Ice Uprising

Chapter Two

"Look, there's Viktor Nikiforov!" Lotta pointed out a tall and lanky man with short silver hair, dressed in some weird pinkish outfit. I wasn't judging the color, no no no, it was the weirdness of the outfit. This Viktor looked pretty good in pink. Back to the point, Viktor Nikiforov was familiar, not just in the sense that there were posters of him everywhere in Wiamalu. 

"He looks really familiar, Lotta. Not just because he's famous, but in the sense that I personally know him. It's odd," Furrowing my eyebrows, I leaned forward in my seat, staring intently at him, with his star-like hair. Viktor turned around, coincidentally looking right into my eyes, winking seducticely. 

"He looked at you, T!" Lotta squealed, her hands in fists right up to her chest. Staring absentmindedly back at Viktor, his movement snapped me out of my trance. 

"Tatiana Darby's my name, and figure skating's my game!" A five-year-old Tatiana Darby pointed at herself with her thumb, grinning lopsidedly. 

"Viktor Nikiforov. Ice skating's my game, too, I guess," The silverette boy smiled down at the girl, a soft look in his greenish-blue eyes. 

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Viktor!" 

"You too, Tatiana,"

"Hey, T! Snap out of it!" Lotta waved a hand in front of my face, drawing my mind out of my memory. "The performances are over, let's go see if we can meet Viktor!" Grabbing my wrist and pulling me along, Lotta dragged me around the building, looking for Viktor, the silver-haired boy I had met twenty years ago. 

"There he is! Viktor Nikiforov!" Lotta yelled out to the silver-haired man,  who was walking beside a short blonde kid. After exchanging words with the blonde, Viktor turned around to face a different boy, with black hair and brown eyes. After the other boy turned and walked away, Viktor faced back to an older man and the blonde boy. "Mr. Nikiforov!" Lotta called again, tapping the tall man's shoulder. Turning around slowly, Viktor gave the two of us a fake happy smile. 

"Do you two want a selfie?" With his fake happy face, Lotta nodded excitedly, practically chucking her phone at me. 

"I'll just take the photo," I flashed the two a flat smile, snapping a picture of the smiling people. 
"My name is Lotta Analia Camari, future coach to this little rascal here," Lotta placed a hand on my head, staring up at Viktor. Granted, the two both loomed about five or six inches above me, so there were never any objections to being called little. I had disappeared already, too nervous to talk to Viktor. As you might guess, talking to someone you hadn't seen in twenty years and had nearly forgotten about was nerve-wrecking. I could still hear Lotta's faint voice, chatting with Viktor. 

"Where's T?! Tatiana!" And everything slowly faded to black as I pushed my way the crowd, becoming more and more confused. 

"Do you think she's alright?'" A male voice spoke out faintly in the black abyss of nothingness. 
"This happens plenty of times to Tatiana. She gets faint of heart whenever she's nervous, just like her father's family, the Darbys," Lotta's voice filled my ears, slowly bringing me back to consciousness. 

"So her name is Tatiana Darby? Is she the woman who got amnesia from slamming her head against a wall too hard? In her senior debut, I think," The male voice spoke up again, the sound of Lotta awkwardly laughing filling my ears. 

"She didn't get amnesia from that! It was from a car accident with her cousins," Lotta, the master of telling lies. She knew all too well that because of a harsh hit on my head from figure skating, I had gotten amnesia.
 
"So she is Tatiana Darby?" Another voice, a younger one, piped up from the background, a Russian accent coated over his words. 

"Yes. Now give her some space, I think she'll be waking up soon," The shuffling of feet could be heard as I forced my eyes open. "Tatiana? Are you okay, girl? I called your aunt. She's coming here soon," ​

"Wait, Viktor, Yuri, why are we here again?" Yet another voice, this one low and scratchy, filled my ears, my eyes still blurry.

"Hello? Why is there talking?" My head was throbbing violently, causing a sharp pain to my temples every time I blinked. "Please stop talking!"

"Okay, okay, T. You three stop chittering!" Lotta turned, barking at the three males. Figuring that one of them was obviously Viktor, I tried to figure out who Yuri and the older man were. 

"Everyone move! I need to see, Tatiana!" A door flew open, and in came Aunt Serena, a worried look on her sickly pale face. "Baby, are you alright? I'm glad Lotta brought you here," Kissing my forehead, my aunt squeezed my face between her hands. 

"Ms. Ebony, I'm so sorry. It was my fault, I should've-" I cut Lotta off right away. She shouldn't be taking the blame.

"It was my fault. I agreed to go to the Grand Prix Final, and I agreed to follow Lotta around everywhere. And I, myself, walked away from Lotta." Uncle Rich had taught me one thing, and one thing only. Never let someone take the blame for something that was caused by your actions. 

"Lotta, I expected more from you. Tatiana, I expected more from you. Since I'll be going into work tomorrow, I have to leave. Lotta, bring T back when she's feeling better. I love you both," Blowing kisses at us, Aunt Serena turned sharply on her heel and marched out of the room, leaving everyone in slightly awkward silence. 

"Sorry, Lotta. I'm going back to sleep," Glumly, I turned on my side and dozed off into a deep sleep, but not before catching what Viktor had said. 

"Did she say Tatiana Darby? I used to know a Tatiana."