[Rybinsk] Some turn to dust or to gold (Valera)

Sunday, 9th November 2003.

Since her return to training after the week or so that she was forced to take a break, Anastasiya had noticed that her schedule had become a lot more social. She was having her lunch breaks with either Andrey or Veronika, sometimes her mother, though she mostly spent dinner with Alyona. Nastya knew that it was entirely her mother’s doing, and the senior artistic flyer did appreciate it. She tried her best not to complain, she tried to not step out of line so that her companions could not return to Alyona with an unfavourable report. Nastya didn’t want to cause her mother any more concern than she already had. She wanted to be healthy, to train, and she wanted to be there for her elder sister. Of course, when she was at the flying school, Nastya didn’t have any time to think about Aglayka, she had to work hard to catch up on all the time she had missed.

Nastya’s return to training had been staggered. First, she just began with the dance classes, the strength and conditioning work and flexibility classes. That was the week that she had spoken to both Andrey and Veronika about having a second coach. She began working with Veronika, finally, the week after. They only worked together in the studio at the start, trying out all the different styles of dance to find the style that she sucked at the least and potentially use it for her new free program. By the end of the week, they were working together on the beams as well. The next week was when Nastya ultimately had proven herself stable enough to return to flying on her broom, though she only did group work with Andrey.

It was now the last day of her first full week. Everyone around her was busy now, really beginning preparations for the gala during the Christmas holidays. There were already posters of herself and Anatoliy put up in many areas around the school. Nastya found that she was still very uncomfortable with it, remaining unsure if she was actually willing to perform. She still had to pick music to perform to, since she didn’t have a free program yet that she could have debuted. In her eyes, there wasn’t much hope of there being any progress on that front anytime soon. Anastasiya wondered if Veronika was beginning to regret agreeing to work with her. Her new coach was strict, perhaps even stricter than Andrey. She did like working with the former champion, Nastya knew she deserved the criticisms she was being given, and she was trying hard to work on the comments. However, sometimes she was becoming frustrated and felt inferior, stuck in the shadow of her superior elder sister.

Nastya stood there in the school’s cafeteria running through Veronika’s remarks in her mind. Her jazz had been ‘too wooden’, her cha-cha had been ‘lifeless’ and that morning they had worked on a waltz where Veronika had called her a ‘gargoyle’. The athlete didn’t normally take such comments to heart but that one had really hurt her.

The cafeteria was quiet, as was usual for a Sunday, as the younger students normally took a day off. So far, in the five minutes that Nastya had been standing there just staring at her options, only a few other seniors had come in and out every so often. No one approached her through. They never did. Clearly her coaches and family were all busy and she had been left, for once, to her own devices. Nastya was convinced that Alyona hadn’t sent anyone to check on her.

Anastasiya knew she needed to choose something, anything, though and she could hear what she thought her mother would say in her head, telling her to pick something hearty and filling, that she should have juice instead of coffee. She didn’t want to be uncomfortable with a full stomach when she trained in the arena with Andrey though, and so she chose a chicken salad sandwich with an orange for dessert and (after great debate) the coffee instead of apple juice. That was surely good enough.

She moved with her tray towards the back corner of the cafeteria, hoping to hide where no one would be able to see her (or so she thought). Sliding the tray onto the table, Nastya sat down and looked up to see the poster of herself facing her. It instantly made her tense up. She didn’t feel like she was good enough anymore to be plastered all over the school. Once upon a time, she’d have been overjoyed that she was finally getting some recognition, she remembered a time when she had been so angry that her pictures hadn’t been taken. Now though, she just felt like an imposter.

Removing her jacket, Nastya revealed her dark purple catsuit which still fit loosely on her compared to the perfect fit it used to be. Thinking that the coast was clear, Nastya chucked the jacket at her face on the poster in an attempt to cover it. It slid off of the poster and landed unceremoniously on the floor and she found herself staring back into her own eyes again. Anastasiya’s jaw clenched as her hands balled into fists.

She glanced down at the sandwich and the orange, before looking back up at her poster as she bit down on her lip and narrowed her eyes. She grabbed her sandwich, wondering how good of a projectile it could possibly be. Perhaps the orange would be more satisfying to throw though? Nastya glanced back down to let go of the sandwich and pick up the orange instead. The question was: should she peel it first or not? She shook her head to herself, that was too much time and effort. Perhaps the sandwich was the best thing to throw, the mayonnaise could probably smear across her face and at least partially hide it. Nastya let the orange roll out of her hand, and she removed the top layer of bread for maximum mayonnaise coverage as she scooped up the sandwich again ready to lob it at the poster again, hoping that somehow the poster that mocked her so would disappear.

@Valera Tikhomirova

Finally the updated display posters were complete, and Valera had brought them to the shop first thing that morning. In between a steady yet slow stream of customers - about normal for a morning - ve had worked on the displays and now was just about satisfied. A quick glance at the clock told vir it was lunchtime. Sometimes ve liked to visit the cafe down the road, particularly when the school cafeteria was likely to be crowded. Today though there were no forthcoming contests and thus ve locked the shop and made the short walk to the cafeteria.

As expected it was quiet as ve crossed to the counter and surveyed the options. Grigory was currently at home and had offered to cook this evening, so ve decided on a roast beef sandwich and a banana milkshake, smiling to virself with the knowledge that that particular item wasn't included on the menu to please the youngest members of the flying school but because of Valera's own passion for the rather childish beverage. As ve turned to choose a seat, a flash of colour seemed to fly across the room. As ve watched, it hit the wall and slid down onto the floor where it lay.

Okay... Valera glanced in the direction the movement had originated and felt a twinge of concern. More than a twinge, if ve was honest. Vir niece was seated near the back of the cafeteria, picking at her own lunch. Valera detoured towards the jacket, balancing vir tray in one hand as ve picked it up with the other. Then ve walked casually over to Nastya's table and sat down opposite. The young woman was peeling her sandwich apart rather than eating it, which made Valera's discomfort increase. Alyona had mentioned that Nastya wasn't eating properly and apparently that extended to training sessions.

"It's been far too long since we lunched together, don't you think?" ve said in a conversational tone as ve sat down, putting Nastya's jacket on the seat beside vir and not mentioning it. Then ve picked up vir own sandwich and peeled off the top layer, mirroring vir niece's movement but saying nothing as ve raised the bread to vir lips and took a small bite as if this was the most natural thing in the world. After a moment, ve quitely asked "How's training going?" before taking a sip of vir milkshake.

Anastasiya had not thought that anyone else was in the cafeteria, and so the sudden company startled her. She jumped in her seat as she gasped and let the sandwich fall back onto its plate on the tray as she raised a hand to her heart that was thumping against her catsuit in an attempt to calm herself quickly. At least with her Omner there, Nastya had something else to focus on rather than the poster. Her eyes fell on her team jacket as Valera placed it beside vir, and Nastya gave her Omner a ghost of a smile for a second, grateful for Valera’s kindness.

“Oh…” Nastya began in reply to Valera saying that they had not had lunch together for a while, trying to think of sensible words to say as she glanced up to her poster again with a scowl forming before she could stop herself. “Yes. It has been a while…” She muttered weakly, clearly distracted, as she tried to tear her eyes away from the abomination that was on the wall and try to be more polite and pleasant company. The senior artistic flyer reluctantly glanced at Valera again and Nastya felt distinctly supported and not judged as she watched Valera remove the top layer of vir sandwich, just as she had done and take a bite. It was really nice to not have a shifty glance, a judging comment and just… acceptance. Nastya had to clench her jaw and swallowed hard trying to maintain some composure as she felt tears welling up in her eyes, something that was happening far too often for her in recent times. To distract herself, she rescued a bit of chicken from its mayonnaise prison, wiping it on the top layer of bread to remove the excess mayonnaise before taking a few bites as Valera asked her how training was going.

“I…” Anastasiya began, already feeling completely lost for words. What was she supposed to say? That everything was fine and normal just because she was working as she usually was? “Its…” She tried again, trailing off once more as she looked up at the poster once more and sighed as she briefly looked at Valera, wondering if perhaps ve would understand what she was going through, before looking back at the poster. She grabbed her cup of coffee, taking a large gulp of it before she finally decided on what to say.

“Not good enough.” She murmured, clenching her jaw again. “I’ll never be good enough to deserve to be up there…” Nastya looked up at the poster, pointing it out to her Omner with a slightly shaky hand. She hung her head ashamed of herself, realising how different she sounded to the once confident athlete she used to be. Now she doubted everything, and she couldn’t help it. “I feel so unprepared… for the gala and for this season…” She looked between at her slightly deconstructed sandwich and the coffee, deciding to take another large sip of the coffee again. “I don’t even have an idea for the free program yet.”

When Anna had been small, like most children she'd gone through a period of tantrums, generally set off by things as heinous as a sandwich cut the wrong way or being expected to wear pants before leaving the house. Although ve hadn't had a great deal of experience with small children at that stage of vir life, Valera had quickly discovered that the best way to deal with the bad behaviour was to recognise it as a reaction to something the girl felt powerless to control, and ignore it as far as possible.

That was vir intention here as well. Not to even mention the jacket. Nastya already knew that throwing it across the cafeteria would reflect badly on the family if anyone talked about it. She didn't need anyone to mention that and make her feel worse. Besides, it seemed as if the poor girl was struggling enough already. Valera smiled and sighed comfortably as if relaxing from a long session serving customers in the shop, careful to appear calm and cheerful and certainly not watching vir niece to be sure the young champion actually ate a decent meal. Again, ve mirrored Nastya's movements, though ve had no intention of wiping the horseradish sauce off vir beef. Far too tasty! Anyway, ignoring the fact that ve was basically checking up on the young woman, eating with vir fingers like this was actually quite fun and brought back memories of bieng a small child.

Ah. Mistake. Valera cringed inwardly and wished ve could take back the question about training...but had ve really expected this to be an easy conversation? Just stroll in, ask how things were and Nastya would smile and say everything was going swimmingly? No, that had never been on the cards and so ve simply nodded, offering a small smile and giving the girl time to gather her thoughts.

Not good enough. How many times had ve heard that phrase, from brothers, cousins, nieces and even vir own child? It seemed as if the higher one soared, the less one's own confidence was. In a way, Valera considered virself fortunate to have left the professional flying scene before it had become this demanding. Fame and success were clearly what every flyer longed for, but when it was at the expense of their mental wellbeing, even their own personalities...that was why ve had deliberately not pushed Anna as hard as the other parents, though even that looked like it oculd have been a poor decision. Valera realised her expression had changed; thinking about the past had turnd vir face from neutral to concerned, and ve shook vir head.

"If I had a galleon every time I heard someone say that..." ve said softly, reaching across the table to gently squeeze vir niece's hand "If you're not good enough, how can we ever encourage the trainees to have confidence in themselves..?" Ve offered a small conspiratorial smile, though really ve was just glad Nastya was opening up to vir. But what to say that would make any difference? Nastya was pretty much second ranked woman in the world now, but still she lacked confidence. Or rather, she lacked confidence now. It hadn't always been like that...

Valera knew better than to imagine it was a short-term fix. Emotional difficultis never were. But the practical - now that was something ve could assist with. "There's time yet, though" ve said, reaching for vir milkshake but not actually drinking yet "Have you thought about what music you fancy using? That was always my starting point, and then the program began to suggest itself once I started listening" Okay, so that was helpful, and at least getting the girl to think about something positive was a start, but it wasn't enough, Not yet. "I'll bet you're more prepared than you think" ve added, this time after taking a drink "even if it feels like you're at a standstill, any training is going to help as the season approaches..."

Valera’s calm vibe was easing Nastya’s nerves slightly. The way ve joined in with her odd habits, not making any comment on them, without judgement, was nice. It seemed ve was just trying to support her by copying her, maybe to make her realise it was okay to open up to vir. It was needed, so very needed, for the young athlete in that moment. She smiled gratefully at Valera, before taking a deep breath in and out to collect herself.

Nastya watched Valera’s reaction intently, trying to plan her next move based on how ve reacted to her words. The soft tone of Valera’s voice was unexpected, and the gentle squeeze of her hand was even more so. Nastya was flabbergasted at the former champion’s kindness, and her mouth opened and closed as she found herself lost for words. Her chin wobbled, and she sucked in a sharp breath to maintain her composure as she nodded more vigorously than she needed to to stop herself from breaking down. Anastasiya Tikhomirova did not cry (despite the past few months when that was all she seemed to do). She was better than that.

She was good enough. That was certainly true... if this was any other situation. She was good enough to be the second best artistic flyer for witches in the World. However, that was precisely the problem that Nastya was facing in her mind now. She was having to replace the best artistic flyer in the World, who unfortunately happened to be her elder sister. She didn’t like that at all, even a month later after she’d been told. If she was genuinely good enough to be a replacement, she’d have beaten Aglaya in competition already (properly anyway). “Well, they don’t have to replace the best artistic flyer in the gala.” She muttered under her breath, half hoping that Valera didn’t hear it. She didn’t want to seem bitter about it, even if she was. Nastya wasn’t sure what part bothered her the most about the situation, she didn’t even understand her own head anymore.

Valera was right again. Nastya nodded slightly in acknowledgement. There was still time. But her situation was so different this year compared to all the other seasons, and not just because there was some weird crazy stalker who apparently wanted to murder her sister. No, this time Nastya had two coaches. With Veronika being added to her team, it seemed that Nastya’s new coach and Andrey, her original coach had come to an agreement. Previously, Andrey usually chose Nastya’s music for her, since he apparently didn’t believe her capable of knowing what was best for her. This year, Veronika had told her she was supposed to choose it herself. Nastya had no clue where to start. She had no idea what she resonated with, what she didn’t. No clue what style she was good at. According to Veronika, they were all bad. She could dance, that wasn’t in question, but Anastasiya just couldn’t express anything.

She gave up on her deconstructed sandwich and moved to the orange, starting to painstakingly peel it, piece by tiny piece. “I don’t know. Andrey Viktorovich always chose for me, mostly.” Nastya replied nonchalantly with a shrug, stopping peeling the orange temporarily to take a large sip of her coffee. “Veronika told me to find something that resonated. A style I like but…” She shook her head, clenching her jaw, feeling uncontrollable anger bubble up. “Have you never seen me?” Nastya asked darkly, “I can’t emote to anything. I go through the motions but never actually feel anything.” Her words were sharp and crisp, though she didn’t mean to take her anger out on Valera. “I mean, I can’t portray happiness, I can’t portray sadness, what else is there?” Her orange peeling grew more aggressive, taking tiny chunks out of the peel and half-throwing them down onto the plate.

Valera’s next point struck a nerve. Anastasiya felt like she most certainly was not prepared at all, no matter what Valera thought. “Yeah… but…” Nastya frowned as soon as Valera said that any training would help as the season approached. Her stupidity had forced her to take a break for the majority of October. She was behind now, or so she felt, playing catch up and thinking she had to work twice as hard, twice as long to be someone she was not. It sometimes felt like everyone was against her now, and Nastya couldn’t stop flipping between being exceedingly appreciative of her mother’s interventions, and moments later viewing Alyona as her number one enemy who was trying to stop her from accomplishing her goal.

It seemed within the time she’d been in the cafeteria, her view on her mother’s intentions had switched from the former to the latter, and with that sudden thought, Nastya narrowed her eyes at Valera in suspicion, ready to close up and hide everything she felt. “Did… mother send you to spy on me?” Nastya asked sourly, surprising herself with how easily she could go on the attack when she’d been so grateful for Valera’s presence moments prior. What was wrong with her?!

“I…” Nastya’s voice cracked, unable to get a guilty apology out, feeling she needed to say sorry whether or not Valera was acting as her mother’s spy, as she dropped the peeled orange on the table. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Nastya hid her face in her hands as her shoulders began jerking up and down, still desperately trying to stop herself crying even as the tears began to escape. She felt so ashamed of herself and weak, realising that this was probably the first time Valera had seen her cry since she was a young child.