As You Were

Skate America, Las Vegas, Nevada, October 18th, 2019

The rink was full of hushed whispers, anticipation trickling across the ice as the first wave of seniors skaters began their six minute warmup.

A cacophony of languages meshed together as the crowd speculated about their country's chances of success. A Japanese flag near the front caught Yuuri's eye. Of course Minako had shown up to his first important senior event. Embarrassed, slightly proud, and a little ashamed, the boy gave a small nod of acknowledgement and continued his warm-up laps until the skaters were signaled to remove themselves from the rink in preparation for the event's commencement.

Luckily, Yuuri hadn't drawn first, but he had drawn third, meaning he would be proceeding Christoph Giocometti for the short program, and Nikiforov would be skating directly after him. Feeling queasy, he shoved a pair of tattered earbuds into his ears and fiddled with the bitten down fingernails that he habitually hid under his team Japan jersey.

Music was capable of drowning out the announcer's analysis, but it did little to calm his nerves. "Maybe", he thought, "I should have listened to my coach and skipped the coffee this morning". Yuuri was the second youngest performer there. Having turned seventeen earlier that year, he was both literally and figuratively a child in the world of senior skating and the gap he felt between himself and the other participants was immense.

A no-name dime-a-dozen figure skater from Japan had no chance of measuring up to the world's greats. The JSF must have lost their goddamn minds placing their faith in him like this. It was purely luck that had gotten the young skater this far. His short program was strong, Celestino had made sure of it, but his jumps were weak, and that was putting it generously.

The boy's short was set to the song 'Let's Go Crazy' by Prince. The step sequence was a level four, but there were only two quads, both in the first half, meaning that the eleven percent point multiplier rewarded to jumps in the second half of the skate wouldn't apply.

Many afternoon practice sessions had been spent pleading with his coach to move just one quad to the latter half, but alas, to no avail. Ciao Ciao didn't seem interested in using Yuuri's seemingly endless stamina to their advantage this season, and in all honesty, the young skater was more than a little put off by it.

'Let's Go Crazy' was an energetic piece, something Yuuri was a little unfamiliar with, preferring to stick to classical in both his short and free programs, but the change in pace was electrifying, setting his veins alight with a newfound enthusiasm.

Although the fabric was slightly itchy, his costume was generally comfortable, if not a little flamboyant for his tastes. The long, sheer, purple sleeves and glittery marbled vest hugged his slight frame making the boy appear even younger than he actually was.

It was an insult to injury considering the fact that he already felt too young to be in the midst of so many talented skaters. It suited his program well, however, and that's what mattered most.

Though time seemed irrelevant in the face of his concerns, the clock had no intention of stopping on his account. Unyielding and cruel, it continued ticking as his peers completed their programs, scores being called out one by one.

Dropping his head down and needlessly tightening his skates, god knows why, as he'd already re-laced them six times, Yuuri threw up in his mouth a little. The cheap vending machine snacks he had stress binged on the night prior churned prophetically, warning him of the danger to come.

Isn't that just the cutest thing? Yeah, real nice Katsuki… vomit on the ice too, why don't you? The crowd would love a good show. Figure skating fans ate that kind of drama up, so why not give them something to talk about before the real star of the show makes his appearance? Fuck, why did he have to perform his short directly before Viktor Nikiforov?

The teen was sandwiched between two of the most adored figure skaters of the decade, how was he supposed to wow the audience under these conditions? Chuckling to himself, bordering on hysteria, Yuuri swallowed the breath that had been caught in his throat for the last half hour. His name had been called.

It was time to put on the facade. Yuuri Katsuki was about to skate in front of his idol…and a crowd of roughly five thousand. Handing his skate guards to Ciao Ciao, the blades on his feet glided across the ice leaving clean, deep edges in their wake. Deciding to go for a quick warmup lap, the boy gently waved to the crowd and then centered himself in the Arena's center.

Quiet, suddenly everything was so silent that blood could be heard rushing through every taught, posed limb. A steady heartbeat set the rhythm, and then the music began. The tempo was uneven yet accurate, intentionally so, making Yuuri's graceful, purposeful movements apparent.

The program began with a curve LFO, then onto a Mohawk, and so forth, each step intentional and poised. A few more and the first step sequence would be complete, transitioning into three crossovers. He hadn't screwed up yet, and was far too focused to even consider the possibility.

Bracing himself, Yuuri entered into the first jump, a quad loop. Wind bit at his skin that had tinged a light pink with exertion as he flew through the air. The landing was a little rough, he nearly lost his footing, but by pushing himself into a spread eagle, as planned, he was able to save the movement and avoid deduction. All of the rotations were there, it was a success.

Letting a cocky sort of smile play across his lips, Katsuki turned into an inside edge Ina Bauer and brought his right arm down in a dramatic, showy gesture.

As the music picked up in pace, he proceeded into the next step sequence, mentally preparing himself for his combination jumps. Completing the two crossovers that marked the end of the section, Yuuri propelled himself through the entry and into the quad salchow.

In a single fluid movement, he flew into the second jump, a triple toe loop. He was off axis. Legs unable to bear the weight of the mistake, he falls, catching himself with one hand and shaking off the misstep.

A minor deduction… all of the rotations were accounted for. You win some, you lose some, as they say. The teen couldn't afford to let it rattle him out of the trance.

Next is a camel spin, something Yuuri has never had trouble with. Easy, onto the foot change. As the line "go crazy" played aloud over the reverberating surround sound speakers, he used his right hand, gesturing at his temple with a serious yet (hopefully) suave expression. Crazy, indeed, he thought.

The second to last choreography sequence was packed with difficult steps and quick turns. Nearing the end of his program, finally, Yuuri entered into his final jump, a triple axel, and transitioned into another Ina Bauer.

It was smooth sailing from there on out, just some more steps, spins, and arm movements to keep the crowd engaged. Panting, the young skater struck a pose as the music faded, arms outstretched and fists clenched.

He hadn't let the pressure get to him, and for once, he felt proud of the way he skated. Celestino was waiting for him at rinkside, bouncing in place, sporting a smile that stretched from ear to ear.

"Yuuri! Nerves my ass, you just put these geezers to shame! That's my boy, ah?"

For the most part, it was true, he had never skated that cleanly before, excluding his afternoon training sessions with Phichit and Ciao Ciao where the stakes were nonexistent.

Back to his usual reserved self, all of his on-ice confidence quickly retreating, the teen grinned sheepishly and nodded at his coach. The pair made their way to the kiss and cry to await the score announcement.

Sweat pooled on Yuuri's back as the seconds passed in quick succession. Ciao Ciao nudged his shoulders, grabbing his attention. Instead of looking at the screen, he first looked towards his coach in order to gauge how disappointed he was going to feel when he did observe the results of his efforts.

The older man's mouth hung open, eyes wide and hands frozen mid air. Was that a good thing or bad thing? Yuuri was far too nervous to interpret his coach's body language properly. Teeth chattering and fingers shaking slightly, he bit his lip and forced his eyes upward, promptly catching sight of the short program results.

Next to his name and a digitized version of the Japanese flag was a three digit number. In a slightly tacky font, black letters contrasting the white border of the screen, was the number 106.53.

Yuuri had finished his free in first place with a fifteen point gap between himself and second place, currently held by Christoph Giocommeti. There were several skaters left, including the king himself, Viktor Nikiforov, but for once in his goddamn life Yuuri was in first place.

Yuuri's PB was previously at 92.6. It was a massive stroke of luck, or maybe the gods finally smiling upon him that had allowed the boy to achieve a triple digit score for the first time in the entirety of his professional skating career.

After years of glaring at the blotchy bruises dotting his hips as a result of flubbed jumps and countless nights in Minako's ballet studio, Yuuri was finally bearing witness to the fruits of his labor. He couldn't allow himself to cry in front of this many people… though it would be ironic, considering where he and his coach were currently seated.

As they stepped away from the worn black bench and Skate America backdrop, Katsuki smiled and politely declined interviews, instead opting to find an isolated area in the far left corner of the rink to watch Viktor's performance.

As a child, Yuuri would have sold his soul for an opportunity to watch his idol skate live, and he wasn't about to let that chance slip through his fingers solely based upon the fact that they were now competing for the same title.

Nikiforov's performance was every bit as romantic and graceful as it had been when Yuuri first laid eyes on him at the age of 12. Viktor would surely be taking first out from under him, but that was fine, at least for now.

They still had the free skate, and although Yuuri couldn't pull off a quad flip, he hoped to make up for it with his clean edges and immaculate step sequences. Regardless of how deeply he adored the silver haired skater, the teen had every intention to give it his all and shoot for the gold.

Viktor took a bow, winking at the audience with a charming tilt of his head, and after a quick cooldown lap, he too was off to the kiss and cry, following behind Yakov closely. Yuuri's eyes were glued to the screen. The older skater's technical components were sure to give him a 5-8 point lead on the teen, but silver wasn't sounding too bad at present.

Yuuri would be lucky to podium at all in his first senior Grand Prix series event. He accepted the fact that he still had a long way to go, Viktor had four years on him, after all. That's why, just as the crowd let out a gasp, he too felt his limbs freeze in an unpleasant shock.

The living legend had completed his short program with a score of 102.3, putting him in second place. The surprise on the silver haired man's face was evident and Yakov's ever present scowl deepened even further, face turning a unique shade of red that was most definitely unhealthy.

The crowd seemed uneasy as well, unsure of how to react. It was rare for anyone to beat Viktor, and if a lucky soul were to achieve that feat, it would have been Christoph. The Swiss man had managed to out-skate his friend and fellow skater at several events over the last four or so years since joining the senior division.

Yuuri's heart went into overdrive as an odd mixture of embarrassment, pride, and fear flooded his peripheral, leaving him dizzy and unbalanced.

There was no way he had earned a higher score, especially considering the fact that although Viktor had popped his quad salchow, Yuuri was the one who had touched down during his program.

He would be eaten alive by the Russian press… and fans. Then again, he was prone to belittling himself. Maybe he was overthinking it as his anxiety so often urged him to do. Why would the judges score some unknown skater from the countryside of Japan higher than Nikiforov without proper cause?

Yuuri had worked hard for this sort of moment, shouldn't he accept it for what it was? It wasn't even a real victory, the free skate taking place the next day was the true deciding factor in this stage of the competition , so what's the point in tweaking over a temporary yet hard earned moment of success?

The potential podium placements remained unchanged, even after the remaining skaters took to the ice. A chilly attitude took hold of Yuuri's interactions for the remainder of the day, some skaters even blatantly sticking their nose up at him in the hotel hallways.

Was this the kind of thing that happened to winners? If so, he could get used to the total lack of social expectation. Winning…well, more like having the possibility of winning within arms reach was just a bonus.

Ciao Ciao had been understanding, knowing Yuuri's strained smiles and darting pupils meant that the boy was about twenty minutes away from going full 'cornered prey animal'. An anxious Yuuri was a handful, but a frightened, exhausted one was something the world couldn't handle. Keeping that fact in mind, Celestino gave his student grace and allowed him to skip out on the interviews and press conferences being held in the hotel commons room.

Tripping over his own lead feet, Yuuri finally arrived at room 104, his temporary safe haven. The bathroom door was shut, meaning his roommate was not only awake, but present. Apparently there are a lucky few born with an immunity to jet lag. Katsuki Yuuri was not one of them.

Flopping onto the bed like a bag of wet laundry hitting the washroom floor, the teen did everything in his power to avoid stressing about the next day, even going so far as to work on his visualization exercises. With a mind as busy as his, any sort of mental preparation was hell. Perpetually bordering on manic, Yuuri was constantly internally bombarded with a stream of worries, useless ponderings and idyllic daydreams, the likes of which he would rather not admit to. Needless to say, concentration didn't come easily to him.

On his fourth mental run through of his free program, sleep began to sink its claws into him, seductively luring him into the realm of rest. Insomnia would not win today, not after the exertion he had willingly endured in order to secure his new pb. How nice it was to finally have a moment to breathe, a few hours away from prying eyes.

"Oh no, uh-uh. Get your ass up, we are going sightseeing!"

Just like that, the moment of bliss was abruptly dissolved. Groaning like a wounded animal, rather unattractively, at that, Yuuri rolled over to face the source of his current disdain. There, in all his teenage glory, stood Phichit Chulanont, Yuuri's rinkmate and, any time but now, best friend.

Hands on his hips with a defiant air about him, the boy opened his mouth to chastise the older teen for his 'boring' attitude, but before he could utter a word Yuuri sat up, glared, crossed his arms like a toddler and cut him off.

"I would rather die than step foot out of this hotel room. Test me, I dare you."

The Thai skater smiled and did an about-face back towards the bathroom. No… things with Phichit were never this easy. Yuuri could guess what was coming next. Predictably, his rinkmate returned to the bedside, cell phone in hand.

"Phichit…" No response, just a sly grin. "Peach… put the phone down."

Instead of responding to Yuuri's pleas, the other boy simply turned his phone to face the older teen. The cracked iPhone displayed a picture from the year prior.

Yuuri had arrived in Detroit to train at sixteen, having been scouted by Celestino after a particularly hard fought success in one of his junior events. In order to actually leave Japan and reach for the stars, as they say, he had worked his ass off to graduate highschool two years early.

So what does a nervous wreck of a sixteen year old do with all of this newfound freedom? Get drunk and attempt to dye his hair, of course! When Phichit had stumbled upon a sobbing Yuuri at 8pm on a Wednesday night, he had been shocked.

The Thai skater was used to being the one who made questionable choices. What made the situation even funnier was the fact that Katsuki's hair was an ugly swamp green, not the platinum blonde he was originally shooting for.

In exchange for his friend's compassion and comfort on that horrible night, Yuuri drunkenly promised to never abandon him, as a thanks for Phichit's willingness to be there for him in his time of dire need. The picture served as a contract of sorts, proof of the promise the pair had made.

It portrayed a sobbing Yuuri with snot and tears painting his face, green hair matted to the side of his head, stray pieces of it sticking to the dried tears on his cheeks.

Yuuri scanned Phichit's face, trying desperately to convey his internal turmoil without rambling aloud. The two had an almost telepathic understanding of each other.

In Japan, Yuuri found it hard to connect with his peers. They either revered him for his accomplishments, so much so that they avoided approaching him unprompted, or thought him to be stuck up, mistaking his shy demeanor for self righteousness.

Phichit held neither of those beliefs. The first day that they met, the Thai skater had dragged him into their shared dorm by the arm, introduced him to all seven of his hamsters and took an impromptu selfie as they shared their first meal.

It was a friendship where Yuuri knew he could speak his mind, but often didn't feel the need to as they shared an understanding beyond words. Phichit gave a softer smile and set himself next to Yuuri.

"You know that holing yourself up in this room won't do you any good, right? You're gonna give yourself a panic attack if you keep geeking about the free skate tomorrow."

Yuuri knew he was right, of course. Wise beyond his years, Phichit had a special sort of zen about him at times. It would be so much easier to just sleep, eat, and cry in the bathtub… but maybe a tour of the town would put him in a better headspace.

After making a show of sighing and rolling his eyes, Yuuri grabbed his copy of the room's keycard and slipped his denim wallet into the pocket of his jacket. Peach did a little victory dance before he opened the door for the both of them, allowing the Japanese skater to exit first and following him closely, letting the door fall shut with a soft click.

The outdated mustard-stain yellow carpet and red walls made the walkway feel sort of eerie as they made their way down the corridor towards the elevator.

Several coaches and skaters were waiting for the lift when they arrived. After packing into the small space, Yuuri chose to abate the awkwardness by checking his phone.

He hadn't had the chance to since earlier this morning, so the 'Ice Castle' group chat had probably been flooded with tons of texts.

Ice Castle Hasetsu (2.0)

アイスマドナ: ユーり!がんば!まだきんちょうして いますか?

ユーリじゃない: めっちゃ怖いけど楽しみ🥹

Jackass: 頑張れ

ミナコ: 諦めないユーリ!

Jackass: うそ?マジ?ほんとうにユーりですか?

アイスマドナ: 豪…親切にしましょう😭

ミナコ: 106.53?! 良く頑張った🫶!ユーリは最高の学生です

アイスマドナ: ええええ!おめでとう!

ユーリじゃない: ありがとうみんな<33< p>

A loud ring resounded signaling the impending unboarding. Tucking his phone back into the side pocket of his leggings, Yuuri stepped out of the elevator first, feeling claustrophobic.

Phichit took the lead, guiding his friend through the hallway and into the hotel's lobby. A large crowd had formed near the automatic sliding glass doors.

Wonderful, because who doesn't want to be inconvenienced by a bunch of info hungry reporters? They'd never bothered Yuuri before, but considering the fact that he was sitting in first place… well, it wasn't entirely off the table.

As the two teens squeezed through the crowd, narrowly avoiding knocking a pair of porcelain vases off their respective side tables, Yuuri felt a pair of hands grab his shoulders a little too comfortably for his liking.

"Could it be? Is it him? Bonsoir, Mon Cher!"

Swinging around, nearly falling in the process, green eyes met with his own. Did Christoph Giocommeti seriously recognize Yuuri? Why on god's green Earth was someone or his renown interested in him? Was he scouting out the competition?

Catching onto his rink mate's hesitance, Phichit stepped forward, placing an arm out in front of Yuuri protectively. Chris blinked for a moment then broke out into a smile, endeared by the pair.

"Oh, you have a bodyguard huh? Don't mind me, dear, I just wanted to meet the boy who broke a hundred at his first senior competition! I'm Christoph Giocommetti."

As if he didn't know that? Though his focus was generally streamlined on Viktor's career, Yuuri kept track of who was winning and who wasn't, and just to be clear, Chris consistently placed silver in events with Viktor, and gold in events he was absent from.

His idol's best friend and biggest competitor was sizing him up, and for what? Unsure of how to respond yet aware of the fact that it would be strange to ignore the Swiss skater, Yuuri gave a small bow and then shook the man's outstretched hand gently.

"I'm Yuuri, wonderful to meet you."

Remembering the tiny Yuri who had recently joined the junior division, he tacked on a hushed "Yuuri Katsuki."

Chris's shoulders relaxed a bit at the lack of hostility exhibited by the younger skater. Many of the newbies who get a chance to taste success had an arrogant air about them, hungry for more and willing to do anything for another hit of post-victory adrenaline.

It took all of thirty six seconds for Chris to verbally approve of Yuuri and his mini bodyguard, pulling them into an impromptu selfie. Phichit was able to pose in time, pulling a wink and a peace sign, whereas the instigator made kissy lips at the camera.

Unfortunately, Yuuri looked like a sack of week old radishes; disheveled, alarmed, and red faced. Maybe he and Yakov could pass as twins once this was inevitably posted for the world to see.

It was a well known fact that Chris kept his friends close and his enemies closer, so it would be best for them to get along, regardless of how well their personalities meshed.

Unsure of how to proceed, Yuuri stood there awkwardly twiddling his thumbs, watching as Phichit and Chris began an animated conversation, hands in the air. They were two of a kind. How absolutely riveting.

The best plan of action was to wait it out. Peach would throw a minor hissy fit if Yuuri slipped back to their hotel room, and there was no way in hell he was going to scramble through the reporters on his own.

Letting his eyes wander, a familiar gleam of silver caught his eye. Oh god. There, looking as regal and elegant as he did on the ice, surrounded by an obnoxious audience of reporters, was Viktor Nikiforov, in the flesh.

He was even more porcelain up close, skin as clear as December's first layer of freshly fallen snow and eyes so bright they could light up an entire conference room.

Yuuri felt out of place being in the same room as him. It had been presumptuous to assume the reporters wanted anything to do with him when Viktor was present at the event. God, does that mean he would be rooming at the same upscale Hilton as the JSF skaters?

Embarrassed at his own ogling, the teen averted his eyes, trying to convince himself that the wilting roses resting upon the reception desk to his left were suddenly fascinating.

"Katsuki?"

He subtly flicked head back towards Chris and Peach who were still deep in conversation at the sound of his name being spoken. No dice. Maybe a reporter?

Yuuri positioned himself towards the crowd and heard his name mentioned once more. So it had been one of the leeches.

"He's currently in first place… as I'm sure you know. What are your thoughts? Do you think he deserved the score he received? People are going crazy on Twitter debating the judge's scoring. How do you feel about all of this?"

This was not fucking happening. Yuuri swallowed the bile rising back into his throat. Why were they grilling Viktor about his score? Didn't they have more important things to worry about, like Viktor's own skate?

The older skater tilted his head to the side, pondering the question. It may have been wishful thinking, but Yuuri could have sworn they made brief eye contact before he opened his mouth in a heart shaped smile, energetically explaining his thoughts aloud.

"He's a great skater, for sure! I don't think I'm the right person to ask in regards to scoring, though. I'm a skater, not a judge, yes?"

What a safe answer. Viktor was great at twisting his words and dancing around the intrusive questions that the paparazzi loved to spring on him. Unsatisfied, the reporter sighed, pushing the mic even closer to Viktor's face, asking

"You don't have any thoughts on the matter? There isn't a single thing you noticed about the first timer who may steal the gold ?"

There it was again, the subtle glance toward Yuuri. He wasn't going crazy, was he? Viktor sighed, tilting his cheek into the palm of his right hand.

"Well… I think he's very talented. There's not much to critique… I guess Yuuri is a bit on the chubby side for a skater, though. He is sort of like a little поросенок! If he lost a little weight, he'd probably pull off some groundbreaking scores. His jumps would improve drastically and put less pressure on the knees, allowing for smoother transitions when exiting them."

That was an entirely respectful observation. Viktor knew what he was talking about, surely, and it had been said in the same cheery manner as every other answer he had given. He had even complimented Yuuri's skating! It was truly a dream come true, having been acknowledged as a worthy competitor by the man who inspired him to pursue his passions.

Think with your brain, not your heart.

Find the logic in the situation.

There was nothing outwardly cruel about it. Why would Viktor, a person known for his kind and meaningful interactions with fans and fellow skaters speak about Yuuri with malicious intent? Analyze it, show some perspective.

Athletes were expected to be in peak shape, the same way actresses have been shamed for decades if they didn't fit the mold.

Yuuri was well aware of all that, So why did he feel like someone had taken a sledgehammer to his chest? Why was there a familiar yet unnervingly strong sense of self preservation telling him to run before he made a fool of himself in front of all of these people?

The urge to crawl out of his skin and scream cry overtook any remnant of logical thought. How humiliating. It was so embarrassing, the lack of self control he had shown the night before and it was obviously coming back to bite him.

Yuuri had kept his weight in check for so long, only giving into his nasty habit of stress eating once this year, the night prior. The teen had worked so fucking hard, he knew he would be seeing Viktor here.

That was all the motivation he needed to eat clean and stay fit. It hadn't been enough. While some folks had a genetic predisposition to maintaining a beautiful physique, Yuuri had to put in twice the effort for a lesser result.

It wasn't a secret. He was shorter than a lot of the other male skaters, meaning he had to keep a lower body fat percentage in order to meet the sport's typical expectations.

It was totally normal for skaters and coaches to comment on each other's form, expected, even. Athletes' bodies were their instruments of success, meticulously fine tuned to perfection. All of this rationalizing didn't do Yuuri a lick of good. He had T minus thirty seconds to get away from the crowd before he broke down into a puddle of shame.

Praying that his best friend telepathy was able to reach Phichit, he booked it to the nearest bathroom without verbally alerting the Thai skater, knowing it would be impossible to keep his cool throughout the five minute journey back up to the hotel room.

Skidding across the damp beige tiles, Yuuri made a mad dash for the inconspicuous middle stall. No one ever bothered with the middle stall. As soon as he slammed the stall closed and slid the metal lock into its fixture, the waterworks took hold.

Fat, salty tears poured down his cheeks in unforgiving waves. He tried his best to keep the sound to a minimum, but a few faint breaths and whines managed to sneak their way past his trembling lips.

His glasses had become so foggy with sweat and tears that they were more or less useless. Yuuri allowed them to slip off his face and onto the tile, turning the world into a blur of off-white and navy.

If he was going to be miserable, then he'd at least let himself have a little movie moment. It would have been nice if he had thought to pack his earbuds. Hindsight is 20/20.

A buzz shook him from the fetal position he had somehow assumed during his pity party. Perched on the toilet, head between his knees… what a sight he must have been in that moment.

A new window had appeared in his message bar. What kind of poorly timed bullshit was this? Maybe his parents had finally made that family group chat they had been suggesting for the last three years.

Pushing the unlikley thoughts to the back of his mind, Yuuri shook himself out a little, stretching his knees out until he heard a satisfying pop. Another buzz.

"For fucks sake…"

The bolded text at the top of the screen read " The Babysitter's Club". This was Phichit's handiwork, clear as day.

The Babysitter's Club

Peachy: Where did u go lol

Christmas 😘: Yuri… I can't babysit on my own, I'm horrible with kids. ☹️

Peachy: I'm the 1 doing the babysitting 😭😭 HELP

Peachy: Also, I'm a teenager, which is like wayyy worse!! Cope ✨

Katsukee: Hairnet :((

Peachy: oh shit? What happened? Are u somewhere safe?

** Katsukee Changed (1) nickname **

Yuuri: You spelled my name wrong again :// I don't want to talk abt it rn tbh, maybe later? I'm safe, don't worry.

Christmas 😘: I'm sorry, hairnet? Is that some sorta super special inside joke?

Peachy: ummm… Do u wanna tell him or?

Yuuri: Why are we having this conversation in a group chat?

Christmas 😘: Oh, don't mind me. Just curious is all. If it's personal, I understand, no harm done.

Yuuri: It's fine, I guess? 🥲 Peach and I have a few code words

Christmas 😘: Got it, no need to explain. Peach? Is that why his screen name is Peachy?

Peachy: ur standing right next to me, you could have just asked ?😭😭

Christmas 😘: I don't want to make Yuuri feel left out 😌.

Yuuri: I'm gonna go back to the room. Rain check? Sorry :(( I'll make it up to you, scouts honor

Peachy: cheesy mf

Peachy: it's fine, dw. I'll meet up W Ciao Ciao and fill him in. Do u need anyth? Food, sleeping tabs?

Yuuri: No, I'm fine. My Unisom is on the dresser so I'm all set.

Christmas 😘: I hope all is well, Yuuri! I'll see you at the free tomorrow.

Yuuri: For sure, good luck Chris!

Peachy: Bye Yuuri! ily <3< p>

** Yuuri Is Offline **

Cheeks still flushed from crying, Yuuri took a moment to gather himself. He didn't have an ice pack to bring down the swelling that was beginning to force his eyes shut, but cold water would have to do the job, at least for now.

He bent down to pick his glasses up off the stall's floor, rattled by his own behavior. They were not going back on his face until they received a good spray down with Lysol. God knows how many people have pissed on that floor.

Satisfied with his new plan of attack, Yuuri stood up and reached for the rusting lock mechanism, relieved that it gave way easily.

He stepped up to the mirror, sniffling like a child after a harsh scolding. A few handfuls of water and a mouthful of travel sized listerine later, Yuuri stepped out of his cave and meandered down the hallway, aimlessly searching for an elevator to board.

Once the teen finally arrived at his destination, he stared down the bottle of unisom.

Deciding against an early bedtime due to the fact that he would likely find himself wide awake at 3am, Yuuri decided to sabotage himself.

Well, not direct sabotage, per say, but he definitely knew better than to check Twitter. On a good day he avoided Twitter, so the fact that he willingly clicked the unassuming little icon without a second thought just went to show how out of it his little sob fest had left him.

Immediately an abnormal quantitative amassment of notifications made themselves apparent on the bell icon near the bottom of his phone screen. The most Yuuri had ever received after a competition was around 65, mostly Japanese fans commenting on his performance or congratulating him for no reason other than their shared nationality.

That being said, the shiny 99+ symbol made his stomach drop in an instant. To read or not to read? The right answer was obvious, so Yuuri did the opposite, allowing his anxiety to dictate his actions.

A mix of Russian, Japanese, and English tweets and quote tweets made up the majority of the alerts, but he had also received a fair amount of new followers, putting him at a grand total of 49k.

He was well versed enough in English, having lived in Detroit for the past two years, and his native tongue to understand a good two thirds of the messages but the Russian Cyrillic script was daunting and unfamiliar.

Deciding to handle those last, Yuuri sprayed his glasses with disinfectant and then slipped them onto his face before analyzing the first few tweets in chronological order.

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@Lockandkatsuki

Am I crazy or did Yuuri just kick Nikiforav's old ass? Out with the old and in with the new LMAOOO!! He's finally getting the attention he deserves. Don't forget me (ONE OF UR DAY ONE FANS) when ur the new Olympic champion <33 @yuurikatsuki< p>

2:33 pm • 10/18/19 • 6,003 views

49 Retweets 352 Likes 4 Bookmarks ——————————————————-

@Vikandvak

@lockandkatsuki you must be out of ur goddamn mind 😭😭? that kid is literally so forgettable. Chris is fun to look at, at least… but if I have to stare at the mf kid's face on the podium next to SOMEONE LIKE VIKTOR??! I'm gonna kms I stg

2:44 pm • 10/18/19 • 4,352 views

11 Retweets 129 Likes 1 Bookmarks ——————————————————-

@Lockandkatsuki

@vikandvak It's literally not that serious 💀 aren't u a little embarrassed yelling at some stranger over a man who doesn't even know that you exist ?

2:49 pm • 10/18/19 • 3,428 views

9 Retweets 122 Likes 0 Bookmarks —————————————————

@Vikandvak

@lockandkatsuki Katsuki hasn't even won shit ?? Hasn't his highest placement been bronze?? This was just the short…Viktor's obviously gonna make up for it in his free. I think the judges scored him low on purpose for the sake of drama but 🤷♀️

2:52 pm • 10/18/19 • 2,981 views

5 Retweets 102 Likes 0 Bookmarks —————————————————

This argument was going nowhere, Yuuri concluded, swiping up to the newer tweets in order to see what else people had to say about his skate that day.

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@Aruminartthou

I'm srsly losing my mind rn 😭 wtf is wrong w Viktor?? Why did he rip Yuuri to shreds like that. He's usually so sweet :( everyone knows how much Katsuki admires him… any thoughts ?? @yuurikatsuki

5:20 pm • 10/18/19 • 5,624 views

17 Retweets 552 Likes 19 Bookmarks —————————————————

@Sk8sk8baby

@arminartthou Mmm… well it's not really that unusual? They are athletes. Their whole job is to look and perform well. You can't do that with any extra weight on your body. It's not uncommon for coaches to keep track of their athlete's weights, even publicly at times, though I doubt it's a common practice nowadays

5:22 pm • 10/18/19 • 126 views

2 Retweets 14 Likes 0 Bookmarks —————————————————

@Sk8sk8baby

@sk8sk8baby Character limit lol, sorry, anyways , Katsuki isn't super heavy or anything, not that there's anything wrong with that outside of skating, but he's not as itty bitty as the other skaters. I think Viktor was just trying to help.

5:23 pm • 10/18/19 • 98 views

1 Retweets 9 Likes 0 Bookmarks —————————————————

Not as itty bitty, huh? Well, they weren't exactly wrong. Yuuri was aware of his stature and did his best to keep his weight from fluctuating but his build wasn't exactly helping the situation.

If it bothered him, he would have to change it, and so it was that Yuuri fell asleep de-escalating himself and making a game plan instead of worrying about the free skate as would be more typical of him.

He'd garner the right kind of attention next time.