oooh boy...this one is a bomb shell

.

.

[Otabek's POV]

Okay, okay, okay. Otabek. Stop putting it off. Yuri and I are both mature men and I'm sure even if he doesn't feel the same way, we can work something out. We have been through so much together, there is no way Yuri would just up and leave. He's my best friend and he always will be, no matter what.

My eyes shift nervously around the room until something sparkling captures my attention.

Champagne! Oh sweet alcohol help me in my time of need!

I rush over to the tables and take a glass. I turn to leave, hesitate and upon reconsidering, grab myself a second glass before walking away. I effortlessly throw back the Champagne one after the other.

"Wow! You look just like Yuuri during last year's banquet." Victor says from beside me.

I turn to face him and his new husband.

"It's like Déjà Vu." Yuuri agrees.

"I...I guess I'm a little nervous." I reply awkwardly.

"Er...would you like mine?" Yuuri offers, holding out his own Champagne glass.

"Absolutely not." Victor protests. "I'm planning on having quite the dance party tonight."

With the tips of his fingers, Victor lifts Yuuri's glass up to his mouth to get him to drink.

I notice a shimmer of gold behind them. I crane my neck to take a look and find the source to be Yuri's hair.

"Gotta go!" I say quickly, shoving my two empty glasses into the hands of Victor and Yuuri.

I make my way through the crowd and towards Yuri.

"Yuri!" I call out.

As soon as Yuri turns to face me, I feel a thud in my chest and stop dead in my tracks.

I am not nearly drunk enough for this.

"Oh, hey Otabek, what's up?" Yuri inquires.

"Nothing!" I lie before quickly pacing away.

.

[Yuri's POV]

"Yuri!"

I turn around to see Otabek coming towards me.

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

"Oh, hey Otabek, what's up?" I say, trying to sound casual.

Otabek stares at me for a second.

"Nothing!" He answers quickly before retreating into the crowd.

Otabek grabs two Champagne glasses from the tray of a passing waiter and chugs them down as he leaves.

"Oh dear." Says a small voice beside me.

I look down to see Alina watching Otabek with a concerned look.

"What is it?" I question.

"You shouldn't let him have too many of those; Otabek gets pretty emotional when he is drunk." Alina advices.

I look back up at the crowd but Otabek has already disappeared.

"What do you mean, emotional?" I ask fearfully, turning back to Alina.

"Well, sometimes it can be a good thing. Like this one time, he got really happy and affectionate and gave me loads of cookies. But it works both ways, he can also get really heated and aggressive or depressed and miserable." Alina explains.

"Intense mood swings huh...makes sense for drunk Otabek to be completely different from the quiet and sensible sober Otabek." I conclude. "He only took two glasses though. Sure, he chugged them but maybe he was just really thirsty. I don't think Beka is the type to get wasted at a wedding, he has more respect than that."

.

[Narrator's POV]

"Where are the shots?" Otabek demands.

"I told you already, sir, we don't have any." The waiter answers fearfully.

"Come on, man. You gotta hook me up." Otabek pleads. "This Champagne is for sissies! I've had six glasses and I'm barely tipsy."

"I don't know, sir...you seem pretty drunk." The waiter replies nervously.

"Don't push him." Interrupts Alina, who was luckily walking by.

"W-What do you mean?" The waiter asks, looking down at the little girl.

"I mean, you do not want to make him angry." Alina says sternly. She grabs her big brother by the tie and drags him away from the poor waiter. "Come on Beka, no more alcohol."

"But—But Ally!" Otabek protests.

"I said no more!" Alina yaps.

"I-I need it." Otabek whimpers. "I need it to calm me. I'm just—I'm just so anxious."

"You are anything but calm when you drink." Alina says, crossing her arms.

Otabek slumps down into the chair beside him. "I'm so pathetic."

"Oh, no no no. Don't go getting depressed now." Alina begs.

Otabek's lip begins to tremble.

"This is not the time to cry. You'll make a scene!" Alina says desperately.

"I just—I just thought," Otabek sniffs. "That if I was drunk, it would be easier to come clean to Yuri."

"Come clean?" Alina repeats.

Otabek nods sadly. "I-I'm scared, Ally...that he won't like me."

"Oh, Beka..." Alina replies softly. "Of course he likes you."

"Why would he? Look at me!" Otabek exclaims. "I'm trying to get drunk off Champagne at a wedding."

It is then that Otabek finally began to cry. Alina pats his back gently.

"There, there. You're not pathetic." She says sympathetically. "Now why don't you just get a taxi home, have a good rest and tell Yuri how you feel in the morning."

"No." Otabek says firmly. He wipes the tears from his eyes and stands up. "I have come this far. I need to confess to Yuri now!"

"No, not now. What happened to being pathetically drunk?" Alina contends.

"I am a man. I am not weak." Otabek replies in a completely different tone of voice.

"What you're saying has nothing to do with this current situation!" Alina snaps.

"You're right, I'm not pathetic." Otabek continues. "And I need to prove that to Yuri. I need to do something to declare my love for him!"

"Beka. Don't go doing anything drastic that you will regret tomorrow." Alina tells him.

"Screw Otabek from tomorrow, he's lame!" Otabek says aggressively.

Suddenly, Phichit's voice in a microphone echoes throughout the hall. "Ladies and Gentlemen, it's time for the bouquet toss!"

Otabek whips around to face the front of the room, where Victor and Yuuri are climbing the steps up to the altar.

"No. No, no. Otabek." Alina stammers.

"It's perfect. I will prove that I have more love in my heart than any of these losers!" Otabek proclaims evilly.

"Beka, don't get overheated." Alina says urgently.

But it is too late, Otabek has made up his mind and begun racing to the front of the room.

"Oh, honestly." Alina calls after him angrily, "You're worse than Ma during her period!"

The cluster of people around Alina turn their heads to look at her with strange expressions. She smiles awkwardly before quickly walking away with her head down.

.

[Yuri's POV]

I'm so nervous. My legs won't stop shaking. I told myself that this wedding was a symbol of hope...but now I'm losing courage again. I need something else—a sign.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, it's time for the bouquet toss!"

I turn my head to the altar, my heart racing. It's perfect! If I catch that bouquet, it'll mean I'm destined to find love. I hurry to the front of the room where Phichit is handing Victor and Yuuri the microphone.

"We thank you all for coming and as a special treat, my amazing husband with toss a bouquet into the crowd. The catcher, of course, is destined to be wed." Victor announces.

"Oh, no, Vitya. You should do it." Yuuri insists, holding out the bouquet.

"Let's do it together." Victor compromises. He places his hand over Yuuri's before turning away from the audience. "Alright," He says excitedly. "Let's see who the lucky winner is—of course, I married Yuuri so none of you are luckier than me."

"Victor!" Yuuri cuts in.

"Okay, okay." Victor says before continuing the count down. "3, 2, 1..."

Yuuri and Victor both throw their arms back, the bouquet hurling into the air. A mob of determined guests separate me from the altar, eyeing the flying flowers eagerly. A few familiar faces are among the crowd including Mila, Phichit, Chris, Mari, Georgi, Sala, Emil and even Yuuri's ballet instructor, Minako. But the bouquet is still sawing. Each and every one of them turn their heads in horror as it flies right over them. I still have a chance! My face lights up as I watch the bouquet come hurling towards me.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion—

I was watching my destiny come flying closer and closer towards me. My hands, ready to receive it. Then, from the corner of my eye, I saw a large figure sprinting towards me. Just as the flowers reached my hands, I was pushed aside by a great weight. The bouquet slipped from my grasp and flew into the arms of Emil Nekola...I was devastated.

Time returns to normal speed.

I am sprawled on the ground with Emil standing over me, jumping up and down ecstatically. Sala shoves through the crowd.

"Emil! You caught it!" She says, spreading out her arms for a hug.

Emil walks right past her, shouting as he pushes through the crowd. "Michele! Michele I have flowers for you!"

Sala drops her arms and rolls her eyes before walking away.

I instantly turn to face the culprit of my downfall, fury boiling up inside me. My eyes widen at the sight of Otabek kneeling on the ground beside me.

"noooOOOOO!" He shouts, slamming his fists down on the ground. "No. No! NO!"

Alina rushes forward to the scene, stopping dead in her tracks at the sight of Otabek. "Oh dear."

"Otabek? What the hell! Why did you tackle me?" I question angrily.

"I...I was just trying to catch the bouquet for you." Otabek answers, his voice quivering.

I shudder as a tear drops from Otabek's hanged head and sputters on the floor below. He—He's crying?!

"F-For me?... I...I didn't know—I didn't mean..." I stumble.

Confusion rattles my brain. I'm struggling for words.

Why was Otabek chasing the bouquet for me? Why is he crying over flowers? This isn't like him...

And then it hit me—Alina warned me about this! He is getting emotional because he is drunk. Argh, I should have kept an eye on him like she said!

"Uh, sorry Beka..." I say softly, edging towards Otabek.

I reach out my hand to touch his shoulder but he hits it away.

"No. Don't say sorry." Otabek says suddenly, lifting himself up. "I know you just think I'm pathetic."

"W-What?" I stammer, slightly hurt.

Alina steps in. "Beka. Time to go home."

"No! You know what, Yuri. I'm not pathetic! And if you can't see that then I will go find someone who can." Otabek continues. "Like—like...Like Mila! I bet she doesn't think I'm pathetic."

The crowd of bystanders turn to look at Mila, whose face turns red from embarrassment.

"Uhhh...Well right now I would have to beg to differ." She says awkwardly.

Otabek points his finger at me menacingly. "Yooouu might not care about me, but I'll prove to you that anyone else would want to be in your position—Mila would want to date me, right Mila?"

Mila had already begun sneaking away from the crowd. "I'm not a part of this!"

Otabek ignores me, along with the rest of the confused bystanders, and storms off after her. "Mila! Mila kiss me!"

"I do not consent!" Mila calls back.

"Oooh dear, oh dear, oh dear." Alina says, waving her hands as if in a panic. "You pushed him! You pushed him over the edge, I told you."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry." I reply apologetically. "I didn't know he was drunk!"

"I need to go stop him from doing something stupid. You should probably stay away." Alina says.

And with that, she turns to chase Otabek.

Stay away? I can't stay away!

I rush through the crowd after her. It isn't long until we come across Otabek following Mila around like a puppy.

"Mila, please, I need to prove a point." He reasons.

"No! As your friend I will not allow you to make this mistake." Mila says firmly.

"Oh great, another friend zone." Otabek replies in annoyance.

"Beka!" I holler as I hurry towards them. "Beka, please stop."

"Get away from me. I'm sick of you playing with my emotions." Otabek says. "You had your chance. I've moved on now, I want to kiss Mila!"

My heart shatters into a million pieces. Otabek has never looked at me his way before...there is so much hatred in his eyes.

"No, you don't. Just tell him Otabek!" Alina demands.

"Tell him what? He doesn't care. He never cared." Otabek replies sourly.

His words sting me like a whip.

Stop. Stop saying it... It's not true...

"I do care..." I speak up, pain prickling my voice.

"You don't have to lie because you feel sorry for me." Otabek says, tears rimming his eyes. "I don't care either anymore."

That was it. The final blow. The tears welling up in my eyes overflow, blurring my vision.

"Otabek. Stop." Mila whispers. "What you're saying isn't true."

"I've heard enough." I say.

I turn my back on the man who once held my heart and leave...with my heart still crushed in his grip.