A/N: I'm so sorry this is up so late. It's been a long day for me. Also, welcome to day five…

I may hate flying, but I could handle jetlag like a champ. My poor internal clock could never adjust to one time zone for very long. Which means, when Violet makes a flight from JFK to Heathrow, riding the high of vodka and Xanax, she can pick up at any time and go about her day. But I'd have to let the Xanax wear off first. I will say this, though. Xanax naps were a delight. Dreams in bright colors and everything made me feel warm. Yummy...

When I woke up from my drugged-out state of bliss, I noted that I was in my room completely by myself. Awesome. Because it's almost ten o'clock local time. I didn't have anything going on professionally until later today. Competition didn't start until three. Although, I did make an appointment while we were waiting for our flight to board. I'm sure everyone is still sleeping. Perfect. I'm in the clear.

I got out of bed and slipped out of my room. I wonder how many other skaters are here already. There's no way we were the first ones here. That never happened. In our tenure together, Victor and I were never the first ones. We always made an entrance. At one time, we really were considered royalty. The two of us were untouchable. I missed those days...

"I swear to God," a familiar voice stopped me dead in my tracks...and maybe sent chills up my spine, "It's like you're nineteen again, Violet. What did I tell you?"

Oh, shit. It looks like I've been caught, "Hey, Coach..."

"Where do you think you're sneaking off to?" Celestino wondered, following me to the elevator. He really wasn't joking when he said he'd be on my ass as much as possible.

"I have an appointment to get to," I hit the down button, "Since my hair's almost completely faded and it's damn near the same color as Victor's, I thought I'd get it done before competition started. Normally, it'd be my coach suggesting such things, but it seems I had to take matters into my own hands."

"Alright, alright," he hushed me, "Nobody likes the sass. Go ahead. Just...Be careful. And no purple again. It'll clash too much with your costumes."

"Fine." Aww...That sucks. I had all intentions of it going back to a bright shade of purple. I guess I could still do that. Celestino would hand my ass to me, but now wasn't the time to push his buttons. Maybe I should do something a little drastic.

When I got to the salon, I had something in mind. If I was going to be a personification of lust, I needed to ooze sex. In my own, special way, I was killing the idea of who I used to be as a skater. Pure, innocent, Victor's partner. What would be more appropriate than a color typically associated with a funeral?

I always thought it'd be a cute color on me. A girl could never go wrong with black. Celestino told me not to go purple, so I didn't. I should probably get to practice and start hyping up the crowd. This was some prime judge teasing time. And a little extra practice wouldn't kill me. Now that I'm kind of unrecognizable, I wonder how far I could go with a new identity. It's always fun to screw with people. I walked into the rink with my mint skates over my shoulder. There he is.

"Excuse me," I put on a heavy English accent. Usually, Russian is my go-to, but when in Rome. Or in this case, London, "I'm looking for an attractive Italian man with loose morals and an appreciation for a good red wine."

"Well," the man fitting my description turned on his Italian charms, "It's a pleasure to meet you, my dear. Celestino Cialdini. I'm one of the coaches around here. My, my. They do grow them beautiful around here."

"It's nice to meet you, too, Mr. Cialdini." That felt weird coming out of my mouth.

"If you don't mind me saying so," Celestino flirted, bringing my hand to his lips, "You have very pretty skin. You take good care of it."

"I don't," I blushed, "My ex-husband does. He's kind of a pain in my ass about that sort of thing."

"Aww," he pulled me a little closer, "What happened? Things just didn't work?"

"He's gay," I pointed out, "He got remarried in January."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Celestino looked me over a bit closer, still not making the connection. Come on, Coach. It's a good thing you're pretty, "How rude of me. I don't think I caught your name, principessa. Is it as beautiful as you are?"

"Oh, stop," I gave him a little swat to the chest, "It's Violet. Plisetsky. Your skater, Celestino. You sinner."

"That wasn't nice, Violet," Celestino came to his senses, "Here I thought I was going to meet a nice English woman to bring home to Mama, only to find out it's you."

"Ouch," I clutched my chest, dropping the accent, "That's cold, Celestino. Imagine what Mama would say about that. I'm sure she'll be thrilled to see me again when we're in Rome."

"I have no doubt," he agreed, playing with the result of my appointment, "This isn't a bad color on you, Violet."

"Thanks, Coach," I did a little spin. I felt so much better. It's amazing what a quick dye job will do.

"So?" Celestino asked, "What are we doing for your first international competition back?"

"As much as I'd love to do Lady Marmalade," I thought it over, "I kind of want to do S&M. But I can't do S&M. The boys are watching. They don't have any competitions until tomorrow."

"In that case," he suggested, "What about doing something you did the other day off the top of your head?"

My heart stopped, "Are you saying I do Cell Block?"

"I don't see why not," Celestino allowed, "That would mean getting you pissed off again. What had you so upset the other day?"

"I don't want to talk about it." And I'm back in that mindset.

"Fine by me," he let it go, "Don't skate too well in practice. Be sure to pace yourself. You don't want to peak here."

"I know," I rolled my eyes, "I've done this a time or two before. I think I know what I'm doing. I skate like shit in practice, so no one has high hopes for me. Then, I get on the ice during the performance, kick ass, take names, and go out for ice cream after I get my medal."

"That's my girl," Celestino kissed my forehead, "Make me proud, bambina."

"When don't I?"

"When you're stumbling out of night clubs and showing up to practice hungover."

"Below the belt, Celestino. Below the belt."

My coach's subtle drag aside, I put my skates on and started lazily gliding around the rink with my headphones in. Once in a while, I'd glance over at Celestino. People were slowly trickling his way, asking who his new skater was. Nothing new about me. Celestino and I have been working together for years. We were pretty close. Even after I went off the grid for a while, I'd still call Celestino every now and then, just to say hi. Or ask him how to coach my son.

But his response would always be the same. That's Violet Plisetsky. She's the best skater I've ever had the privilege of working with. She's made great strides this past year to get back to where she was the last time she stepped on the ice. When, in all honesty, I still skated while I was living in Russia. Only when the rink was empty and it was two o'clock in the morning and I couldn't sleep. So, around once or twice a week. I couldn't give this up forever. There's no way.

Then, it came down to it. It was time for me to put my hooker boot skates on and my Lady Marmalade costume unfurled. I was going to have to pick one of the six merry murderesses of the Cook County jail to portray. And honestly, I think that one goes without saying. It wouldn't exactly be difficult for me to choose. I had to go with Velma Kelly.

Once my name was called (I had the last slot. Pray for me.), I skated out to the middle of the rink. Not much of a response. Things seemed scarily quiet. Did they just not care about me anymore? I don't think so. I thought I had caused enough buzz in the off season for them to at least throw me a little bit of a bone. Come on, crowd. Warm up a little. I'm not the hot mess I once was. I've gotten better. Nevertheless, I had a routine to skate. Some may ask why I'd decide to go with Velma Kelly. Of all the killings I could've picked, I pick her. Well, I thought it'd go without saying, but as a breakdown...

My best friend Victor and I once had this double act. And his future husband Christophe traveled around with us. In one of our old routines, we'd do a million tricks in a row. Really pulling out all the stops. Splits, spins, axels, lutz, loops. And we'd do them one right after the other. So, one night, I was coming home. And some reporter asked me what I thought about Victor's comeback. Comeback? No. Not my Victor. He's not making a comeback.

I go down to his rink of operations. And when I do, I open the door. And there's Yuri and Victor doing one of our old routines. Sinatra! Well...I was in such a state of shock. I almost blacked out. But when I was standing there, I could have taken the guards off my blades and slit his throat right then and there. And it wasn't until later when I was sitting in my hot tub that I thought my career would be dead...

AND HE'D HAVE IT COMING!

I fell to the ice after a good, fast corkscrew spin, ready to punch someone. Settle down, Violet. Don't let the crowd see you sweat. Honestly, it'd be nice to hear something from them. Anything...But then, out of absolute nowhere, the crowd went apeshit, damn near shaking the rink to its foundation. Damn, that felt good! Looks like I'm not dead yet. My shower of flowers was totally deserved. The only suck part is that I may have dug myself into a hole. Since I crushed so hard here, they're going to expect me to do something like that every time for the next three competitions. I didn't care. I could handle it. For now, I was going to suck up every last ounce of love these people had to give me. Now, Mr. Announcer Man, what's my final score?

89.88. Respectable. Even better, I don't remember hearing one higher than that. And this is right out of the gate? Hell yeah! You're kicking ass this season, Violet. And you know it.

"Violet!" Victor stood on the other side of the barricade, throwing his arms around me. To no surprise, a camera managed to capture the moment, "You did so good! I'm so proud of you!"

"Thanks, Victor," I wiggled my way out of his embrace. I felt like I was still coming out of the Xanax induced haze. As much as I loved him, I didn't need to be lumped in with Victor right now. Not when my season's just starting. Didn't he have a competition to skate, too?

My feet were throbbing, my hips wanted to fall off, and I needed the hot tub in my hotel room. It's times like these where I missed skating in Japan. At least there I could have a hot spring to myself. That sounded nice right now. But I couldn't do that quite yet. Because I had to wait to hear my name called out for the last time today. Aside from the media storm that'd be waiting for me outside the rink.

"In first place," the announcer barked, snapping me out of my headspace, "With a score of 89.88, Violet Plisetsky!"

HELL YEAH! That's me! I don't know why I should be surprised. I worked my ass off this past year, falling into some places I shouldn't, but I crawled my way out again, didn't I? I bowed my head as the commissioner put my medal around my neck. Don't start crying, Violet. Don't you dare start crying on me. We can hold ourselves together. Cry in the hotel room. Keep it together on the podium.

When I went back to my hotel room, all I wanted was the bathtub, some takeout, and a glass of wine. Although, I couldn't have that last one. Celestino took my minibar key. Dick. Oh well. I can live without that for the night. I'll just grab a bottle tomorrow. Instead, I took a bottle of water from the fridge and kicked my feet up on the bed. I forgot how good gold tasted. It tastes like satisfaction.

Knock, knock.

Don't be press. That's all I ask. Please don't be press. Unless it's Doyle Wallace. I may not be the guy's best friend, but he was alright. In small doses. And I did promise him an interview. Not Doyle Wallace, "Hi, Victor."

"Hey," Victor threw his arms around me, "Congratulations, winner. We're about to go out and celebrate. Care to join us?"

"No, thanks," I shook my head, "I appreciate the invite, but I think I'm going to call it a night."

"Suit yourself," he kissed my forehead, "Are you sure you don't want to come out?"

"I'm sure."

"Alright," Victor gave me a look. He knew my desire to go out was like a dog with food. So, why isn't this bitch eating? "You're still going to watch the boys skate in the morning, right?"

"Of course," I smiled, "I wouldn't miss that for the world."

"I won't have them out all night," he promised, "Go back to your bathtub."

"My pleasure," I waved him off and did exactly as he told me to. I did want to go out, but like I said, I need to distance myself from Victor for a while. Just for the season. I shut my eyes for a minute and sunk into the water. Life was good. This is exactly how a gold medalist should feel after a good performance.

Knock, knock.

What the hell? I looked over at the clock. It's almost eleven. Who would be at my door at this time of night? I checked the peephole, just in case it was some weirdo. Luckily, no weirdos, "Yurio? What are you doing here? It's late, baby."

"I couldn't sleep," Yurio came in, "Can I stay here with you?"

"Of course, sweetheart," I would never turn him away, "Come on. Let's go to bed. Does Victor and Uncle Chris know you're here?"

"They're sleeping." Ugh…I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and shot Victor a text. The last thing he needed was to wake up and find Yurio missing.

"Hold on," I thought, "Yuri, are you jetlagged?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, "Probably."

I shouldn't be surprised. I dug in my bag and threw on a pair of sweatpants, "Come on."

"Where are we going?" Yurio gave me a look.

"I'm jetlagged, too," I threw my bag around my shoulder, "There's got to be somewhere around here that's open. Let's go play."

A/N: Poor Yurio. It sucks not being able to sleep. I can't imagine what it must be like for him and Yuri. Well, friends. It's going to be a while before we get another chapter. Right now, I'm just glad I got this one done. And that Violet's taking home at least one gold medal. What can I say? I'm proud of her. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm exhausted and I think I'm going to go to bed. Good night. See you next chapter. xx