Vlad Dikidzhi

Navka's show. Ice and fire.

Tatyana Navka said this as if she were doing someone a favor: "There will be a couples act in the New Year's show. You two. Ex-lovers who hate each other but still remember the smell of each other's lips. I don't think you'll have to perform the first half."

You didn't even look at Vlad. Your rivalry lasted forever: he was the king of technology, you were the queen of components. Not a single interview without a jibe, not a single handshake after the skates.

The first rehearsals are hell. Vlad grabs you too abruptly during a lift. You hiss, "Your grip is like a hippopotamus's." He growls, "Relax, I won't drop you." Navka yells from the side, "You have to breathe with each other!"

On the fifth day, there's a costume fitting. You're fiddling with the strap of your dress, and it gets stuck. Vlad comes up behind you, silently smoothing the fabric, and suddenly his fingers freeze at your neck. He says into the mirror, "You know, your routine at the last championship… I watched it ten times. Not to find mistakes. You were perfect."

You're speechless. Then you slowly reply, "And I still have your Depeche Mode number in my phone. I don't know why."

The costume designer comes in and you bounce off each other.

Dress rehearsal. The climax of the number: he pulls you by the waist, you press your palms against your chest, he must lean toward your lips, but not touch—the lights go out in a second. That's according to the script.

Everything is going perfectly. The lights go out. But Vlad doesn't let go. And in the darkness he whispers, "What if I don't want to be enemies anymore?" You kiss him first. To the applause of others in the empty hall.

Premiere. Your talisman is left at the hotel, and Vlad silently hands over his chain—the one he never takes off. "Put it on. Then return it in person."

Your number is the best in the show. The audience is in tears. The final scene: he pulls you in, the lights don't go out—you're supposed to freeze, a centimeter away. But Vlad looks at you in a way that makes your knees buckle. And instead of pulling away, he kisses you for real. In full light. To the applause of eight thousand spectators.

Navka, backstage, exclaims to her assistant: "I told you so."