Georgi's music is tinny through the wall of the stairwell as they climb back up, but Victor's not listening to it, anyway. Was that the right thing to do? He doesn't know. Should he have even opened his mouth at all?
You don't need to say anything!
Whether Yuri meant that or not, they've both lapsed into silence, now, but it's a troubled one on Victor's part. He should have prepared for this somehow, or guessed that it might happen. If Yuri had woken up this morning with a broken wrist, or a cough, or a sudden inability to remember his choreography, he would have known something was wrong, right? How had he been caught so off guard?
Yuri had done so well yesterday. He'd been sublime, yesterday. Victor thought he knew how well he'd done, and that it would bolster his confidence. How could he have predicted it might have the opposite effect? But he should have. He's Yuri's coach. He's let those lines get too blurred, and it ended up harming Yuri today, and whatever Yuri says about only needed Victor to stand by him and have faith, he'd done this wrong.
Up through the green room now, Yuri's face is dry, but his eyes are red and puffy, and Victor's throat feels swollen and painful every time he swallows, like there's some clump of razor blades down there he can't figure out how to breathe past. He's keeping their pace slow and steady, and he only lets go to find the water bottle Yuri hadn't been able to open earlier and the tissue box that is sadly not as comforting as the real Maccachin would be while Yuri put on his skates. Georgi's music is an aggressive swell as they head in towards the rink, and he wishes it didn't sound like such an accusation.
I'll save you now, really?
But they're approaching the end of the line, now, and there's nothing else to do when the music ends and Georgi bows but take up his spot at the rink wall, and try to figure out what he can say now.
As if there were some last-minute confidence to impart into Yuri. As if he knew what to say at all.
(He probably should have asked Yakov what to do in situations like this.)
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Date: 2017-04-09 02:58 pm (UTC)You don't need to say anything!
Whether Yuri meant that or not, they've both lapsed into silence, now, but it's a troubled one on Victor's part. He should have prepared for this somehow, or guessed that it might happen. If Yuri had woken up this morning with a broken wrist, or a cough, or a sudden inability to remember his choreography, he would have known something was wrong, right? How had he been caught so off guard?
Yuri had done so well yesterday. He'd been sublime, yesterday. Victor thought he knew how well he'd done, and that it would bolster his confidence. How could he have predicted it might have the opposite effect? But he should have. He's Yuri's coach. He's let those lines get too blurred, and it ended up harming Yuri today, and whatever Yuri says about only needed Victor to stand by him and have faith, he'd done this wrong.
Up through the green room now, Yuri's face is dry, but his eyes are red and puffy, and Victor's throat feels swollen and painful every time he swallows, like there's some clump of razor blades down there he can't figure out how to breathe past. He's keeping their pace slow and steady, and he only lets go to find the water bottle Yuri hadn't been able to open earlier and the tissue box that is sadly not as comforting as the real Maccachin would be while Yuri put on his skates. Georgi's music is an aggressive swell as they head in towards the rink, and he wishes it didn't sound like such an accusation.
I'll save you now, really?
But they're approaching the end of the line, now, and there's nothing else to do when the music ends and Georgi bows but take up his spot at the rink wall, and try to figure out what he can say now.
As if there were some last-minute confidence to impart into Yuri. As if he knew what to say at all.
(He probably should have asked Yakov what to do in situations like this.)