A/N: First of all, let me reiterate something: I'm not a skater. I've never ice skated in my life. I have never even stepped foot into an ice rink. I'm doing research for this book, but I'm sure there are going to be plenty of ice skating terminology and other factors that I'm going to get wrong, but I'm going to try my best. Please, if you are an ice skater and see something wrong or incorrect in what I've written, please, let me know. Any constructive criticism is welcome and wanted. Thank you for reading and enjoy the book.

Here's the thing about ice skating

It's all about risks.

Just gliding on the ice won't do, that won't win competitions.

You have to take risks.

Even after 2 years, Victor has stuck to his promise. And after two years, I still have yet to make him break it.

And how can I? Winning gold, with Victor as a competitor? Sure, he was my coach, sure he was my roommate, but... though Victor had taught me secrets beyond imaginable as his time as my coach, I'm sure he'd kept plenty to himself. Just enough to keep me away. Away from the gold.

Victor was a god in the rink, a master of the ice, a prodigy of grace (I could go on and on but I'm too lazy). And even though the media has called me the one to surpass him multiple times, I had yet to earn that name.

Is that much to ask?  Just to beat him? Every year I made it to the Final Grand Prix. And every year, I'd lost to Victor.

Don't get me wrong, I love Victor. He's my coach after all, what's not to love? But...

"Whatcha writing there, piggy?" A loud yelp escaped my partially agape mouth as my body levitated from the bench, only to plop back down without so much of any grace. Way to go, Yurio, you've practically killed me.

"Yurio... uh, hi! What are you doing here?"

"Uh... this is the men's locker room dumbass. And you still haven't answered my question." His eyes pounced on my black journal that laid on the ground. Reading his expression just a second early, I whipped that book off the ground at the speed of Victor's mood changes. Oh, if only I could move like that in the rink.

"N-Nothing, none of your business." I stuttered, hiding the book behind my back and shooting the blonde a smile. I knew it wouldn't be very convincing: Victor had told me a million times how bad of a liar I was, and I had my god-awful poker face to prove it.

"You look guilty..." Yurio muttered, crossing his arms. "Well, I'm waiting..."

"H-hey, what gives you the right to make me give you my book?"

"Well, that's fine. I'll just go tell Victor about your little secret diary. I'm sure he'll get a kick out of that." Yeah, he would. That's the problem, once Victor would catch word of my JOURNAL YURIO ITS A JOURNAL, then there is nowhere in the world I could escape his peeking eyes.

And, well, let me just say if he did catch a peek inside this JOURNAL, then I'd practically have to commit yeetus skeetus self-deletus.

Relaxing, I pulled the book out from behind me and rested it on my lap. "I guess there's no backing out  now... just...please, keep this a secret."

"Blah..." Yurio swiped his hand at me, and turned quickly. "I don't care about it."

"But you just..."

"Yo, Piggy, they're calling your name." My face furrowed for a second. Why would they possibly be...

OH SHIT THE AWARD CEREMONY.

"YURIOOOOO!!" I jumped up, slicking my hair back swiftly. "Why didn't you tell meeee."

"I was going to, but then you distracted me with that dumb book."

"You're the one who got distracted, I had nothing to do with that!!" I yelled as I scurried past him, as fast as I could with death blades on the soles of my skates, and out into the hallway leading to the rink. I cringed as I heard my name being called again, this time laced with a confused tone, and continued my running/stumbling until I reached the edge of the darkened rink. Panting, I pushed myself away from the border and made my way to the podium. Chris was practically in tears as I hopped up onto the second place stand, panting.

"Wow, that is za first time I have ever seen anybody be that late to their own award ceremony!!" I just barely heard him over the laughter of the crowd. Each breath, each 'ha' that left their mouth added an extra pound to the weight that was the embarrassment, and it continued to push me down, even as the medal bearer hung the silver medal around my neck. But that wasn't what truly scared me.

"And now, I present to you, your champion for this year's Final Grand Prix... VICTOR NIKIFOROV!!" The laughter swiftly transformed into cheers as Victor, who had skated up behind the podium while I had been...distracted, stepped up into his rightful place. Heart pounding, I glanced up at his face. He was practically beaming with excitement as he heard his name being called. His silver, sorry, PLATINUM hair shone in the light, and his skin glowed as if it were made of millions of miniscule diamonds. The smile on his face just lit up the entire rink, and I couldn't help but mirror it myself.  By this point, the weight of the laughter had melted away, and the happiness inside had already begun to bubble up. In an unprecedented move, I started laughing, clinging onto my medal with one hand while waving cheerfully with the other. Yeah, I wanted the gold medal. Yeah, I wanted it...soooo bad. But at this moment, that want had been pushed down, replaced the absolute joy that is even getting a medal in first place. I could feel Victor's eyes flash down towards me, and, even though I pushed not to, I glanced up at him. His arctic blue eyes flashed, and I could tell he was proud of me, from those, and the great smile he gave me. I gave him one in return. God, why is he so cu--

The officiant broke our smiling fest (GOSH OFFICIANT) by waving us off the podiums and towards the edge of the rink, where our pictures would get taken by the many many eyes of the media's cameras. Victor took the lead, of course. The three of us glided in complete sync towards the edge, holding our medals up to boast proudly to the world. Since we'd gotten off the podium, I'd been focused on the bombardment of cameras waiting for us, trying to make sure I wouldn't look like an idiot in any photo. So obviously it scared me when I felt something warm intertwine with my free fingers, pulling me along. Jumping slightly, I looked down at what had caused such a feeling, and nearly fainted when I saw a hand. One hand, belonging to Victor Nikiferov. I snapped my head up to look at him, only to be met with a smiling Victor.

THIS MAN WAS SKATING STRAIGHT FORWARD WITHOUT LOOKING HOW TF--

Chris was "oohing" in the background, probably making up fantasies in his head. Also probably coming up with a ship name. Victor began to slow down as he neared the border, the rest of us subconsciously doing the same.

Said man tugged at me until I was skating at his side. At a complete loss of words I stuttered,

"V-victor...what..."

"Your blushing is adorable, little piggy." He muttered in my ear, before skidding us to a stop. "Now...smile." I looked up, just as the camera flashed.

Suddenly I was sitting at a long table, a big mic pointed directly at me, being bombarded with camera flashes as Victor answered yet another question that had been thrown at him. I'd been sitting at this darn press meeting for 10 minutes and I hadn't received any questions yet. Victor got most of them, and even Chris had gotten a few. I know I'm not the most popular skater, but jeez  people, I got second place. It's not that bad.

"So Victor!!! How do you feel about Yuuri's late entrance to the award ceremony." One reporter asked above the noise of the others. Victor's smile didn't falter, it didn't even flinch, as he sMaCkEd Me On ThE bAcK oF tHe HeAd GoD dAmMiT vIcToR.

"Owwww.." I moaned, rubbing the spot of contact.

"There's your answer. Next!" Victor continued in his bubbly tone, unfazed by my pain. Wow. That hurts Victor. More than that slap.

All at once, a quite horrendous sound filled the room. It sounded like a toddler had just smashed his hands onto a keyboard programmed with different ringtones. The room fell silent for a moment as all the reporters checked their phones. Then, all eyes slowly focused...on me?? What did I do?? Did Victor accidentally leak his nudes again? Suddenly, questions were being thrown at me left and right. Ok people I said I wanted just a few questions, not a whole pie in the face. Through the cacophony of voices and questions, I was just able to make out one specific reporter's question:

"Yuuri Katsuki, do you have any comment on the trending picture of you on Touchbook?" I could feel the color drain from my face.

"Uh..w-what picture?" I asked, my voice quivering. I could feel Victor's slightly concerned gaze but I ignored it as the reporter held out their phone so I could see what they were talking about.

If my face wasn't pale before, well then it certainly lost all of it's color now. Grabbing the phone with both hands, my eyes ran over the post over and over again. It had been posted ten minutes ago and already had... the amounts of likes and retouches it had far surpassed the capacity of math my brain had retained from school. My mouth ran dry as I reread the post, though the contents had already been permanently engraved in my brain. Slowly, I scrolled down to see the replies left on the post. At that moment, my heart nearly stopped. I felt as Victor's posture changed, and he leaned over and whispered softly in my ear.

"Yuuri, what is wrong?" With trembling hands, I passed the phone over to Victor so he could see. At first he just smiled at the original post, which I would expect from him. "I see nothing wrong with this." It was a picture of Victor and I holding hands out on the rink at the awards ceremony. I was so very clearly blushing, eyes staring right into Victor's as he laughed. Normally I wouldn't have reacted the way I did with the picture. However...

"R-Read the caption.." I managed to muster out loud. I could feel the tears begin to push to the surface and it took all my might not to let them show in front of the press.  Victor's eyes looked over the post again.  I watched as his jawline tensed, and his eyes narrowed. Then, they widened. No longer were they filled with the childish joy that made Victor Victor. Instead, they were filled with a fury like sharp fractals of ice. His lips pressed into a straight line. It wasn't until then that I noticed his hands shaking furiously. Never before had I seen Victor like this. Victor wasn't one to lose his cool, not since I've known him. Yet again, I doubt this has ever happened to him before. Chris noticed our expressions and carefully yet swiftly slid the phone out of Victor's hands before he could crush it, as he knew very well he was capable of doing. Looking down at the screen, Chris didn't show the slightest change as he read the post. After handing the phone back to the reporter, he glanced at us. Victor was in no shape to talk, hands clenched into fists and body shaking furiously. I would've said something... anything... but my voice had just left me, my mouth dry and my body frozen. Chris knew this, and promptly took action.

"No comment, now that's all we have the energy to do for today, sorry." He said into his mic. The room exploded into questions that had not been answered, more than there had been before. He urged Victor to get out of his seat, but was interrupted as Victor suddenly grasped his mic and brought it up to his lips. The entire room fell silent. His expression had changed. He was no longer scowling; instead, he had the same smile that he had had before.

No, it was different. It was forced.

"No, I do have one comment. To whoever made that post, I will find you and I will k--"

"OK, that's enough!" Chris interrupted the threat, and practically shoved Victor and I off our seats and out the room. It wasn't until after the door that separated us from the public was closed, and we were finally alone, that my tears finally decided to push themselves out. The post was stuck in my head, and it hurt. Oh, it hurt so badly. As much as I tried, I just couldn't get it out. Unknowingly, my hands flew up to my head, grasping and tugging at my hair as I swayed uncontrollably. I tried and tried to regain my balance but my head was in knots and my limbs just weren't working...I felt sick.

Chis took notice and nudged Victor, who had been scowling off into the distance, lost in thought.

I tried to steady myself, I really did. Funny, isn't it? A skater without balance? I guess I'd swayed a bit too far to the right, because I began to feel myself fall. I didn't bother trying to stop the inevitable, and just braced myself to accept it.

I let out a small yelp as I felt something grab me under my arms, and gently lower me down. I immediately recognized Victor's scent of cinnamon and vodka,  and a wave of safety washed over me. It was almost as if, when I was with Victor, I knew that I was ok, that I was shielded away from this cruel nightmare they called life. It was here in my safe haven that I finally let my tears flow freely. Gasping for air like a baby, I strained to look through my tears at my coach. Through the blurred field, I could just make out Victor's smile. Not the forced smile that I had witnessed just a few moments ago. But it wasn't exactly very real either. It was a mask, a cover to hide worry, fear...and disgust. Feeling absolutely weak in the heart, I threw my arms around his neck and buried my face into his black tuxedo. It was here that I actually felt safe. It was here I could be myself, and not worry about anybody judging. Because it was one person, and I knew Victor would never judge. I felt his arms slide around my back and squeeze me in closer. It was so...warm...so comfortable. If I could've stayed there forever, I would've.

But the image flashing in my brain would not let me go.

The picture meant nothing compared to the words that had been written above it:

OK, YuuriKatsuki, I see you. Taking advantage of V-Nikiforov to win. You know, the rest of us work hard to get to advance. But, no, all you had to do was seduce the top skater, and boom, popularity boost. Let's be honest, we all know you'd still be sulking around, fat as a pig, had Victor decided to do himself a favor and stay in Russia. Nobody likes watching you. So do US all a favor and quit. No even better. Do us all a favor and drown yourself in that hot springs your family is so proud of. Or take a swan dive off the roof of that famous Hasetsu Castle. Whichever would hurt the most.

This alone would've made me mad, yes, but that wasn't it. Not even close.

The problem was all the people agreeing with it.