Chapter Seven: Hate And Love *Wet kisses. Tender caresses. Lustful sighs. Yuri stared up at the woman writhing on top of him, taking in her full round breasts, her long blonde hair, and her exquisite face, which reacted to his every touch as if she was on the verge of dying of ecstasy. Her pale skin had a slight pink tint to it, flushed from arousal, which gave her an attractive, almost otherworldly, glow. He had never seen her look more beautiful, stripped of her stylish clothes and carefully applied cosmetics. She was one of those rare natural beauties who tended to incite rabid jealousy in women and burning desire in men. A moan escaped her lips when Yuri reached up to squeeze one of her breasts, and she arched her back, giving him a better view. Yuri could feel himself growing close to release, but he wasn’t ready to come just yet. Grabbing her by the wrists, he rolled her over on her back and took the dominant position. He brushed his mouth against hers and closed his eyes, allowing his other senses to take over as he trailed kisses down her neck. “You smell like jasmine,” he murmured, catching a whiff of her shampoo. He continued his downward journey until he reached the swell of her breasts. His lips found an erect nipple and took it into his mouth, flicking his tongue against the tip. She whimpered in need, her fingers tugging at his hair. “Please, Yuri,” she said in a French accent that caused Yuri to stop what he was doing and lift himself off of her. He opened his eyes to find the golden-haired woman gone, replaced instead by an angelic-looking girl, who stared up at him with pale gray eyes. “What’s wrong?” she asked, sensing his confusion. She sat up on her knees and caressed his cheek. “Why did you stop, Yuri?” Yuri shook his head, telling himself that he must have imagined the other woman, and smiled. “It’s nothing,” he said, and kissed the inside of her wrist. “Now, where did we leave off?” He cupped her head in between his hands and kissed her again, full on the mouth. Her lips were coated in a cherry lip gloss, the sweet taste lingering on his tongue as her mouth parted and allowed him entrance. Yuri deepened the kiss, and his hands slid down to wrap around her slender neck. Then he was pushing her back down on the bed, his fingers crushing against her windpipe. She gasped, yet made no attempt to fight him off, instead reaching up to wipe away the tear that ran down Yuri’s face. He wanted to stop, but his hands refused to obey the commands his brain was telling them. No matter how hard he struggled to release his hold on her, his grip seemed to tighten even more, cutting off her airways until finally her nude body went limp underneath him like a rag doll. “No!” Upon regaining control of his hands, Yuri began shaking her by the shoulders, although he already knew on some level that she was dead. “Sophie, breathe!” he shouted, his eyes burning from the tears that leaked from them. “Stay with me! You have to breathe. Please, just breathe…please.” “It’s too late,” another voice said. “She’s already gone.” Yuri swiped his arm over his eyes and turned his attention to the direction from which the voice came. On the right side of the bed stood Kalos Eido, who began to slowly clap his hands together in applause. Yuri glared at his boss and reached for a pillow to cover himself. “What are you doing here? Get the hell out of my room!” he yelled. “Does this look like a Kaleido Stage show to you?” “No, but it was quite the amazing performance, I must say,” Kalos said. “Your finest yet, in fact. I always sensed that you and I were the same, willing to do whatever needed to be done in order to achieve our goals.” “I’m nothing like you! It was an accident, out of my control… I never wanted this to happen.” “Yet you still used her.” There was another voice in the room -- a masculine one that spoke with a French accent. “You didn’t care what happened to Sophie as long as you got what you wanted in the end. Isn‘t that right, Killian?” Yuri turned to the left. Leon Oswald stripped off his long black overcoat and walked over to the bed, wrapping the coat around Sophie’s naked body before lifting her in his arms. Sophie had spoken of Leon’s kindness, but for the first time, Yuri witnessed it in action, in the tender way he cradled her and the brotherly kiss he placed upon her forehead. Leon’s shoulders shook, and though it was difficult to see through the curtain of platinum hair that had fallen over his face, Yuri knew Leon was sobbing. “Leon, I-I --” He wasn’t listening, too lost in his grief to care about anything Yuri had to say. Before Yuri could even stutter out an apology, Leon carried Sophie’s body out of the room, Kalos following after them. Yuri sat on the edge of the mattress, staring down at his hands. 'I killed her,' he thought, clenching his fingers into fists. 'Sophie’s dead because of me. It’s all my fault.' “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”* “I’m sorry!” Yuri’s eyes shot open, darting around the room until he realized that he was back in his apartment in Cape Mary, not the hotel room in Paris. Sitting up, he sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair. It had only been a dream. He barely remembered returning home the night before. Exhausted from the long flight, he had crashed the moment he arrived at the apartment. He glanced over at his alarm clock, mildly surprised to see that it was already close to nine. Normally, he woke up much earlier, since Layla preferred starting practice first thing in the morning. Yuri groaned and fell back against the pillows, flashing back to the beginning of the dream. Not that any of that it mattered anymore. Once Layla spoke to Kalos, he would more than likely be out of a job, and his dreams of revenge would die before they could come to fruition. Strangely, he wasn’t as upset as he thought he would be. Yuri hated the idea of Kalos getting away with what he had done to his father, free to encourage other performers in the future to put their lives on the line for little more than a publicity stunt, but there had to be more to life than the pursuit of vengeance. His mother would be happy; she had never wanted him to join Kaleido Stage in the first place, afraid he would suffer the same fate as her husband. Maybe he would even go back to school. As a child, before his father’s death, he had shown some talent in oil painting. He could go to art school, or perhaps pursue a business degree. And then, maybe after a few years, he could apologize to Layla for the way he had treated her and ask her for a second chance… Over on the nightstand, his cell phone began to buzz, distracting him from his thoughts. Yuri rolled over and reached for phone, checking the display. It was Jared. “Yeah?” he answered. “Yuri, where are you?” Jared asked. “My apartment.” Yuri let out a yawn. “I just woke up. Why?” “Did you forget that Kalos wanted to see you and Layla first thing? I told you last night at the airport. They’ve been waiting for you since eight. You better get down here as fast as you can. Even if you did just win the Festival, you know the boss hates to be kept waiting.” “Okay, I’m coming, I’m coming.” He climbed out of bed and began changing clothes. “I’ll be there in ten.” Ending the call, Yuri let out a swear and threw the phone on the bed. What a pain. If Kalos was going to fire him, he ought to just tell him over the phone. The last place he felt like visiting today was Kaleido Stage, especially if it meant having to face Layla again. Still, he got dressed and drove over. On his way to Kalos’ office, several people stopped him to congratulate him on his and Layla’s victory, including Jean Benigni, the set manager, who ran into him outside the main stage. “Hey, Yuri, great job at the Festival,” he said, shaking Yuri’s hand. “I heard you and Layla blew the rest of the competition away.” “Thanks,” Yuri said, wishing people would stop showering him with praise he didn’t deserve. Glancing over Jean’s shoulder, he noticed that there was a flurry of activity happening on the stage as the other stagehands worked on building some new sets. “Preparing for a new show?” “Of course. It’s set to be your gala performance, to celebrate your victory with Layla at the Festival. Kalos is really pulling out all the stops for this one.” Yuri‘s eyes widened. “What?” “Yuri, there you are!” Jared called out before he could ask Jean what he was talking about. The manager jogged over. “Kalos and Layla are waiting for you, you know. You should get going.” “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize I was holding you up,” Jean said. “Feel free to come by later if you can, though. I’d like your opinion on the set- up for the Golden Phoenix. I‘ve made some improvements I think you and Layla will like.” “Yeah, sure,” Yuri said, confused as he left Jean and Jared behind and continued on to Kalos’ office. When he arrived, he lightly knocked on the door and slipped inside. Kalos was sitting behind his desk as usual, while Layla, dressed in her work-out clothes, was on the couch, drinking a cup of coffee. The trophy they had won at the Festival sat on the coffee table in front of her. Yuri quickly looked away from it -- and Layla -- and turned his attention to Kalos. “Yuri, good for you to finally join us this morning,” he said. “Sorry,” Yuri apologized, clenching his hands at his side. “I overslept.” “Try not to make a habit of it. It’s not a good example for a champion to set for the trainees.” Kalos pushed his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose and sat back in his chair. “I’ve already spoken with Layla about most of this, but again, I want to congratulate the both of you for winning the International Circus Festival. My threat to end your contracts if you lost was by no means idle, but I’m pleased you two managed to meet my expectations.” “Thank you, sir.” “Work has already begun on your gala performance,” Kalos continued. “Our next show will be Romeo & Juliet, with the Golden Phoenix as the climax. This will be one of Kaleido Stage’s biggest shows to date, so I expect you and Layla to put on a performance worthy of the champions you are. With you being the new Festival champions, this is a great opportunity to expand our audience numbers and put Kaleido Stage on the map.” Of course money is the most important thing to him, Yuri thought bitterly. Big surprise. But hadn’t Layla asked Kalos to get rid of him? He glanced over at Layla, expecting her to raise some sort of rejection, but yet she remained sitting on the couch, sipping her coffee as if it was just another business meeting. “That’s all I really wanted to say,” Kalos said, dismissing them with a wave of his hand. “You may go.” Layla set her cup down on the coffee table and stood back up, speaking to Yuri for the first time since Paris. “Come on, Yuri. Let’s begin practice.” Yuri silently followed her out of the office. Once the door had closed behind them, though, he reached for her wrist, stopping Layla in her tracks. “Why?” After a moment, Layla pivoted around to face him. “Because you’re my partner,” she said matter-of-factly. After a short pause, she added, “And my friend.” “But I treated you horribly in Paris,” he said. “How can you still say that? Why don‘t you hate me?” She cocked her head to the side. “You sound almost as if you want me to hate you.” “Maybe I do,” he admitted, unaware he had spoken the thought aloud until Layla pressed her hand against his cheek. “Look, Yuri, I may not know exactly what happened between you and Sophie in Paris, but I do know that you were hurting. I’m not going to hold anything you said to me against you, because I know it wasn’t really you who said those things.” “But it was.” Yuri pulled her hand down, away from his face. “Yuri Killian isn’t who you think he is, Layla. He’s a terrible person, who’s willing to do anything in order to achieve his goals. He uses people, and hurts them without regard for their feelings. He’s not someone you want as your partner.” “That should be up to me to decide, not you.” “But --” She shook her head. “I don’t care. You say I don’t know the real Yuri Killian? Then let me get to know him. I *want* to know him.” “Layla…” “Why are we still standing around, talking about this when we should be practicing for the next show?” she asked, turning back around. In a softer voice, she said, “What’s done is done, Yuri. Maybe we won’t be able to forget what happened in Paris, but we can move on from it. That’s what I plan to do. I suggest you do the same.” Sighing, Yuri slumped back against the wall and watched her retreating figure as she continued on to the practice room without him. He should have been happy. Layla seemed willing to forgive him, and his revenge against Kalos was back on track, yet... He stared down at his hands. He used to believe he would be willing to sacrifice anything -- even his soul -- if it meant avenging his father’s death. His hatred of Kalos had fueled his every ambition, his every dream. Even now, it took all his willpower not to go back to Kalos’ office and beat the bastard within an inch of his life. But how much more blood would stain his hands before he was satisfied? If it came down to it, would he even be willing to hurt Layla if it meant he got his revenge? Would she become another Sophie, another innocent victim of his hate? “Yuri, are we going to practice or not?” Layla asked, turning back around when she realized he wasn’t following her. “Coming.” Shaking his head to clear away his thoughts, Yuri stuffed his hands in his pockets and joined Layla on the way to the practice room. The End DISCLAIMER: Kaleido Star doesn’t belong to me. AUTHOR’S NOTES: Any comments and criticisms can be sent to me at ElysionDream@aol.com. Heh, one of these days, I want to write a happy Yuri/Layla story. I love them together so much, but somehow they always end up getting the shaft in my fics… Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the story!