Hey guys!! Long time no talk, I know, but life has been hectic and I’ve been doing my best. Good news is, though, I should have the chapter up in the next week or two (though I’m shooting for sooner rather than later), and thought I’d put up a little bit of a sneak peek!!
It’s time for Viktor to compete at Euros, and hopefully this year will go better than the last.
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As expected, when they pull up in front of the hotel their arrival is heralded by flashing cameras and a crowd. Longing for the days when he could just go places without fanfare, Viktor waits until the door is opened before stepping out. Standing, he gives the press a few moments to get pictures before allowing himself to be shuttled closer. The press does their best to shout over each other as he draws near, and he can see reporters eyeing his bodyguards. Hopefully, they’ll behave; there’s no need for another fiasco like last year.
“Mr. Nikiforov, there are rumors that recent practices haven’t gone so well, can you elaborate?”
Internally, Viktor lets out a sigh, but he makes sure his smile stays glued to his face. “Recovery from injury isn’t a linear process,” he says. “Slight complications have made it necessary for me to train more carefully than I have in the past.”
“What sort of complications?”
“That’s between myself and my coaches and medical staff,” he bites.
A different microphone is pushed towards him. “Do you expect to podium?”
“I certainly hope to,” he says, “but competitions can be unpredictable! I expect to give it my best, and hopefully that will be good enough.”
“There are rumors,” a different reporter says, “that you’ll be skating for Sachima next year instead of Russia, are there any truth to them?”
“I’ll refrain from commenting about next season until after Worlds,” he replies, though he knows full well he’s retiring. “I like to focus on the season at hand before making plans for the future.” He can hear his rinkmates fielding a few questions around him, but the majority of the press seems to be focused on Viktor. Naturally.
“How much does His Majesty understand about your career? Does he watch your programs?”
Viktor looks towards the source of the unusual questions to see a younger woman holding a notepad. She looks new to journalism and he smiles. “His Majesty is actually quite a good figure skater himself! He understands much of the technical part of skating and basic scoring, so he follows it easily. As for your second question, unless he has a pressing matter to deal with, my fiancé watches my programs live.”
“Has he ever seen you compete in person?”
Nodding, Viktor grins. “He has! He attended Russian Nationals in secret last year, and watched both programs from the boards!”
Another reporter moves closer to get in on the questioning. “Are there any plans for the King of Sachima to see you in person again?” Yuuri’s mentioned something about trying to attend Worlds, but it’s still up in the air as far as Viktor knows. If he had to hazard a guess, he’d say it’s unlikely, but that doesn’t stop him from hoping.
“For security reasons, I’m unable to comment on His Majesty’s future plans, I’m sure you understand.”
“Of course,” is the reply.
“You’re up against some of the most accomplished skaters in Europe aside from yourself. After your win at Russian Nationals, how do you feel about your chances here? Any words for your competitors?”
Viktor looks at the reporter that asked, an older man that certainly knows he’s just rephrasing an earlier question to try to eke an answer out. Narrowing his eyes, Viktor lets his smile fall. “Again, I hope my best is good enough for the podium, and I look forward to competing with such accomplished athletes.” The negativity and insult-throwing that, at times, comes with athletic competitions has always grated on Viktor, and he’s promised himself he’d never take part. Obviously the press either hasn’t realized or doesn’t care.
“Vitya,” Yakov says, coming up next to him, “let’s go. You can do more press later.” Nodding, Viktor flashes a grateful smile and turns back to the press.
“That’s all I can answer for now,” he chirps, “thank you!” Part of him wants to thank them for not being assholes this time around, but that likely wouldn’t go over well with either the press or the Palace, so he refrains, instead waving as he lets Yakov lead him inside.
