A/N: Hello, lovelies. Hey, I got something to talk to you about later. If you read me every day of the week, then you know already, but for those who don't, we'll talk at the end like we always do. Also, there's a lot of introspection in this chapter. Just a side note. Thought I'd share. Ok. Let's get to it.
Oh, the streets of Rome. It's been so long since I've seen you. I'd like to preemptively apologize if I end up puking on you tonight. Celestino was totally cool with watching Yuri and Yurio. What he failed to remember was how Chris, Victor, and I were when we were left unattended in Rome. I know I was trying to distance myself from Victor as much as I could, but what the hell? I can allow myself one night of fun. Just my boys and me. It's been a while since the three of us have gone out like this. We could all stand the us time.
We had gone back to the hotel to get ready once Mama Cialdini was ok with us leaving. If she had her way, it'd be never, but she understood. But still, I needed to get ready. If I'm going out with my boys tonight, I needed to look the part. In all honesty, I kind of wanted to wear the dress I got at that thrift store in Moscow, but I got that as a costume. I'd be devastated if something happened to it before competition. Instead, I pulled out a classy black dress that held me in all the right places and made myself all cute. Although, my eyes were missing something. And I knew just where to get that missing piece.
Knock, knock.
"Hi, Violet," Victor glanced me over, "Wow. You look nice tonight."
"Thanks," I bit the inside of my cheek, "Actually, I need to have a word with your husband."
"My husband?" he gave me a look.
"Me?" Chris stuck his head out the bathroom door, "What do you need, Violet?"
"Do you remember when you took me to Cosmos the first time?" I asked, keeping a tight lip, "You told me one of your best kept secrets and said you'd kill me if I told anyone?"
"What's she talking about?" Victor's ears perked up. It was cute. Makkachin's did the same thing whenever someone mentioned bacon, "What secret?"
"It's nothing," Chris dragged me into the bathroom by my wrist, shutting the door tight behind me, "What about it?"
"I ran out of lash glue," I kept my voice down, "I was wondering if I could borrow yours."
"Of course," Chris got a little bottle out of his bag, "Give me your lashes. I'll put them on for you, too."
"Thank you," I gave him my lash case and shut my eyes, "Are you ever going to tell Victor about this?"
"The secret of my eyelashes is going to my grave," he pushed the strip onto my eye, "I love Victor. Don't get me wrong. But these bitches are how I hook the hot pieces of ass that I do. It'd be like finding out your favorite stripper stuffs his G-string. It'd just be disappointing."
"I just happened to peek behind the curtain," I giggled, "I won't tell about your roll of socks if you won't."
"Deal," Chris nodded, then realized what I just said, "Hey! I don't have that problem!"
"I know," I rolled my eyes, "Trust me, Christophe. I've seen you naked more than once. You act like I wouldn't."
"True."
I took a good look in the mirror. A full set of lashes. A thick line of eyeliner with wings sharp enough to kill a man. Dark, vampy, red lips. Hot damn, I looked like an escort! Not like the kind I used to be. The high-scale ones. If I didn't get my ass grabbed by a good-looking Italian man tonight, I'll be shocked. And a little disappointed. Nevertheless, that's not what I was going out for tonight. Tonight, I just wanted to hang out with my two best friends before we end up thrown into finals.
And that's exactly what we did. Our first club wrapped me in a hug of pounding bass that could send me over the edge if I'm not careful. Either way, tonight is going to be my last with them. Like this anyway. I'll still be around to get the boys for practice and general quality time and shit like that. Just not with their dad and their uncle anymore.
"Violet!" Victor yelled over the music, "Come get a drink with me!"
Like I was going to turn that down. A little bit of a buzz might make breaking up with him easier. At least I hope so. When we walked over to the bar, I had forgotten what it was like to hold Victor's hand. So strong and warm, but so soft and gentle. He's making a hell of a case for himself and doesn't even know it. And I hated it. Stop making this so hard for me, Victor.
"What can I get for you, tesoro?" the bartender winked at me, noticing the wedding ring on Victor's hand, but none on mine. Not on my left hand anyway. Our wedding ring was on the right one.
"A lemon drop," I ordered, "Make it strong."
"Si, signorina." I might walk out with his number tonight. Sorry, William from London. I mean, one in every port, but I'm no sailor, "And what about you?"
"Vodka martini please," Victor ordered, "Grazie."
The bartender put our glasses in front of us and I damn near downed mine in one drink. By the look on his face, he was impressed, "Did you taste that?"
"No," I shook my head, "Hit me again."
"On the house, principessa," he insisted, giving me another drink, "Be careful. I did make those strong."
"Grazie."
"Violet," Victor pulled me closer, wrapping his arm around my waist. If I was drunker, my head would be nestled in his shoulder, but I still had my inhibitions intact, "Please be careful. Don't drink too much tonight. We still have competition tomorrow."
And being the ever-worrying mother isn't helping things either. It's only making me want to drink more to numb whatever feelings I have left from our marriage, "I won't. I know we have competition tomorrow, but I have no intentions of getting wasted tonight."
"Good." Although, I may give it serious consideration.
"Hey!" Chris joined us at the bar, "Would you two quit hiding and come dance?"
We didn't have an option. I know Chris made it sound like we did, but his grip on us told a different story. I didn't care. I needed to be high on the flashing lights in the dance floor. And did they pull me into the most beautiful trance. I haven't felt this good in a long time. Chris and Victor were in their own little world and so was I. After more drinks, I really started to come out of my shell. I've been a professional dancer for years. I'm sure I can bring some of that to Italian soil. As if they've never seen me before.
Then, I fell into the arms of a man. A very beautiful man, I'm guessing (It's dark in this club. The occasional flashes of light didn't last long.). One that couldn't help but put his lips on me. I closed my eyes, getting completely lost in it. His kiss felt like a warm cup of tea on a cold morning. In fact, I could practically pinpoint that morning. It's definitely January. I'm sitting on the balcony of the old penthouse in St. Petersburg on an unseasonably warm morning and Victor's just coming back from competition. The long time apart would always bring us closer together as soon as he got home. And I wanted more of this kiss. Then, a realization struck.
I've felt this kiss before.
During that exact scenario.
When I opened my eyes, I stared up at the lips that were just on mine. Oh, shit...This isn't good. Shortly after he realized what had just happened, he bolted. Well, what the hell, Victor? You act like we had never done that before. We have. But he wasn't married to someone else when we did it. He was married to me. And I missed those days. To some extent, I understood why he took off, but I needed to get out of here before I broke down. I started to make a beeline for the front door.
"Violet...?" Shit. Just who I didn't want stopping me. Christophe grabbed me before I could get out the door, "What's the matter, mon ami? You seem off."
"I appreciate the thought, Chris," I swallowed the swelling lump in my throat, "But I just need to get out of here."
Because there is no nice way of saying I just had a magical kiss with your husband that, going by said kiss, still may be in love with me. I couldn't be in there anymore. And as much as the long walk back to the hotel would probably do me some good, my feet were killing me and my knees felt like they were about to give out on me. Images of that kiss burned in my mind like a branding iron and they wouldn't go away.
Why did the universe torture me so? Who did I kill in a past life? What kind of karmic retribution bullshit is this for? So, I had that tryst with Mike. I never involved the boys and Victor just happened to meet him. It's not like I went out of my way to introduce the two. Chris got a pass. He was there when I met Mike in the first place. Not to mention, they already knew each other. Biblically. Was that it? Was it me getting sloppy seconds from Chris twice? Was that why karma was bending me over?
Regardless, I got a cab and threw myself in the backseat. I just wanted to go to bed. I'm drunk, depressed, and torn in a million different directions. After competition tomorrow, I'm going to skip the awards banquet and go straight home. I couldn't stick around for fun and frivolity. Not without wanting to drown myself in the bottom of a bottle. The question was, which home would I run to? Would I go back to New York where Chris and Victor were just a floor under me? Would I go back to St. Petersburg where all I could ever see was him?
"I do my makeup in somebody else's car..." the radio played.
Someone's hotel room, technically. But go off.
"We order different drinks at the same bar..."
Yeah. Not much different, but I got it.
"I know about what you did and I want to scream the truth..."
A little on the nose, sister.
"She thinks you love the beach, you're such a damn liar..."
If by the beach, you mean Chris, then you might be right.
"Those great whites, they have big teeth. Hope they bite you. That you said that you would always be in love. But you're not in love no more."
Victor's got his kinky side. I've seen him with bitemarks on his collarbone before. But maybe he's not in love anymore...
"Did it frighten you how we kissed when we danced on the light up floor?"
WHAT SONG IS THIS? I sat in the back of my cab and listened carefully. Every word hit me in a different place and it hit me hard. For the first time all night, I finally let myself have that inevitable breakdown. This may have been a bad idea from the beginning, but the night may be turning around in a way I never would've expected. As much as the song felt like a dagger to my heart, it healed me all the same. Screw Jet Lag. I'm waiting for it. That Green Light. I want it.
A/N: It's Green Light by Lorde for those of you curious. I saw it once in a YOI CMV and sort of became obsessed with it. Not only is it a catchy little jam, it's very fitting for this situation. In fact, it may entirely be based on this song. Just wait until we see the retaliation. Because I got that planned already, too. :3
Now, for the thing I wanted to tell you about. If you were around for Not a Perfect Fairytale, then you know what time of year it is again. November is rapidly approaching and for the entire month of November, I go dark here for NaNoWriMo season! What that means is I take the month off to write a 50,000-word novel. This year's going to be kind of a horror with a hint of dark romance. It'll be up on FictionPress when I'm done for those of you wanting to read it. When we come back in December, I'll give you a more proper synopsis on it. It already has a title. It's called Private Parts. If that's tantalizing enough for you. I'll give you a link when it's all done if you so desire. Now, I have tomorrow's chapter to finish outlining and probably get done today. Because I'm that level of wired right now where I could take on the world. We'll be back on December 5th. Wish me luck! See you next chapter! xx