Spotlight (Yuri Plisetsky x Reader) ✔

34. Perspective

(Yuri's POV)

I opened the door to training in the morning, after a long and sleepless night.

"What are you staring at?" I muttered at Irina as I walked past her.

"Nothing."

I walked through the reception as quickly as possible, then opened the door into the ice rink.

Everybody's heads looked up as they saw me come in. They were standing around each other. It wasn't hard to guess what they had been talking about.

They stared for too long. I smirked and turned to the changing room.

Instead of getting changed, I stopped as I heard the door open.

"Is Yuri here?" Lilia asked them.

"Yeah," Giorgi started. "He went to get changed."

"Right. Don't talk to him today. I know you've all seen the headlines. Avoid him, and it'll all pass."

Without thinking straight, I slammed the door open, and walked straight past them and out through the door.

Completely ignoring whatever Irina yelled, I threw open the door, and, as I expected, the paparazzi were there to block my way. I threw up my hood, and tried as best I could to push through them.

I hadn't done this in a while. I normally had a guard, or Yakov, to push through and keep a clear passage for me. I didn't care about any pictures, or about anything they asked. Let them ask. Let there be pictures. She obviously didn't hold back on that oppurtunity last night.

With that horrible vision in my head, along with the constant drumming, harsh questions that were being yelled at me, I angrily broke through, and ran.

I ran until nobody was following me anymore. I found the quietest, more private cafe, and just sat in there to catch my breath. 

The icerink was one of my only safe havens, and even that wasn't safe anymore, not with all the empathetic looks and the knowledge that they all knew what was happening.  

I sat there, on a table for two, alone, for about an hour, trying to think of things to do, things to say, and most importantly, things to get rid of the situation.

I couldn't just get on a train to Moscow to stay with my grandfather. What if I bumped into her? Or worse, both of them?

I didn't want to believe it. When I saw the pictures. I trusted her. They were only together because they were filming a movie together. That's what I wanted to believe. Then more and more photos were released, and my hopes, along with my trust, disappeared.

I then did the most stupid thing that I could have done. I opened my phone. Three missed calls from Giorgi and four from Yakov. I ignored them, and went straight to the online articles that featured me. The photos were there, and I read every single article, and analised every single photograph.

"[F/N] [L/N] spotted on date with Alec Popovich in Moscow."

"A great love triangle begins." 

"No comments yet as to their relationship status. One thing's for sure, in the Yuri vs Alec row, we know who [F/N] is backing."

That last article was enough to convince me to go back to Lilia's house, and wait until they'd inevitably come looking for me.

* * *

"Yuri!"

"Go away Giorgi."

Giorgi and Mila rushed into the room.

"Please, leave me alone."

"Yakov and Lilia aren't here."

"I don't care. Can you go?"

"Are you drinking Whiskey?"

"No."

They only had to see the enormous, half-empty bottle to know I was lying.

Mila took the bottle away as quickly as possible, then came back to sit opposite me at the table, next to Giorgi.

"We weren't allowed to leave until we'd finished training. Yakov said to leave you alone. Obviously that was a stupid idea."

My head was leaning back on the head of the chair, staring at the wall.

"Look, Yuri. I know what my brother's like. That is him trying to get her on his side. He's trying to hypnotize her."

"Let him do it. I don't care about her."

"That's ths biggest load of crap I've ever heard. Look, you've got an article on her on your phone..."

"Okay, detective Mila." I threw my hands over my head and rubbed my eyes. "Stop talking about them please." And my phone was put on the table, away from me.

"We have to talk about it-"

"Nope, nope, no we do not."

They were quiet.

I closed my eyes. "I think I love her," I whispered.

"Don't say that, Yuri. You're drunk. You aren't thinking straight..."

I looked at Mila and leaned over the table.

"Oh, but I think I am. I love [F/N]."

"She broke up with you."

"I don't care. I want to talk to her. I need to see her."

"Alright, alright. Come on, let's get you cleaned up." Giorgi helped me up and took me to the bathroom to clean my dirty, tired face.

While Mila was on the phone to Yakov, Giogi frowned at the alcohol stains on my shirt.

"I want to be at home with my wife. But no, I have to sort you out."

"I'm sorry," I muttered, calming down and coming to a sad realization.

"Look, Yuri. I know we don't talk much anymore. I'm sorry about my brother. He was such an asshole. It wasn't... wasn't a good time."

"I don't think about it anymore. Don't worry about it Giorgi."

"He should get arrested for what he did," he whispered. "And she knows it."

"I really want to talk to her."

As if my prayers were answered, my phone went off, with a new article arriving on my home page.

"[F/N] [L/N] speaks out about EVERYTHING Yuri Plisetsky in her first interview since starting filming in Russia."