God, I know I'm not usually much of the religious type, but could you do me a solid? Let Yurio's first practice go well. Don't let it turn out like mine. Something like that would destroy his confidence and no mother ever wants that for her baby. No coach wants that for their skater. Just...please. Let this go well. That's all I ask for. Let this go well.
"Alright, Yuri," I dropped his bag on one of the empty benches, "We got the rink to ourselves. What do you want to skate first?"
"Primadonna," he requested.
"Thought so," I scrolled through my playlist, "There's no need to really take this practice seriously, baby. It's only to shake the cobwebs off, ok? Feel free to skate for fun."
"Ok," Yurio ran through his stretches, "So, no big jumps either?"
"God, no!" I freaked, "I know you have a few of them on lock, but if you end up getting hurt in the preseason, kiss your next Junior Grand Prix goodbye. Unless it heals in time, but we're not risking it."
"How bad could it be, though?" Yurio wondered, slipping his skates on.
"Pretty bad," I winced, "Talk to Victor about how bad it can be when you get hurt during preseason. Before we got you and Yuri, he was trying to show off once at the rink in St. Petersburg. He ended up breaking his tailbone. I love Victor dearly, but I had to take care of him for eight weeks after that. In that time, his doctor and his physical therapist told him not to skate for a while. You don't want that, do you?"
"No!" he shook his head, "I promise, Mama. No jumps."
"No big jumps," I clarified, "Do all the little jumps you want."
"But I don't want to get hurt."
"You'll be fine," I assured, "You'll only get hurt if you don't land them. And I know you can land your tricks, can't you?"
"Yeah," Yurio didn't sound too sure about that. Looks like he needs a boost.
"Make me proud, Dovahkiin," I kissed his cheek, "I know you will."
"I will!" The fire in his belly burned wild and bright. There he was. I must admit. His fears of injury were totally warranted. After the million and one falls I've taken this morning, I'm sure I had some bruises. Hopefully, that's all I had. A throbbing pain radiated through my hip and down my leg. I'll be ok. Just ice it and stretch it out and I'll be fine.
For now, I had Yurio's progress to check on. By the looks of his movements, the kid picked up right where he left off. A little sloppy, but Yurio's also been off the ice for a couple months while we've been moving. It's like he never stopped. I wonder where this is coming from. Maybe Yuri's win coming back to haunt him? Whatever worked for him. After a few more songs, I brought Yurio back to the barricade.
"You're doing great, sweetie," I kissed his sweaty forehead, "I'm proud of you. A little word of advice, though? Tighten up your spins. They were looking a bit lazy. You want the judges to know you enjoy being on the ice and you want to be here. In order to do that, you need to be able to spin on a dime, ok?"
"Alright," Yurio leaned over the rail, still out of breath.
"Yuri?" I grabbed his water bottle, "Are you ok?"
"I'm fine," he pulled himself together, taking a long drink, "I want to keep going."
"You sure?" I worried, "We can stop for the day. Or at the very least, we can take a break."
"No," Yurio pushed through, "I said I'm fine. If we're going to beat Piggy and Victor this year, I can't take any breaks."
"Yes, you can," I settled him, "Yuri, it's not good to strain yourself. I understand wanting to beat your brother, but you still need to take care of you. Are you sure you can still keep going?"
"I'm sure," he promised, scrolling through my phone, "And I'm ready to go back out."
"Alright," I let him go, "What did you pick?"
"You'll see," Yurio skated lazily to the center of the rink. A blaring brass section started playing. The kid's skating swing now? He's never skated Sinatra before. In fact, this was one of Victor's and my old routines! Someone's been spending some quality time on YouTube lately, hasn't he? Yurio modified one of our old couples routines for a single by himself? I'm impressed, kid. You really do make Mama proud. But pulling out "You Make Me Feel So Young" at your age? A little ahead of your time.
Yurio came back in, looking for my critique. Honestly, he didn't do too bad for coming up with most of it on the spot. I had to give him points for that. But it could've been a teeny bit cleaner. It's been a while for him, though. Nevertheless, I was still proud of him. Both as my skater and my son.
"You haven't lost a step, Yuri," I praised, "Very nice. Another one of those things we save for future reference, though? Stay out of our catalog."
"You noticed that, did you?" Yurio smirked, "I like that one, though, Mama."
"That's all well and good," I agreed, "But keep your mitts off Victor's and my routines. Get your own."
"I think I did pretty well," he shrugged, "Can we keep going?"
"I think you've done more than enough for today," I cut him off, "How about we go grab some breakfast?"
"Ok," Yurio kicked his skates off and put his shoes back on. It's kind of nice when he doesn't put up a fight.
The two of us packed up and headed to the nearest bistro for a little breakfast. After all the physical activity the two of us have been through, a big breakfast would probably make both of us puke all over the sidewalk and, quite frankly, I don't want to deal with that today. There was a place on the corner that was very light and open for it being a cafe in Brooklyn. If I had to put a word on it, this place was very Tumblr aesthetic blog. This was where all the trendy Instagram models (including my ex-husband when our relationship was in its infancy) liked to hang out.
Yurio still had zero taste for coffee, but maybe this place could change his mind. Instead of ordering his usual hot chocolate, I brought him a decaf caramel mocha latte. It's bad enough the sugar's going to have him buzzing. He didn't need a coffee buzz on top of that. I could use another espresso, though. That was concentrated sleep in a liquid form. I brought us back a big ass blueberry muffin and our drinks and broke up him playing games on my phone.
"So," I watched as he started to slam his drink. Before he burned himself, I lowered his cup, "Easy, kid. Just because you're Dragonborn doesn't mean your throat can handle high temperatures."
"This is really good hot chocolate," Yurio awed, "What kind is this?"
"It's a latte kind," I came clean, "That's not hot chocolate, Yuri. That's coffee."
"This is coffee?" he gasped, "I take back everything bad I've ever said about it. This is amazing."
"I knew you were my son somewhere," I giggled, "Now, speaking of you. Have you given any thought to what you want your theme to be this year?"
"Not really," Yurio took a chunk of muffin and shoved it in his mouth, "Can't we do the same thing as we did last year? Just with different music? I crushed my theme last year."
"Yes, you did," I nodded, "But we're not doing that. We need to do something new to keep the judges interested. You want people to watch you. And if you're doing the same thing over and over again, they're going to lose interest. We don't want that."
"So, what do we do?" he started to get nervous. I didn't like seeing that on his face.
"What song in practice do you skate the best?" I asked him.
"The Tale of the Dragonborn."
"Let me rephrase that," I kept leading this horse to the water, "What's your go-to song when we're practicing?"
"Primadonna," Yurio hid a little smile from me.
"Let's build something around that," I suggested, "When you hear that, what do you think about?"
"Fame," he told me, "Stardom."
"There you have it," I applauded, "Congratulations, Yuri. You just picked your theme."
"Fame?" Yurio's face lit up.
"Fame," I confirmed, "It can be a monster, but you've taken down monsters before, haven't you?"
"Yes, I have!" he squeaked, "Hey, Mama…"
"What, baby?"
"Will I be famous?" Yurio wondered with innocence in his eyes.
"One day," I hoped, "Just don't let it go to your head and you'll be fine."
"It's going to be great!" he continued down his train of thought, "Everybody will always be watching to see what I do next and I'll make everyone so happy. I won't be able to go anywhere without someone knowing who I am. That sounds awesome!"
"Slow down there, turbo," I giggled, "You're starting to venture into Victor territory. That's what happens when fame gets to your head."
"You had to take the fun out of it, didn't you?" Yurio came down, pouting on his side of our booth.
"Sorry, sweetheart," I apologized, "My responsibility as your coach is to see you succeed in the skating world. My responsibility as your Mama is to make sure you don't get a big head. Now, grab your latte. We have to go see your teacher."
"You never told me about my teacher," he jumped down from the booth.
"Yes, I did," I remembered, "I told you her name was Sharmay and that she was retired, but I'm sure she'll be more than happy to take you on."
"You think so?"
"I know so."
"Hold on," Yurio stopped me, grabbing the door, "She's retired?"
"That's right."
"So, some old woman's going to be my dance teacher?" he whined, "If I wanted that, I would've stayed with Yakov."
"What did I tell you, Yuri?" I scolded, "You treat her with the utmost respect. Just because she's old doesn't mean she can't still teach you. I trust this woman with my life. Therefore, I'll trust her with you. Do you want some random person off the street to be your dance teacher or do you want someone I already know will get you to Junior Grand Prix again?"
"Sorry, Mama," Yurio put his tail between his legs.
"Thank you," I took his hand, "Come on. She's waiting for you."
The two of us left the bistro and headed to the old home away from home. As we strolled down my memory lane, I showed Yurio some old points of interest. My old apartment before I met Chris and Victor, where I used to get my nails done, where my main source of caffeine came from. I forgot how much I loved living in New York. When I left upstate to be down here, it was the first time I ever felt free to do whatever I wanted. And now, for the first time in a very long time, I felt that same freedom again.
But the one thing I had the miss/not miss relationship with about living in New York? This place. The old burlesque club. Any sensible parent wouldn't dare bring their child in such a seedy establishment. Then again, no one ever said I was ever sensible. And with my impulse control at an all time low, why not take my almost nine-year-old son in here? It's not like any of the girls have shown up for work yet. There was no show going on. Everything was pretty PG for the time being. Besides, where else am I going to find his dance teacher?
"Mama?" Yurio looked around, confused as all hell, "What are we doing here? I thought you said you'd never teach me Lady Marmalade."
"I'm not teaching you Lady Marmalade," I assured, "But this is where I told your dance teacher to meet us at. Seeing her anywhere else would just be weird."
"I don't get it."
"You will." Where is she? I thought she said she'd be here by noon.
Beep!
I took my phone out of my pocket. One new text message. Shit…I told him I'd have Yurio back by now…
Where are you?
-VN
Red Room. I know. I'm late. Might be another half hour or so.
I'm so sorry. :P
-VP
"Who's that?" Yurio wondered.
"Victor," I groaned, "I promised him I wouldn't have you out all day."
Beep!
What the hell are you doing, taking our son to the Red Room?!
-VN
I could feel him bitching at me through the phone.
Dance lessons. That whole coaching thing.
-VP
At the Red Room?
-VN
Yes…
-VP
"Violet!" a voice chimed from backstage.
"Madame!" I hugged her tight, "I'm sorry it took me so long to get back here. The move's kept us pretty busy."
"It's alright, sweetheart," she brushed me off, "I understand."
"Madame's going to be my dance teacher?" Yurio squeaked.
"Hi, Yuri!" Madame got down to his level, "That is ok with you, isn't it?"
"She was my dance teacher before Auntie Nat was," I pointed out, "Trust me, Yuri. You want a Junior Grand Prix guarantee? This is how you do it."
"And it'll be just us?" Yurio asked.
"Just you and me, baby," Madame promised, "I don't teach anymore. Except for you."
"Absolutely," he approved, throwing himself in her embrace, "She's much better than Lilia."
"Who's Lilia?" she wondered.
"His former coach's former wife," I explained, "She had a stick in her ass a mile long. Yuri don't repeat what I just said."
"I won't."
"Well," Madame sat at the edge of the center stage, "Since I'm teaching Yuri now, is there any chance I'm choreographing your programs, too, Violet? I wouldn't mind giving you both lessons."
"I'll think about it." Given that I'm making my comeback this year and given my theme, who better to give me a refresher course than the one that choreographed everything I've done before?
"Yay!" she chirped, "We can start lessons next week. We have a new crop of dancers coming in tomorrow and I have to get them trained up."
"Good," I joined her onstage, ready to collapse.
"Vi?" Madame caught me slipping, "You ok?"
"It's taking a while for me to readjust to everything," I vented, "But I'll be ok. We should get going, Yuri. Victor's pissed I had you out so long. I think he's got plans for today for you and your brother."
"Ok, Mama," Yurio grabbed his bag and threw it over his shoulder.
"Hey, Violet," Madame stopped me in the door, "You know if you need to talk to someone…"
"I know," I nodded. Even when I wasn't working at the burlesque club, I knew Madame would always have my back no matter what. After last year's Grand Prix, that became more etched in stone.
I left Yurio on his floor and went up one more to my own. My feet were killing me and I needed a shower something fierce. This whole double duty thing was more daunting than I thought it'd be. But I could still do it. Daunting or not, I had this. Maybe after a nap. A nap sounded like a great idea. Before I go back to sleep, though, I need to do a quick assessment of the damages. I started running the shower and peeled off my leggings. There's no way this is going to be pretty.
Sure enough, black and purple splotches up and down my leg. I thought I fell a little more gracefully than this. Gross. Nothing a pair of nude tights and some miracle concealer can't fix. Besides, I'm sure they'll be gone before competition. Ice, a heating pad, and stretches. A poor man's physical therapy. I had that much. After my shower, I crawled in my nice, warm bed with Nadya and clocked out. This cat may occasionally hate me, but my god, was she a good nap buddy.
A couple hours later, I woke up, caffeinated, and went back to the rink. I'm going to get this damn double toe loop down if it kills me. I put on some music just to kill the silence. Something nice and calming. I couldn't have constant loud and angry. Not right now anyway. A soft piano felt like a good idea. I'm so glad it's empty in here. Then again, not many people are going to want to come ice skating in the middle of February.
Alright, Violet. You can do this. It's just a double toe loop. It's an easy trick. Don't let it trip you up like it did this morning. The only reason you didn't get it then was because you were just waking up and you had Celestino on your back. Get your speed up. A couple laps around the rink should do. And now…Execute your jump.
THUD.
"DAMMIT!" my anger echoed around the room. So glad I'm the only one in here, "ONE TRICK! ONE GODDAMN TRICK!"
I would never consider actually punching a baby, but right now, I could drive my fist through a wall. This was ridiculous. All I wanted was to land a double toe loop. One double toe loop and I'd be able to sleep soundly tonight. I thought I was perfectly focused. I wasn't angry. Nice and calm. Everything was fine. I had nothing else on my mind but this trick. Now, I've successfully debunked Celestino's theory of me being distracted. And now, I lay here, face down on the ice, not wanting to move. I deserved the future frostbite. And who knows? Maybe it'll help the bruising on my leg.
"I thought I'd find you in here," a thick, Russian accent filled the air, only making me feel worse.
"Hi, Victor," I mumbled into the rink, "What do you want?"
"You seem to be having a little trouble," he walked out to me, trying to help me back on my feet.
"I appreciate the assistance," I stayed down, "But this is where I belong."
"Oh, don't give me that," Victor had more arm strength than I gave him credit for. Or I was just that light, "Underrotate."
"What?" I looked at him like he was on drugs.
"When you go to do your jump," he suggested, "Underrotate. See if that helps. Try it again."
"Since when are you my coach?" I regained my footing and skated toward the barricade.
"I used to do this, too, Violet," Victor reminded me, "And I have a whole year of coaching experience under my belt."
"So do I," I did a few lazy spins, "You think I bit off more than I could chew here?"
"I think that all you need to do is land this double toe loop," he figured, "And then, you can go back to your proper training."
Underrotate, huh? I did a few laps around the rink again to make sure I had enough speed. I could do this. If I underrotate, I'll be able to land this. And when I was skating by myself in the old days and Victor was there, he worked like some sort of good luck charm. Alright, Violet. Center yourself. And…Execution…
PERFECT LANDING! I hated when Victor was right sometimes, but PERFECT LANDING! I could hardly hold myself together, "HELL YEAH! IT'S ABOUT DAMN TIME!"
"See?" Victor hugged me tight, sharing in my excitement, "I told you! Underrotate."
"Thank you," I nearly burst into tears, "I suppose I should apologize to Celestino now."
"Tomorrow," he corrected, "It'll give you both a chance to cool off. Are you ok, Violet?"
"That's the fourth time today someone's asked me that!" I got defensive, "What is with people? I'm fine. Why?"
Victor had a look on his face. I could see it in his eyes. He didn't believe me, "Tell you what. Any plans you may have tonight, cancel them. You and I have a date."
"We do?" I wondered, "I mean, I'm free tonight anyway, but what do you mean, we have a date? Didn't you just get married again?"
"We have a date tonight," he reiterated, "I want you to come down to our condo around eight."
"Ok," I wasn't going to turn him down. And it's Victor. I've known him for a very long time. Hell, we were married once! What's the worst that could happen?
A/N: Plenty could happen. You could both be eaten by bears. Could get stabbed in a subway station. Accidentally join a cult. I could see that happening to Victor. He's too sweet to turn people down outright. But I'm so happy he helped Violet get that double toe loop down. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go lay down for a bit. Maybe take my dog outside for the last time tonight. I mean, she's sleeping like a rock right now, but once she wakes up, I'll take her to potty. Anyway, see you next chapter! xx