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The call comes during the summer, a few days after the Game Changers Hockey Camp wraps up, while they’re at the cottage a few weeks before their wedding anniversary and two days after Shoma goes to his grandparents’ place.
They’ve hosted the Pikes for a few days, and sweet, sticky July hasn’t yet melted away into chilly, cozy August. Shoma is carefully hoisted atop Arthur Pike’s shoulder as they play soccer against Amber Pike in the front yard. Their child’s laughter is free and rambunctious, louder than the older Pike children as they smother their own laughter.
Everything is bolder during the summer; the blue sky is serene and picturesque, perfect; the lukewarm water of the lake while the older adults relax; the cool, refreshing lemonade being served with equally as cool, crisp veggie pasta salad during lunch. The scent of summer air combined with petrichor after light evening showers. The call of the loons on the water as the sun sets in shades of pink and orange. Anya’s little yips and whines as she enthusiastically chases after the children. They’ve earned this— this delicate peace, this elusive happily ever after.
After the Pikes’ visit, Grandma Yuna and Grandpa David comes by to collect Shoma for bonding time, to give Shane and Ilya a little bit of time alone together before their little family expands by one.
Baby girl is due any day now and Shoma is actually looking forward to having a little sibling, even going as far as picking out the colours of the nursery while the Pikes help baby-proof the cottage. They will be staying here for the rest of the offseason, taking complete advantage of the quiet and privacy to bond with their newest addition before relocating back to Ottawa.
”Hi boys, just wanted to let you know it’s time,” their surrogate’s wife Rachel says when she calls.
”We’re on our way,” Shane says, and Ilya nods, rushing to their room to pull on a pair of jeans and grab his keys.
”Take your time! I can take care of her until you guys get here,” Rachel says, and Shane can hear the smile in her voice.
⛸️⛸️⛸️
When they get to the Hospital, they’re immediately led to Sakura’s delivery suite. It was in their agreement that Shane and Ilya, as the intended parents, could remain with her during the delivery. Together with Rachel, they form an effective team; Shane and Ilya holding her hands as she pushed, her wife soothing her with gentle encouragement and forehead kisses.
”Keep going, Saki, you’re doing amazing,” their doctor encourages, and soon after the delivery room is filled with the sharp cries of a newborn.
”One more time, honey,” Rachel smiles, “Get the rest of her out.”
Shane and Ilya meet each other’s teary eyes as the doctor pronounces amid the newborn’s cries, “We’ve got a baby girl!”
Their daughter.
Once she’s checked out and deemed healthy, she’s relinquished into the temporary care of a nurse while Sakura signs the Consent to Parentage forms. Ilya and Shane do the same and Rachel signs as their witness. Then, they’re led to a separate private suite with a bottle of warm milk for her first feeding and first skin to skin contact. Ilya had insisted that since he’d gotten to experience all of it with Shoma, Shane should be the one to get to have the experience this time.
Ilya’s handed the Statement of Live birth to fill out, and the nurse allows Shane some privacy to remove his shirt. He settles onto a soft couch and carefully accepts her from the nurse, who coos softly, “Say hello to your daddies, little one. They’ve waited so long to meet you.”
She latches on quickly, and Ilya sits opposite to Shane, so they can both see what information is required.
Name:
“Hello, Yuri,” Shane smiles, as his daughter (his daughter!) settles into his embrace.
With a soft, devoted look on his face, Ilya writes her name.
Name: Yuri Anastasia Hollander-Rozanova
“She might hate us for giving her such a long name,” Shane laughs softly, running his fingers atop the soft, downy curls crowning her head. She’d been born with a head full of hair, like her brother.
”At least we dropped the patronymic. Then she would have hated us,” Ilya grins, “Can you imagine if we’d added in Ilyinichna?”
⛸️⛸️⛸️
The next day, the flowers Shane had ordered arrived. Sakura, still high on emotions and pain medication, had burst into tears at the sight of the stunning pink rose, peony and sunflower arrangement.
Shane made a special order for their girl too— she couldn’t have lillies, but that didn’t stop him from ordering her an equally as stunning arrangement of pink roses, white peonies and white tulips with eucalyptus and fern accents.
A white bow holds the arrangement together in the vase, keeping with the white lily theme he has going. The nurses seem genuinely touched by Shane’s thoughtfulness— “She’s my daughter. Of course, I’m always going to buy her flowers.”
Grandma Yuna and Grandpa David came around lunch time. Hurricane Shoma is with them to pick up the forms to drop off to their lawyers and to meet their new granddaughter.
“David, Yuna,” Ilya says, handing over the pink swaddle, “Meet Yuri Anastasia.”
”You didn’t name her after your mother?” Yuna asks, tucking her into the crook of her arm as David coos.
Ilya shakes his head, “My mother’s memory lives in me, in the Irina Foundation. I don’t ever want this precious little girl to feel like she’s living in someone’s shadow.”
”Anastasia,” Shane smiles at Yuna, “Means resurrection in Russian. We thought that was fitting.”
”And Yuri,” Ilya adds, “Well, you are the center of our universe, Yuna. And Yuri is Japanese for lily.”
Everyone smiles at that. Of course, the boys would be cheeky enough to include Lily somehow.
”Sakura means cherry blossom, and we wanted to honour her mother that way, too. So Yuna, Sakura, Yuri, and Irina, Anastasia. Connected forever.”
”Oh,” Yuna breathes, tears filling her eyes, “Oh, you boys are so sweet.”
Shane’s reminded of their reactions when they’d explained how they’d chosen Shoma’s name.
”Shoma means shining true, in Japanese,” Ilya said, “We always want him to be true to himself. And both his biological parents’ names start with S.”
”His middle name— the equivalent of Ilya is Elijah, which means The Lord is my God. D comes before E,” Shane rambles, tears in his eyes, “Dad, we love you so much and you’re the best man we know and you’re— you mean so much to both of us. So it’s Danil. Russian for God is my Judge. So Shane, Sakura, Shoma, and David, Ilya, Danil. Connected forever.”
⛸️⛸️⛸️
Yuri is an angel baby. She doesn’t fuss, doesn’t cry. She has dark blonde hair that twists into ringlets, and blue almond-shaped eyes. She has her brother’s straight nose and his Cupid shaped lips and a splash of freckles across her nose that would only get darker with time. Along with the freckles on her back, she has tiny moles like her father.
A little galaxy on her skin, Ilya thinks, Oh, she’s going to be a heartbreaker.
Both the children are.
”Malyshka, Papa would do absolutely anything for you,” Ilya confesses quietly, caressing the freckles on the bridge of her nose.
Ilya’s happy to see the freckles. They weren’t sure Yuri would get them, but Sakura had told them her father, had been befreckled, and it seemed to skip a generation, resulting in her and Rachel’s children being born with them. And theirs.
“Daddy, Papa and Shoma will have to beat up so many boys for you, da?” Ilya looks at her, tiny and warm in her little bassinet.
”We would have to what?” Comes a squeak at the entryway of her room. It’s Shane, and Ilya’s grin widens.
”Beat up the boys and defend her honour, solnyshko,” Ilya says, melting as she grabs hold of his finger.
”Of course,” Strong arms wrap around his waist from behind, and Shane smiles, a fierce thing, “We’ll always protect her.”
⛸️⛸️⛸️
Yuri isn’t fussy until she gets sick for the first time. Her distraught cries wouldn’t let up, neither would her fever and she’s making little wheezing noises, as if suffering from a cough. They’d relieved their nanny and had requested a week off from training. Shane grows increasingly worried and it’s getting harder and harder for him to breathe.
“Dada, can I help?” comes a short, high pitched voice, “I don’t like when she cries.”
It’s five year old Shoma, standing anxiously in the corridor. Shane feels out of control, now. He’s been rocking Yuri for the past hour and she wouldn’t settle. She’s been crying so loud, she woke up her brother.
In his arms, she continues to wail and wail and wail.
”Please, baby,” he finds himself whispering as he bounces her, on the verge of tears himself, “Please, settle. Why can’t I settle her?”
“Moya lyubov, enough,” it’s Ilya, taking Yuri easily from Shane’s arms. He’d forgotten his husband had been there the entire time, opening up windows, waiting for his own shift with the crying child and keeping a watchful eye on them both, “I’ll take care of it. Go take a shower and a nap.”
Shane.. is exhausted. He can’t remember the last time he did that. But he really doesn’t want to be separated from Yuri.
”Solnyshko,” Ilya repeats, “I’m your husband. Leave her with me. I’ll take care of it.”
And by the time Shane’s finished with his shower and has taken a nap, Yuna and David are here. David is keeping Shoma company in his room. Yuri’s settled in her grandmother’s sure grasp, and Ilya is already in joggers and a hoodie.
“Dr. Sheffield and Lisa are on their way to her office. We meet them there,” Ilya says, unlocking the Mercedes, with Yuna following to strap Yuri into her car seat.
When they stop at the pharmacy to pick up her medication, Shane picks up a bouquet of sunflowers to leave in her room. Maybe that would help cheer her up, too.
⛸️⛸️⛸️
It’s the flu, and she’s sent home with strict instructions for observation. Lisa Hayes tells them if she worsens over the next few days, call her and take Yuri to the ER. She’d see to it that the right people would be there to help them. Shane can’t thank Lisa enough.
Yuna finds Shane crying in the backyard next morning. It’s all been too overstimulating, and he’d been moving on autopilot. Everything was finally catching up with him.
He’s crashing.
”Oh, Shane,” she says, embracing him, “I know, I know, it’s been a hard few days, but remember, sweetheart, you have Ilya to lean on.”
”I feel like I did so many things wrong,” Shane confesses, “She wouldn’t even settle when I had her.”
”Baby, you and Ilya are still finding your footing as parents. Your children aren’t the only ones growing up. You both are, too. You did the best you could in the circumstances, and you absolutely did the right thing,” Yuna says, “No parents are perfect. All you can do is your best, which is all your children ever really want from you.”
Later that evening, wrapped in Ilya’s embrace, he hears his husband sigh heavily.
”Shane,” Ilya says, haltingly, and he freezes, dreading whatever Ilya wants to say. He’s seen the way Ilya’s been hyper focused on their children for the past few days and he knows what’s coming.
”I think this is my last season, moya lyubov. I’ve given the Centaurs so many years and the team doesn’t need me anymore. Between you, Bood and Haasy, you’ve got those boys. I’m not getting any younger, and hockey has given me so many incredible things. A home, a family, the love of my life,” Ilya says, “The rest of your career is up to you, lyubimyy, but Im ready to say goodbye. I want to be with them at home so I can be present for them. So that I can see their milestones and take care of them when they’re sick and it’s not fair to the team if I stay home, or apply for time off from training. The boys deserve a better captain than that. And I think now it’s time for Ilya the papa to supersede Ilya the hockey player.”
There. It’s out in the open.
”But who’s Shane Hollander without Ilya Rozanov?” It leaves his mouth before he can think twice.
They’d been pros since they were teenagers. Playing with Ilya was always a guaranteed certainty. Something permanent through all the highs and lows in Shane’s life. And he’s not sure if he’s ready to be on the ice without Ilya.
”You’re still the Shane Hollander,” Ilya smiles, “Ottawa’s son. Centaur Alternate. Canada’s golden boy. Prince of hockey. You’ll always be the Shane Hollander. And no matter what, our legacies will always, always be intertwined. Okay?”
”Okay,” Shane says, and Ilya kisses his forehead.
”We’ll be alright, moya lyubov. It’s all part of growing up.”
It’s the devastating end of a chapter for both of them. A sinking sense of finality.
And if Shane holds Ilya a little tighter after that, he’ll say he deserves to.
And if they both cry a little while in each other’s arms, he’ll say they deserve that, too.
⛸️⛸️⛸️
“Knife shoes, knife shoes, knife shoes,” Yuri chants, as Ilya laces up the skates. She’s five, and it’s her first time skating.
Of course, she takes to the ice like a duck to water. She laughs as Shoma holds her hand and drags her along the corners of the rink at a fast speed, Shane skating parallel to them, keeping an eye.
⛸️⛸️⛸️
She hates hockey, much to her fathers’ chagrin. Ilya and Shoma had been practicing puck handling when Ilya deftly steals the puck away from him.
”Hey!” Shoma grunts, “That was not cool! Drop the gloves, Papa!”
”Oh yeah?” Ilya grins, dropping his gloves, and they circle each other on the rink.
Shane laughs. Shoma may have his looks but he’s all Ilya with the mouth-running and boisterous personality.
”Oh no,” Ilya laughs, playfully scrimmaging with Shoma and toppling himself onto the ice as Shoma lightly pushes his knees, “You got me! First fight and you’re already taking out players twice your size!”
Yuri frowns beside him.
”What’s wrong, baby girl?” He asks, “You don’t like this?”
She shakes her head no, but her attention is quickly taken by the girls practicing spins on the rink.
The next week, they sign her up for figure skating lessons with the Rideau Skating Club.
She takes to that like a duck to water, too.
⛸️⛸️⛸️
At age nine, Yuri wins her first ribbons in the STARskate Pre-Novice competitions she’s signed up for, and at age forty-three, Shane Hollander officially announces his retirement from pro hockey.
At age ten, her coaches recommend she signs up for the Provincial Series in Ottawa, Sudbury and Keswick. She wins ribbons for those too.
At age eleven, they find out she’s assigned to the Eastern Ontario Sectionals. She medals.
Retirement’s worth it, for this, Shane thinks as he, along with Yuri’s uncles, the (former) Ottawa Centaurs, watch as his daughter accepts the gold medal. In his hand is an arrangement of lilies.
⛸️⛸️⛸️
Yuri is twelve when she gets her first period. Thank goodness for her mother, Rose and Sveta. Her fathers are useless. Papa gets emotional, and dad gets awkward.
⛸️⛸️⛸️
Yuri is thirteen and has been selected by Skate Canada for the ISU Junior Grand Prix. They ask her what name she’s competing under. Soft and sweet at the time, she smiles and says, “Shoma has Hollander. I’ll take Rozanova.”
Because of her age, she’s only given one assignment for now. She medals in the US and but is eliminated at the JGP quarterfinals.
She’s humiliated.
So she trains and trains. She trains till she’s dizzy from spinning and her feet are red, swollen, cracked and bleeding.
The coaches praise her for improving. It’s shallow and cold, like the feeling she got when she didn’t make the podium.
⛸️⛸️⛸️
Yuri wins Canada two silvers in consecutive ISU Junior Grand Prix Finals back to back at ages fourteen and fifteen and there’s double the pressure because she’s given two assignments. Her stats are just that good.
But they don’t make her happy. She looks at them and remembers the strict regimens, the intense skating hours, the slow icing out by her school friends when they realize her entire life is school, home, skate, repeat.
But that’s the price of being a prodigy.
Fifteen is the age it all comes crashing down. She stops enjoying figure skating altogether. She goes to Rideau to practice and she can feel the nasty glares the other girls give her. Juliana talks about her and thinks Yuri doesn’t know what she’s saying, but she does. Yuri amps up the cross training; she increases her ballet hours in addition to her skating. She strictly controls her eating, personally spending time with the club nutritionists and dietitians to plan menus. She’s an athlete, her body is a tool and she cannot afford to damage that tool.
Fifteen is a delicate age for figure skaters— she’s in the midst of puberty and she doesn’t need to lose her center of gravity and balance by adding on extra weight. A extra pound could lead to a career ending injury. This age distinguishes the mediocre figure skaters from the great, legendary ones. The ones who would go onto the Olympics. The ones who would make it to the senior level, the ones who would break world records.
She wants it. She wants the medals, the records.
Shoma startles her, standing in the doorway of her room.
”Stasia,” he says seriously, “What’s going on with you?”
It’s their thing. He never calls her Yuri.
”What do you mean?” She plays dumb.
”You told dad you bought lunch today. I didn’t see you in the cafeteria,” he narrows his eyes, “And don’t play that you probably missed me shit. None of the boys saw you either. Andi says you haven’t been in the cafeteria for the entire week. So what the fuck’s up?”
She’s speechless. Shoma brought home girls. She brought home medals. He is the dumb jock brother. She’s the strait-laced sister. He isn’t supposed to notice these things.
”You’re with Andi now?” She hopes she didn’t falter too long before sending the question his way, hoping he misses her attempt at changing the subject.
”Don’t try to change the subject. Fix your shit,” he says in his captain’s voice, a tone he picked up from their fathers, “Before I have to tell our parents about it.”
The next day, she almost faints in school. A boy named Theo catches her with a, “Whoa!” He takes her to the nurses office where she lies and says she’s just dehydrated with a headache, and there’s no reason to call her parents. The nurse lets her off with a warning that if it happens again, they were going to have to involve her parents.
Okay, is what she says, I’ll buy something from the cafeteria.
And she does.
After school, she goes down to the rink and skates until she throws up.
⛸️⛸️⛸️
Theo keeps an eye on her. He’s cute— brown hair, blue eyes. Wears glasses that she’s obsessed with. He plays guitar on the school band and is the president of the chess club. He’s normal. He doesn’t play hockey, nor is he obsessed with it like the freaks in her family. He’s just a casual observer.
They talk a lot. He tutors her in bio and math, which is how she gets her number. She invites him to one of Shoma’s games, and he asks her to go for milkshakes after.
⛸️⛸️⛸️
It’s the best evening of her fifteenth year.
Theo kisses her, soft and sweet, and Yuri likes it a lot. She can’t stop smiling as she closes her front door. Her parents are on the sofa, waiting up for her.
”So….” Dad trails off, smiling knowingly at her, “How was it?”
She blushes.
”He’s my boyfriend,” she says, shyly.
Her papa gasps, holding a hand to his heart as if he’s been personally betrayed. Dad whacks his shoulder with a playful, “Ilya!”
⛸️⛸️⛸️
”She only made the team because of her last name,” Juliana rolls her eyes, “She skates like shit and can’t even win a gold medal, and there’s talent on this team that can. It’s not fair. The coaches just pay more attention to her because of who she is. And she’s ugly to boot. The other day, I saw her wobble on her skate—“
Juliana doesn’t realize she’s in one of the stalls of the bathroom until the door swings open and they’re face to face. There’s a brown skinned girl washing her hands, eyes angrily looking at her reflection. And honestly, Yuri is tired. So she lives up to her father’s last name.
She decks the shit out of Juliana and breaks her nose.
⛸️⛸️⛸️
Her parents are called down to the rink. Juliana’s mother is threatening to press charges. It all sounds muffled to Yuri, until the girl from the bathroom speaks up.
”Ma’am, all due respect, if I wasn’t one fight away from a rink suspension myself, I would have hit Juliana,” she says, “She’s been talking shit about Yuri and her family for years and Yuri just takes it. Some of the other girls tried reporting it but you all did nothing. In my view, there’s only one solution left. Talk shit, get hit.”
”What?” Juliana’s mother says, looking confused, “What has she been saying?”
Yuri squeezes her eyes closed, wishing she could disappear. Things were spiraling. Fast.
”She makes fun of the shape of Yuri’s eyes. Her freckles. The fact that Yuri is a member of the National Team because her last name is Hollander-Rozanova. About the fact that she has two dads. She started a nasty and quite frankly homophobic rumor about Yuri that out of respect for her, I don’t care to repeat,” And wow, Yuri should learn this girl’s name because of the way she’s standing up for her.
”Is that true, Juliana?” Her mother demands, angrily. Juliana lowers her eyes but says nothing.
”Then you deserved what came your way. Mr. Hollander, Mr. Rozanov, I’m truly sorry that I spoke about pressing charges before I knew about the extent of the situation,” the woman apologizes, genuinely, “I’ll have a talk with her father. He must be where she picked that up from.”
“Thank you,” her papa says, because her dad looks too angry to speak, “And as for Yuri, do I need to enroll her in a different skating club? Because from what I understand, club members came to you with concerns about the bullying of another member and your staff did nothing about it.”
“Mr. Rozanov, you have my word, we will be looking into this—“
”Good. Because if this situation isn’t handled, we will be removing Yuri as one of your skaters.”
As they exit the manager’s office, the girl chases them down.
”Yuri!” She calls, handing her a piece of paper, “Hey. I—I just wanted to give you my number. If you want to talk or be friends outside the rink, let me know.”
She remembers it then— the girl’s name is Daria, and she would become Yuri’s best friend.
⛸️⛸️⛸️
When they get home, her dad speaks. He sounds heartbroken, “Why didn’t you tell us this was happening, Yuri?”
She’s too tired to deal with this.
”Why can’t you just leave it alone?” She snaps, slamming her bag down.
”Hey,” her papa warns, taking a strict tone he rarely ever uses with them, “You don’t get to talk to him like that. Apologize, now.”
“Fucking make me,” Yuri rolls her eyes.
”Yuri!” It’s her dad again, “Up to your room. Cool down and then we’ll have this conversation again.”
⛸️⛸️⛸️
In the kitchen, Shoma listens in to them bicker.
”Fucking make me. Where the hell did she pick up that attitude?”
”Oh, you should know, Ilya,” Shoma can practically see his father rolling his eyes, “Considering you’ve used that exact phrase before.”
Okay, now is the best time to go in, otherwise they would bicker with each other for the next hour. Sauntering in, he says, unceremoniously. “So one of you needs to talk to Stasia.”
Ilya whirls around to face his son, “What do you know that we don’t?”
”She hasn’t been eating,” Shoma says, “When she does, she works herself so hard on her skates, she vomits it all back up. Theo told me he doesn’t know how long she’s been doing it, but he found out when he went to watch her skate yesterday. He told me about it during our lunch break, but you can’t say you heard about it from either of us because then she’ll stop telling us shit.”
”Fuck,” Shane mumbles, running a hand down his face.
⛸️⛸️⛸️
She hears her door open, but doesn’t turn around. She’s curled up on her side, back facing the door. She feels a warm, strong presence lying behind her.
When you were young, dochenka, she can hear her papa coo, You were closer to your daddy. He was the first to hold you, you know? You wouldn’t go to sleep, unless he was the one holding you.
She breaks, hot fat tears rolling down her cheeks.
”Daddy, Daddy,” she’s suddenly a little girl, needing him more than anything. She rolls around, burying her head in his chest and he embraces her tight, running his hands through her hair, “Daddy, I’m sorry, please don’t hate me.”
”Oh, baby,” he whispers, “Let it out. I’ve got you.”
”I’m not happy,” she sobs, heaving, ugly, broken tears, “I should be. But I’m not and I don’t know why. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t know what to do.”
His hand freezes in her hair for just a moment. He holds her gently for what seems like forever, until her cries become sniffles.
”I’m sorry I swore at you,” she sniffs, guilt eating at her as she thinks of him— his steady embrace and his kind eyes and his silent strength and resilience.
”Hockey player,” he says, forcing her blue eyes to meet his brown ones, “Hazard of the old job. Just don’t do it again. We can talk, if you want. If you’re ready.”
So she does. She tells him all of it.
The next morning, there’s a fresh vase of lilies in her room.
Dad and Papa sit on either side of her bed the next morning.
”When I was younger,” Dad says, intertwining his fingers with each other. It’s such a child-like gesture, and so out of character for him that it surprises her, “I remember thinking of my body as a tool.”
She holds her breath. This wasn’t something he’d ever told them.
”In order for that tool to keep working, I had to keep an eye on what was going into it. Anything extra, or anything unhealthy could change the trajectory of the tool functioning as it should. As a pro athlete, a public pro athlete at that, there were only so many aspects of my life that were my own to control. So I could do that. Control what went into the machine. Until I reached a stage where I had to get help. When I started getting help, I learned what disordered eating was. And the effects it could have on a young athlete’s body.”
”And you know, I see Galina because sometimes I feel things that don’t always make my head feel good?” Papa says, reaching over to hold her dad’s hand, “We—Your father and I— think that whenever you’re ready, you should have a talk with Galina, too.”
⛸️⛸️⛸️
“Okay,” Shoma says, bursting into her room, “I need to ask you something and you cannot be an asshole about it.”
”Dude, do you even knock?” She rolls her eyes, “And what is it? Because only when I know what it is, then I can decide if I want to be an asshole about it.”
“Okay, so the captain of the Russian national team—“
”The one who shoved you violently into the boards and bruised you for days, yes.”
”Fuck you. But yeah. Him. He, uh. He’s in trouble and he needs some help. He, uh. Called me and asked if I could come get him. What do you think I should do?”
”I think you shouldn’t cause another national scandal,” Yuri says, “What kind of trouble is he in? Where would he even stay? And how did he get your— you know what? Forget I asked that.”
”He DM’d me. There’s a video circulating around of him kissing his childhood best friend and their team didn’t take that too well. He’s um. Been in better shape, and he can’t stay there and I’m the only Canadian… Well, the only Canadian he feels comfortable to talk to and who also happens to speak Russian. He can, I dunno, stay over on our couch?”
”Why are you even asking me?”
”Because. If you think it’s a good idea, then the dads would more than likely be okay with it,” Shoma reasons.
”Our parents are gay, they’re not going to oppose the idea of you pulling off this little rescue and helping him out, especially if his teammates reacted violently,” Yuri snorts, “But did you forget how Montréal treated dad after they found out about—“
”No, it’s not like that with me and Nikolai. I’m genuinely worried about him. His messaged sounded very distressed. Also fuck the Metros and fuck Russia while we’re at it, too.”
Yuri sighs, rubbing her temple.
”Listen, go and help your friend. I’ll cover for you. Just set him up at a hotel or something you both have received huge-ass signing bonuses. Can he not afford a hotel room?”
”Oh my god, thank you, you’re such a lifesaver, Stasia,” Shoma grins, ruffling her hair, before shuffling out of her room.
”Get out of my room, dude. I have a JGPF to win tomorrow.”
Theo is coming. All that extra yoga and Pilates training with dad was going to pay off beautifully in her choreography. The custom Versace made costume was a personal gift to her from Aunt Rose. The jewelry she would be wearing was hand picked by Aunt Sveta. Her mother would be attending, cheering from the stands. Her father would give her another beautiful bouquet of lilies, she she’ll wear one behind her ear for good luck. And her papa would be up at the crack of dawn to help with her nails and makeup.
Skating was fun again. She would go out there on that rink with the love and support of so many surrounding her.
She’s going to win the gold this time.
She knows it.