[Rybinsk - 01-2004] Ю (Nastya)

Rybinsk, 5th January 2004

The hot water poured down on her, turning her skin a lobster red colour. Aglaya felt unable to leave the shower, though. She was leaning against the wall, her eyes closed, enjoying the comforting warmth and feeling too tired to move just yet. Only when she heard the sound of a door being opened and closed again she opened her eyes and switched off the water. Someone had probably entered the shower next door. Nobody could have entered her shower, after all. She had locked the door behind herself and yet she felt a little anxious again. With a sigh she now stepped out of the shower and began to dry herself. She did not usually like to use the facilities at the artistic flying school despite the fact that nobody but fellow athletes or other people involved in the flying school had access there and they could be locked. However, after her training and with the prospect of meeting her mother again later, she needed to take a shower and get into dry clothes.

She used her wand to dry her hair but didn’t fully accomplish it because holding her wand pointed at her head still felt uncomfortable in her shoulder, especially after the strain of her training. Dressed in tight fitting black jeans and a large mustard yellow sweater, Aglaya made her way to the mirror. Her face was still slightly red from the hot shower but the colour seemed to fade while she was watching. Although the artistic flyer did not really feel like applying any makeup, she was well aware of the paparazzi that were present in front of the flying school and possibly also in the public area, hoping to get a photo of her. She, therefore, put in some effort to make herself look presentable. When she was done she looked at her reflection and frowned. It still looked tired and gloomy. She tried to offer her reflection an encouraging smile but didn’t receive one back. “Right,” she muttered to herself, turning away and deciding that she’d do well enough if she’d happen to end up in front of a camera lens later.

After slipping into sneakers that matched the colour of her sweater, Aglaya wondered what she should do and where she should spend the time until she was meant to meet with her mother. She could go home and come back later, of course, but the prospect of having to pass the entrance area more than once didn’t have a lot of appeal to her. In fact, Aglaya wondered where she could most successfully hide from people.

These days Aglaya found her own feelings hard to understand. On the one hand she had mostly recovered from the poisoning and her unfortunate accidents at the flying school and wanted to get back to normal, on the other hand she was scared, easily exhausted, and didn’t feel up to interacting with people and training fully yet. This inner conflict led to quite remarkable mood swings that cost a lot of energy. She was determined to go on and live her life. One moment she could be mostly fine but then she only needed a small trigger to get all upset and frightened again. While Aglaya understood the pattern, she felt unable to stop herself from reaching these low points anyway. The artistic flyer had worked hard over the years to get the reputation of being strong and confident, but now she felt nothing like it. Even at good times she still had this faint feeling of insecurity that stopped her from feeling quite at ease.

Aglaya had hoped that if she pretended that the poisoning never happened, she’d be able to get back to her old life when she had mostly been confident and far less scared of the world. However, that plan was flawed, apparently. Her conversation with Anatoliy seemed to be the proof of that. If he didn’t believe the information she had offered in the interview, it probably meant that others didn’t either. And if he didn’t approve of her attempt to deny everything, there was the risk that he also wasn’t alone with that. Being confronted with this had been quite unsettling and Aglaya felt that this wouldn’t be the last time that she’d have to talk about it. It seemed that she would never be the same again no matter how hard she tried to forget what had happened.

Her heartbeat quickened as the most unwelcome thought of her stalker entered her mind. What did that person think of her interview? What if he felt that he needed to strike again to prove her that he could not be ignored, to prove the world that she was a fraud? Aglaya took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She didn’t need this now. She didn’t want to panic again. Taking her bag, Aglaya made a few steps towards the door, but hesitated when her hand already rested on the door handle. Could she really go out and risk meeting somebody? These days people she knew scared her about as much as strangers did - just for different reasons.

Hiding in the changing room was not really an option, though. It was pathetic and Aglaya didn’t want to be pathetic. She wanted to be that strong artistic flying champion again that she still was on the paper even if she felt like the last championships had taken place a lifetime ago.

Maybe a tea at the cafeteria would be nice, she tried to convince herself. After all, she had always enjoyed sitting there by the window, staring out at the Volga. She had done that so many times in the past and it had always served to relax her. Finally she pressed the door handle down and stepped out into the corridor. Nobody seemed to be there and a faint smile spread across her face, lingering there only for a split second before fading again.

Aglaya took the way towards the main arena, wanting to spend as little time as possible in the lobby so that she could sneak into the cafeteria without anyone spotting her. However, as she reached its entrance she came to an abrupt halt. One of the journalists that she had encountered this morning was sitting there with a guy who was apparently just about to change the film for his camera. Quickly she spun around, hoping that nobody had seen her and looked around, unsure where to escape.

She heard her grandfather’s voice coming from inside the arena and she surely didn’t want to meet him. A flashlight caught her attention from the entrance of the artistic flying school and Aglaya felt how her heart was racing. She just couldn’t deal with this now and she certainly didn’t appreciate people sneaking up to her to secretly take a photo. She rushed past the press centre and took the emergency exit out to the riverbank. In the summer this was one of her favourite spots and a place that not many visited. In fact, she didn’t know if anybody else ever came here. There wasn’t a lot of space between the river and the back of the main arena that looked like the body of a huge stranded ship from this side, but it was a perfect little refuge anyway.

As she stepped outside Aglaya was thankful for the convex shape of the outer wall as it meant a shelter from the weather that had changed to light snowfall since she had finished her training. Although it was freezing and despite the fact that she hadn’t grabbed her coat, Aglaya did not feel uncomfortably cold yet. She leaned against the wall and stared at the river. It was hypnotic and somehow comforting to watch the water mass flow past her. The Volga would not stop moving and Aglaya hoped that she, too, could find a way to just go on living her life. However, this seemed to be a hard task as others kept influencing her life in the most inconvenient ways.

@Nastya Tikhomirova

Text about what happened earlier that day

Since the leadup to the gala, Anastasiya had been on a steady decline. She had been obsessed with being perfect, in control, and took advantage of everyone being so busy. Family members no longer had time to sit with her for lunch, so Nastya went to the cafeteria for appearances only. She quietly did crunches or leg raises in her bed at night when no one could hear her. The more she felt in control of herself however, the more her obsession began to control her.

The moment she had woken up on the gala day, Nastya had paced her room like a caged dragon. When it came to her performances though, Nastya thought she had coped extremely well. She hadn’t made any mistakes, the crowd had cheered and applauded as usual. But then her performances were over, and it was suddenly as if all her feelings had crept up on her all at once. She had stood, shaking in the corridors, worried about what the family would say about her performances. Nastya had run to the only place she knew she could to just hide and breathe. She had turned on the showers in the changing room to as cold as she could withstand, stepping in still in full hair, makeup and costume, using the wall to sink down to the floor and curl into a tight ball, eyes shut as she cried. After a few minutes, when she had begun shaking from the cold, the athlete turned off the water and tried to make herself look semi-presentable before going home.

Upon reaching home, Nastya had collapsed onto her bed, sleeping for the entirety of the next day until she forced herself to get ready for the dinner with the family. Despite looking rather glamorous in her sparkling silver dress and matching shoes, she had felt anything but on the inside. She was still exhausted, sore everywhere, dizzy from having nothing to eat so far that day. Despite this, she knew she had to keep up appearances, and she tried her best to talk animatedly to her cousins Tolya and Larisa. Tolya had even managed to elicit a laugh from her. It had been difficult to ignore others talking about her sister not being there though. Aglaya being the main subject made Nastya feel like she hadn’t done well enough in her performances despite all her hard work. All the snippets that Nastya did hear involved her joint performance with Tolya. She had been offended by the implication that it was only talked about because of Tolya and not her. Despite her mother’s earlier warnings before they had left for the dinner, Nastya had been pushed by these thoughts to just cut up her food into tiny pieces and rearrange them on her plate. When no one in her immediate area was looking, she had used a napkin to slowly remove the tiny pieces, to make it look like she'd eaten it. She had been so desperate to get away that she had even wondered if she could pretend to collapse again, just so that she could leave. However, she knew that if Alyona realised that Nastya had done so on purpose she’d be furious. She didn’t want the family to see her weak, and out of control anyway. She had to be in control, perfect.

The gala had given Nastya a purpose, however. Afterward, she lost control of herself completely. What was the point in training, in doing anything? Without Aglayka, she could just show up, improvise a free program on the day and win. There was no one who could even be the slightest threat to her. She needed her rival, she needed Aglaya. She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling or sleeping, for days. Nastya remained silent, barely reacting to her mother’s presence, who seemed to be desperately trying different tactics to elicit any kind of response from her daughter. Any attempt at verbal communication ended quickly with Nastya bursting into tears. To maintain some futile hope of being in control, Nastya refused food, rolling over to get away from it, clenching her jaw down, aggressively reaching out to fight against being forced. It was not difficult to overpower her though, and Anastasiya lost the battle almost every single time.   

Currently, she lay there with her eyes closed, when Nastya gradually began hearing voices downstairs. Her eyes snapped open as she recognised her grandfather’s voice alongside her mother’s, but Alyona wasn’t of particular consequence. Andrey was new, was different. She passively listened as she could tell that they were in the middle of a conversation, seemingly about her. She didn’t care what they said about her. However, her ears pricked up as soon as she heard Aglayka’s name being mentioned by Andrey. “Interview?” Nastya mouthed to herself, wondering what in Merlin’s name they were talking about. She sat up abruptly, gripping the bed with her hand, as she craned her neck to hear what they were saying more properly. Her own name was mentioned again, as Andrey asked if she had read this interview, which of course she had not, and her curiosity was piqued as he replied that it was probably for the best.

Anastasiya had to read this interview now. She waited patiently, hearing that they were departing for the school and once she heard silence, Nastya slipped out of bed, immediately searching for a newspaper. She was positive her mother had left one in her room a few days prior. Bingo! Nastya snatched up the paper, sitting back down on the bed to read her sister’s interview. Once she finished, Nastya sat there for several moments, taking it in. The majority of the interview was complete fiction, but there was one part that caught the younger Tikhomirova sister’s attention. Despite Aglaya clearly lying through her teeth, what she had said about Anastasiya sounded too much like the Aglayka she previously knew to be a lie. Nastya smiled to herself, hugging the paper as everything in her mind seemed to click into place again. Her previously dead eyes lit up with her usual spark. Her rival was back.

Not wasting a single second, Nastya raced over to where she kept her vinyls, placing the record player on the floor, and immediately picking up the first record she saw and began to play it. While she listened, Nastya grabbed her hairbrush, taking her time to put her hair into a pristine bun. There was no rush, after all, no one was expecting her at training for the foreseeable future. She changed the records as and when she needed to, vinyl covers gradually covering the floor as she listened, while continuing to do her makeup. She didn’t usually wear it for training, but thought her appearance needed some extra help. Smiling at her reflection in the mirror as the music came to an end, Nastya spotted a neglected-looking vinyl tucked away. She pulled it out, dusting off the cover, smiling as she remembered that one of her school friends had asked her to go to this weird place called a cinema because the movie ‘seemed like her sort of thing’. She let the tracks play as she rummaged in her drawers, throwing clothes on the floor as she tried to find her dark purple catsuit.

Suddenly, Nastya realised the track had changed again but this one had caught her attention, feeling goosebumps as she heard the tango rhythm. It was surely a sign. She stopped what she was doing, listening to the entire song and realising that for once it actually was making her feel something. Nastya moved the needle of the record player to play the song again, this time attempting to improvise to it. It was easy to move to. The song was in English, so she didn’t understand the lyrics, but the song made her feel angry… but angry in a good way. Nastya felt like that was the right thing to feel. She played the song again as she changed into her catsuit, before grabbing her training bag, putting on her team jacket, another jacket over the top and a thick coat to keep warm. She looked around at the entire mess her room now was; clothes everywhere, vinyls all over the floor, duvet pushed up the bed. Shrugging to herself, she looked at the clock on her wall, knowing Veronika would be teaching her usually at this time. That was exactly who she needed. She didn’t trust her grandfather’s opinion or his choreography anymore. Nastya knew Veronika would do it right. Removing the record and slipping it into its cover, Nastya went downstairs and took the floo network to the school.

Not wanting anyone but Veronika to see her, Nastya speedily made her way to the changing room, placing her bag down before leaving to find her coach. Finding her in one of the offices, Nastya gently grabbed her shocked coach’s hand, dragging the older witch into the studio. Shutting the door behind them, as Veronika asked her what was going on, Nastya placed the record into the player, moving the needle a little bit back from the needed position, before facing her coach with a smile, as she removed her coat. “Free program. We dance. Right now.” Nastya whispered hoarsely, from having not used her voice in almost a week. Veronika gave her a surprised look, which soon melted into a sly glance and a knowing smile. “Alright, let’s begin.”

Nastya did not know how long they were in the studio for, but she did know she had only learnt 30 seconds of choreography. Already, she could tell that this was going to be the most difficult free program she’d ever done. Veronika had been eager to stop as soon as she could see Nastya begin to struggle and become fatigued, and for once the athlete did not argue. They agreed that they'd pick back up the next day as Nastya picked up her coat, and they left the studio, Veronika taking the record with her. Nastya’s stomach rumbled, and she smiled to herself as she headed towards the cafeteria to get a well-deserved snack.

As she neared the entrance to the cafeteria, she spotted her sister and Nastya frowned as she suddenly noticed all the journalists in or near the press centre, watching as Aglaya moved away from them and out the emergency exit that was near the riverbank. Nastya didn’t think she’d ever used it before. The opportunity to talk to her sister without anyone else around had suddenly presented itself, and Nastya wasn’t going to let it pass up. She was just about to move to follow Aglayka when a journalist was suddenly right in her face, asking her for her opinions about Aglaya’s interview. Nastya supposed it was logical to ask, and the attention did feel nice, that someone cared about her opinions. However, she had more important things to do. “It is not my situation, I will not comment on it. Excuse me,” Nastya gave a friendly smile before she moved past him and speedily moved towards the exit, glancing to see if she had been followed before stepping out.

Nastya smiled as her gaze fell on her elder sister, leaning against the wall. She looked down at the coat in her hands, wondering if Aglaya was cold as she felt the chill in the air, and decided it was the perfect way to extend an olive branch. “Hey… Are you okay?” Nastya muttered quietly, still getting used to using her voice. “Aren’t you cold? Take this, I’m wearing two jackets already.” Anastasiya held out her coat towards her sister with a kind smile, desperate to talk to her sister about her interview, but feeling like it probably wasn’t the smartest decision to just openly start the conversation with it. She had a feeling her sister probably didn’t want to talk about it, even if Nastya only had positive things to say about it. Of course, her sister didn’t know that yet. She’d have to tread carefully. “I’m… really happy to see you here.” She offered genuinely, praying that Aglayka would respond well to her presence and not ask her to go away.

The silence on the river bank was nice. There was only the steady sound of the Volga audible and it was soothing to watch the snowflakes sail down and unite with the stream. Aglaya felt that she wouldn’t move away from this spot for a while. Her heart was beating a little slower than before and the panic she had felt was fading at least to some degree.

However, this moment of peace and quiet didn’t last. She heard the creaking sound of the door and immediately felt tense again. Her heart skipped a beat as she turned to see who was coming out to join her. She hoped that it was none of the journalists or - worse yet - her stalker himself.

When she spotted that it was only her sister, Aglaya didn’t relax, though. She felt uncomfortable that Nastya had apparently followed her outside and wasn’t quite sure if she wanted to talk to her younger sibling. After the events of the open day, Nastya had spent more time with her but then the gala preparations had apparently taken up all of her time and she hadn’t seen her in a while. Truth be told, Aglaya wasn’t sure if she was mad at her sister or not. If she blamed her for not having visited her recently or if it was her own fault, after all.

“Hey…” she responded after a brief moment of hesitation. She wanted to offer a smile but somehow, just like earlier in front of the mirror, it didn’t quite work out. Nastya asked if she was okay and Aglaya looked at her blankly for a moment before giving a slight nod in response.

When Nastya offered her her coat, Aglaya looked at it, only then realising that she was indeed feeling a little cold by now. Yet, she hesitated to take it. Somehow she felt like taking her sister’s coat had more meaning than just to keep her warm; that taking it meant accepting an unspoken apology that she would probably accept anyway. Besides, taking it seemed to imply that Nastya was not about to turn around and leave her alone again so soon. Probably her sister also wanted to give her a piece of her mind regarding the interview, too. She swallowed hard and shrugged these thoughts off, knowing that she was overthinking this and eventually took the coat.

“Thanks,” she said quietly as she put it on. Again she tried to force a smile onto her face as Nastya said that she was happy to see her at the flying school and, again, she failed. “Thanks,” he, therefore, muttered, looking down at the ground that was by now covered in a thin layer of snow. “It’s… good to be back.”


[OOC: Sorry this took me so long and it isn’t really long or… good. <33]