With Yuri out of his line of sight, he can start working through everything he just saw, make mental notes (and a few jotted on the small notepad in his coat pocket) and take a careful look at the line-up. Yuri's last in his group, which isn't a bad spot to be: he won't be able to tweak his program to counter whatever Chris and Georgi do, but Victor doesn't want him making sweeping, unilateral changes to the routines anyway.
All he needs to do is skate clean and get a technical score to match his performance, and he'll hit the podium for sure. No one else has the level of technical difficulty they've worked into Eros, so if he gets it right, the way he has been, he'll blow them all away. The judges. The audience. The skaters coming after him. It's a simple matter of numbers ... or should be. Would be, for him. Has been, in all the hours they've spent calculating what Yuri needs to win, and how to build a program to showcase his skill and artistry to their best effect.
Was, before Yuri woke up this morning like ... whatever this is, that doesn't seem like simple nerves. It's not like before, when Yuri seemed distracted and low-energy, and it's not like Onsen on Ice, where it seemed like any errant breath might shatter him into a million pieces.
This is something new, and Victor's tapping the stub of a pencil at his lips, considering how best to utilize it or settle it, when there's a click-click-click of skate guards on carpet, and he turns to see Georgi, who returns his wave, with Yakov behind him, who doesn't, but who pauses after Georgi turns towards the locker rooms, even if his back stays to Victor.
Hmm?
"I hope you're enjoying yourself."
Making Victor bark a short and startled laugh, that sounds more uncertain than he'd like. "Of course. Don't you find coaching to be fun, Yakov?"
The shoulders in front of him tighten, and then there's Yakov's bulging eye, glaring at him from under the brim of his ever-present hat. "If it's a joke to you, you'll ruin his career as well as your own. But when have you ever thought of anyone but yourself?"
He can't count the number of times in his life when Yakov has called him selfish. Arrogant. Self-absorbed, thoughtless. It's easy enough to pretend this one doesn't land, either, but there's a cool tension to his smile and it never makes his eyes crinkle, even as Yakov turns to stomp away, obviously feeling he'd done his duty by issuing his dire warning.
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Date: 2017-04-02 03:45 pm (UTC)All he needs to do is skate clean and get a technical score to match his performance, and he'll hit the podium for sure. No one else has the level of technical difficulty they've worked into Eros, so if he gets it right, the way he has been, he'll blow them all away. The judges. The audience. The skaters coming after him. It's a simple matter of numbers ... or should be. Would be, for him. Has been, in all the hours they've spent calculating what Yuri needs to win, and how to build a program to showcase his skill and artistry to their best effect.
Was, before Yuri woke up this morning like ... whatever this is, that doesn't seem like simple nerves. It's not like before, when Yuri seemed distracted and low-energy, and it's not like Onsen on Ice, where it seemed like any errant breath might shatter him into a million pieces.
This is something new, and Victor's tapping the stub of a pencil at his lips, considering how best to utilize it or settle it, when there's a click-click-click of skate guards on carpet, and he turns to see Georgi, who returns his wave, with Yakov behind him, who doesn't, but who pauses after Georgi turns towards the locker rooms, even if his back stays to Victor.
Hmm?
"I hope you're enjoying yourself."
Making Victor bark a short and startled laugh, that sounds more uncertain than he'd like. "Of course. Don't you find coaching to be fun, Yakov?"
The shoulders in front of him tighten, and then there's Yakov's bulging eye, glaring at him from under the brim of his ever-present hat. "If it's a joke to you, you'll ruin his career as well as your own. But when have you ever thought of anyone but yourself?"
He can't count the number of times in his life when Yakov has called him selfish. Arrogant. Self-absorbed, thoughtless. It's easy enough to pretend this one doesn't land, either, but there's a cool tension to his smile and it never makes his eyes crinkle, even as Yakov turns to stomp away, obviously feeling he'd done his duty by issuing his dire warning.
That wasn't helpful.