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Peace and quiet—that’s all Victor wanted. Just five minutes of nothing but silence and his own thoughts. From the moment he woke up, his work phone had been going off nonstop, buzzing almost constantly with texts, emails, and calls from his team. He was bombarded with even more questions and noise than he could handle when he arrived at the theatre.
Do we still have the budget for a rotating stage?
Have you finished the revised script?
Did you review what we discussed last week with the costume designers?
When Victor had written Stammi Vicino, he’d poured his very soul into its creation. Every moment he could spare, he’d spent obsessing over every little detail until it was perfect. Victor grew up with a love for the stage. He loved to dance, sing, and act, so becoming a theatre major was the obvious choice.
Victor had hated creative writing in school and had thought his talents lay strictly on stage rather than behind the scenes—until his mother died.
His aunt called to give him the news during his second semester at Tisch. His mother’s diagnosis had come a week after Victor received his acceptance letter, but she’d kept it hidden from the family until after Victor moved to New York. After getting pregnant at eighteen, his mother had given up her dreams to raise Victor on her own. She didn’t want Victor giving up his own dreams to take care of her. She had made her sister swear not to tell Victor until it was close to the end.
Victor had booked the next flight back to Russia, using a good chunk of his scholarship money in the process. He had less than a day with his mother before she passed, only a handful of hours with her, in and out of consciousness. In the moments when she was lucid, his mother kept going on about something called Stammi Vicino. No one had a clue as to what she was talking about until weeks later, when Victor’s aunt was going through her sister’s things.
His mother had always talked about wanting to write a book, but Victor never remembered seeing her work on it. No one knew that all those shoe boxes Victor always assumed were just…shoes were actually handwritten notes and character profiles for her novel. Victor had asked his aunt to send the shoe boxes to him, and he pored over every note.
The idea to adapt his mother's story into a musical was Victor's way of dealing with his grief at first. Stammi Vicino became the script-baby he nursed throughout the rest of college, and with a lot of pain and work, he managed to get a small production together after graduation in a run-down theatre that no longer existed. Victor didn’t have the money for a grand production—all he had was himself and a few close friends from college. They had bought costumes and props from a secondhand store, the songs had been nothing more than a few sheets of piano music and Victor's raw voice, and the production team consisted mostly of Victor’s roommates.
Three shows. Three shows were all they could afford, and most of the attendees were friends and family. Why Yakov Feltsman bought a ticket to Stammi Vicino still baffled Victor to this day. Yakov’s story always changed over the years, so Victor was never sure, but from the moment Yakov approached him, both of their lives changed forever.
With Yakov’s help, they adapted the music and story to better fit the Broadway circuit. On opening night, Victor threw up twice before walking out on stage and dazzling everyone with his mother’s story. For three years, he played the lead, and for three years, he achieved more critical acclaim than he ever thought possible.
When Yakov approached him to work on the musical adaptation of the beloved film The King and the Skater, Victor had been ecstatic. The King and the Skater had always been one of his favourites, watching the two-part VHS over and over again until he knew every line by heart. What he hadn’t anticipated was all the pressure. With Stammi Vicino, they’d adapted the story for the theatre from scratch with nothing but Victor’s mother’s notes and Victor’s passion for telling her story. The King and the Skater was another ballgame entirely.
Not only was the story a completed work, it was an adored classic movie with a huge fanbase spanning decades. Early attempts at bringing The King and the Skater to Broadway had failed, and all the movie sequels and reboots had flopped. Victor was determined to make this adaptation a success, but he needed the right cast to bring those beloved characters from the silver screen to the stage. Yet after weeks of searching, Victor still hadn’t found his lead.
His investors kept insisting on him giving the role to some Canadian pop star looking to buff his acting resume. They believed his name would give the production the buzz they were looking for, but Victor hated the guy. Aside from JJ's cocky personality, he didn't have what it took to portray the King’s complex nature. Victor wanted to find someone who could connect with the King, someone who had lost his confidence and had to work hard to get it back to become the ruler he was born to be. Basically, someone the opposite of JJ, who practically oozed confidence from every pore.
Victor knew his perfect King was out there somewhere. They had time to find him—for now, though, they were auditioning for some of the smaller roles. He was supposed to be overseeing the auditions now, but his head was throbbing and he just needed a few minutes to clear it. Victor found an empty practice room with a small piano and a couch just large enough for him to curl up on. Before anyone could pull him in another direction, Victor snuck into the practice room, dragged the couch behind a folding screen that was conveniently large enough to hide him, and turned off the lights.
It felt like only a few minutes had passed when the door opened again. Sighing, Victor rubbed his eyes, considering if he should just pretend he wasn’t here or simply tell whoever was looking for him to leave. To his surprise, the sound of giggling little girls entered the room along with incessant shushing.
“We probably shouldn’t be in here,” one of the voices said. “Mom told us to stay with Yuuri.”
If Victor had to guess, the speaker couldn’t have been older than six or seven—precisely the age group they were auditioning for today. Victor felt himself sink deeper into the couch. Hopefully the parents of these girls would come looking for them soon and Victor could go back to his attempt at a break.
“Relax,” another voice said, sounding similar to the previous. “Don’t you want to practice one more time?”
“But we don’t have our music,” a third voice said as the blinding lights came on. Victor shut his eyes immediately—the bright fluorescent tubes above burning his already tired eyes.
“Yuuri always says we don’t need a song to make music, so let’s try.”
“Fine,” the other two girls spoke in unison just as the doors to the practice room opened again.
“There you are,” a soft, relieved male voice said. “Your mom and I have been looking everywhere for you three.”
“Sorry, Uncle Yuuri,” the three girls said together in perfect harmony.
“What are you doing in here?” the man, Yuuri, asked.
“We just wanted a quiet place to practice,” one of the girls said sweetly. “Will you help us go over our audition one more time?”
Yuuri sighed and Victor wondered what expression the man wore. “Girls, you don’t need to practice again—you know your routine inside and out.”
“But what if we mess up?” one of the girls asked. “They won’t pick us if we do,” another added.
“Even if you perform perfectly, they might not pick you,” Yuuri said with a hint of sadness in his words. “Sometimes you’re not what they’re looking for.”
“Why?” Victor could picture a look of puzzlement on the girl’s face.
“Because that’s just how auditioning works.”
“Is that why you don’t go to auditions anymore?”
Yuuri was silent long enough for Victor to guess that the answer was yes.
It was at this point that Victor felt guilty for eavesdropping. He probably should have gotten up and helped the girls find their mother when they first got in. Now Victor was listening to this entire conversation with nothing but the folding screen between them.
“Not exactly,” Yuuri finally said, hesitantly. “I just prefer teaching little ones like you how to dance.”
“Then can you help us go over our part again? Just once?”
Yuuri sighed again before he muttered something Victor couldn’t hear over the girls cheering.
“Let’s start from the beginning. Axel and Lutz, you’re over here. Loop, you can stay there,” Yuuri instructed, and Victor heard the girls get into position. “You guys are pretending to hide while the King is looking for you.”
“Play the part of the King!” one of the girls squealed, perking Victor’s interest.
Yuuri seemed to hesitate a moment before he delivered his lines perfectly. “Where oh where could my silly children be?”
Victor could see the scene in his mind as the girls giggled and ran across the room, pretending to hide in another spot. They were performing one of Victor’s favourite scenes of the movie, when the King and his daughters are playing hide and seek in the rose garden.
“Are they over here?” Yuuri sang, his powerful voice filling the tiny practice room. “Are they over there? Where oh where could my silly children be?”
The girls giggled again and sang, “You’ll never find us!”
The door burst open, making Victor jump and almost fall off the couch.
“You three are in big trouble,” a female voice scolded.
“Yuuko,” Yuuri said, sounding surprised. “The girls and I were just practicing.”
“You should have told me you found them!” Yuuko said, relief flooding her voice.
“Sorry,” Yuuri and the girls said in unison, making Victor smile.
“I know you girls love to practice, but you three are up next.”
The sound of three sets of little feet running across the hardwood floor and excited chatter filled the room, then fluttered down the hall.
Victor took a deep breath and exhaled, revelling in the once-again-silent practice room and at the relief of not getting caught. Then, a heartbeat later, the door closed and footsteps echoed off the walls. For a moment, Victor thought someone else had entered the room, nearly making Victor stand to admit defeat and get back to work, but before he could say anything, a hauntingly familiar tune filled the space, making his blood run cold.
Victor had heard the notes of Stay Close to Me thousands of times. At first, every time he performed that song, Victor sobbed as he sang the words his mother had written. He’d always told himself it was fine, as the words echoed the heartache and sorrow Victor felt in his grief. But as time went on, Victor could perform without the tears and with just as much emotion. The song always did a number on him—the experience was cathartic, leaving him emotionally exhausted.
In the original script, Stay Close to Me was much longer and was followed by another emotionally-charged song that Victor could barely get through. Yakov had suggested they keep the song short, foregoing the second number all together. Back then, Victor had agreed, but a part of him wished he hadn’t. Although the songs did nothing to further the plot of the musical, they were the songs Victor was most proud of. Closing his eyes, Victor listened as this man, Yuuri, played the piano accompaniment while singing the song that meant the most to him with a soft, beautiful voice. In his head, Victor sang along, realizing for the first time that if sung as a duet, the song could be even more impactful. Victor would have scolded himself for not thinking of the addition sooner if he wasn’t so enthralled by the sound of Yuuri’s voice.
Victor had sung the lyrics of Stay Close to Me thousands of times and was astounded when he realized that Yuuri was singing the original song, his song, not the one he’d performed on Broadway. He’d only performed the version Yuuri was now singing three times in that run-down theatre that no longer existed, but as Yuuri continued to sing, Victor felt tears begin to well in his eyes once more. The song sounded just as raw and emotional as Victor had remembered—but coming from Yuuri’s lips, it brought a new set of emotions that Victor could have never portrayed.
Without thinking, Victor stood and began to make his way towards the piano. The folding screen no longer blocking his view, Victor took in the sight of the beautiful man before him. Yuuri’s eyes were closed behind blue rimmed glasses as his fingers flew across the keys. He was so engrossed in the song, he didn’t hear Victor’s approach. Victor wiped the tears from his cheeks and watched as Yuuri gave Stay Close to Me a new meaning. Gone was the pain and sorrow of the past, breaking way for something that felt like hope and adoration.
Before Yuuri finished the song, Victor’s mind was made up. Yuuri was the missing piece he’d been searching for. Yuuri had to play the part of the King. And maybe Yuuri could help Victor in more ways than one.
Yuuri played the last few notes as a ghost of a smile touched his lips. When Victor began to clap, the smile vanished, replaced by a mixed look of shock and horror. Victor stopped clapping when Yuuri stood suddenly, knocking the piano bench to the floor.
“Oh my God,” Yuuri breathed, his face draining of colour. “You’re Victor Nikiforov.”
“And you have the voice of an angel, Yuuri.”
A light dusting of pink bloomed on Yuuri’s otherwise paled face as his eyes got even wider. “How do you know my name?”
It was Victor’s turn to blush as he pointed to the folding screen. “I was resting on the couch behind there while you and your nieces were practicing.
“Oh my God,” Yuuri repeated, hiding his face in his hands. “I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry?” Victor echoed. “If anything, I should be sorry for not announcing myself sooner.”
Yuuri made a sound that sounded like a squeak and a groan as he shook his head.
“But if I’m being honest,” Victor continued when Yuuri said nothing. “I’m thrilled I didn’t.”
Yuuri slowly dropped his hands and nervously met Victor’s gaze. Victor had always been adamant that fluorescent lighting was horrid and did nothing but cause headaches, but seeing Yuuri’s big brown eyes shine behind his square shaped glasses made Victor’s heart skip a beat. In nothing but his street clothes and tousled black hair, Yuuri was a vision. With the proper lighting and the right costume, he would look ethereal—more godlike than merely a King on stage.
“Why?” Yuuri asked, his voice a bit shaky.
“Because starting today, you’re my King.” Victor took a step forward and half expected Yuuri to take a step back—instead, Yuuri was frozen, his face blank with shock and confusion. “I’ll make you the biggest star Broadway has ever seen.”
Victor winked, which seemed to snap Yuuri out of his disbelief. “What?!”
Victor took another small step forward. “I’ve seen many people audition for the role of the King, and none of them matched you in range or talent.”
“What?” Yuuri repeated, softer than the first.
“The King—you know, the King in The King and the Skater?”
Yuuri seemed to blink away the confusion as realization lit his features. “I can’t.”
“Why not?” Victor took one last step forward, leaving only a few inches between them.
“I-I—” Yuuri stammered, then looked away. “I’m not very good.”
“Not very good?” Victor scoffed putting his hands on his hips. “I just heard you sing my song, Yuuri, and you’re fantastic. Maybe even better than me.”
Yuuri’s eyes snapped back to Victor’s. “What?! No way. You’re—” Yuuri gestured in Victor’s direction, his arms flailing. “You’re Victor Nikiforov. You’re a living legend. You’ve won like eight Tonys. And I’m just…” Wonderful, Fantastic, and Beautiful, were all on the tip of Victor’s tongue as Yuuri said, “Me.”
“Yuuri,” Victor said lightly. “If you know all those things about me, then why would you doubt me? I don’t mean to brag but I think I know what I’m talking about.”
“Because you don’t know me.” Yuuri said, his lower lip trembling.
“I’d like to know you,” Victor whispered, making Yuuri’s eyes go wide.
“I’m a mess.” Yuuri took a step away from Victor, almost tripping over the fallen piano bench. “I’m a nervous, anxious mess who can’t keep it together for an audition, let alone perform night after night.”
Victor had never been good with comforting people—he wasn’t sure what to do in this situation. “Stagefright is normal.”
“Not to my level,” Yuuri countered, wringing his hands.
“I can help you,” Victor offered sweetly. “I can coach you and help you practice until you feel confident enough to sing like you just did on stage.”
“I don’t know.” Yuuri looked down at his shoes, shifting from foot to foot.
“Let’s give it a try at least,” Victor said, offering Yuuri his outstretched hand.
Yuuri eyed Victor’s hand warily. For a moment, Victor thought Yuuri was going to refuse him. Then to Victor’s surprise, determination shone in Yuuri’s gaze.
“Okay,” Yuuri said, as he took Victor’s hand and squeezed.
“Stop, stop, stop,” Victor yelled from the first row of the empty theatre weeks later. “Take a deep breath and start again.”
“I can’t do this, Victor,” Yuuri shouted, running his fingers through his hair.
“Sure you can.” Victor stood and approached the stage. “You’ve been performing beautifully all week. You’re just nervous about tomorrow.”
“How can I get through tomorrow if I can’t even get through practice today?”
“You’ll be fine, Yuuri,” Victor said patiently. “I’ll be right there with you.”
“And what if I’m not?”
Victor took a deep breath and hoisted himself onto the stage. Yuuri’s arms were crossed as Victor made his way towards him and put both hands on Yuuri’s shoulders. “Then we delay another week.”
“We can’t afford to do that.” Yuuri held himself tighter.
“That’s for me to figure out, not you.”
“But—”
“No buts. Take a moment, count to ten, then start.”
“Okay,” Yuuri said, as he closed his eyes and tried again.
“I think I’m going to throw up,” Yuuri said, pacing back and forth in his dressing room. The first two weeks of rehearsals had been rough. Victor had run himself ragged to get both rehearsals and Yuuri on track—but his hard work paid off once Yuuri felt more comfortable with the cast and more confident in his own abilities.
“Twenty minutes ‘til curtain,” Georgi’s voice said into Victor’s earpiece and across the backstage speakers at the same time Yuuri ran for the tiny trash bin beside his desk. Victor rubbed circles into Yuuri’s back as Yuuri emptied his stomach.
“You know, I was in worse shape than you are right now before my first time performing Stammi Vicino.”
“So you’ve said,” Yuuri groaned.
“I just pretended like there was no one out there. I told myself the lights were so bright I wouldn’t be able to see the audience anyway.”
“Did that help?”
“Not really,” Victor admitted, finding it hard to voice the words he wanted to say. “I just thought of my mom and how proud she would have been if she was sitting out there.”
Yuuri raised his head from the trash bin and rested it on Victor’s shoulder. “Wherever she is now, I know she’s proud of you.”
“I know. Just like I’m proud of you.” Victor smiled kissing the top of Yuuri’s head. “I believe in you, Yuuri. You can do this. You’re going to walk out there, dazzle everyone just as much as you’ve bewitched me, then when it’s over, you’re going to take a bow to a standing ovation.”
“Okay,” Yuuri said. And he did.
Victor held Yuuri’s hand in his as the nominees for Best Performance by a Leading Actor in a Musical were announced. The King and the Skater had been nominated for nine Tony Awards and had already won four. Although Victor was proud of his entire team, and believed they all deserved to win, it was Yuuri’s performance that he most hoped would be recognized tonight.
“And the Tony goes to… Yuuri Katsuki, The King and the Skater!”
It took Yuuri a moment before the words sunk in and he turned to Victor with stars in his eyes. Victor gave him a quick kiss before he nudged him towards the stage. In that moment, Victor felt more happiness and pride than when he’d won his own Tony in the same category.
On stage, Yuuri clutched his award with both hands, his gold engagement ring glinting brightly in the stage lights. Victor had heard Yuuri’s acceptance speech a hundred times, making him practice even though Yuuri tried to convince Victor it was a waste of time.
“First, I’d like to thank my amazing family and friends for all their love and support. Special thanks to my nieces, Axel, Loop, and Lutz, who also starred in the show, for sneaking off that fateful day. I want to thank our remarkable cast for helping to pull off an amazing run, and for putting up with me while I overcame my insecurities. To our producers, Yakov and Celestino, it was an honour to work with both of you and I hope for the show’s continued success. And last but not least, I want to thank my amazing fiancé and director, Victor.”
Victor had heard Yuuri’s acceptance speech a hundred times, but no matter how many times he heard this part, Victor couldn’t hold back his tears or his love. “When I was eighteen, I took a job as a videographer for a small-scale theatre in Brooklyn. I filmed the original production of Stammi Vicino before it became the musical we all know and love today. Even back then, Victor amazed me and inspired me to be the best version of myself I could be. I made a copy of that performance when I shouldn’t have, and when I was down or lacked confidence, I would watch his performance to bring me up. You believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself and pushed me when I needed to be pushed. Winning this Tony is an amazing achievement, but loving you is my greatest reward. Thank you.”
The room erupted into applause, none louder than Victor himself. As Victor watched Yuuri walk off the stage, he silently thanked whatever powers brought Yuuri into his life. All the pain of the past was worth it if that’s what it took for them to meet. With Yuuri by his side, Victor felt like they could accomplish anything. And with a bit of luck, some bright lights, and a lot of love, they did.