Your blood 》Yuri On Ice

Blink

Victor Nikiforov

Other than nothing I feel anxiety. What I can hear is the hum of the cars engine as it drives down the busy road and not that heart monitor that seems to be keeping me alive.

Edwin parks infront of the barber I've been going to ever since I've lived here wordlessly, knowing I don't really want to have conversations with people, knowing I need space. 

I don't get out of the car straight away, first I take the time to look at the washed out colours of people and shops through the tainted glass and sigh profoundly.  I have to go out there, I have to take those three steps to get through the barbers door. Usually I walked, I loved to walk everywhere. Now I don't even want to step out of a car to step into a shop because I'm plagued by the fear of interaction. I know I'm not that famous but there's still a chance, a chance is enough to scare me. I think if anybody stops me to ask about my future ice skating plans or if Yuri has been found I'll have a panic attack. Just thinking about the prospect of one of these commuters recognising me clogs my throat.

People are already looking. It's because a black glossy Bentley with tinted windows pulls attention like a magnet and not because they know I'm inside but it still intimidates me.

"You know Victor, sometimes, one has to fight gravity"

When everybody's voices have lately sounded distant and underwater, Edwins tentative words loudly echo in my brain. They're verbal confirmation that he understands exactly what I'm thinking. He understands that what I feel is inevitable, like gravity but he's encouraging me to fight it, like Jewel was but this is more 'fight it in whichever way you wish' which is the decisive freedom I really need right now.

This battle I'll fight by sucking it up and going for it, all I have to do is open the door and step into the war zone.

I pat Edwins shoulder in silent thanks and push the door open before I can have doubts about it. It doesn't happen in slow motion as I expected, in literally three seconds I'm pushing open the barbers door and exhaling the tension out of my body.

"What is this!?" I hear that familiar Spanish accented voice my barber owns. Looking the most worried I've ever seen him, Ignacio walks up to me and lifts my dirty strands of hair in disbelief.

"You look like a tramp! Dios! I have to fix this" he grabs my good arm and sits me in my usual black leather chair infront of the mirror.

He wasn't exaggerating when he said I look like a tramp. Looking in the mirror, a man that looks like he's been living on the streets for weeks looks back. My hair is knotted and contains too many different colours, one of them still being red. My lack of sleep is really showing on my face and I'm still wearing the disgusting white dress shirt.

My new daily rutine is at foult; I spend all day at Yuris room, until I'm forced to return to my  own one and I face plant straight into the bed, without changing or showering, exhausted but utterly unable to sleep because I can't stand the lack of that beep around me. The rutine won't change now that I'm discharged, just instead of failing to sleep in my hospital bed I'll fail to sleep in my bed at Jewels castle.

I haven't said a thing to Ignacio but he's already behind me with scissors. I watch him take a section of my hair and chop it mercilessly. My eyes follow the dirty silver strands as they fall to the white tiled ground. A slight twang of sadness hits me like it would anyone who put work into mentaining such length but the feeling of relief over rides it.

Dear Wattpad,

STOP DELETING MY DAMN WORK! I HAVE NOT GOT TIME FOR YOUR SHIT. YOU ARE A HUGE COMPANY. FIX YOUR FUCKING APP. HOLY SHIT. THANKS TO YOU SOME OF THIS IS MISSING AND I CAN'T EVEN REMEMBER WHAT IT WAS.

THIS IS THE FOURTH
TIME THIS HAS HAPPENED TO ME. FUCK YOU.

Ok I'm done venting.  :)
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