A/N: If you're reading this, I'm curled up in a nook cut out of the tallest oak tree. My leaf blanket over me, my steaming cup of tea, and my thick book in my lap, perfectly content with the world like the little creature of the forest that I am. Ironic, isn't it? The paper from my book, the leaves in my teabag, my cozy little house. And it all came from this big, beautiful tree. It's a strange circle of life, isn't it?
Let's try this again, shall we? If you're reading this, I'm currently in Michigan until this coming Sunday (I think? Don't quote me.). Again, if you see me out in the wild, you are MORE THAN WELCOME to come see me. Don't be shy. If my phone is up and running by now, keep an eye on the Instagram and the Twitter. I'll keep you updated as much as I possibly can. Now, I'll let you read, ok?
Oh, I felt icky. I mean, I woke up in Victor's bed for the first time in months, so I couldn't complain there, but I felt like absolute shit. It wasn't quite a hangover. It wasn't quite exhaustion. Oh, shit. I'm not getting sick. Love of God, don't tell me I'm getting sick. Maybe it'll pass after I get food in my stomach and have a shower that's too hot for the average human being. God, I hope so. I knew I had practice this morning, but every fiber of my being was telling me to blow it off. If I did that, though, Celestino would get pissed at me and I'm in no mood to deal with anyone's bitchy attitude today.
"She's what?!" Yurio screeched from the kitchen. The sound of his feet slapping against the hardwood at the speed of light echoed through the hall. And before I could even process it, he jumped into the bed with me, "Mama!"
"Hi, baby," I wrapped my arms around him, "Easy, Yuri. I'm just waking up."
"Sorry," he nuzzled his head in ribs, "What are you doing here?"
"I had a long night last night," I kept things cryptic, but I didn't want to flat out lie to him, "So Victor and Uncle Chris let me crash here last night."
"Are you ok?" Yurio worried, always the perceptive one, "You're not sick or anything, are you?"
"I'm fine," I promised, hugging my baby tight, "Go get ready for practice, ok?"
"Ok," he wasn't moving. I don't think he wanted to. And honestly, I couldn't blame him. I didn't want to get up either. But if I skipped practice, Madame would have my ass. Celestino would have no room to speak. He knows what's going on. Madame on the other hand? She'd end me.
"Hey, Yuri," I wondered, "Is Celestino still here?"
"What do you mean, still?" Good. The boys had no clue about what was going on. Good to know.
"Is Celestino here?" I rephrased my question.
"Yeah," Yurio nodded, "He was when I woke up."
Great. As long as it doesn't turn into another lecture, I'll be thrilled. I don't want to deal with Celestino pissed off. I pulled myself out of Chris and Victor's bed and made my way into the kitchen. My boys were sitting around the kitchen table, right down to my bodyguard. How the hell did Gene know to come here and not my place? Victor. Had to be. Victor and Gene were buddies. Relatively. It was rather endearing.
"Good morning, dorogoy," Victor greeted me, a big ass white cup in his hand. And it's still hot, "This is for you. One flat white, three shots of espresso."
"Victor Nikiforov, I love you," I thanked him, "Were you unwed and we weren't in mixed company, I would take you right here on the kitchen table."
"Where would you go?" Yuri wrapped himself around my waist, "You just got here, Mama. And don't take Daddy away, too."
"Oh, Yuri," I hugged him tight, "Bless you, child."
"Get your own husband," Chris defended, all in good fun, of course.
"I would," I retaliated, "But someone already took mine. And it's so hard to meet good people these days."
"Alright, ladies," Victor broke us up, "Both of you, settle down."
"Victor," I gave him a look, "How many years have we been at this?"
"You make a valid point," he let it go, "Just no battle royale in my kitchen, please."
"We won't," Chris kissed his cheek.
"What time is it?" I wondered, trying to see over on the stove.
"Almost nine o'clock."
"Shit!" I threw my shoes on and my bag over my shoulder, "I have to get to the Red Room."
"Violet," Celestino stepped in, "If you want, you can skip practice for today."
"No can do, Coach," I shot him down. I had no doubt in my mind that Victor and Chris told him about last night. He knew what was going on. And if Celestino was good for one thing in this world, it was taking care of me, "The best thing for me right now is to throw myself into work as hard as I can. It's the best kind of therapy I got."
"Alright," he understood, "Send the Madame my love."
"Will do," I promised, "Gene? You coming?"
"That's what I'm paid for, hon," Gene got up from the table and got the door for me. As we got into the elevator, I completely spaced the fact that I had the sweet, dark nectar of the gods in my hand. Hello, my love. I promise you I will never leave you for another man again. I don't care what kind of hold he has on me. With a content moan, the back of my throat burned. Worth it. And it gave Gene a cheap laugh, "Do you two need a minute, Vi?"
"It's been so long since I've had real coffee," I sighed out, "None of that decaf bullshit Mike forced down my throat."
"Are you going to be ok?" Gene put an arm around me.
"Eventually, yeah," I rubbed my eyes, getting the icky feeling back again. So much for my good feeling coming back. I guess there are some things that even good coffee can't solve. I hated that this had such a grip on me and even more that I couldn't shake it. He was just a drunk text, Violet. A little mistake. I'm sure that enough physical exertion will help clear your head.
When we got to the Red Room, it was business as usual. The tables were moved out of the way. Madame sat at the edge of the stage waiting for me. It's like last night never happened. The only suck part is that it did happen and it's not rolling off me like I hoped it would. I wasn't sure what I needed more; a hug, a drink, or more coffee.
"Good morning, baby," Madame called out, going through her phone.
"Morning, Madame," I dropped my bag on one of the tables, lacking any vigor or enthusiasm in my voice.
"Violet...?" she looked up, "Come here, sweetheart. What's the matter?"
Madame always had a sixth sense when it came to me. There was no hiding anything from her. It's physically impossible. Many have tried. All have failed. Whether it was my emotional state or my hangovers, she could smell trouble from a mile away. I joined her on the stage and laid my head on her shoulder, "I got man troubles. Apparently, I have too many in my life."
"Amen, sister," Madame chuckled under her breath, "It's the guy you brought in here a couple weeks ago, isn't it? The one that put a collar on you."
"I never told you he was Master," I gave her a look, "How did you know?"
"Violet," she said flatly, "Really? You don't think I can't see a master and his pet when it's right in front of me? My only question is why. I mean, don't get me wrong. He was definitely a looker, but why?"
"He was good at what he did," I swooned, "But he found out that I'd be gone for a few months without him. Even worse, that I'd be with Victor a lot."
"Oh, honey," Madame sat me on her lap. I'm not sure why, but I've learned not to question Madame's methods or her wisdom, "His fragility is not your problem. There's no sense in crying over him. If he didn't trust you to be gone with your ex-husband, who is now married to a man..."
"That Master's also had sex with..."
"WHAT?!" she gasped, "You're shitting me..."
"And just last night, too," I confirmed, "But Victor knew about that time. The first time was a surprise and long before they got together, but time number two was to get me out of there, so it was ok."
"Getting back to what I was saying," Madame shook that roller coaster out of her thoughts, "If he can't trust you after you've been nothing but loyal to him, that's something wrong with him, not you. And you don't deserve to carry that kind of burden. That's his problem, sweetheart. Not yours."
"Thanks, Madame." Damn, if she wasn't right. And always able to say what I need to hear.
"My pleasure," she hugged me tight, "Now, how about we work through some of your choreography, ok? How's that?"
"Let's do this!" The coffee's kicking in.
"That's my girl!" Madame praised, "Make me proud!"
And proud, I did. I don't think I've ever gone so hard at a dance practice ever. Even when I still lived in Russia and Natalia was teaching me. Something about Madame's pep talk lit a fire in me that I didn't realize I had anymore and I'm loving it! I was here for this. I felt amazing, I'm jacked on caffeine, and it's almost as if last night never happened! I didn't have to deal with that right now.
Beep!
"Violet," Madame scolded, "What did I say about your phone going off during practice?"
"Sorry, Madame," I dug through my bag for my phone and rolled my eyes as soon as I saw the text.
Can we meet?
-M
"What's that look all about?" she wondered, always up to hear any bit of gossip.
"It's him," I gagged.
I'm busy.
-VP
"What's he want?" Madame gave me my water bottle.
"He wants to meet up," I threw my phone down, "I told him I was busy."
Beep!
"Apparently, not busy enough."
Please? We need to talk.
-M
"Ugh...!" I growled.
I need some time.
-VP
Beep!
"Violet, put it on vibrate," Madame insisted, "You don't need that today."
I understand.
Please?
-M
"If you understood," I snapped, "You'd leave me alone!"
"I'm telling you, baby," she demanded, "Vibrate. It'll make life so much easier."
"Should I?" I wondered, "Maybe he really does want to just talk."
"Oh, Violet," Madame awed, "Didn't I teach you better? Make him grovel."
"Fine..."
Why should I?
-VP
And now we wait...
Beep!
"He's a quick one, isn't he?" she teased.
"I kept going back to him, didn't I?" I smirked, catching on to what she was trying to get at.
Because I know you.
And you're a good person.
And I asked nice.
-M
"I don't know about this, Madame..." I thought it over, "What do I do?"
"If you are going to meet him somewhere," Madame suggested, "Do it somewhere public. He seemed like a freak, but he also seemed like he had a little decorum when it came to being a freak. If you're somewhere very public, there's witnesses and he won't try anything."
"Besides," Gene chimed in, "I've got strict orders not to let you out of my sight today, Vi."
"What Celestino doesn't know won't kill him."
"They're not from Celestino..." I should've known. It wouldn't surprise me if Chris and Victor start following me around town, serving as Gene's backup. My two favorite dads strike again. My boys...I love my boys.
Central Park in ten?
-VP
Beep!
"He really doesn't waste any time," Madame jabbed, "What's this one say?"
"Well," I caught her up, "I told him to meet me at Central Park in a few minutes. Plenty of tourists. Big, open space. I can't go wrong, right?"
"Capital idea," she approved, "And? Verdict?"
Sure.
I'll be by the fountain.
-M
"He's in," I grabbed the rest of my stuff, "Madame, is it ok if I take off a little early?"
"You kicked ass today, sweetheart," Madame hugged me tight, "And I couldn't be prouder. You earned it. Go ahead. Gene, keep an eye on her."
"Yes, ma'am."
The two of us headed out to Central Park. Whether or not this was a good idea had yet to be seen. I'll be fine. If shit goes sideways, I had Gene there. Even though Mike was strong enough to throw me around and pin me down at will, Gene will not hesitate. Alright. Now, if I were a giant dick with a little man complex, where would I be? Mike did say he'd be near a fountain. And I found him. Oh, shit...He brought apology flowers.
"Hi," he greeted me civilly, giving me half a dozen white roses arranged nicely with some grape hyacinth. They're pretty, though.
"Hi," I sat next to him, dodging any other form of affection he tried giving me, "what'd you want?"
"I wanted to apologize for yesterday." I'm so damn shocked, "It's just that...Well, I haven't seen you in so long. I guess I was a bit on edge."
"Mike," I tried my hardest not to rip his throat out, "You knew exactly how I felt about the audience and you did it anyway. And you're wanting me to forgive you and blame it all on your libido? You'll have to do better than that."
"You insolent..." Mike stopped himself. He wanted to call me a bitch. I could see it in his eyes. But he did stop himself, so I had to give him a little credit, "Look, Violet. I have very strong feelings for you. And I don't want anything to come between us. I'm sure you can understand that much, can't you?"
"I understand," I stood my ground, "And when you're done making excuses, you can talk to me then. For now, I have to go."
"Wait," he reached for my hand, but there was no way in hell, "Where are you going?"
"I have practice."
"And after practice?" Mike would not let up today, would he?
"I'm having lunch with Victor."
"Of course," he scoffed, rolling his eyes.
"What's that supposed to mean?" I jumped on the defensive.
"It's always Victor!" Mike finally snapped. I knew he couldn't keep that in for long, "Choose."
"Excuse me?"
"Right now, Violet," he demanded, "It's either me or Victor. Which one will it be?"
"Victor, without question," I glared a hole through him. It's bullshit he was making me choose, but he made it an easy choice, "He's my best friend, Mike. Like it or not. He's saved my life. He gave me a home. He gave me two little boys that I love with all my heart. And I'm never going to leave that for someone that would put me in the position to pick between them."
"You teasing bitch," Mike snarled, "I should've known you really were some random bar slut."
"Chris didn't appreciate that," I pointed out, "By the way."
"What do you mean?" That got him to shut up.
"Christophe," I reiterated, "The hot, Swiss guy you were having sex with last night. He's a friend of mine. And he's also married to Victor. So, in a way, you got Victor's sloppy seconds twice."
"You're still wearing my collar, Violet," Mike blew me off, "You're still mine."
"Really?" I unhooked the back of it, dropping it to the cold, hard ground, "And now I'm not. Pozzhe, suka (Later, bitch.)."
Without another word, I walked off from Mike, his mouth hanging open like there was no brain in his head. Probably wasn't. Screw him. I didn't need that headache anymore. Somehow, I felt lighter. And just for laughs, I'm taking an iced Americano to the rink with me. And I may put an extra shot of espresso in, too, out of pure spite! No. I didn't want to have a heart attack today. I haven't had caffeine in a week. I didn't need to be that jacked.
"You feel better, Vi?" Gene asked, knowing damn well what the answer would be.
"I feel fantastic," I beamed, pushing the doors to the rink open.
Celestino was just finishing up with Yurio, "Violet, what are you doing here? I thought I gave you today off."
"And I told you I couldn't do it," I sat down on the bench, kicking my shoes off.
"You seem to be in good spirits," he gave me a look, "Are you on something?"
"I'm on life, Coach," I grinned, "I just had a weight lifted off my shoulders and I'm ready to get to work."
"If you say so," Celestino hid a smile from me. He knew what I just did. He's probably not happy that I was with Mike, but he knows exactly what kind of weight was lifted from my shoulders. He's gone. He's finally gone.
A/N: I'm so damn proud of her. Violet did all but kick Mike in the nuts. And honestly, I'd love to see her do that with her skates. HER KNIFE SHOES! And it's nice to have her home, too. She's got her boys. She's got her skating career back on track. Hopefully, this is a sign of good things to come for her. She deserves all the love in the world right now and probably could use it. I miss you guys. And I'll be back soon, ok? See you next chapter! xx