You mean, the whole "them" thing? I'm fine with it. I mean, I was a bit insecure at first (and had no right to be obviously), but that had nothing to do with them and more to do with me. I'm not anymore. Granted, it's not as if they have had... time for much things, because we're in separate countries, and when we weren't (Worlds) there were heavy restrictions in place for us.
I'm fine with it. I want Otabek to be happy, and if this was something he wanted to explore, I'm fine with it. I like Mila, and I'm good with whatever he wants for their relationship moving forward.
Otabek commends himself for his tenacity, for his stoic persona he’s cultivated over the years. He’s Kazakhstan’s pride and joy, and the day he lets them down is the day he puts up his skates for good.
Right now, he fears that day may come sooner than he’s ready for, sooner than he’s willing to admit.
It’s a bad day at practice. For whatever reason, he can’t land his jumps, his body isn’t cooperating, and whatever elegance and grace he’s supposed to have seems to have been replaced with horrendous awkwardness. With competition season looming over his shoulder, the weight of his failures hit him hard. Irritation runs through his body, and he makes the unfortunate mistake of snapping at his coach over a well intentioned is everything alright?
“Take the rest of the day off,” they tell him afterward, “You’re not in the right mind to get anything done today. Rest, and tomorrow we’ll start again.”
“But…!” He begins to protest. Doesn’t his coach understand he can’t take a break? He has to practice, he has to work harder than everyone else, he has to make his parents proud, his country proud.
His coach will have none of that, however, and they send him on his way.
Otabek spends his trip home mulling in deep dejection, the weight of the world on his shoulders. He’s always been painfully aware of his shortcomings, his inadequacies compared to the other skaters, and right now, it hits him hard. He wants to place, has to place.
He enters his apartment, and is immediately greeted with the sight of Mila lounging on his couch, watching Russian dramas on TV and eating all of his vanilla ice cream straight out of the pint. Right. It’s her day off today, so of course she’d want to come over and spend time with him. He doesn’t mind the fact she shows up uninvited, no, in fact that’s why he gave her a set of keys to his apartment, but today, he wishes she’d leave. He doesn’t want to see anyone today, not like this.
Still, when she looks at him like a puppy seeing their owner after being alone all day, Otabek knows he can’t kick her out, he doesn’t have the heart too.
“Oh! You’re home early!” Mila says. Otabek doesn’t know if it’s women’s intuition or what, but immediately afterward her face melts into concern and she asks, “Is everything alright?”
I feel like a disappointment and a failure to everyone is what he wants to say, but instead the words “I’m fine” fall from his lips.
Mila frowns. “That’s bullshit, you’re not fine.”
“I’m fine,” he repeats, this time with more force. He doesn’t know why he can’t tell her he feels like shit, why he can’t open up to her. Perhaps it’s the thought of relying on someone else, a thought foreign and alien to him. Self-reliance has always been his key to success, and he loathes to fix what’s seemingly not broken.
Mila looks angry for a moment, insulted that she’s being brushed aside like this, but her face quickly softens and she brings a gentle hand to his face. “Oh Bek, you’re not fine, you’re crying.”
Otabek stares at her in horror. “I’m not…!” He quickly brings his hand to his face, and much to his dismay, his cheeks are wet. She’s right, he’s crying. When had he started? It doesn’t take long afterward for him to start choking on his sobs.
“Shh…” She starts to say as she gently drags him to the couch. They sit down, and she immediately envelops him into her arms. “I don’t know what’s wrong because you won’t tell me, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but it’ll be okay. I want you to be okay.”
It’s not long before the floodgates open and he’s hiding his face in her shoulder, sobbing both out of frustration and shame. “What if I’m a disappointment to everyone…?” He manages to finally sputter out. The fact he’s sitting here sobbing into Mila’s arms is shameful enough, but somehow, verbalizing his fears just sounds pathetic. The Hero of Kazakhstan should not be sobbing hysterically into someone else’s arms. Heros are strong, and right now, he is not. He has to be strong, he cannot be a hero if he is not strong.
Still, Mila is not deterred by any of this. “Bad day?” is all she asks. She knows far too well the havoc pressure and a bad day can wreak, and she’s not at all surprised when Otabek silently nods into her shoulder.
“Talk to me about it.” Mila’s voice full of warmth and encouragement.
“I can’t let them down. My country, my family, my parents…I can’t let them down, but I am.” He can’t believe he’s just blurting this all out to her, but the words just fall from his lips. He swore to never speak his fears aloud, but here he is, going back on his word. He’s proud of the work he’s done, proud that he’s managed to turn his weaknesses into strengths, but what if after all that, it’s not enough? He couldn’t place even after all his perseverance. He swore to train harder, and he did, but somehow that just made his recent failures that much more dire. He shouldn’t be failing after all of that. He can’t be.
She nods. It’s a feeling she understands far too well, a bane of being a high level competitive skater. “Babe, trust me on this, you’re not letting anyone down. People are proud of you. Your country is so proud to have someone as dedicated as you representing them. I don’t know your family or your parents, but I’m sure they are proud to have a son who just wants to make them proud.” She pauses, and really looks at him as to emphasize what she was about to say, “For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you. You work harder than anyone I know, and that’s what makes you win. Hard work, and a little bit of luck that the judges are having a good day.”
Otabek stays quiet as Mila speaks, unsure of how to process anything of what she’s telling him. He’s always felt disadvantaged compared to the other skaters, be it through innate talent or through physical resources. He’s so, so fortunate to be where he is today, but fortune is a double edged sword for if he fails and lets everyone down, his fortune would have been for naught. Pressure. It’s a lot of pressure.
Somehow, Mila seems to know what he’s thinking. “I know you think you’re not as talented as the other skaters are, but please, believe me when I say that talent is such a small, meaningless part of victory and success. You can have the all the talent in the world, you can be a prodigy, but if you’re lazy and you slack off, it’s meaningless.”
Otabek opens his mouth to say something, but Mila continues speaking. “And you are talented, you have a lot of talent, but it’s because you work hard and take your training seriously that you’re a fierce competitor. Believe me, when I was a little girl, people praised me for my talent, and it made me lazy. My first major competition in Juniors, I completely bombed it. I was so embarrassed that I wanted to quit, but I loved skating too much. But you on the other hand,” She pauses, and gives him a stern look which says you better not be tuning me out before saying, “You never fell into that trap. You have an advantage over knowing your shortcomings, and that’s exactly why you shine. Understand? Just remember…it’s also important to rest. Hard work means nothing if you crash and burn.”
He slowly and silently nods. Otabek doesn’t know if anything she’s staying will stick in the long run, but for now, he feels a bit more at ease, like he can relax and stop crying helplessly into Mila’s shoulder. Maybe his coach is right, maybe he needs to take a day off, and maybe Mila is right, that his hard work will ultimately pay off in the end. Plus, he has enough faith in her that she’ll be more than eager to remind him should he forget.
Mila gently brushes Otabek’s bangs to the side before she leans in to give him a gentle kiss on the forehead. “Feel better?” she asks.
“I do, uh, thank you…and I’m so-”
“Hush, no apologies!” She says, putting a finger to his lips and immediately cutting him off. “As long as you feel better, that’s all that matters. Now then, we have more pressing matters at hand.” Mila looks over at the forgotten pint of vanilla ice cream, which is now half melted. “Grab a spoon and help me finish the ice cream before it turns into soup. I don’t care what anyone says, it’s good and healthy to eat your feelings worth in ice cream.”
