Chapter Text
I’m going to tell you a story that you’re never going to believe. I know you’re not, because no one believes it. Hell, I don’t even believe it, and I’m living it!
Whatever, it is what it is.
My hell started about three weeks ago. I was watching this anime called Yuri!!! On Ice after my best friend Kasha begged me to. Apparently, a true gentleman is always supposed to indulge a lady, or some bullshit, so I spent nearly five hours of my time watching this sappy ass show to get her off my back.
Finally, it goes off, and I got to go back to my regular programming. To reclaim my masculinity, I watched some Dragon Ball Super and Attack on Titan, then fell asleep. The next thing I know, someone is shaking me awake yelling, Yuri! My first thought was that I left auto replay on, and that damn show had restarted.
Nope! That would be too logical.
After hearing someone hysterically crying in the background, and feeling like some moron was going to shake my shoulder out of socket, I opened my eyes. I quickly discovered that no, I was not on the couch that I know I was on the night before. My white sofa with fluffy, green pillows was nowhere in sight, but a big ass block of cold ice was, and currently my face was resting on it. Thoroughly confused, I jumped up, or tried to, but my head was pounding so badly that I nearly blacked out. Everything was a blur, and before I could panic, someone was pushing me back down.
Yuri, don’t get up! We’ve called an ambulance, I heard.
Okay, who the fuck is Yuri? Who is this talking to me? Am I dreaming? What the hell is all of this? Those were the thoughts going through my mind as I tried to stop myself from puking at the pain. I then heard commotion all around, and what sounded like chalk moving across a blackboard, but the faint spray of slushy ice hitting my face told me otherwise. Fuck this, I need to know what’s up. This is getting too weird, I thought.
Slowly, I opened my eyes, and the first thing I saw was my arm and chest seeing as how I was laying on my side. Immediately, I noticed that I wasn’t wearing the T-shirt I know I had on before. Nothing in my wardrobe is covered in rhinestones. Hmm. I then slowly turned my eyes to look down my body. No longer was I wearing my house shoes and drawers. I had on some sparkly jumpsuit with a pair of ice skates. What the actual fuck?
At this point, I didn’t care what my head was feeling like. Somebody was going to tell me something, so I turned over onto my back, and opened my eyes. Slowly, they focused on the blobs standing around me.
Yuri, Yurio, Yura , I hear out of sync and in multiple voices. I paid them no mind; my vision was almost back.
My God, this is the part where I question all that is holy. When my eyes finally focused, I saw Viktor Nikiforov, Yuuri Katsuki, Mila Babicheva and Yakov Feltsman hovering around me. I’m not even embarrassed to admit that I screamed like a little bitch.
I tried my damnedest to get away from them, but I was woozy, had never ice skated in my life, and had four people restraining me. I didn’t give a damn; I fought anyway. Unfortunately, the pain chose that moment to catch up with me. All I could think as I lost consciousness was where am I? How are these people real? And, why in the fuck do they think I’m Yuri Plisetsky?