Max Verstappen x OC!fem!figureskater
~not much knowledge required, OC explains things to Max as he was never into figure skating, so you'll understand too <3
General masterlist
current wc: 83.9k
-> Description + Prologue
-> Chapter I ''Another one''
-> Chapter II ''Mother not mom''
-> Chapter III ''What is Triple–A?''
-> Chapter IV ''Getting comfortable''
-> Chapter V ''Exploring''
-> Chapter VI ''Another step''
-> Chapter VII ''The plushie''
-> Chapter VIII ''Flirting?''
-> Chapter IX ''Pretext''
-> Chapter X ''Beginning''
-> Chapter XI ''Spiraling''
-> Chapter XII ''The documentary''
-> Chapter XIII ''Olympic Village''
-> Chapter XIV ''Disheveled''
-> Chapter XV ''Showdown''
-> Chapter XVI ''Aftermath''
-> Chapter XVII ''Decision''
-> Chapter XVIII ''Clash''
Max Verstappen x OC!fem!figureskater
~not much knowledge required, OC explains things to Max as he was never into figure skating, so you'll understand too <3
-> Chapter I ''Another one''
Description
Russian figure skating is different from everywhere else, especially when you're training under Eteri Tutberidze and going to international competitions. Though if you manage to score some medals, you may sometimes find some joy outside of exhausting training.
Like for example: getting a lovely apartment, going on nice vacations after Worlds or being a part of shows off-season, like Fantasy on Ice.
Or you may also be able to do an amazing surprise to your dad, who is a big F1 fan – of course if one of your sponsors has their own team in Formula One and you manage to get a pass from them.
Well, Amaliya Svetlanova succeeded, and didn't even know how a surprise for her dad may influence her whole life.
Prologue
Amaliya (Amalia) Svetlanova-Berlusconi
Amaliya looked down at her phone with a wide smile on her face. She's been waiting for one message for quite some time and when she got it, felt like kicking her feet in excitement. Though she didn't really have space for that, as just two days ago she moved into her own apartment, finally freeing herself from her mother. The best thing that came from turning eighteen.
Boxes were still around, as she didn't have enough time or strength to organise everything in the space, that's for the first time it was only hers. But it didn't stop her from jumping on the bed and kicking her legs in the air, as she opened chat with her father.
Ama 💖: I have something really special, but I need you in Spielberg, Austria, 6th July. Already booked a hotel, so don't worry about anything. Just come and enjoy <3
Papa 💚: ???
Papa 💚: What did you do?
Ama 💖: 🤫
She turned on her back on the bed, biting her lower lip, trying to stop a smirk as if someone was to see it and ask why she's so happy.
Papa 💚: Is it what I think it is?
Ama 💖: I used my free will, athlete and adult powers mixed
Papa 💚: I'm scared and excited at the same time
Ama 💖: Great! See you there Papa <3
Papa 💚: How's your ankle?
Ama 💖: Hm?
Ama 💖: Why ask now when I'm excited about the great surprise I have for your birthday?
Papa 💚: Because you always change topic when I ask
Papa 💚: Oh, and now you do the same. Read and don't intend to answer, huh?
Papa 💚: You remember I've been through a span of injuries myself? I'll understand
Ama 💖: It's okay. I put the tape and it doesn't hurt at all. Until the season starts it'll be like new 😁
It was a little lie from her, as her ankle hurt quite a bit, but only when she went skating and was training jumps. Outside of that, it was normal. Especially when she didn't put the high heels on...
She sighed, put the phone away and sat up. Her eyes on their own moved to the box with louboutins she bought the same day she moved out. Maybe she was no better than her mother after all?
Speaking of which... She had ignored her messages for a whole day now and didn't feel like responding anytime soon. Especially when she saw the preview of some messages. She's supposed to be happy that she's finally somewhat free, has her own place, and – most importantly – her money is only hers. No more arguing about it, no more struggling. Also no more taking care of her when she randomly chooses to get drunk after work.
Her phone vibrated on the bed, so she fell back on it and grabbed the phone, thinking it's probably another message from her dad or mother trying to reach her again. She was pleasantly surprised when she saw the name on the screen.
Zhenya 💅: Jogging and coffee???
A tradition that must be cultivated. No matter if it's summer or winter, jogging and gossiping, and coffee is a must at least twice a week. If they're at the same place in the world.
Ami 🎤: Sure. But help me a little with the apartment first? 🙏
And that stupid microphone next to her nick. She shook her head whenever she saw it. To think that just one evening with karaoke in Japan and this stupid emoji will be hounding her probably till the end of her life.
Anyway, it was worth it. One of the best memories they share. Even if her brother is never letting her forget the video of her singing off-key. Why on earth did she put it on her instagram story, and not the one where she actually sang well...
Zhenya 💅: First coffee, then apartment disaster 😉
Zhenya 💅: How your mother survived your moving out btw?
Ami 🎤: We'll talk when we get that damn coffee you love so much 🙄
Zhenya 💅: Joke on you, I'm in front of your block of flats 😘 So get your ass down here and try to outrun me
Ami 🎤: 5 minutes and I'm down, try not to run in place
She quickly put her phone away and walk between boxes to get to the wardrobe, and pulled out clothes she usually put on for jogging.
The exciting thought of taking her dad to a Formula One race suddenly at the back of her head. Just as all the anxiety accompanying her with the upcoming Olympic season. One and only chance to medal at the most prestigious event. The thing her mother was telling her about since she could remember and she was falling more than landing. The event her dad told her not to stress too much, that she'll surely do great, just like always. 'Not once you missed a podium, why would you now?'.
Somehow those words only put bigger pressure on her.
-> This fanfic's masterlist
-> General masterlist
~Author's note~
A quick note: English is not my first language, so I'm sorry for any mistakes <3
This fanfiction (and whole account, lol) happened because since few weeks (months?) I got a crush on Max Verstappen and the urge to write something was going after me for so long. I'm very interested in figure skating and thought with such an OC I can create quite interesting story. Also, have in mind that I'm just getting into racing, I research much, but I might make some mistakes sometimes – if it happens, be forgiving and point them out nicely, please?
Sometimes things may go brutal (or hot...), keep that in mind <3 If things get hot, I'll put [+18] in the chapter's title.
I hope you'll stay and are eager to learn Amaliya's past and future (solo and with Max of course) <3 If you want to be tagged – let me know.
(It's not my first time writing fanfiction if anyone is wondering 😝 Been in this for many years now).
Max Verstappen x OC!fem!figureskater ~not much knowledge required, OC explains things to Max as he was never into figure skating, so you'll understand too <3
-> Chapter IX ''Pretext''
-> Chapter XI ''Spiraling''
-> This fanfic's masterlist
Chapter X ''Beginning''
"You talk about outfits, but what about my gift? I'm still waiting."
Yeah, that was one of the first things Max said, when she picked up the phone. Little did he know she already had everything packed and just waiting to be sent tomorrow. It should arrive before Christmas, at least she hoped it would.
"Who said I'm sending you anything?" she teased and put the phone on speaker as she wanted to prepare herself some tea.
"Come on, Christmas gift?"
"Who do you think you are, to deserve Christmas gifts from me?"
"Clearly someone important, if you ask me about outfits."
Amaliya rolled her eyes at that and reached for her favourite cup and then for a box with her favourite tea.
"Maybe something will come, maybe not. I haven't decided yet whether you behaved well enough to get a gift."
"My mom would say I did." he answered without a second thought. "I'm visiting her for Christmas, my sis will be there too. What about you? Any plans?"
It was supposed to be a light topic, something people discussed without giving it much thought and had similar answers. Go home, spend it with family. For her it usually was no different, but not that year. She stopped pouring tea in the cup and thought for a few moments how to answer to not sound bad.
"I have Nationals." she only said, with a light tone, resuming her movements.
"On Christmas Eve...?"
"No, not exactly–" she sighed, putting the box down and it was hearable though the call. How to not over–explain it? "Competition is twenty–second and twenty–third, so technically I could come home, but it's... gonna be tiring and not much fun. Besides, it's not big in Russia, we rather celebrate a New Year's Eve. But it's just the Olympic season, I usually come to Milano."
"From all I heard it seems like Olympic season is really getting to you."
Yeah, it is. He didn't even know how much.
She was glad she wasn't currently injured and thus didn't have to push through pain – like the last season. The Worlds, on which she managed just because skates are stiff and painkillers worked. She could withdraw, but didn't want to. Could she skate? Yes. So the answer about participating was obvious.
Of course she never told that anyone outside the environment. How bad her ankle actually was.
The thing is, she's used to working hard, pushing through limits to not get replaced. As you must prove you're worthy of even training in that group, not to mention representing the country. Competition is bigger than in other countries, maybe that's why it is like this. Just three spots, when there are many times more girls yearning for those.
"It's once in four years after all."
"You make it feel like it's once in ten years or more."
She let out a chuckle at that, despite that it wasn't that funny when she started to think about it. But the truth is... She doesn't know if it isn't her one and only chance for Olympic Gold. Will she be good enough in four years to even make it to the team? How will she feel, physically?
"Either way, it's very important."
"I get it. And I'm keeping my fingers crossed, if you even need it."
* * *
Days tend to drag when you're waiting for something. Luckily, Max didn't know he should be expecting something – okay, he might have hoped, but Amaliya hadn't said anything sure about sending a package.
Until one day the package came, and now stood proudly on the table in the living room, as Max went for scissors to open it. He was away for just a few seconds, but cats already came to see what's going on and what that strange smell is. Sassy was first to jump on the box and inspect it, meanwhile Jimmy circled it and put his paw against it.
"I want to open it." said Max, when he came back with scissors and saw Sassy sitting on top of it, looking at him as if she didn't understand what he said. "Don't look at me like that. Get down, please?"
Seeing she had no intention of moving, he sighed and put the scissors down on the table, to have two free hands to pick her up. Of course she protested a little, as she wasn't a big fan of being held. As soon as she saw ground under her, she wiggled and Max let her down.
He could have waited a little until she got down herself, but the truth is... he couldn't. Mentally. He was just too excited to see what's inside to wait any longer.
For a moment he doubted Ama planned on giving him anything – at least before Christmas – and the very next day he got a package. And couldn't wait to open it, as excited as if he was about to flat–out.
"You too?" he looked at Jimmy, who moved his tail, sharing some of Max's excitement, waiting to see what's inside – or just wanting more food, or an empty box.
Max picked him up too and got off the table, and then picked up scissors again, to finally open the box.
First thing to see inside, was much of a bubble wrap – as if something could happen to a plushie inside. He eventually took it out and squinted, as it wasn't exactly what he expected. Was it... Was it that thing she often held during competitions? The... Tissue holder, yeah, that.
But there was something in that. He took out the folded note first, and sat down on the couch to read it:
'If my performance ever moves you enough to cry (or you just catch cold or spill something). And a little friend to keep you company (he always eavesdrops on our calls, and told me he wants to meet you. He's small and promised to not to cumber). He makes me smile, hope he'll be as nice to you too ♡'
He smiled to himself while reading, even a little wider when he saw a little heart at the end. A familiar warmth spread in his chest as he read this once more before reaching to the tissue holder again, to get that 'little friend' out of it.
It really was small, which somehow melted his heart. Small enough to carry it everywhere in the bag or backpack, to put it next to the bedside lamp. Just to keep it near always.
He raised it a little, the lion now sitting on his hand looking at him with its forever–smile.
It wasn't just funny and sweet on its own, it was more about the fact how she described it. That it makes her smile, is nice, tells her it wants to meet him, and always eavesdrops on their calls. It meant it had to spend some time in her apartment, was personal, yet she decided to give it away to him. He meant enough for her, to give him something she cares about, something she probably once got from a fan and found it special enough to keep.
And that it's to keep him company. Small enough he can take it everywhere and remember her.
"You like it too?" he looked to the side, at Sassy who just jumped on the couch. Now with two paws on his thigh was outstretching herself, trying to have a sniff of the little plushie.
Meanwhile Jimmy? Jimmy jumped into the box and it fell off the table. Obviously Max immediately turned his gaze there, but Jimmy ran out of the box just to get into it again, so it seemed like everything was okay.
When he was looking away, Sassy sniffed the toy closely and didn't like it smelled like someone.
Seeing how invested in that is his feline, he brought the plushie closer to his face and also smelled it, feeling the faint scent of perfume. Something sweet, like a... strawberry? Strawberry cake?
"You're aware it's mine, right?" he said, as Sassy jumped onto the table and stepped into the hole of the tissue holder. "It's not your new bed, it's a tissue holder. You know, those white things you like to take out of the box and play with? And I have to clean it later?" he reached with a free hand and petted her.
Then he took out his phone and took a photo of Sassy still sitting in the tissue holder, just after that quickly going to messages.
Max: *sent a photo of Sassy in the tissue holder*
Max: Gift approved by the lady of the house
Max: And the little one is as nice as you said
Amaliya screenshotted those messages as soon as she received them and liked to look at them from time to time – just like on the other of their messages she kept saved like that.
Getting back to those, or voice messages, helped her deal with hard days and stress – better than mindless scrolling though Instagram.
It was one of those days, when she sat down and read those, remembering the moments she first saw them. But even that couldn't push away thoughts that kept circling in her mind.
Now, at twenty–third of December, day of the free skate on Nationals, she was just after a short morning ice session.
She grabbed another tissue from her cat tissue holder and blew her nose. It was normal, going from cold to warm environment, she didn't question it. She could even throw the used tissue to the bin and not miss.
Amaliya looked down at her feet in unlaced skates. There were two thoughts that kept coming back to her: First, about Evgenia, and second, about Christmas.
Her dear friend didn't take part in the Nationals, as she was still healing her foot. Though told her she will participate at Europeans and despite not competing at Nationals, will be in the team. It didn't make her humour better, as it had to be something serious, if Evgenia didn't push through this to compete. Or maybe just prioritized the Olympics. After all, she'd tell her if it was that serious, right?
Second though was no lighter. She might have already made the decision of not coming some time ago, but it still hurt a bit. Not because Christmas were something special for her, but because they were for her dad. He surely was understanding but sad she won't make it.
She could. She thought about it even last morning, but then, getting up from the bed, remembered how much she doesn't have the strength for that, to travel just for one day. The further it was in the season, the more she was forcing herself to get up from bed, get some strong coffee, suck it up and do her job. That one dream of Olympic gold over her neck keeps her going. She can collapse only after she has it in her hands.
The training she told about when asked about New Year – she could move those. Or miss one day. But what would it say about her? She doesn't care enough. She's not taking it seriously. She just wants to have fun. Others who aren't even in the national team come and she won't? She thinks too much of herself.
She can't have people think or – even worse – speak about her like that.
Today she secures her spot for the Olympic team, another step towards her dream.
She took off her skates completely, wiped the blades, put soakers on them and put them in her skating bag. You should never leave your bag – or just skates and costumes – if you don't want someone to destroy your chances of winning. It never happened to her personally, but she heard stories of destroyed costumes or skates put against the red–hot heater. Wouldn't like it to happen to her.
After she put on her boots, she threw a bag over her arm, taking a bottle of water out of it. She went to the bathroom and then got some water into her mouth, rinsing it and then spit water out to the basin. With forearms resting against the basin she looked up at herself in the mirror. Tired eyes, bags under them she will cover with make–up. Hair sticking out of her bun after the training. Not exactly a look of a champion.
And her head hurts, that throbbing pain that irritated her through half of the training and is still there. She's gonna have to get some painkillers before going out on the ice.
But why does it even hurt her? It can't be period, she's on the pill and skips placebo. Purely to not have any unpleasant surprises in competitions.
It's probably just because she hadn't drunk anything since she woke up. Or tiredness. Or stress – even though pressure doesn't come on her that much anymore. Or everything combined.
Maybe she ate something bad? Maybe that yogurt she had for breakfast was not good anymore? But she would notice, right?
Or maybe that's some random headache just to spite her.
"Just a little more." she murmured to herself, turning on the cold water and rinsing her face.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Amaliya still had a lot of time before her start. The event starts half past five, but until her turn comes it's gonna be around half past eight, maybe a few minutes earlier. Either way, enough time to have some rest, do her make–up, put on a costume and warm–up.
But those weren't easy hours, not until she took the painkillers and they started working. The most important thing is that going onto the ice she felt good enough and delivered a good performance.
Of course, it wasn't a win she hoped for as Evgenia wasn't competing, but proving once more she can do better than her younger teammate? That meant a lot to her.
Meant, she's not replaceable yet.
Didn't mean she stopped trying to get better, to the level she saw young juniors aspire.
Just the next day, when she could have a day off, she decided to come to the training complex. When she still had that adrenaline, that excitement from winning and will to try, instead of laying down in bed. She decided tomorrow will be her day off, yet regretted it rather quickly, when things weren't going as she wanted them to.
Must have been a funny sight, a day ago a flawless performance, becoming Russian National Champion, and today? Falling on the jumps that were supposed to be just a warm–up. If that wasn't enough, her throat was getting a little sore, probably due to spending so much time on the ice rink. And winter overall...
Luckily, the training session wasn't an absolute disaster. She did manage to land the quad toe loop a few times – underrotated, she felt that, but she was getting closer to achieving it.
No reasons to be proud yet, but to have shivers of excitement? Totally.
What she didn't know was that some junior from the club filmed one of her attempts. And decided to share it with the world through Twitter.
@ username
*Slightly blurry and shaky video from the boards, of Amaliya attempting a quad toe loop*
A quad toe from Amaliya Svetlanova, will we see it in competition soon? 👀
Amaliya didn't see it, no one tagged her on it and she herself wasn't as active on Twitter as she was on Instagram. But if she saw it? She surely wouldn't be happy. Not because someone secretly filmed her, that happened many times already, but because it wasn't perfect. It was still a poor attempt in her eyes and she wasn't ready to share it.
Also because of the expectations it would raise towards her and criticism of risking just before the Olympics.
She usually didn't like when things like that were shared, even when it was done by the team. That's also why she wasn't too happy about the documentary.
She was aware that nobody does things perfect at the first try, but showing falls and struggles? She'd rather not.
The post of course spread quickly in the skating community, and everyone had something to say, especially when it came to arguing.
– omggg, she's so close!!! It's like, just a half rotation missing!!!
⤷ yeah, she has the height for it, just needs a bit more rotation
⤷ Wtf are you saying, she rotates more on her 3A than that attempt 💀
– she should focus on artistry.
⤷ it's literally been perfect for YEARS. The issue is she's not the judges' favourite :(
⤷ not the judges' favourite??? She literally holds the SP world record and just won the GP final AND nationals 💀
⤷ yeah, because who wasn't there? Don't act like it didn't matter. I'd be sooo mad if I was her
⤷ let's be honest, BOTH Svetlanova and Medvedeva are overscored. They should be thankful for every medal they have stolen
⤷ 'stolen'? 😂 From who? Even with 'right' scores they would still be better than everyone else
⤷ then why are they overscored? And why is Medvedeva put over Svetlanova with her 3A?
⤷ I'm not denying favouritism, it has always been in skating 🤷♀️ I'd be mad if I was Ama. I still wonder how her lutz gets less points than Evgenia's with flat edge...
⤷ so my point with them being overscored still stands lol. Not even mentioning they're prerotating as hell
⤷ Bro, EVERYONE prerotates 😭
– rotation left the chat
⤷ but she held it, kind of impressive, my ass would kiss the ice
– someone tell her to focus on the 3A, thank you
⤷ She's already the queen of 3A, now pushing the limits 💪
⤷ risking before the olympics? That's pure stupidity 😂 I won't even pity her when she gets injured, she's asking for it
⤷ But that's what elite sport should be about??? pushing boundaries
⤷ idc, it's before THE olympics
⤷ She's a multiple medalist and champion, I think she and her team know better than some random on twitter
⤷ Evgenia is injured without attempting a quad lolz Still think they know what they're doing?
⤷ Bruh, we don't know why she's injured
– 24th December and she's training? Or is it an old video?
⤷ One word: Russia (and Eteri)
⤷ poor girl 😭 Just yesterday were nationals, she should be resting!
⤷ that's why those girls are the best
⤷ it doesn't take much research to know christmas is not a big thing in russia
⤷ Yeah, but she's half italian, so I just thought...
– You all need to calm down, it's one training clip. Half of these jumps never make it to competition
– HOLD ON EVERYONE, OLYMPIC GOLD IS COMING!!!
⤷ It would be rated lower than a good triple toe... But who knows, with Eteri bonus everything's possible
The post didn't get to Amaliya, but it got to Max. Absolutely randomly. Yesterday, due to not much time, he was refreshing an account on Twitter that was giving updates on the Nationals. And today, on Christmas Eve, got a notification with this proposed Tweet to see.
Blurry video didn't tell him too much, but surely more than comments with language he still did not quite understand. But he understood both admiration and criticism.
People questioning what she's doing, thinking they know better what she can and can't do. He doesn't know if and how risky it may be, but if she's doing it? Clearly not enough for her to care, so people could shut up. Except they never do.
More irritating are people saying that you don't deserve something. He hopes even if she sees that, she doesn't give a single fuck about it and just continues to do her job. He was just a casual viewer, not even for long, not knowing all those technicalities and details of the scoring system, so he can't speak about that, but he could say she was the most pleasing to look at. Objectively, not because he liked her.
She had that... Flow. Those fluent or sharp movements, whatever was currently needed. Her whole body was telling a story, including face expressions. Not everyone could do that.
But maybe he's too casual a viewer.
What really caught his interest were comments about her training the day after competition instead of resting. And people bringing up training regimens in the camp. Max himself was raised rather harshly when it comes to sport, at least that's what people said. This time he was put in the position of an observator, and that's what made it hard to judge.
On one hand, things people were writing about were concerning. Long trainings, just one day off in a week or none, rumours about girls not drinking water on the competition days, keeping low weight, skating on injuries. But considering how often people exaggerate or make up stuff, nothing from those words could be taken as a one hundred percent truth.
On the other hand, there was Amaliya who, someone in that environment, not some random person on Twitter. And she was... Completely normal. Yeah, they weren't seeing each other in real life, but grew close – at least from his side. Something would surely slip up and he would notice. She sometimes said she's tired and often was going on or coming back from training when they texted or talked, but it's just an elite sport. She was looking completely normal. Skinny, fit, but normal.
Also, he – and most probably all of those people on the internet – didn't know how the training looks. There are surely many exercises they do. Like stretching, she often texts while stretching, and it's not that tiring like jumping, but is also addressed by her as 'training'.
And the last thing, what he himself went through since childhood. It wasn't easy, but is clearly paying off now. His dad was harsh, but now he can fulfill his dreams. Just as she is obviously fulfilling hers.
That was what made it conflicting and didn't let him form a straight judgement in his head. If the things people were saying were true, it wasn't a good environment and Ama might have – or still do – suffer from that. But even if he acknowledges that, he's still justifying his own path through the sport.
Those two opinions just don't match.
And probably won't anytime soon. Especially without any clear info, and he won't be asking her that, for many reasons.
Amaliya, not even knowing about the post, obviously also didn't know that Max saw it, and read comments under it that caught his interest. She was coming back from training in the early evening, not scrolling through her phone or listening to music, as she didn't feel like it. She felt worse than usual, maybe she overdid it. All she wanted was to lay down, didn't even have to shower – though it would be pretty nice after the training...
She looked through her bag, searching for keys as she was almost at the building, and then her phone rang. She didn't expect anyone particular while reaching for it. A quick glance on the screen told her it's her brother.
With a heavy sigh – that turned into a cough – she picked up and raised her phone to the ear.
"Hello?" she murmured, coming back to searching for the keys.
"Do you want good news or bad news first?" a familiar voice filled her ear, but she didn't really focus on it. She chose the right key and opened the door, already annoyed by all the stairs she has to climb.
"Whatever." she answered bluntly, going up.
"Hey, what's wrong? You sound... Pretty bad, sis."
"I just overdid it. Went to train today instead of accepting a day off, and well..." she coughed again. She put keys in a bag for a moment, to take out a water bottle, as she felt dryness in her throat. "But tomorrow I have the whole day to myself, so it's gonna be alright. Don't worry. What's up?"
"Then maybe first the good news. You're great, we all were already together at the day of your free skate and congrats sis, now officially an Olympian. And the second good news: A Christmas gift is on the way, should reach you soon."
Despite how she felt, bad, tired and annoyed while opening doors with one hand, Amaliya couldn't help but smile at that. At someone being proud of her. At remembering her despite that they were growing up mostly apart, at how close they still managed to be. She could already imagine how problematic that gift would be to open, but that actually made it better. Will help her for a moment pull thoughts away from skating.
Just like any conversation with Max also does.
"And the bad ones?" she dropped her bag in the hallway and leaned against the wall.
"I got into a pretty heated argument with mother and might have ruined Christmas Eve. So you haven't missed much."
"That doesn't sound like bad news to me."
"I didn't plan to argue on such a day. Wanted to just keep an eye on mother, but well..."
"I bet I'd explode even faster than you, don't worry. Whatever you said, she deserved that. I'm more worried about how dad reacted..." she murmured the last sentence, finally reaching to the zip to take off her thick jacket.
"You have time for a longer talk?"
"Yeah, just let me take my shoes off and brew some tea."
And they talked. Pretty long, as at the end of it Amaliya was already laying in bed and as soon as they finished, she turned–off the bedside lamp, grabbed the cactus plushie and turned on her side, hugging it tight and pulling the duvet up to her chin.
Max Verstappen x OC!fem!figureskater
~not much knowledge required, OC explains things to Max as he was never into figure skating, so you'll understand too <3
-> Chapter I ''Another one''
-> Chapter III ''What is Triple–A?''
-> This fanfic's masterlist
Chapter II ''Mother not mom''
The moment she got out of the car she didn't feel it yet. Only when she reached to take the helmet off, she felt how much her hands were shaking from the adrenaline rush. She couldn't quite grab the strap, at least not good enough to undo it.
"Need help?" Max already got out also, and saw her struggling, making his way towards her before she even answered.
"A little." she admitted in a murmur, trying to sound annoyed, but couldn't stop the smile that creeped on her face and refused to leave.
His skilled fingers quickly dealt with it without problems and her head was freed. Alongside with hair she styled in the morning now sticking out to the sides. Brushing hands over the top of her head to correct them didn't do much, but she didn't see it yet.
"There you go." he said as soon as the helmet was off her head and he gave it away to someone from the staff.
"Do you mind taking a selfie?" Amaliya pulled her phone out and opened the camera, and immediately flinched, seeing the state of her hair. "Oh fu–" she began a swear in Russian under her breath, and raised hand up to her head once again, to not look like a disaster when she's about to take a photo.
Max held back a giggle, seeing her caring so much about a few hair sticking out, serious as if it was a federal crime.
"If you finish before sun sets." he threw jokingly, crossing arms over his chest.
It cost her everything to not scoff and snap back an equally rude reply. Instead, she quickly moved to his side, raised her phone and took a selfie before he was ready for it.
"Hey! No, again!"
She giggled, looking to the side at his offended face, but complied.
"Can I post it later?" she asked, despite that both of them were used to people (and especially media) posting them without permission. Yet she'd feel bad if she did that without asking first. It was common decency, not much, but important to her.
"Sure, tag me." Max smiled back at her. Oh well, getting her instagram was easy.
* * *
In the late evening of the same day, Amaliya still wasn't sleeping. Bright light from her phone's screen lit up her face in the dark room, while she was scrolling through the photos from this day. Always the same problem with posting - what to choose?
She sighed and another few minutes passed before she made up her mind.
@ amaliya.svetlanova
*carousel of 4 photos:
– selfie from above with dad and passes
– Amaliya drinking coffee in Red Bull hospitality
– selfie with Max
– of the track, with blurred cars, taken during the free practise*
First day of surprise for my beloved dad! 💕 Thanks to @ redbullracing for making my dad's dream come true and thank you @ maxverstappen1 for the ride (and not killing us), it was fun
She read it one more time like always and clicked the post. Then let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding, and put the phone down just to pick it up a minute later, when she remembered the message she forgot to answer.
Zhenya 💅: Johnny misses you 🥺 *a selfie of Evgenia with Amaliya's cactus*
She burst out laughing, covering her mouth to not be too loud. Ah, her beloved plant, that's been with her since she pricked her finger on it one day in the shop. That was destiny. She bought it and for a few months was jokingly offended at it, and then it bloomed. And she could no longer even pretend in that dumb way that she's mad. She still smiles at herself when she thinks of it, how pathetic it was, but somehow made her heart warm. She liked to think that Johnny apologized for pricking her with blooming, at least that small thing made her days brighter.
How stupid is it that she misses a plant whenever she leaves home?
Ami 🎤: Tell him his mommy misses him too 😭 I hope he behaves???
Zhenya 💅: Of course, he loves his aunt 😚
Zhenya 💅: Anything you'd like to share with us from today?
Zhenya 💅: Or maybe just with me, if it's not suitable for the kid's ears...
Amaliya rolled her eyes even though Zhenya obviously couldn't see it. She and her love for gossip, especially about relationships. They have spent so many evenings discussing lives of people they haven't and never will see live – and even more, after Evgenia fell in love for the first time.
Ami 🎤: You and your love for gossip 🙄
Ami 🎤: I feel dead, we will talk tomorrow, okay? There is something to talk about... 🤭
There was not much to speak about – but she smiled stupidly at her phone while writing that – yet she had to write it and leave her hanging, without an answer.
Zhenya 💅: HEY! YOU CAN'T TEASE ME AND LEAVE, AMA, DON'T YOU DARE!!!
Zhenya 💅: ANSWER MEEEEE 😭😭😭
The smile on her face grew even wider, seeing how desperate her friend was for the answer she wasn't going to give her now. Before she put her phone screen-down on the nightstand, she saw it light up with notifications.
To be honest, when the morning came she forgot she left her hanging. She already got into the pace of the next day and didn't really check her phone until breakfast.
Or rather, pushing food her dad brought them when she already went to sit at one of the tables, around the plate. It was way more than she's used to eating and once again she will have to come up with something, so her dad won't start worrying.
"You don't like it?" there it is, he asked. Without worrying edge yet though.
"No, no! Just a bit too much for me, I'm not two meters tall, you know?" she attempted to turn it into a joke. After a short smile, she glanced at her phone laying on the left of her plate and unlocked it.
"Even while eating?"
"I'll just check the comments." she pouted, knowing perfectly well how it works on her dad.
Comments under her newest post looked just how she could imagine it:
– last place I expected to see her
– HAPPY BIRTHDAY MATTEO BERLUSCONI 🇮🇹
⤷ "thank you for your daughter sir" we all say in unison 🙌
⤷ she's representing Russia tho...
⤷ so you all forgot she has a brother who recently got into the national team?
– aww, so sweet 😭
– YOU'RE ON AUSTRIAN GP?! God listened to my prayers, can I get an autograph If we bump on each other? 🙏
⤷ @ amaliya.svetlanova: Sure <3
⤷ I'm jealous, getting an autograph and an answer 💔
– I WOULD SELL MY SOUL FOR THAT PASS.
⤷ meanwhile Ama (probably): Why people watch cars ride in circles?
⤷ @ amaliya.svetlanova: I might have said that 👀
⤷ GIRL, ARE YOU ALIVE?! 😭
⤷ I love you, such a ragebaiter <3
⤷ who did you tell that to?! We demand a storytime
⤷ why even go there if you don't like it? lol
⤷ can you read? it's for her dad
– Max??? What kind of crossover is this?
– Ama out there on a side quest before olympics
– confirmed: after winning olympics ama will move to F1
⤷ @ amaliya.svetlanova: on my way to set a record of the shortest F1 career
– MAX LIKED
⤷ obviously, she tagged him???
⤷ let me dream
"They wish you a happy birthday." she told her dad, glancing up from her phone and taking a bite of the sandwich.
"They can be sweet sometimes."
"Sometimes?" she raised an eyebrow, expecting an explanation.
"Once I gave my shirt away after a won match and started smelling it obsessively. And it's one of the lighter stories." he shrugged as if it was already completely normal for him.
Amaliya couldn't hold it in and burst out laughing.
"And I thought getting flowers from a random person who somehow got on the ice was strange." she managed to say between chuckles.
Remembering it now was a funny story, but back then she was rather scared. People throwing gifts on the ice was normal, but some guy getting on the ice to give her a bouquet? She was still wondering how no one stopped him. Though back then her main concern was her safety. She took the bouquet of course, to not enrage the guy, but didn't take it home.
"Some can be quite crazy. Your mother was jealous many times when we got together."
But still didn't appreciate you – she thought, but bit her tongue to not say anything. Better to not start this topic again, they don't need argues today, on the day of his birthday. Her gaze traveled back to her phone, scrolling through a few more comments and answers, adding some from herself as well.
– @ redbullracing: Pleasure is all ours, pass on best wishes from us 🔥
⤷ @ amaliya.svetlanova: Done. You made him at least 5 years younger 😂
– @ maxverstappen1: You didn't scream
⤷ @ amaliya.svetlanova: Told you
⤷ excuse me, what happened there? 😏😂
⤷ spill the tea!
⤷ rather: spill the red bull! Haha, ha...
⤷ OH, HELLO MAX 😍
⤷ unexpected but a welcome one
⤷ kinda ship it
– Max in the comments 😭💙
⤷ guys, she is also sponsored by Red Bull, it's as simple as that.
⤷ I don't care, love this random duo
– Ama, if you have any more content with Max please don't gatekeep
"Red Bull also wishes you all the best. Glad you enjoy the weekend."
She completely ignored over a hundred replies to Max's comment. Her dad wouldn't care about it anyway, yeah?
"Never enjoyed retirement more." he said bluntly – making Amaliya laugh again – eating what was left on his plate and only then Amaliya realised how much of a slow eater she was. Or he was a fast eater. "What?"
"How did you eat it so fast?"
"I was hungry. And not focused on my phone."
"It's part of my job, building community. That's how you then get more sponsors." she explained shrugging.
She was well aware her career in figure skating wouldn't last forever and didn't know how much more. Probably not to the next Olympic cycle. By that time she'll have to find another occupation. Yeah, she might still do shows and stay close to the sport as a commentator or coach, she'd like to do more than that. Maybe start her own brand? And for that she doesn't only need money, but people who'd like to buy something created by her.
"Yeah? And how popular you are, my champion?"
"Almost one and a half million followers, thank you very much." she pouted, but then noticed that her dads expression changed from amused to surprised.
"That's much."
"For a figure skater especially. I told you I'm treating it seriously."
"Whatever's your final goal, I'm one hundred percent sure you'll achieve it. As always."
She smiled at that, happy to have such support from him.
They spoke more, until Amaliya finally decided she couldn't fit any more food in her stomach. She got up to take plates away, where they're supposed to be left, and was already on her way back, when stumbled across a chiller cabinet full with Red Bull drinks. She immediately remembered still not answering Evgenia.
Why did she get reminded of it while seeing energy drinks? Evgenia happened to have an unhealthy love for them. Especially close to competitions and on competition day, having them instead of breakfast. Or coffee. Energy drinks and coffee, two things she consumed the most.
Ami 🎤: *photo of a chiller cabinet full of Red Bull energy drinks*
Zhenya 💅: Omg, that's heaven
Zhenya 💅: But don't think I forgot about what you told yesterday. Still waiting.
Ami 🎤: Actually, that was nothing. I just wanted to tease you
Zhenya 💅: No no no, I saw you post, and read comments
Zhenya 💅: Tell the truth, remember I have Johnny.
Ami 🎤: Low blow.
Amaliya shook her head and walked back to the table, or rather to her dad who stood by it, and then after him she left the restaurant in the hospitality area.
Zhenya 💅: Still waiting
Ami 🎤: For nothing. I was just driven around the track by a driver, that's all
Zhenya 💅: And you were sitting in complete silence 🙄
Ami 🎤: No, but it was a normal conversation. He was just a little annoyed I wasn't scared, so he took me on a second lap, but I still didn't scream
Zhenya 💅: You could have pretend a little, his poor ego will remember it forever
Ami 🎤: 😂
Zhenya 💅: But was he like... You know, nice, funny or anything?
Ami 🎤: A normal, chill guy.
There was a silence from Evgenia's side for a long time and she was confused. Every time three dots appeared and just a moment later disappeared. What she was thinking about, that she couldn't utter?
Finally, an answer came. And she didn't know if she should burst out laughing, cry or just blush and shove her phone into the pocket, not answering anymore.
Zhenya 💅: After a consultation with Johnny, we think you're lying.
Zhenya 💅: Answer us
Zhenya 💅: I remind you we saw your post AND comments
Ami 🎤: People in the comments shipped me with my brother, because they didn't know we are related
Ami 🎤: But if you have to know...
She kept her in suspense for a few moments, before adding bluntly:
Ami 🎤: He is just a normal, kind guy, who likes to joke a little
She saw three dots appear instantly, but didn't wait anymore, putting the phone back in the pocket and focusing back on spending this time in the best way with her dad.
Also, she already knew Evgenia will interrogate her when she comes back to Moscow.
Meanwhile, Max once again opened her post and scrolled through the comments. He rarely commented, but this time did, hoping for... Okay, he doesn't exactly know what he was hoping for. Starting a conversation? In the comments? Sure. Perfect place. Reminding her of him? He's in one of the photos, that's enough of a reminder.
'It was fun'.
'Told you'.
That's all? There is no room for answer there. Everything ended even before it started.
And she didn't even follow him. What is the meaning of this? Why not?
He clicked back to her profile. Profile picture probably from some campaign, too professionally taken. And bio.
Amaliya Svetlanova-Berlusconi
Figure Skater, Miss Triple-A
JGPF 🥇🥈
Junior Worlds 🥇🥈
GPF 🥇🥈🥈
Worlds 🥇🥈🥈
Europeans 🥇🥇🥈
And contact info below. Quite the achievements, he had to admit, even if he had no idea what competition is 'GPF'. Or what 'Miss Triple-A' means. Is that a nickname?
He will check all of these later.
* * *
The weekend passed way too fast. Even if she wasn't there out of interest, she still enjoyed it. Well, she probably would prefer most things over inevitably going back to training, which is probably going to be even harder as the Olympic season gets closer and closer.
She had to break in new skates and this alone made her not want to come to the training complex. But she knew she had to, and she was already there. Just a few steps away from the entrance, skating bag over her shoulder, taking slow steps, as she still had some time when she glanced at her phone.
She sighed loudly, deciding to finally make it inside, but when she raised her head, she saw her mother standing there.
"What are you doing here?" Amaliya asked immediately, a sharp edge to her tone.
"I was worried about you. How are you doing? Where do you live? You don't answer calls nor texts"
I didn't tell you where I live, so you won't descend on me like you do right now.
She wasn't buying that fake concern even for a moment.
"I was tired." that was only half-lie, as she was truly a bit tired, as she was never able to sleep during flights. In a car? Sure. But in a plane? Never. Even if she was dead on her feet.
"Oh, sweetie... You know you can–"
"What do you want from me?" she cut her mother off and switched the conversation towards the point – even though she herself hadn't seen it. "Money? Forget it– Or no, you know what?" she reached into her bag, taking the wallet out, and out of it a banknote. She threw it at Anna. "Treat yourself with some nice vodka and don't bother me anymore."
"How dare you speak to me like that?" Anna was furious, yet she picked the cash from the pavement.
"How dare you follow me as if we have some unfinished business?"
"If not me, you wouldn't have the money you dare to throw in my face!" Anna raised her voice, which only provoked Amaliya further. Won't be the first time they have a heated argument.
"Oh, and what did you do? Force me into fulfilling your dreams? Broke up the family? Spent money on pleasures?" she said with a condescending tone. She couldn't help it, but took pleasure from her mother's anger, when after all these years, she finally may get back at her.
"I was toiling on two shifts to make a living for us!"
"If you hadn't been squandering dad's money, you wouldn't have had to! You think I don't know? He sent money for our life here. Enough to pay for the apartment, my sport, and our living here. But instead of that, you spent it on designer handbags, clothes, and shoes! On hairdressers! On beauticians! And me?! I had to borrow skates from girls who had just finished training because mine were broken! Or skate in broken-down ones! Have you forgotten that's how my problems with ankle started? My first injury? Which would never have happened if I'd got new skates!"
Amaliya had to hold back really hard, in order to not fully scream at her mother in front of the training complex. The last thing she wanted was for someone to get involved in this. Or seeing her in such a state, remembering all the bad things that happened to her because of her supposed to be mother.
"From then on, dad paid for our apartment in advance and paid directly to the club to make sure the money went to my training. What was left was for food, and that's when your problems began, because you couldn't buy things!" Amaliya continued, and couldn't hold it back any longer. As she was forcing herself not to scream, she eventually started laughing without even a shadow of humour, throwing her arms up. "That's when you went to work to afford those rags!" she reached and tugged at her mother's blouse.
"You have no right to call me out on it when you're dressed like that!" in answer, Anna tugged at Amaliya's jacket, which also wasn't from a common store.
"I do, because I earned these things myself!" she pushed Anna away. "I paid for them with hard work, labour, no friends outside the club, and my health! I'll spend them on whatever I want, and you'll never see them again! I won't support you, your whims, and your alcoholism! And neither will dad!"
"Your father didn't give a damn about you!"
"How dare you?! It's because of you that I grew up practically without a father and brother!" she felt tears gathering in her eyes, though she couldn't say if those were tears of anger or sadness, when she remembered about all the lost time.
"You don't say!" Anna spit ironically. "But you still treat them better than me! You take your father to a Formula One weekend, I wonder what your little brother will get from you on his birthday. And me?! You never gave me anything!"
"If your own child doesn't even give you a birthday card, that should give you pause!" Amaliya took a step towards her and jabbed her chest with an index finger. "And don't bother me or dad ever again." she wasn't screaming anymore, but it was even worse, because her tone was colder than the ice rink she was heading to.
"What did you tell him? Hm?"
Oh, she dared to be upset? Offended? That she might not be able to use Matteo's feelings anymore? How much more twisted can a person be?
"The truth. I can't wait for him to finally find someone worthwhile, someone who will love him, not his money." she said and took a step away, heading to the entrance. Suddenly she couldn't wait to go to training.
"No... Amunia, don't say that... I'm your mom! You can't leave me!"
You're so pathetic.
But she stopped. And turned, remaining silent for a few long seconds, just looking at her with a mix of pity, disgust and regret of all that could be but never was.
"The only thing you've done for me that I can thank you for, is giving birth to me. I don't care what happens to you." saying this felt liberatingly and cruelly at the same time. Somewhere deep inside, she still had a pang of sympathy for her, just because she was her mother. It felt so unfair she had to feel it. "I won't lift a finger, even if you're starving, freezing on the street, or begging for money for meds. I hate you and I don't want you in my life."
"If not me, you'd be no one!" Anna took a step, and then Amaliya moved even closer to the entrance, her hand already going to the handle.
"Or in a different sport." she shrugged. "Or at university. Or maybe starting my own brand? We will never know, because you chose for me." she opened the door and walked in.
"Because you have to start early in this sport! Amalka, stop! Come back right now!"
Amaliya didn't come back. Didn't even look over her shoulder. She had to go on training, clear her thoughts from all this mess her mother brought, or she'll go crazy. Everything was so well until she saw her.
She knows she's a bad person, and doesn't deserve her family. But that unfair attachment that was there, just because she's the one who brought her into the world – and shared a few nice memories, she couldn't ignore that detail – was annoying her.
She has to completely cut off from her. The sooner the better.
She didn't even look at her phone when notification came, somehow assuming it's Anna, even though she muted her long ago.
@ maxverstappen1 started following you.
Max Verstappen x OC!fem!figureskater
~not much knowledge required, OC explains things to Max as he was never into figure skating, so you'll understand too <3
-> Description + Prologue
-> Chapter II ''Mother not mom''
-> This fanfic's masterlist
-> General masterlist
Chapter I ''Another one''
Amaliya was going through the airport, dragging a suitcase behind her. Her gaze glued to her phone, as Zhenya teased her about some guy from their skating club, who seemed to have his eye on her. She was in the middle of writing an answer, managing the phone with one hand and trying to write a reply, and was suddenly interrupted by the message from her dad.
Papa 💚: *a photo of Amaliya walking through the airport*
She immediately looked up from her phone and around. It wasn't hard to spot her dad, as he stood out with his height slightly over two meters.
Matteo Berlusconi was a retired player of the Italy men's national team. He played a role in the team winning many international titles, including two Olympic silver medals. And recently her older brother, Leonardo, also got to the national team. She couldn't be happier for him (maybe she could, if he didn't drink so much when they finally met to celebrate, and she barely dragged him back to the hotel).
The thing is, both her dad and brother are really hard to miss with how tall they are. Yet still, her dad was first to spot her. Probably because she was too busy texting her friend back, to actually look around. Somehow she forgot she'll get here much later than him.
She quickly typed Zhenya that she'll answer later and shoved the phone in her jacket's pocket, and almost ran towards her dad.
Because he's so tall and Amaliya barely over one hundred sixty centimeters, hugs with dad always felt like in childhood. When he brought her close to his chest, how she felt she might hide in him and the world around meant nothing.
Despite living in Moscow with mother since she was three, she grew to be closer with her dad and brother than mother. Especially when she got old enough to understand things and get irritated and Anna's actions.
And maybe because her time with dad and brother was so limited, she cherished it so much more than she ever cared for time with mother.
"Why do I feel like you get smaller every time we meet?" he said, ruffling her hair lovingly.
"You think that because I'm taller in skates." she rolled her eyes, gently pushing his hand away.
The truth was, she probably was a bit smaller, but not like he probably thought. She lost a few hundred grams since they last saw each other. It wasn't so visible, but that's the only thing that could have him confused.
Or maybe just because they seldom see each other.
"Still taller than your mom."
He was the only one who still spoke about Anna like this. Amaliya and Leonardo most often chose to not speak about their other parent, but if they had to, they were very serious about it, 'Mother'. Never 'mom', 'mommy'. Not how a child should speak about its parent. And between each other sometimes even used her name.
"Can we go?"
They went out, grabbing some coffee on the way - she was slowly turning into Evgenia, with how much coffee she consumpted on a daily basis.
Outside the airport, her dad led her to the place where he parked the car he rented for the weekend. She couldn't say what it was, besides that it was black and pretty. Enough for her. She doesn't have a-
"How's your driving license?"
-driving license anyway. Yeah... She knew that question was coming, but didn't expect it so quickly. They got her suitcase to the trunk and she managed to get on the passenger seat, and that's the first thing she heard.
"I told you I'm doing it after the next season. Now I have to focus on the Olympics, not some badge that will let me drive around. And I don't really need it, I live near the training complex."
"You'd have already done it or be close to the end." she rolled her eyes at these words. "You'll put it off for after the next season, and the next season, and-"
"Okay okay, I got the hint. But it's only Leo's fault, because he didn't let me try in his precious car. As if I wouldn't be much more delicate with it than he is." she explained herself while fastening the belt.
Oh, Leo loved his cars. The ones he got from dad on his eighteen birthday – also the day when he got the license – and on making it to the national team, and the first one he bought himself... And he wouldn't let her try it.
"I said I can teach you, if you want to try before going to the course."
She also knew that line was coming.
"Oh no no, you'll judge me." she said immediately, looking outside the window at Vienna, when Matteo drove and they were slowly getting further and further away from the airport.
"I won't say anything!"
"It's just the look, dad." she turned on the seat and looked at him closely, despite the fact that he could only glance at her at the red light. "That's enough to make me feel like the biggest disappointment in the room."
"I'm sorry." he said, but couldn't keep a straight face, as her complaint amused him. "So... How's your new place?"
She was thankful that he didn't push on the driving license. Though her peace was probably only temporary, because she had a feeling that this talk will lead to the topic of her mother either way.
"Everything done – well, I hope I didn't forget about anything. Already had a sleepover with Zhenya, so... Great."
"And how did mom take your moving out?"
There it is. And she's already getting irritated, and she absolutely will not hold back her nerves, nor opinions on this topic. No matter how much she loves dad and doesn't want to make him feel bad, especially just before his birthday.
"Not happy. But been like this since my money is mine." she shrugged, eyeing at him, to see how he reacts.
"You grew so quickly, mostly raised by her, try to be understanding."
"What kind of pathetic excuse is that?" Amaliya scoffed. "When will you finally divorce her? You don't even speak with each other!"
"We do. Sometimes..."
"When she asks for money?" she crossed her arms and sank more into the seat. She had to look out of the window, to not get irritated more or break at the look on his naively hopeful face.
When Anna left with daughter to Moscow – after a long fight over it – you couldn't say they were in a bad position, barely living or anything else like that. Ama's dad sent money so they would live comfortably. And it wasn't a small amount, as figure skating was not a cheap sport, especially when you go to a school like Sambo-70. And when you're not sponsored by the country or any company.
But somehow, it was never enough. And Amaliya knew exactly why: her mother loved luxury just as much as the thought of her daughter becoming an Olympic champion one day, in a sport she always dreamed of but never could do.
But her life led her to a great volleyball player falling for her and marrying her. Sometimes Amaliya would wonder if those were the best years in her mother's life. When she was spoiled rotten and enjoying attention.
"Don't speak like that about your mom. We just have a hard time, we will get through it. That's how-"
She already knew what he was going to say: 'That's how love works'. Except that she highly doubted her mother ever had any feelings for him. For his money? Fame? Sure. Was she aware of his feelings? Surely, he laid things straight. And she was vile enough to use them. And here they were now.
Him – hopelessly in love, believing problems will eventually get solved.
Her – knowing damn well she will never get back together with him, but enjoying how she could keep him so devoted to her despite the years and distance.
But his money wasn't always enough. Especially when there was a period when he got mad at her... And things were no longer so colourful.
"But she doesn't love you. And she could no longer pretend when you weren't optimistic about moving to Russia so I can train."
Amaliya once was deeply in thought about whether her mother loved her at all or was she only the tool to fulfill Anna's childhood dreams. She couldn't be sure of that, but the other thing was obvious for her – her mother preferred her over Leo.
When Ama was still little, she'd push so much on leaving Italy and moving to Russia, so Ama can become a great figure skater. What absolutely didn't matter, was the fact that Leo at this time was already training and enjoying volleyball. And their dad would gladly guide him through the path he once walked.
Anna didn't like it.
"One day, when you fall in love, you'll understand." he said finally, his tone a little sharper, wanting to end this discussion – despite that he was the one who started it. He regretted that. Hoped, that maybe finally someone will take his side. But no. Both of his children continued to tell to give up on their mother, divorce her and don't waste any more time and money on her.
Amaliya didn't say anything else. She herself was a little sad, that she once again made her dad miserable. She couldn't help but hope that eventually the scales will fall from his eyes and he'll choose himself and his own happiness. God, maybe even meet someone new? There surely were many women who would treat him much better. And she knows he would give all of himself back.
"How are you before the next season?"
She breathed out quietly, thankful he changed the topic.
"Polishing new programmes. There is still a little work with them. Then skating camp, then test skates... Typical, just with Olympic pressure."
"No, how are you feeling, not how things are."
Silence fell between them for a short while, when Amaliya didn't know what to say. How did she actually feel? To be completely honest: tired. And pressured. For two seasons the only major competition she won – beside qualifying events to the Grand Prix Final – were this year's European Championships.
Often she'd tell herself that it's nothing. She already got everything in her senior debut season. But it still sting, she skated to win, not for the sole joy of it. Also because those losses (if you see second places as a loss) were not entirely her fault. Yes, she sometimes missed a jump, triple axel to be precise. But she was pushing through an ankle injury. Also had a minor knee one, and almost broke an arm during the work to restore the jump.
Not to mean losing passion in the middle of her second season in seniors, when all her minor mistakes were called out or exaggerated, but her teammate's not. And her component score wasn't satisfying, but the more she tried the worse it was. If not for some things, she might have quit completely at some point. Luckily she's still here, positive about qualifying to the Olympic team.
"A bit stressed, but overall positive. Working on a new jump, so a few new bruises, but that's simply the process." she said finally, deciding to not make him unnecessary worry about her.
"Oh, you invented a new jump?" there was a joking edge in his voice. She smiled at it, it meant he's not gonna dig into the more nasty stuff.
"No." she chuckled shortly. "I see younger girls at the rink do quads, and I'm currently working on a quad toe. I still miss some rotation, but it's gonna be mine. Hopefully even before the Olympics. And then... Maybe more."
"You're just as masochistic as me."
She burst out laughing and pushed his shoulder, light enough to make sure they're not getting into an accident before they even arrive at their destination.
* * *
In the afternoon, when they arrived, even before checking in at the hotel, they went to pick up their passes. And that was the moment, her dad's eyes lit up like she never saw before. Not every fan has the opportunity to be one of the teams' guest for the weekend. He already knew he'll never bin this, that's gonna hang next to the medals – that statement had her laughing.
Friday was the day, when everything started to feel truly real. At least to Matteo, because Amaliya didn't have problems believing it since the moment she got a positive answer to her request. But that was probably because she wasn't really into it. To be honest, she simply wouldn't have two or more free hours to watch.
But her dad, oh... He loved yapping about it and she couldn't force herself to interrupt him when he did.
Especially when she happened to visit him on a day of a race. She sat on the couch, not really understanding or knowing who is who, but her dad gladly explained. Even used words she didn't even know existed.
And names. Lots of names that told her nothing, but yeah '...is eventually gonna be a champion, I'm telling you' or '...just has bad luck' or '...why is even driving?'. She just nodded, accepted and started tapping her nails against the armrest of the couch so she wouldn't reach for the phone.
Not that it was boring just... Okay, for her, not understanding what's going on and what team radios or commentators are talking about, it was a little. But she watched and admired like an elite athlete another athletes.
Also, she just enjoyed watching her dad happy. How he was smiling and looking everywhere, when they got a tour around the paddock.
The only bad part was that she didn't know how she's gonna beat this gift next year. Especially with the hot lap incoming.
That particular part got her interested too. It would probably excite most people, being driven around the track in a sports car by a professional racing driver, yet personally, she attributed it to the fact of being that 'masochist' as an athlete, and hungry for adrenaline.
Something like breaking another mind barrier. Like when going for a new jump or with more rotations, or restoring them after an injury. There is this rush of adrenaline alongside a bit of fear. And well, you either fall and hit the ice with your ass, hip or whatever, or land stable or somewhat stable. Frustrated and disappointed vs happy and excited. In either outcome: if you have strength left, you'll go for it again.
Despite being thrilled, she pushed her dad to go first. Meanwhile she stood aside and held her phone up, recording everything, to have this precious memory safe.
When the car was away, she didn't really pay attention to the people around her, instead scrolling through her Instagram, checking how her latest posts did. If someone came up to her and started talking, maybe even recognized her, she'd of course speak back. But she didn't really feel like socializing with those around her here.
Eventually her time was coming. Her dad, coming out of the car was smiling from ear to ear – though shaking a little, she noticed that. She could bet it for him it felt just as good as getting the olympic medal.
"You look around twenty years younger." she joked, putting on a helmet.
"Rather should be ten years older." he answered, but a smile wasn't getting out of his face. But even now, feeling like in a dream, he looked at his daughter and one of his first thoughts was to take out his phone and take pictures of her. Actually, he did that even before they walked through the gates. Not because she would ask him for some pictures either way, so she could post them later, but because he also wanted these memories to be safe. So he'll be able to look at the photos later and invoke this whole weekend.
And simply: he just loved her. His beloved little girl (doesn't matter she's an adult, she's still eight, with a little bun, telling him over video call she just landed triple salchow for the first time).
When she got into the car, she was immediately greeted with:
"You're that athlete?"
She didn't even have a chance to reach for the belt. She turned to her left and met a pair of blue eyes looking at her closely.
"No 'Hello', introducing yourself, 'How are you?', 'Your dad is a professional yapper'? Damn, what's going on with this world..." she mumbled, but in an obviously joking tone, maybe feeling a bit too comfortable for someone who is about to get pressed into the seat.
"Hello, Max Emilian Verstappen, how are you, and your dad is actually a nice conversation partner." he said and extended his hand toward her. A playful smile lingering at the corner of his lips.
"Amaliya Svetlanova-Berlusconi if we are being so precise." she took his hand and shook it, just after that finally reaching for the belt.
"Everything comfortable and secure?" he leaned a bit, reaching for the strap under her chin that's holding the helmet, to check in himself. "Belt fastened?"
"No, why would I?" she dragged the 'no' way longer than necessary, only adding to the sarcastic tone. "I'll just hold onto something."
"Actually, I'd like to see it." he answered after chuckling, and started the car. "So... What sport was it?"
Max asked it casually, so she couldn't know he wanted to keep up the conversation, despite the fact that she may have problems answering when the speed hits. He's rather simple and straightforward, and won't try to deny what he first thought when she turned to him: That's a pretty girl.
Amaliya looked nothing like her Italian dad. Her hair was light blonde, lonely strands styled in waves, the rest in a loose braid. Though when he looked at it, he could see another little braid braided into the bigger one. Her skin was paler, and her eyes weren't dark brown like Matteo's, but grey. Like, truly grey, standing out even more because of the mascara she put on her lashes.
That was the bare minimum she had to have anytime she left home or hotel: waterproof mascara, highlighter and lipgloss (dry lips are a serious thing at the rink). Okay, when she went on training she wasn't putting make-up on except for something to keep her lips moisturized. But other than that? Come on, she has to look good. It's important! That's one of the only things she agreed on with her mother.
"Figure skating." she answered shortly, not really helping the conversation to keep going.
"So you fall often?" Max teased, couldn't help it but wanted to rile her up a bit and see a reaction.
"Not more often than you crash."
I have no idea how often he crashes.
A sharp snap back, but he liked that.
"Oh, you're also a fan? I needn't have introduced myself."
"No. I have better things to do than watch cars ride in circles." she said that at the exact moment of the first turn and wasn't prepared for the invisible force to push her to the side.
"Such as?"
Okay, she didn't expect to hear a question, rather a long monologue about how it's actually not just riding in circles and there are much more layers to it. Obviously, she was aware of that from all the times her dad spoke about Formula One, but Max couldn't know that.
Well, unless her dad somehow thought it's a perfect thing to say.
"Currently? Training for the Olympics."
"Currently, we're riding in circles."
She was about to say something alongside with raising an index finger, but she caught herself not knowing what to say for a moment, and also her body moving to the side, because again she didn't focus to try and be ready for the G force.
"It's a day off, it doesn't count."
"You said you had better things to do-" Max couldn't help but smile at that exchange, even more, when she didn't let him finish.
"It's dad's birthday gift, so it's an exception." she interrupted him. "By the way, thanks for not killing him."
"And you? What about killing you?" he quickly added the second sentence, realising she might not understand what he meant.
"Me? Oh, if I die I'll simply haunt you. If he died, I'd have to take revenge and then probably face legal consequences. I prefer the first outcome."
Funny, how you can have a simple, teasing conversation while going much faster than on a superhighway. Not to mention the turns.
There was a moment of silence, before Max mentioned exactly those turns.
"You okay? Any nausea?"
"My labyrinthus is much stronger than that, don't worry."
He glanced at her quickly. She was taking it way too well. Not that he'd prefer to have her vomiting, absolutely not! Just... She was really calm, as if they were going back from a supermarket instead of entering corners at crazy speed in a supercar. Most were screaming from time to time, or at least visibly stressed despite enjoying it. She was... Just enjoying it. And teasing back when he tried to rile her up.
"Cocky." he answered shortly, again glancing at her.
"Oh, and who says that?" Amaliya also had to admit she enjoyed it. She expected she'll, but actually experiencing it was so good, much better than she thought. "You have to be a little cocky when you're about to perform with thousands of eyes watching you, judging, and throwing opinions, even if they don't know what they're talking about."
"You don't even know how aware I am of that."
"You sometimes scowl at the opponents?" she asked, genuinely curious of the answer. Yet before he could answer, she continued, giving a little background why she even asked that. "I was taught to do that. I have to devour them with my eyes, so they know who's going to take the medal."
"Yes, probably also unintentionally. But can't say I was taught that. It just comes." he hit the gas on the straight.
It took her only a moment to realise something.
"Weren't you supposed to stop?"
"You didn't scream." he shrugged, as if that was typical he would go for the second lap, instead of finishing after one, how he was supposed to. But the schedule wasn't that tight, so a bit over a minute won't hurt him nor race preparation.
"So you're kidnapping me?"
"Challenging your labyrinthus, yes."
Even if she didn't want to, she had to admit this second lap hit her harder than the first one, in the best way possible.
She might have screamed, but only at him to go faster.
Max Verstappen x OC!fem!figureskater
~not much knowledge required, OC explains things to Max as he was never into figure skating, so you'll understand too <3
-> Chapter III ''What is Triple–A?''
-> Chapter V ''Exploring''
-> This fanfic's masterlist
Chapter IV ''Getting comfortable''
Before Evgenia started interrogating her, they exchanged a few more messages. Amaliya tried to explain what a triple axel is and why it's hard, but eventually just texted him to check on Youtube, because she's done explaining and has to go to sleep.
Obviously, she didn't go to sleep.
To be honest, sleepover was a horrible idea, because when they finally decided to go to sleep, to not be dead tomorrow, always when one was about to fall asleep, the other said something. And just like that, instead of being tired from afternoon to evening, they were tired in the morning.
Soon she became constantly tired anyway.
As time passed and she was closer and closer to her first start of the season – Skate Canada – the training grew more intense. She had to grow accustomed to such intensity again, like every season. Not only her legs screaming at her, but whole body aching in the evenings and early mornings, before she warmed up.
Usually, in those times days just blended with each other, turned into weeks, and weeks into months and she found herself on a plane, then at a hotel and finally at the rink with lights and audience all directed at her.
This time it was a bit different. Why? Because there was someone who broke through her routine almost every day – later on, when there was a silent day, she'd text him herself.
Despite a pretty monotonous life just before the season (training – home – training – home), she was still active on her Instagram. Posted stories early in the morning, or in the middle of the day, at the lunch break, or at the evening stretching.
Max liked to answer those stories.
*photo of Amaliya's skates laid on the floor in the locker room*
Max: These look dead
She saw this after the training, after she took off skates and was wiping blades dry. Well... They kind of were. Scratches here and there around the boot, but mostly at the points. They weren't broken-down yet, and still supported her enough. She'd change them next week or two, to break in new ones before the competition, but not too early.
Amaliya: Because they almost are
Max: Almost?
Max: They look like they're falling apart
Amaliya: Still have support in all right places tho
Max: How do you tell if boots are done?
Amaliya: When you can easily squeeze them
Amaliya: *sent a video*
Instead of just saying – knowing he won't understand or will pretend he doesn't understand – she recorded a short film. She put one of the skates on her lap and gently squeezed the upper part of the boot and then tongue too, showing that they're still managing.
Max: Maybe you're just not strong enough to squeeze them
Amaliya: You don't use full force, just check if there is resistance when you try 🙄
Amaliya: Even in current state they're much tougher than you think
Max: Bet
She didn't have much time to text, just after that she quickly gathered some things, putting others in the locker for later, and went to the other area of the complex, to use her one hour break. To be honest, she felt like laying down and not getting up.
Just a little more and I'll be used to it again.
And she did. It made it a little easier, when she completely fell into that intense rhythm again. Repetition after repetition after repetition. But that's why they're the best, they work much more than others. That's all, no secret. You just get up, commit the whole day to training, make no unnecessary breaks like others, control your diet and you're gonna get it.
Sometimes she wondered what she would be doing if not skating and... She had no idea. She never thought she could do something else. Of course, she may speculate that maybe she'd be at university or creating her own brand, or maybe doing a different sport. But those were just speculations, not things that could be described as plan B, as something she'd pursue if skating didn't work.
At that point, it was like a personality, inseparable part of her – or maybe more than a part. After all, she did it since she remembered. Day after day after day. When she made it through the really hard period for her, 2015/16 season, when she felt it all is pointless and she hates it, she knew can't give up. If she made it that far, she has to go to the Olympics. Who is she without it?
Different day, different week, already in new skates, she posted a short video.
@ amaliya.svetlanova
*a video of Amaliya doing 3A+3Lo combo*
You asked for some skating videos, so here I am to deliver. First day with new skates, ready for the upcoming season 💪
– HOW girl, I can't walk in new edea pianos 😭
⤷ @ amaliya.svetlanova: I love their stiffness, also I break them in rather quickly
– I take it as a confirmation you're gonna do it in free skate
⤷ @ amaliya.svetlanova:🤫
– @ jmedvedevaj:Finally, old ones looked like they survived a war
⤷ @ amaliya.svetlanova: Now your turn, yours look like they survived two wars
When someone was writing the comment about taking breaks, she was doing that combo for the tenth time in a single on–ice session. Legs burning as if she was standing in fire, but mind satisfied that she got five successful attempts in a row. Not falls, not step–outs, just clean combos. Confidence boost, that's what made it worth it.
And the answer she got from Max after that post, when she checked her phone in the evening, when she got out of the shower.
Max: That's the one people freak about?
She was drying her hair with a towel when reading this and smiled to herself.
Ama: You learned to tell apart jumps?
Max: Just yours, Miss Triple-A. It's literally only one that's different from others
She rolled her eyes and put her phone on the washbasin for a moment, to take the dryer from the cabinet and plug it in. When she turned it on, she picked up the phone again, texting back slower, with just one hard.
Ama: They're not, there's probably thousands of videos explaining it
Max: Still don't see the difference
Yes, he was teasing her. He didn't look it up, he wanted her to explain it to him, so he can get more contact with her.
Also, it was surely annoying her, just like when she teases him about riding in circles. Just a little, sweet revenge.
Ama: ...
After a few moments since he had seen, she added:
Ama: I'll make you a tutorial if I find time tomorrow
Full success.
Because of course she found time to do it. Worth mentioning, that she deliberately got up earlier to be at the ice rink when there is no one (or almost no one) there yet. She even brought her small wireless microphone, so she could explain on the fly.
Amaliya was actually quite excited to do it, but tried not to show it. First she showed the most basic stuff needed to understand jumps, meaning the structure of blades. Inside and outside edge. Then said there are two types of jumps, toe and edge jumps. And skated on to show each one, mentioning that most of the time they differentiate jumps looking at the entrance.
When she watched that video later, during her break, she decided she looked too happy about explaining, as if she did only for him – which she basically did. But to admit it? No.
So she posted it on her Instagram, writing in the caption that because the new season is close, and it's gonna be an Olympic season, so probably many new fans got here, let's break down all jumps in figure skating together.
Max texted her that okay, they're different, but no way in hell he'd recognize them in real time. But she was right, and is a very good teacher.
Much later, after a bad day when many things didn't work out and she almost cried because of her coach and pain from falls, she was sitting on the bed with crossed legs and scrolling through their messages. So light, teasing, normal. Completely out of her world, let her turn it off a little. She even forgot about the ice she held against her hip.
All of her friends were from this circle, and then there was Max. Asking questions that never even went through her head, that's how obvious for her they were. Praised when she posted some jump on spin – which sometimes she did just to read a few good words after hearing many bad from her coaches. Teased her, like when he asked if she even falls sometimes, he needs proof she's human – and then she'd send a video of an unsuccessful jump and they laughed about it, instead of the scolding she got earlier in the day, for smaller things.
Sometimes he was saying things she didn't even know what could mean, then she quickly googled them and pretended she understood. Or when she was too tired for that, she'd write something like: 'Do I look like your race engineer? Or anyone else from the team?'.
And then he proceeded to explain to her.
And she read. Even when her eyes were closing from tiredness, she forced herself to stay up until he finished, smiling to herself. It was kind of cute when he was speaking about things so passionately.
That's when voice messages came.
Because sometimes it was easier and quicker to speak than text.
That's how she once found herself listening to the ten minute long voice message while stretching.
Or while brushing teeth.
Or tying up skates.
Or just frowning very hard while trying to understand anything, because noise of people and cars and other stuff drowned out his voice very well.
Ama: I understood absolutely nothing, and I'm not even speaking about terminology that probably was there
He sent a voice message once again, and again she understood completely nothing. Besides maybe her name or its diminutive, she wasn't sure.
Ama: Max, either get a microphone, or keep that damn phone next to your mouth, or find a quiet place, OR WRITE IT. 🤬
Again. I'm going to kill him.
"Do I have to spell it out for you? I. Don't. Fucking. Understand. A. Single. Word!" she recorded her own message, making sure to accent every word, so he knows she's annoyed.
Max: I don't want to write it all, it'll take too long
Ama: Then learn to type quicker or accept I don't know what you spoke about
Max: About my day, what managed to annoy me already and how was your day
Ama: I fell and now have a bruise in the shape of South America
Max: You can't say such things and then don't show it
Ama: Goodnight!!! 😙
Max: ...
Max: Rude.
Max: Come back
Max: I see you read it.
Max: ...
Max: *sent a voice message*
She couldn't help but laugh, listening to his exaggerated, playful rage at her. It was so good she had to do it three times.
And of course didn't text anything when she finished laughing.
But it's alright, he was laughing too.
* * *
Eventually came this moment, when she sat on the edge of the bed and a suitcase was laying in front of her on the floor. She has a flight tomorrow, the first start of the season so soon. End of October. Just the beginning for her, but may influence her confidence if it goes bad.
Amaliya was about to get up and start packing things, but then her phone buzzed. She looked at the screen, 'Idiot'. What Leo wants from her right now and why won't he just text? But despite her reluctance, she picked up.
"What?" she murmured, laying down on the bed.
"Hello headache, have a moment?"
He called just like in their chat. He once changed it, when decided she's the reason for all his headaches. So then she changed his nickname, simply to 'Idiot'. And Leonardo dared to call her uncreative, but she didn't change it. She said it fits him so much it could be his second name.
"I'm tired, but sure."
"You're always tired." he said it in a pretty light tone, but then she heard him sigh. "Are you alright?"
"Just training." she shrugged even though he couldn't see it.
"I'm also training, but I'm not constantly tired."
"You just always call me when I'm either after training or about to go to sleep."
That wasn't true, but Leo couldn't know it (at least for sure). Well, at least not always true. During the off-season, she sometimes would lie to him that she's just after training for a show and that's why she sounds tired, or would put on an act that everything is alright.
But now? You could say she was always after training. Everyone would be constantly tired, especially while eating like she did, to stay light.
"I'm just worried about you, sis."
"The pressure is getting at me a bit, that's all, I promise." she cleared her throat, feeling uncomfortable and wanting to change the topic as quickly as possible. "Why did you call?"
"Mother called dad when I was visiting. He was pretty excited, said they're getting back together."
She groaned and closed her eyes, grabbing the bridge of her nose with free hand. That was exactly what she did not need just before the start of the season.
"That poor idiot..." she murmured. "Don't tell him I said that." she sighed, gathering her thoughts for a moment, before asking: "And what am I supposed to do with it?"
"You're daddy's girl, he will listen to you." Leo said, as if it was that easy. As if he wasn't the one growing up with their dad and knew the situation much better, because he actually remembered how it was when she and mother left for Russia. Damn, he was the one who told her about it!
"No. He changes topics or tells me I'll understand when I fall in love myself. I bet even if she herself told him she doesn't love him, he wouldn't believe it."
"But I can't just sit and watch how she uses him again."
"I can't either, but what can we do?! He's an adult, this is his life, and is visibly helplessly in love. Nothing I say will change it."
Actually, there might be one thing that could change it. If she told him how her training looks, what he has been through.
Said all the truth not only about her ankle, but from the very beginning.
How getting to this level of performing looked like.
How many times she cried, how she has been on her last legs leaving the training complex.
How she's been weighing herself every day (sometimes multiple times) since she remembers, because everyone tells her she has to keep it low or she won't be able to perform how she does, do jumps so well and consistently. She remembered she once freaked out when she saw not the same, not smaller, but bigger number.
Next day she ate more vitamin pills and this kind of stuff than actual food. And numbers came back to normal. She was calm again.
How she missed periods more than had them. How she basically sacrificed everything for this sport, her whole childhood, her health.
And it's just going to turn out if it was worth it. This season. One competition deciding how she's gonna feel with everything.
She faintly remembered her little self, how she was complaining to her mother that it's all horrible, how she doesn't like going there, that people constantly scold her for something. And she's tired, so tired. And hungry. And just can't do it.
And Anna? She waved it off, saying that's normal, that's elite sport.
So she grew thinking that's normal. And still, whenever she questions it there is a voice in her head that says: 'But we succeed. We never lost to anyone outside the team. So it works. They all were right. Others don't push through pain, injuries, tiredness, and where are they? Behind you'.
She knew this would probably do it. It could open her dad's eyes, help him finally free himself from Anna. But Amaliya would have to open herself. To – metaphorically – stand naked and he'd pity her. She'd hate it.
And even worse: try to take her out of here. In the most important moment.
No. She can't. She won't make anyone worry, instead they'll be proud.
"And how she spent money that was supposed to be for your training on her clothes and other shit?" Leo suggested, but her thoughts were already somewhere else.
And besides being tired, she was now also annoyed."We both know he knows it. But is willing to forgive her the moment she bats her eyelashes at him." she answered, sitting up. "But now I think she'd rather buy vodka than clothes." she finally forced herself to get up. She put the phone on speaker and went to the wardrobe.
"Or both." Leo sighed deeply again, looking for something, anything, to talk her sister into helping with it. He didn't have any proof, but by how she acted – and maybe sibling intuition – he knew she was hiding something. That she could do something, but chose not to. "You're there, you can talk to her. She doesn't pick up from me."
"I finished with her. What could I do anyway? Steal her documents?" she scoffed, taking training clothes out of the wardrobe and walking with them back to the suitcase.
"No, but surely someth–"
"Then send me a plan, word by word what I'm supposed to say – and do – and I'll think about it." she hung up before he could answer.
Amaliya huffed with irritation once again and decided to focus on packing. She walked to the wardrobe and back to the suitcase a few times, before sitting on the floor with a loud groan, when she couldn't help but replay that conversation in her head and think about her dad.
She looked at her phone. Leo didn't text anything. He probably felt he irritated her and it's better not to try to reach her again right now.
As she couldn't focus, she did the first thing that came to her mind, that would surely distract her. A few months ago it would scrolling instagram mindlessly and asking Evgenia for any new gossip, but right now it was something – someone – else.
She opened her chat with Max and snapped a photo of an open suitcase with a few things put inside. Because yes, besides voice messages, they were now sending each other photos too.
It started when he was listening to one of his voice messages, and suddenly there was a sound of glass breaking. And then he said: 'Fuck! Sorry, Sass just knocked over a glass...'.
Ama: Who is Sass?
She quickly typed, genuinely curious. Because it can't be-
Or can it?
Max: My cat, Sassy
Ama: YOU HAVE A CAT AND DIDN'T TELL ME?!
Max: Two cats
Ama: YOU HAVE TWO CATS AND DIDN'T TELL ME?! SHOW ME!!!
If something could make her speak in a higher pitch and be all soft, it would be little kids and pets, especially cats.
If her mother was different, she'd talk her into taking a cat or two, but instead she has Johnny.
And those were the first photos on their chat. First Sassy, sitting on the kitchen counter as if she didn't just knock over a glass because she wanted attention. And then a frame of Jimmy, sleeping on the couch, blissfully unaware of the drama. Photos from his gallery followed, because of course he has a separate folder for photos of cats.
Then it just... Happened. Sometimes a photo from the paddock, a sunset over track. She'd answer with photo of Moscow at night, or from the rink, or morning coffee – that's how she learned he doesn't like coffee:
Max: How can you drink it?
Ama: I have to wake up somehow
Max: Bleh
Ama: Oh, come on 😂
Max: 🤢
Ama: That bad? 😥
Ama: And tea?
Max: I try to, but it's simply awful
Ama: You really rely on Red Bull, huh?
Max: And water. And other drinks that are not hot
Ama: One day I'll make you a very good tea, trust me, you'll love it
Max: I highly doubt it, but okay, I won't kill your dreams
Amaliya herself really liked tea, probably even more than coffee, so she was ready to record a long voice message about how good tea is and how he probably just didn't drink the right one. Of course everything in the tone of fake outrage.
Now she sat in front of her suitcase and waited for him to read her message. One minute, two, five, ten, twenty... She sighed heavily and was about to put down her phone, assuming that he's busy with some racing stuff, but then she saw it. Read.
Max: What competition is it?
He asked, despite that he remembered very well where she's going.
Ama: Skate Canada, part of Grand Prix series. And I reeeaaly don't want to pack right now
Max: You have to eventually do it
Ama: I hoped for support, not realism
Max: Okay, let's be delusional. Things will pack themselves
She laughed softly, already writing a response.
Ama: Thank you
There was a moment of silence on the chat, and for a moment she was scared he already left, so she quickly thought of something, anything, to write, to get him back. But then she saw three dots and sighed with relief.
Max: It gets broadcasted or something?
Max: Competition, I mean
She raised an eyebrow reading it. Why was he asking? He suddenly decided to start being a figure skating fan?
Ama: Yeah, on TV and YouTube, ISU channel
Ama: Why, you're gonna watch?
Max: Not whole competition. Just you. When do you skate?
Just you.
Somehow it went straight to her heart, she paused mid–breath, hand tightening on the phone. He wasn't into this, yet because that's what she did – and they seemed to be acquaintances, or even friends, by now – he was asking her, trying to understand. And now willing to spend his free time – if he even has free time then, she has no idea – watching her perform. Because it's her.
Now she felt a bit bad that she hadn't shown the same interest in his world. Yet it quickly became an escape from her world, pressure, tiredness, pain. She was wondering how she managed to go on on her own through all these years, without having such an escape.
Maybe her brother previously had this role? Now she didn't want to talk with him, at least for today, so there was no one.
It was different also because they have seen each other only once. All of the relationship for now evolved through Instagram.
It was safe. He didn't ask why she looks skinnier. Didn't see her pushing food around the table. She didn't have to lie so much, to make sure he doesn't worry about her. He didn't know about her problems with mother.
It was relaxing.
Ama: Friday short program, Saturday free skate, Sunday just exhibition. I'm skating last. I don't know what hour it will be for you, you have to check yourself
Amaliya was about to write that he doesn't have to watch if he isn't interested, that later surely they'll upload videos from every performance if he's stubborn and really wants to watch. But then three dots appeared again, so she waited.
Max: It's a race weekend, but know I'm cheering on you even if I'm not able to watch live
She didn't hesitate for a moment before answering:
Ama: I'm cheering on you too, even though I don't understand
But she couldn't stop herself from just a little bit of teasing:
Ama: Enjoy riding in circles <3
Max Verstappen x OC!fem!figureskater ~not much knowledge required, OC explains things to Max as he was never into figure skating, so you'll understand too <3
-> Chapter V ''Exploring''
-> Chapter VII ''The plushie''
-> This fanfic's masterlist
Chapter VI ''Another step''
Despite their playful argument about double standards, Max obviously watched her free skate and as soon as the result came, he texted her congratulations on the win.
But the teasing about her gala performance remained.
Amaliya posted a carousel of photos from the event: from both short and free program, the podium, and selfie with other skaters who got a medal. It was the first post of hers since the Austrian Grand Prix one (where he was on a selfie with her), which he liked. Of course her fans didn't miss that, and she noticed it even faster than them.
Just as she was scrolling through the comments, she got a message from him.
Max: Now tell me what's the gala program
She burst out laughing. Oh, so that's why he left a like. As if it was supposed to bribe her into telling him.
Ama: Really? For a like?
Max: Two likes?
Ama: You aren't patient, are you?
Max: And you?
Amaliya put the phone away for a moment and started to debate whether to give him a little hint or not. She loves to tease, but she has to give him something to keep him interested.
Eventually, she decided to give a small hint. She took out dress for the gala performance and grabbed the hem of it. Just a little bit of pink material in contrast with her blonde hair, and she took a photo of this combination. Then – proud as if she has just won the Olympics – send it to him.
Max: That's all I get?
Max: You know, If I knew what it is, It could give me motivation to go faster and finish, to watch as quick as I can
Ama: Not knowing isn't motivating?
Max: Is, but also frustrating
After a few moments, another message came.
Max: If it's boring I'll unfollow you
She raised an eyebrow at that empty threat.
Sure, followed her first, started texting first, and is gonna unfollow her if the gala performance is boring?
She enjoyed that relationship a little too much.
Ama: Oh no, please don't, what will I do
Ama: People will immediately notice and start calling us their divorced parents
For a moment, when he saw that message but didn't answer, she was afraid she went a little too far with that 'divorced parents' joke.
Of course it was stupid. Why did she write it? It surely crossed a line and he's now confused.
Oh my God, I'm so embarras–
Max: Damn, I forgot our anniversary?
Amaliya let out a really deep breath, when she realised she didn't fuck up as she thought she did.
And he actually went along with the joke!
He'd surely tell her if what she texted was wrong, so playing along... He must have been thinking about what to answer, that's why it took so long.
Ama: Looks like that 😔
Max: Sorry darling, I'll make it up to you
It was only a stupid joke over the text, but she still felt a little blush creeping on her cheeks. If she wasn't sitting crossed legs on the bed, she'd surely kick her feet involuntarily.
Max: We should fix that time zone and distance things at some point anyway
That actually made her stop for a moment, and she raised a hand to her mouth. She had to reread it twice.
He wants to meet, to see her again. It may not be a date and place, but an intention, and with such tight schedules? It means a lot.
Amaliya quickly screenshoted it, thinking about sending it to Evgenia right now, but then realised it's maybe not the best idea. She'll think too much, when it's just teasing. Well, not the meeting part– Ugh.
Then she groaned. Not only because of her idea of sending a screenshot to her friend, but also at how impossible seeing each other was right now. He has his races, his own duties, and she is just at the beginning of an Olympic season. She won't be free until after the Worlds. There is absolutely no way she could make time between competitions and training. Sometimes it's even hard to text, and she suddenly finds herself with many unread messages.
The realisation came to her: They have never talked on the phone. Not a single call. Photos, videos, voice messages, but never a call.
Probably also due to the schedules, but right now it looked like the only option for a 'normal' conversation.
But obviously she won't randomly text: 'Let's call each other'.
Ama: Good luck with finding a date
Max: I could come to grand prix final
Max: Or after, to Moscow
Her eyes widened as she read that. He had already thought about the date. He checked the dates and found a moment when they could meet.
There was just one problem, and it was white boots with knives attached at the bottom. Training was always harsh, harsher than in other teams, and left her tired, but this season was different. Because the Olympics were closer and closer, looking more like a monster they were preparing themselves to fight than a competition that was supposed to be one of the greatest moments of their careers, something to be proud about by simply going there.
Instead it was a goal put in front of her since she could remember, and not just going there, because who cares about people who 'just go there' and don't win anything? Only gold is worth anything, and she felt insanely scared and pressured the closer the Olympics were, that she won't be good enough to win. And what then? How will she come back home? And if she doesn't win anything? Shame.
Or maybe she was telling herself that was the only problem.
Because there was also another.
She didn't want him to see her like that.
Tired, a complete mess, dying on her feet, just wanting to sleep but at the same time not, because when she gets up she'll have to start another hard day. If they meet when she's like that, he'll remember her like that. At least until their next meeting, that will be God knows when. Right now? Right now he knows her from that Grand Prix she was at with her dad – where she was rather calm, looking pretty, enjoying the weekend – from her Instagram – where she obviously controlled what she posted – and their messages.
It better stays like that.
Ama: Well, I'm glad, but I have no life. Literally
Ama: It's olympic season, my life is literally training-home-training-home. And I'm physically and emotionally drained when I finally fall on a bed. And after competitions I have things to do and also end up extremely tired
Ama: I'm not free until after worlds
She stared at the messages she just sent and bit the inside of her cheek. She didn't want to sound like she doesn't want to see him and is looking for excuses.
Yes, she could find an hour or two, but it's not much, especially that she'd be on her last legs during that meeting.
Max: Focus on what you need to do
Her lips curved into a soft smile.
Max: No pressure, really. I understand very well
Now she felt a little bad that she didn't tell the whole truth. But he understood. He himself was facing hectic schedules, it would be strange if he didn't understand.
Being an elite athlete and taking part in all those competitions was great, alas, due to that private life was not.
But she definitely needed to see him after the Worlds.
* * *
It wasn't new for skaters to start their exhibition program in a bathrobe – or in other ways hiding their costume. But it always raises more interest in the audience, everyone waiting to see what's underneath.
Though, from the moment the song started playing, everyone knew they had to expect pink.
Barbie Girl.
Amaliya took off a white bathrobe mid–spin – during the part '...undress me everywhere' – showing off pink, shining with crystal dress. Considering that she had light blonde hair, she really looked like Barbie. Especially with how she was able to command attention.
Exhibitions were always more fun. Zero anxiousness about messing up, no points, just pure joy of skating and connecting with the crowd. She did just three jumps, one triple axel and one triple lutz–triple loop combo. Most of the performance was about steps, choreography. And a few spins, she loved spins. Hell, she enjoyed that whole program, it was her idea to use this song.
That vibe when competition was over, when they all could interact, was inimitable. Everyone chills out, for a moment forgetting that there is still much season and work in front of them. Sometimes even making some stupid jump battles at the end of the gala, refusing to leave the ice already. Yeah... Sometimes gala's didn't end at the hours they were supposed to.
And even then, the backstage was almost just as time consuming.
So by the time she was at the hotel, Amaliya was tired – in a positive way – not really doing much on that day, compared to other days.
She should be packing her things, those she took out of her suitcase for more than a dozen minutes. One glance at the suitcase and she quickly decided: later. She fell on the bed, legs against the wall and head down, phone in front of her face.
Damn, she wanted to check the results before watching the highlights. But then Max would be right about her not being able to resist.
Oh no, he won't have a moral ground over me. Jesus... It's so stupid.
Stupid, yet she sucked it up and didn't check the results. She'll watch the whole thing (or rather highlights...). There won't be any proof that she didn't check the leaderboard earlier, but well... She'll know! He's free to believe or not.
Just as she was about to finish, literally ten seconds left, and text Max, her phone suddenly rang. She dropped it with a curse and tilted her head more, pressing the button to answer the call, putting it on speaker. Her dad.
"Hi dad." her voice came out a little strained, as she was almost falling on the floor right now. She turned on the bed, trying to grab the phone and sit up at the same time, but it resulted in her falling off the bed.
"What's happening? Everything alright?"
"Yeah yeah, I just dropped my phone." she answered, laying on the floor on her back.
"I figured you'd already be finished with everything and called. You did wonderful, sweetie." Matteo said, pride clear in his voice.
"Oh, so you watched? Didn't collide with your F1 love?" she teased, a smirk coming on her face. She knew no matter what, he always made time to watch her performances.
Even when it collided with a Formula One race and volleyball match. She still has the photo he then sent her saved, TV, laptop and phone, different things on everything. She on the biggest screen, as he himself said: 'My girl before everything else'.
Well, maybe not before her brother. Then he'd bring two TVs.
"Gala did a little, but there are more than two screens at home, so it was easy." yeah, that's what she had just thought about. "That guy who drove us around, you remember him? Max Verstappen. He won."
"I know."
Amaliya realised what she had just done when it was too late. She felt so at ease with Max in her life, that she completely forgot that no one besides Evgenia knows she's casually texting with him. Not once did she mention it to her dad through all this time, and now she felt as if he caught her doing something illegal.
There was nothing bad about that of course, she was an adult, had her own life, could text with whoever she wanted. But... Something about the fact that her dad was a fan, they both met him, and that Max was a man, made her want to hide it. He'll start imagining things, and interrogation is the last thing she needs.
Especially that she never ever spoke about any boy she could possibly like – beside one, that possibly was after her, even changing the skating club, but she never really paid attention to him. So if anyone appeared? Questioning guaranteed. Especially about someone he knew.
"You... know?" there was a big suspicion in his tone. She could imagine gear wheels spinning in his head, as he tried to make sense out of it. "Since when do you follow F1? Should I be worried? Are you sick?"
Her mind was working fast to come up with something at least a little believeable. She couldn't just go 'I'm kidding', he'd never believe that.
"I was bored." she started, forcing her voice to stay casual. "I had to do something to justify my laziness about packing. And I knew you're gonna call, and highlights are short, so..."
That absolutely wasn't a good excuse, but sounds somewhat believable. And surely better than going: 'Actually, I think I became friends with that driver. We've been texting basically since that weekend. He watched my skating, so I decided to watch his race. Cool, right?'.
Matteo would remain silent for a few minutes and then either burst out laughing, not believing her, or started an interrogation.
Both options didn't fancy her.
"You don't have to watch anything you don't like to talk with me. I know I'm – what do you call it? – yapping about F1 when you happen to come for weekends. But you don't have to force yourself to anything."
The only thing she forced herself not to do was check the results.
What he said was so sweet, she felt tears gathering in her eyes but not falling over. It never failed to amaze her how much better relationships she had with both her dad and brother than her mother, despite growing up living with her.
She breathed out, glad he didn't dwell on this, just accepted what she said.
"But you know I enjoyed that weekend? Being away from the ice rink for a few days was nice, though I missed skates a bit."
"You surely never enjoyed sitting with me through two hour races."
She rolled her eyes.
"Can we go back to talking about me?" she purposely raised her voice a bit, to sound like some spoiled brat, which made him laugh.
And so they spoke. About Skate Canada, how proud he is of her, how beautifully she skated. And the gala program he totally didn't expect but loved. They also talked a bit about the upcoming competitions, how she feels about it after the first start of the season.
For a moment Amaliya wanted to say a word or two about what she learned from Leo some time ago, about their mother. But she bit her tongue. She didn't need this right now. And she couldn't do anything anyway.
After the call, she went to her Instagram, checking who saw her story from the gala. He hasn't texted yet. What if he saw the story but didn't answer? Should she be a little offended, or at least pretend to be offended?
But at that moment a notification came, she hesitated only for a moment before clicking it, then cursing under her breath, that's she answering way too quick.
Max: *sharing a post from some fan account. Video of Amaliya taking off the bathrobe and revealing the dress, matching song's lyrics*
Max: That is your serious sport?
She really felt a temptation to write about his riding in circles being no better, but decided to take the other route.
Ama: You didn't like it? 😔
Max: I didn't say that. Was just... different
He answered quickly, as if afraid she didn't catch the teasing.
Max: Good different. You had fun
Ama: I always have fun???
Max: But it's a no–pressure–fun
That hit her a bit, though she didn't admit it. Because what if she openly admits those are only moments when she truly, deeply enjoys her job? When she's not scared of messing anything and getting scolded after? It would be just sad. And raise a question: Why do you even do it?
What else can I do?
Max: You enjoy attention, don't you?
Luckily, the conversation turned to lighter grounds after that message.
Ama: I've been called a primadonna a few times, but I'm just confident, right? 😭
Max: Idk, would have to get to know you better 🤔
Max: But confidence is good. If you're not confident in what you're doing it's better to stay at home
Max: Don't worry about them, you're great
Ama: Oh, so you're pretty confident also, believe you're good?
Max: The best, not just 'good'
Ama: I'll let it slip today, I watched the highlights 👀 Congratulations, chauffeur!
Ama: And no, I did NOT check the results before watching
Max: Since when am I a chauffeur???
Max: You gave up on getting a license and try to hire me?
Max: And just for the record: I don't believe you
He couldn't stop himself from that comment, when she gave him such a great opportunity. Maybe deliberately, maybe not, perhaps it was just another joke instead of repeating the riding in circles one – either way, he enjoyed it and didn't hesitate for a second to use it.
Ama: I think you'd make a great chauffeur for me 😌 But I won't pay tickets you get
Ama: I can't prove it, but I really didn't check!!! I didn't know until the very end will you crash or not!!!
Max: Very funny, peak humour.
* * *
The next few days passed typically, nothing special. Go back to Moscow, train, that kind of stuff. Except that one day her training started later than it should, her whole schedule for the day was delayed, and she found herself walking home much later than it was comfortable for her. But it was close enough that she didn't want to take a taxi.
Amaliya took out her phone and scrolled through the contacts. She'll feel much better if she talks with someone on the way, so she's not alone – at least in some way. But who? Evgenia's busy, with him I don't want to talk, she probably sleeps... Mother absolutely not. Brother, dad? They'll immediately worry about her, question her, and that absolutely won't be a chill talk on the way home.
That leaves Max... Of course, he also can worry, but it's gonna be lighter. He was a distraction from her everydayness, a breath of fresh air, but at the same time grounding her, in a positive meaning.
"You only die once..." she murmured to herself, not overthinking it any longer.
He's surely awake and won't make it a big deal.
What's the worst that can happen? He won't pick up.
Or she makes an idiot of herself, when she can't think through how to answer.
"Hello...?" a little confused voice answered her after a few seconds.
For a short moment she could swear she heard water, and then, like, turning it off. And then rustling of some material.
Was he just taking a shower? Good I didn't choose a video call then...
Hearing his voice, a little bit hoarse, was somehow hitting different than on voice messages. Because it was live, it was currently happening. Not a minute ago, an hour, a day. Now.
"Did I... Interrupt anything?" she stammered out, then clearing her throat the quietest she was able to, and shook her head.
"Nah, something happened?"
Max was one hundred percent just out of the shower. She was more certain of nothing that day. Not even the step sequences she nailed. She clearly heard that material – towel – rustling near the phone, he was definitely drying up his hair.
Does that mean...?
Amaliya's cheeks started to feel suspiciously warm and even though she couldn't see them, she was sure they were red.
But it had to be because of the cold wind hitting her face constantly.
"No, I'm just... Coming back home and it's a little late and dark, so... yeah."
For a short moment she thought of joking that she thinks someone is following her, but immediately realised it's a stupid idea and is gonna worry him unnecessarily.
"Aw, you're scared. Would really appreciate a chauffeur right now, huh?"
She thought he was gonna ask why she called him, not anyone else, and was really relieved when he didn't. Instead, he brought up the chauffeur joke!
And she heard as if he put his phone away for a moment, and then a little bit of rustling. He was certainly dressing up, she would give her right arm for it.
It wasn't helping with her mood and she almost missed a green light.
"I'm not scared, I just don't like walking alone late in the evening."
"You sound scared."
No, she sounds just a tiny bit embarrassed that she called when he was showering, and that she knows he was showering.
"I'm one word away from hanging up."
"You called."
"I expected some support." she pulled her beanie lower, as wind hit her once again.
"Sure, where are we walking then?" he answered, walking out of the bathroom, and doors being closed were hearable.
"I already said: home."
"You asked for support, so I support." Max shrugged and walked over to Sassy, who was sitting on the bed. Sat next to her, and started to pet her. "And from where are we coming home?"
"Training. There was some problem with the rinks, so it all got delayed and... Well... Here I am." Meanwhile she grimaced, when wind hit her again. For a moment she contemplated whether it wouldn't be better if she spent the night at the complex.
"Poor Johnny, the whole day alone and didn't get a bedtime story."
Despite the coldness around, she couldn't help but burst out laughing, when he mentioned her small cactus. She loved how everyone around her and the fans picked up the joke about her being a full–time single mother to her son, a plant.
When she was doing Q&As or lives, there were always some people who asked about Johnny and begged her to show him.
At that point she's gonna cry her eyes out if she accidentally kills him.
"He's surely waiting for his mama to come home, don't worry."
Sassy moved from under Max's hand when he laid down on the bed, and at first she just rested her front pawn against his chest. She was clearly interested in his phone and the female voice that was coming out of it.
He giggled, seeing her so invested.
"Wanna say something, Sass?" he asked, outstretching his hand a bit towards her. She took a slow step, sniffing his phone. Then she meowed softly and brushed against it with her head.
"Oh my God, did she just say hello to me?!" Amaliya realised she might have been a little too enthusiastic, when someone on the pavement turned over to look at her.
"Looks like that." he laughed.
"I'd embrace them the moment I got a chance."
"You could try. I think it would be quite easy with Jimmy. Sassy is less huggy with people, though she claimed my bed as hers. But she doesn't like to be held, she's an independent woman cat. Jimmy accepts it better."
Even through the call Ama could say he was smiling talking about his pets. And that mixed with purring she barely heard but it was there... It could melt her heart.
"Why did you call them like that actually?" she asked, realising she never raised this question before.
"Em... After Monaco's night clubs." Max explained casually, as if it was typical. "And why Johnny?"
"Because I randomly called it that once when I was with Zhenya and it stayed. She joked that I act like a mom to him, and I embraced my role as a cactus mom." she moved her shoulder, holding the phone next to her ear with it now, as she reached to her bag for keys. She turned the key in the lock and opened the door to the building. "Anyway... Thank you for keeping me company."
Surprisingly, she felt a little bit sad that she already got home. Because that meant ending the call, but it felt so good to hear his voice. Right then and there, a real presence, not waiting for an answer no one knows how long. She didn't want to end it just now.
"Don't trip on the stairs–" just at the moment he said that, she cursed loudly. "Yeah... You okay?" she could hear he was holding back a giggle.
"Yes. Of course, laugh at me, go on. You brought me bad luck."
Max couldn't hold it in any longer and erupted into laughter. She shook her head and grabbed the keys firmer, going through them, looking for the right one, when she finally climbed on her floor. Though she was moving slower the closer she got, not wanting to end the call already.
"Sorry, it was just so perfectly timed!" he was still laughing, when she was opening the doors to her apartment. "And immediate switch to Russian to swear was a cherry on top." he paused for a moment, and added, more seriously: "You're home?"
"Yeah yeah, opening doors." she didn't realise how she smiled softly, hearing him checking if she's already at home and safe. "If I got another bruise in the shape of a continent, I swear to God–" she didn't get to finish, because he interrupted her.
"Oh yeah, by the way, I still didn't get a photo of the South America one. If there is no evidence, that didn't happen." of course he couldn't help but remind her of that, try to rile her up – and succeeded.
"And you won't, it was on my hip."
"Rude."
"Again?! You can't just call me that whenever I don't give you something!"
And just like that, the call didn't end when she closed the door behind her, walking into her cozy apartment.
Max Verstappen x OC!fem!figureskater ~not much knowledge required, OC explains things to Max as he was never into figure skating, so you'll understand too <3
-> Chapter X ''Beginning''
-> Chapter XII ''The documentary''
-> This fanfic's masterlist
Chapter XI ''Spiraling''
When Amaliya woke up in the morning, she felt as if she had just finished a heavy training. Her limbs felt twice as heavy and it was so hard to turn to the other side. But she had to, had to get up. Not because of any training, as she had a day off today, but to at least go wash her face that was basically burning.
With a groan she let go of the plushie and lifted her hands to the face. It felt so nice, they were so cold against her face, that it made her shiver. Or maybe it was because of the fever, though that thought came to her very slowly. She wanted nothing more than turn on her belly, drag a duvet over her head and sleep more.
But then came coughing. So dry and harsh, that it made her sit up and immediately regret it.
Her head started spiralling and she had to close her eyes. She might be used to rotating, but when she is doing it, not the world around her.
After a few moments of waiting for the world to stop tilting, she slowly got up, despite loud protests from her body.
Dragging leg after leg she managed to get to the kitchen, and there, one hand on the counter – stopping herself from falling over – while with the other she reached to the shelf, looking for the thermometer.
She can't be ill now, but she feels so horrible... And it surely isn't a dream. It wasn't that bad yesterday. Yes, she had some problems after a long talk with her brother, but nothing she expected to escalate like this.
Many times she had similar symptoms, but it never ended like this.
Of course it had to change when Olympics are in less than two months. Life has to hate her. She gives up everything for that one event, and her own body tries to sabotage her.
But no way in hell she lets it. Even if they'll have to drag her off the ice after, she will skate there. She won't give up her once–in–a–lifetime chance to get that gold.
She finally grabbed the thermometer and put it under her arm, starting a timer on her phone. Leaning against the counter, holding herself up by what seemed like sheer strength of will, she scrolled through the saved contacts and chose the number for the doctor from her skating club. He also takes care of the national team, he always manages to put everyone together when it matters.
They talked for a while, long enough that Amaliya took a thermometer out and saw thirty–nine degrees. They agreed she'll come today – well, she said she doesn't need a home visit and can come. Will just take a taxi.
Despite that, it all felt like hell.
She couldn't swallow anything, not to mention that if she sat, maybe she wouldn't get up at all. Dressing up for the weather outside was hard enough for her. Sitting in a taxi she didn't know if she was so hot because of the temperature in the car, her thick clothes or the fever. Or everything at once.
Twice she doubted herself that she locked the door and three times checked if she really had her phone, and panicked when it wasn't in the bag – yeah, it was in her hand.
Beside that, on the way she really tried to focus on thinking, on planning what now. How to change the training plan for it to still work out. But she couldn't. Thoughts were... As if running away on their own. The only thing she could keep in her mind, was beeing grateful that she already have done so many rehealsals, put so much work in her programs. She just needs to feel a little better, get rid of the fever and can do it, mindlessly.
The visit itself was no better. Especially when she heard that the doctor suspects pneumonia, from slight crackles he heard while auscultating.
It can't be! Or just give me something for fever and cough and let me work.
She got antibiotics, meds for cough and the worst of all... Was told to rest. At least a week. If it's 'just' a week, she's gonna be back on the ice after the new year, second of January. And Europeans are at eighteenth. Days are gonna slip through her fingers like sand, and may not be enough time to recover enough to compete with her teammates.
One thing she knew for sure: She can't have more than one week off, it would completely destroy her dreams. It's not an injury she can't skate on. Her legs are healthy, she only needs to force a few minutes out of her lungs.
Fever is not gonna last forever, it should give up in max a few days. And with it chills, cold hands and burning face will be gone. After that it's just gonna be her against the coughing, she's been doing worse.
Either way she's forced to have that week off. A few days without training won't kill her, she may replay it in her head. And when she feels better, do a little off–ice training in the living room. That will have to be enough until she can come to the training complex again.
For now going upstairs was more than enough of a physical exertion for her.
The first three days were the worst. Walking like a zombie, forcing herself to swallow a damn salad while she happened to not cough.
But even worse than physical symptoms, was pretending everything is alright, when dad called, or Leo or Max texted.
The only person she told how bad she felt was Evgenia. They always shared those things. Well, Evgenia had also other people to tell that, like her mom, but for Amaliya, her friend was the only one she could say it and be completely understood. They thought similarly, knew what their sport requires and what had to be sacrificed.
Amaliya even remembered, how they were once joking about visiting a doctor with an injury before. And the answer for a diagnosis was: 'So?'. Then doctor would went: 'You won't be able to walk', but answer came immediatelly: 'but I'll be able to skate, like, come on!'. A few painkillers, boot was stiff enough... And as we can see, everyone survived.
She'll get through this as well, she had only little doubts, but enough frustration (or obsession) to push.
Worse was assuring everyone she's alright, when she barely had energy in her to check her phone. She posted some picture from the last week on her story, so no one would suspect anything.
It usually took her some time to answer texts, so it also wasn't suspicious that she was gone for hours.
Yet somehow it hurt mentally. That now, when she was on a forced time off, she couldn't give attention to those she cares about. Ignoring calls, apologizing, saying she has no time or is tired and wants to rest. Well, partially it was true, but not in the meaning she let them believe.
Max: You okay? You've been quiet
She got that message on the first day of her suffering already. In the evening, when she usually had some time.
Ama: Yeah, I've been busy, sorry
She typed it slowly, making typos and correcting them. And then stared at it way too long before clicking send and blocking the phone, hiding face in the pillow again.
Max noticed. Of course he did, but not only from this one text. She was less playful, her answers were short and she didn't initiate anything. And no voice messages? Something was off, something felt off – like a gut feeling.
He wasn't overthinking, that maybe he did something wrong and she didn't want to talk with him. Instead it was a thought that something is going on in her life and she doesn't want to share it. He wasn't going to pressure her into saying, it would make her even less likely to say. Maybe she's just not ready yet, needs some more time, maybe just didn't trust him yet.
It could be something regarding what he read in the comments and it had him concerned for her well–being. The longer he thought about it, the more annoyed he was, because he could do nothing about it. No fixing, not even supporting.
Forcing himself to be patient was a horrible task.
"I wish you could tell me what's the truth." he murmured, looking up at the little lion plushie, that was standing on the pillow on the made bed. "You spent quite some time with her, huh?" he came over and picked it up, brushing fingers through its mane. He got an idea.
On the second day of her suffering, in the evening, Amaliya was standing in the kitchen, looking at the kettle as if that would make it boil water faster. Just after she managed to turn down a call from her dad, the screen of her phone brightened again.
Either way she was waiting for the water to boil, so she picked it up and unlocked.
Max: *sent a photo of the lion plushie sitting on the balcony railing*
Max: Found him like that in the morning, he's wondering how are you
The softest smile appeared on her face as she read that text. That was so sweet. Even more, when she thought about Max setting the whole scene up and maybe stressing for it to not fall over the barrier.
But the shot was really pretty, as if the little lion was really reflecting.
She herself would gladly stand on a balcony with such a view and... no, she doesn't even need to reflect, she could just enjoy the view.
But at the same time it meant that he was suspecting something. That was something she had hoped to avoid. Have people worry about her, try to pull her away from what mattered the most to her.
Ama: Been out with Zhenya and she exhausted me like usually
It felt bad, to lie to him like that, but it was all for her own good – despite that most people would probably think otherwise.
Max: Hope I don't exhaust you
Despite her condition, she raised an eyebrow at that. It was cute, bold, joking and serious all at once. It would be easier to decide on one if it was said, not written.
No matter what it was supposed to be, she wanted to answer something light, so the mood won't be heavy – even if she probably will fall on bed in like ten next minutes and won't answer for hours again.
It took her some time before she got an idea (the water managed to boil) and hoped he didn't notice that.
Ama: Nah, you could read a phone book and I'd still be listening
After sending that she put her phone screen down on the counter and picked up her cup with tea. Not even thinking about how it could be understood. She didn’t have strength for it. It sounded playful? Show everything is alright? Yes. Then no reason to overthink right now, when her head hurts.
On day four of her illness, she finally started to feel better. Fever dropped and she wasn't walking around her apartment like a zombie anymore. Still coughing, but not a zombie.
On day five, despite still being weak, she started to also feel boredom.
She sat on the bed, duvet over her back, laptop in front of her. She was looking through things she usually didn't have time for. Spent way too much time looking through cosmetics and clothes. Especially designer shoes, she had a weak spot for those – one of the little things she had after her mother probably.
But what can she do? They're so pretty, even if not always comfortable. It might have started with stealing her mother's shoes and walking around apartment in them... And them getting some of her own. Besides, some were still cheaper than her skates – not that she was paying for those, currently they were sponsored by the country alongside other things.
What was surprising, was that she could very well not just walk, but run in them. Eteri once joked about it, when Amaliya was running in high heels on some award ceremony. She said, that Amaliya runs better in skates and heels than in flat boots. And... That could be true. She didn't count, but she might have tripped in sneakers more – but it could also be due to the fact, that she wore those more often.
Some shopping would surely make her feel better now, right?
She switched to looking through skating stuff, some new leggings or maybe guards for blades? Scrolling through the sites she couldn't help but have a strange feeling in her chest. A dream of starting her own brand one day came back to her.
It wasn't just good, hopeful thoughts. Because starting a brand would mean investing a lot of money and time. Time, which she doesn't currently have. So starting a brand meant no training, no competing. Meant retirement.
She wasn't ready for that! To leave all this behind, no matter how much it drained her. On the other hand, she couldn't say how much time she had left.
Sounds pretty scary, considering she's just eighteen – okay, she turns nineteen in five months, but still. But how much more she can go like that? Mentally probably much longer than physically, depends how many injuries or illness are waiting for her around the corner.
Immediately to her head came Yulia Lipnitskaya, who made her decision to retire even before she turned nineteen. But she had harsher seasons and injuries.
She's different, she faces everything and makes her way through it, it never ends badly for her. She still has time, right? How she feels right now is only temporary.
Then the intercom suddenly made sound and broke her away from her thoughs.
She was expecting anything, but got up and checked what's going on.
It turned out, it was the gift her brother and dad both mentioned.
She brought this on the bed, on the way grabbing scissors to open it. Even if she was thinking completely clearly, she'd still have no idea what it might be. They always gave her gifts not related to skating at all, it could be anything.
This was small. Yet many things were inside, she heard it when she shook the box.
Of course...
The first thing she saw was way too many sweets. Chocolate, Kinders, lollipops and those candies she said she likes just once, but it was enough for her dad to give it to her always when he had an occasion.
Not that she's gonna eat all that, at least not quickly. She still has some sweets from the last package. When she was still living with her mother, she had to steal those and eat them in secret, because if she noticed... Let's say, she wasn't nice.
Between all that was a small box, looking like from a jewellery store. Amaliya slowly opened it and saw a silver necklace with a little silver moon with some crystals. On the other side was a little engravement which she barely could read: 'Christmas 2017'. So she knows what gift she got when, they usually had a date somewhere on. Even on the inside of a cap. At the bottom of the cup. On the etui of a phone.
She put it on and raised her phone to see how it looks like. Luckily, was long enough so she could put it under the the dress on competition, so she won't have to take it off.
Then she noticed the note. One read was enough to know it was her damn brother writing it to rile her up.
'Find your sun at last, which light you will reflect'.
Very funny. Pure commedy. I'm gonna hit him when I see him.
Headache.: You dumbass, I AM the sun. 😤
Answer came way too quickly, as if he was waiting for her to say something about that.
Idiot.: Okay okay, then find another sun to compete with
Idiot.: I wanted to buy a sun, but dad said you're more like a moon, always hiding a part of yourself
It hit her way too much before she realised it's probably another phrase meant to tease her.
Headache.: I regret every moment I spent with either you in my entire life.
Idiot.: I'm kidding! You're way too easy to rile up 😂
Idiot.: We both think moon photos are prettier and the moon necklace was prettier than the sun one
Idiot.: Oh! And out of curiosity I checked the moon phase when you were born while at the shop. Did you know it was a full moon? 98.31% visible!
How did he, my Leo, remembered such an exact number but forgets when I tell him to like my story?!
Headache.: You're in your zodiac girl era or what?
Headache.: Besides, then why this moon isn't full?
Idiot.: Shut up, you're being snippy
Headache.: Oh, sorry for retaliating 🙄
Idiot.: Buuuut you like it?
Headache.: Yeah, despite that it's partly from you <3
Idiot.: And you're feeling much better I see
Headache.: And we had such a nice conversation already... Better go throw your ball o sth
Idiot.: Actually, I'm on my way to do so. You have fun with your shoes with knives
Oh, she'd love to go to the ice rink. Instead she has a spinner and skipping rope waiting for her in the living room.
* * *
When after a New Year's Eve Amaliya was walking through the streets of Moscow towards the training complex, her head was way too full for her liking, especially before a training.
It was probably the hardest entering into a new year in her life. She was alone, still not feeling great, and lying again that all is alright.
Oh, and she saw the video of her attempting a quad, that apparently was a viral on the skating fan accounts.
It appeared on her Instagram feed and at first she couldn't believe she's actually seeing it. Who filmed and uploaded it? Why? It wasn't even good – not for her at least.
She'd like to ignore it, she basically did, because didn't say a word about it, even though people were asking, some even demanding her to say whether she's gonna attempt it in competition or not. And have she had some better attempts.
Staying silent online didn't mean the same offline. Before, it was a thing only she could be frustrated about, something no one expected of her. She could work on it in peace, make progress and decide when she's gonna be ready to show it.
Now? Now it's gonna be expected of her, and if she doesn't deliver, it's gonna be a big failure. She may not try at all, then they gonna ask, press her into it. And if she tries and fails? She'll look stupid. A girl who's ambitions outgrow her. Idiot for even trying something like that. Burned–out.
When she was setting records by landing new combinations, first of all she was younger, barely fifteen. She could do those in training without problems multiple times. But most importantly: she was new in the senior cathegory, only expectations from juniors going after her, nothing more. Now her place was more established, and anything could destroy it.
And right now? She felt like things were falling apart in her hands.
She barely made it through the off–ice warm–up, but was determined. They told her she doesn't have to rush anything, that health is important.
How could she understand, when everything around her was going on normally? Others were improving and time was passing inexorably.
So at one moment she was listening, the second shaking her head stubbornly, and the third on the bench, lacing up her skates.
She might have a little higher temperature than she should have, she might be barely catching her breath after exertion, but she pushed through this. After all, she's that kind of athlete that can survive a lot of pain in the name of a perfect performance.
That was her choice. That's what she continued to tell herself with every step towards the ice rink. It's her choice, no one makes her be here, she wants to train, to go back to form after illness (because yes, in her head she wasn't sick anymore, not when she could function like on a normal day).
No even once she had a thought that they should stop her. Force her to rest. Don't let her come her. Prioritize her health. She might have been told health is very important and she doesn't have to rush, but what of that, if all it took was a definite 'no' from her and doors to the training complex were open?
An illusion that the choice is hers.
Because even if she didn't admit it, she knew: she either fights or may retire already. Everyone will give her looks if she'd go back after a longer stay at home. She'd be a disappointment. They all gave her so much and she can't even try a little harder? Others would do it if they were her. They'd kill to be in her place. Does she really want to throw all of her career out the window because of one little illness? Pathetic.
That's what she was the most scared of. Of being a disappointment in her and everyone's eyes.
So she took guards off the blades and stepped on the ice.
Her stamina was trash. Literally.
Jumps felt horrible, if she even completed them.
A full run–through a program? Impossible, even with the short one. She had to make pauses to cough, claiming it's just the air at the rink.
"No, no. It's a nonsense, you waste my time, go home." Eteri said, when Amaliya stopped after completed a spin.
She leaned forward, hand against her knees, trying to catch a breath when her lungs felt like fire. If it goes like this she'll have to withdraw from the Europeans and there is no way she's gonna accept that. She has never withdrew from any competition, no matter how she was feeling. It's not going to change now.
Her stamina couldn't get that bad in just a week, if only not that coughing...
She'll have it back, she'll force it back.
"I'm fine, I can do it." she answered, straightening up and wiping her still slightly warm forehead.
"Then stop look like a beaten up dog and do it."
With a nod, she continued with the routine. Step sequence into a solo triple jump, wasn't that hard. The landing wasn't the best, but she held onto that edge and managed to continue choreography.
The problem came with a triple axel. A half more rotation which... well, she didn't get.
She basically landed it forward, spinned on the ice the missing rotation as the blade cut into the ice and then fell, despite trying to keep herself up with a hand. But the hand slid, as well as the other leg, and she hit the ice with her hip once again.
"Continue." she heard, when was taking too much time to get up. But it really hurt, she couldn't remember last time when she fell so much during one training session. "If you're going to cry don't waste space on the ice."
She pushed herself up to sitting and then stood up. That's what she wanted. She knew it won't be easy, professional sport never is. When she gets the Olympic gold she'll be thank her past self, or maybe won't even think about how hard the path was.
Then why was she crying on the way home? As if her dream was already shattered and she wasn't doing everything she could to put it back together?
She held it in so well during training, why can't she now? Swallow it and forget.
Back at home, she washed her face and after drying it up with a towel, slid down to the floor against the wall.
She needs to stop thinking about it. Push it as far as she can, so when she comes back to it tomorrow, she's gonna have a fresh mind. New motivation. Better mood.
She sat there for a dozen minutes, steading up her breath and testing how her voice sounds, before reaching to an only person that was able to pull her mind completely away from skating.
Ama: How was your day so far?
Max: Been on the simulator
Max: You might have ruined my lap time
A gentle smile again. Oh, if he knew how glad she was he answered so quickly. Even if it really ruined his time in his beloved game.
Ama: We haven't talked for some time, wanna catch up?
Ama: I can even let you yap about the simulator thing
After clicking send, she chewed on the inside of her cheek. Hopefully it doesn't sound strange. It's logical, talking instead of texting if he was playing. Unless she was bothering him either way.
I can be silent, only listening, just please say yes.
Max: Can even share the screen if you'd like to watch
Victory.
Ama: You know what? Why not
Ama: Maybe I'll even manage to record you crash
~
~Author's note~
Just wanna let you know I added (current) word count of this fanfic on its masterlist, if anyone was wondering <3
Would you like me to add wc on chapters or you don't care? I usually add it on one–shots, but may do here as well
