You know, there was probably a time in which a much-younger Victor Nikiforov sat down with his very first costume designer and explained exactly what he wanted his outfit to look like. And there was a time in which said costume designer explained that all of those ideas were great. They’d just have to push the neckline a little further, maybe replace a bit of the fabric with mesh.“You have the most beautiful skin, darling,” she’d said. “It’s what people want to see.”
There was probably a time in which a much-younger Victor Nikiforov got his very first PR specialist and was taught the ins and outs of flirting with the cameras. He learned exactly when to be sweet, when to be silent, when to be sexy. And in the end, he learned how to give people exactly what they wanted.
There was probably a time in which a much-younger Victor Nikiforov was asked if he had a girlfriend. And he’d laughed, twirled his hair around his finger. “Of course not,” he’d said, wearing signature smile number five. “But I have a boyfriend.”
Technically he didn’t have a boyfriend, but the look on the PR lady’s face had been priceless.
He hadn’t really been ready for all the questions that came after, but he’d answered them anyway. He’d laughed. He’d smiled. He’d made a few jokes, thrown in an innuendo or two for good measure.
There was a time in which a much-younger Victor Nikiforov became a playboy, and though he couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it was, the headlines had spoken for themselves.
There was also a time in which a much-younger Victor Nikiforov became an adult, and though he hadn’t necessarily been of age, the headlines had spoken for themselves.
So had the interview questions.
There was probably a time in which a slightly-less-younger Victor Nikiforov had regretted it all, in which he realized just how far he’d gone, in which he realized that he couldn’t go back.
And there was probably a time in which a fourteen-year-old Yuri Plisetsky looked at a much-older Victor Nikiforov, determination etched in his eyes, ready to skate Eros with everything he had.
And there was probably a moment in which Victor realized it wasn’t even a choice. Of course, someone would push Yuri down that road eventually, someone probably already had.
But that someone would not be Victor Nikiforov.
It would never be Victor Nikiforov, and Yuri would skate Agape.
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