Russian Punk

    Yuri had just wanted to get back to the dorm and rest after a long day of practice.  He was tired and just wanted to take a warm shower to help his sore muscles and get started on his essay for class, and have a quick dinner from something in his fridge. A simple plan for the start of his long weekend.

    The walk back to his dorm was quiet and lonely, just the way he liked it. The only other person around was the man in front of him, but he had no plans of reaching out to talk with the guy and he better have felt the same. It was why he had stayed a few feet behind him, he was going to ignore him and that was going to be that.

    Or at least that had been the plan.

     The dancer had no idea what had happened, or how it had happened, but suddenly the man in front of him had tripped and fallen on face first. Yuri had to do everything in his power not to crack up right then and there, he was an asshole but he wasn’t going to outright laugh at a strangers pain.

    It was as if the world had decided to make Yuri’s day shitty today, nothing was going right and it was pissing him off. It had all started with a damn phone call from his mother about some bastard wanting him to do something ice skating related and of course, Yuri having dropped that to spite the woman, had hung up without further questions. Then he had tripped going upstairs, in front of his dance instructor, he’d failed a quiz he had stayed up late studying, and lastly there was this fucking bastard in front of him in the cafeteria taking his sweet ass time getting his shit.

    Who the hell took this damn long grabbing food? What was there to even think about? Everything was shitty here and it made no difference what you decided on! 

    Yuri was too competitive for his own good, he needed to be the best in what he was dedicated too or he had nothing, so to be the best he had a whole regimen set on what he needed to do and how he was going to do it. It’s why morning runs were a necessity in his life and nothing could stop him, even a stupid small fever.

    He’d waken up early like usual, only this time he had felt shitty when he did, the tell tell sign of something being off. Of course he took precautions to check what exactly it could be so he could start taking care of it before it got worse. Everything had seemed fine except his temperature was a little above average so he took some Emergen-C and went about getting ready for his morning jog. He was more than certain that nothing would come from this stupid slight fever, after all he’d trained himself through worse leading up to his first and last Olympic appearance, but he was oh so wrong. 

    It was halfway into his run when he had suddenly felt faint and had nearly collapsed on the floor. He had caught himself in time and instead had forced himself to fall on his knees, his hands on the ground to keep him steady as he tried to keep focus. He didn’t know if anyone was around and hoped they’d mind their own business if they happened to see him.