Change of Heart - Yuri Plisetsky x Reader

Chapter Three

I'm not sure what I expected when arriving in Russia, but I definitely wasn't picturing it as a colder version of (Y/c). The culture was different, sure, and the language (which I still struggled with immensely) was drastically different as well, but in terms of our family's popularity, it was pretty much exactly the same. As soon as we got out of the terminal, a few reporters (likely American) approached us and started badgering us about this whole "moving to Russia" thing.

"Mrs. (L/n)! The people of St. Petersburg would like to know why you've decided to make such a sudden and drastic change in the lives of you and your family!"

"We'd like to remain silent on that matter. Excuse us..."

"Would this sudden move happen to have anything to do with the upcoming April World Competition?"

"Please, if you would excuse us... We don't have time for questions right now."

"Please, just a statement. Mr. (L/n), one statement?"

"We've decided to remain quiet on the matter until after lunch today, sir. Excuse us."

It was honestly a bit shocking to me that the reporters had known about this trip. Either Mom and Dad had made it known to the public without my knowledge, or they'd just assumed we would be arriving soon due to the competition. I decided it was probably the former. We do attend quite a few tournaments, but I didn't want to think that the reporters were so desperate that they'd be willing to station in Russia just for the chance that we would arrive to answer some questions.

Whatever the case may be, life got hellishly chaotic upon our arrival in Russia. It took forever to get a taxi, and when we finally did manage to flag one down, it turned out to be driven by a fan. I tried my best to doze off in the back of the cab while the driver told my dad all about his own experience with martial arts. It felt like the ride would never end.

As if I had not already had enough of this day, the real cherry on top happened at dinner.

My parents were the sort of tourists that made people embarrassed to be seen with them. I mean, obviously they get a pass on that sort of thing because people actually love to be seen with famous actors, but if you saw them as normal humans and then saw the way that they act when they're on vacation, you would be pretending not to know them. Unfortunately for me, I'm their kid. I can't escape.

So, my parents had researched all about St. Petersburg before we arrived, and they'd debated for hours about which restaurants to go to, which sites to see, and etcetera. They'd decided that, for dinner, we would go to a seafood restaurant called the Parkshore Grill. That was where I found myself after such a hectic evening, and I tried my best to block out the rambunctious background noise while my parents obsessed over the "unique Russian cuisine" that we could probably have found in our hometown for less money.

I was digging into my crab legs, finally starting to enjoy myself, when they interrupted.

"So," My mom started, pausing to take a sip of wine. "Do you remember Ivan?"

I stifled a groan. Ivan had been my "agent" when I was younger. When I was ten, I'd had a major role in a martial arts movie for kids, the name of which I, strangely enough, cannot remember. I wouldn't have gotten that role if not for Ivan, but I'd also hated every second of my acting "career" because of him. I'd begged mom and dad not to make me work with him again, and, seeing my desperate expression, they'd agreed.

I knew Ivan had moved to Russia. I should've known something like this might happen.

"Yes..." I said slowly. "I remember Ivan. Why?"

My parents exchanged a look. I hate when they do that. It has an air of "we know you're not going to like this so we're going to pretend to give each other telepathic advice because we know it pisses you off."