the triple Flip, single Loop, triple Salchow combination jump, This is it... He thought nervously, legs starting to burn, This marks the start of the second half... I gambled and put most of my harder jumps towards the end of the program for bonus points, but will it be enough!? He could hardly feel his feet anymore, never mind the blades beneath them.
And shatter me
So cut me from the line; dizzy, spinning endlessly
Outside, standing all-but-alone in the snowy cold, Viktor could hear Yakov speaking... His heart was already starting to pound in frustration. News of how the skating community was reacting to his Short Program, their speculation about it being the end of his career, some even blaming Yuri's 'coaching' as his worst possible idea, and to go back to Yakov and St. Petersburg full-time. Not many seemed to understand that the position was honorary, not literal. That the fandom would blame his husband for his own failures on the ice...it was maddening, It was my fault...it was my father's fault... He thought, fists clenched where he held them in his jacket pockets, Yuri's the only reason I'm even skating this year and they...have the audacity to say he's dragging me down!? KONSTANTIN DID THIS. Everything the skater saw in his mind...the media mob doing the interview, himself in the kiss and cry getting his poor score...all of it, the shadow of his father loomed over everything like a dark, corrupting stain.
Somebody make me feel alive, and shatter me...!
Phichit threw himself into a quad Salchow, landing deep with the sweeping leg. He turned and flew down the ice, arms continuing to mimic the moves of ballerinas. The violin-drop coordinated each step, pausing on a few only to fault back again.
Shatter me!
He pressed into a mohawk and leapt into the triple Flip, triple Loop combo, moving out quickly again with the beat, his body thrashing like a wind-up toy trapped under glass, desperate to get out.
Somebody make me feel alive, and shatter me...
When the music shifted, the skater switched stances, pushing himself into a backwards camel-spin.
If I break the glass then I'll have to fly
He reached back for his blade, holding it firm behind his head for the donut-spin variant, raising one arm up as well. He could feel himself starting to slow down though, so as he let go of the skate, he dipped down to throw the leg out again and build momentum. Back in position, he twisted his core and faced the ceiling for the layover variant.
There's no one to catch me if I take a dive
Rotations were making the skater dizzy, but he pressed on, moving back to normal camel-spin position and hopping to change feet, and reaching back for the half-Biellmann.
I'm scared of changing, the days stay the same
He moved out backwards to regain his bearings, keeping his arms and free leg loose as he hopped into the second required step sequence.
The world is spinning but only in gray, if I break the glass then I'll have to fly
There's no one to catch me if I take a dive, I'm scared of changing, the days stay the same
The world is spinning but only in gray
Phichit slid closely along the edge of the wall, flying past the judges tables like the wind. When he came out past them, he descended into an extended hydroblade, getting as close to the ice as he could while keeping his arms up above his sides.
Somebody shine a light, I'm frozen by the fear in me
Somebody make me feel alive, and shatter me
His last jump of the program was the one he was dreading the most, but this late in the program, even if he fell or over-rotated, the single-point mandatory deduction would be eaten by the second-half point bonus. He twisted on his blades, putting himself onto a left back inside edge, feeling the cold air blow by him. The music seemed to fade out for a moment as he crossed the right skate behind the left, feeling the energy building up in his shoulders as the blade moved across the ice. He dipped low, almost so far as to look like he was sitting, and then pushed everything he had into the jump.
One...two...three...four...
...and he fell. The audience winced; the quad Loop had almost gone through, but they clapped when they saw him get up quickly to continue with the end of the program like he'd hardly noticed it.
Yuri fell back into his seat, "So close!"
So cut me from the line, dizzy, spinning endlessly
Somebody make me feel alive, and shatter me
Minako was waving her Thai flag around, "Go Phichit!"
Yurio had his feet up on the railing, and watched dutifully.
Mikhail still had no idea what he was looking at for the most part, but it was still fun. At least, as fun as it could be considering he wasn't watching half of it, keeping an eye out for other things.
Shatter me...!
The exhausted skater threw himself into his final element, vaulting as high as he could for the flying entry into the sit spin and extending his leg as he bent himself over it with his arms extended, the ice whirring away beneath him as he shifted his blade to change edges. He dipped lower, bending over the extended leg completely, grabbing it and tilting his head down. When he felt the 8th rotation, he twisted up and brought his extended leg back behind himself, grabbing it from underneath this time to hold it behind his grounded skate.
Somebody make me feel alive
He rose up for the finale, releasing the blade as he stood, and pushing himself into the final scratch-spin, both arms up above his head.
And shatter me!
On the final thrum of the beat, Phichit dug in his toe-pick and came to an abrupt stop, arms coming down and then thrust up and out, head held high.
The music was gone, and for a second, all the skater could hear was the sound of his own desperate gasps for air, and the rush of blood in his ears, his heart pounding like a hammer in his chest.