"I indeed love you…" He muttered, blue eyes gazing into her own green ones as he held their connected hands up to his lips, kissing the back of her own softly.

"Do you really?" She sobbed, her hair heavy with the rain and soaking. Neither seemed to care that the storm had now successfully gotten their clothes to stick to their skin.

"I do. Please stay with me forever, Clara…"

"And cut!"

Immediately he pulled away from the actress, taking in a deep breath as the rain was stopped and a ringing was heard throughout the studio to let others know the scene had now ended.

"Great job, Viktor, Isabel!" The director yelled, his teeth dazzling as he practically jumped up and down in his seat.

Viktor bowed, his right arm sweeping across his stomach. "Why thank you."

"Makeup on Isabel!" The director snapped, his attention off the actors as he barked at a group of young women. They squeaked and scrambled over to Isabel, dragging her off to a private room.

"What a nice job," some random intern blabbered as he ran up to Viktor and started to make sure everything was in place, placing hairs back in position and making sure no makeup was running. "You did wonderful, mister Nikiforov!"

Viktor smiled. Always the same one; one that screamed politeness and a kind nature. But never genuine; and it was the same to this blushing and fumbling intern, who now was trembling as she fixed Viktor's shirt.

Viktor held back a sigh of boredom as he was instructed to be in position once more for another shot of the scene. How incredibly boring.

When the Russian man had first gotten into acting, he loved it because he could take on a role of someone. Someone who wasn't him and god, it felt wonderful.

But of course, it didn't turn out as glam or fabulous as he thought it would. He was pushed, shoved, and hated. The love from his fans was touching, but something wasn't right. Something was off, and he felt so empty and lifeless and… Bored. So un-inspired and so incredibly bored.

"Ready?" The director shouted, his loud voice ringing over the entire set. "Cue the rain… and… action!"

Viktor Nikiforov held in his breath, and shifted his face to one that was deemed 'for a lover'.

Time to act and ever replaying scene of boredom.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"Katsuki Yuuri! Nou jeencha badou qouyah!" An unusually angry voice invaded his ears.

Groaning, Yuuri groped around blindly for his glasses, shoving them on his nose and groggily sitting upright in his bed. "Wass' goin' on?..."

"You babou!" The person continued to yell in his native language. "If you miss this interview, so help me, I'll kill you myself!"

Interview?...

Yuuri's still droopy eyes lingered over to his cute clock that was shaped like a blue whale.

8:04.

"Oh my god…" Yuuri said in a horrified voice, before he jumped out of bed and skidded over to the door.

Flinging it open, a normally passive face glared angrily back.

"S… Seung-gil-kun…" Yuuri groaned, letting his friend come in.

"You're going to be late." Seung-gil snapped, taking action immediately as he raced over to Yuuri's drawers. "Get showered, take no more than ten minutes, and comb your hair back."

"Y… Yes!" Yuuri yelped, a white towel thrown to his face along with a pair of black boxers.

As Yuuri speed walked over to the bathroom, he tried not to panic. It's fine, it's fine. The interview was at 9:00 and he could totally make it in time if he hurried with the shower, hoped that Seung-gil chose a suitable outfit and skipped breakfast.

After a quick shower that had Yuuri yelping at the first touch of cold water, he hopped out and dried himself as fast as he could. He was even able to multitask by brushing his teeth and combing back his black bangs at the same time.

He walked out of the bathroom naked except for his boxers, for he had long discovered that Seung-gil didn't care for little details and only got Yuuri to blush slightly from time to time whenever they were in almost nude proximity of each other. It was a quality both the Korean and Phichit had.

"Remember, keep your chin up," Seung-gil instructed as he impatiently waved Yuuri over to the clothes he had selected. "No stuttering, no hesitance, and most of all, make a good first impression."

"R-Right," Yuuri choked out, pulling on the white button up and trying to button them up.

His hands fumbled with the pale pink tie, and huffing in irritation, Seung-gil folded and looped as quick as lightning so it looked presentable but wasn't too tight or loose around Yuuri's neck.

Stuttering out a thanks, Yuuri slipped on the light grey blazer before hopping from one foot to another to pull on the darker pants.

"Contacts, contacts!" Seung-gil hissed, shoving the small container into Yuuri's hands and pushing him onto the bed.

While Yuuri blinked rapidly as he applied the little pieces of plastic carefully, Seung-gil muttered darkly to himself and cursed in Korean as he shoved Yuuri's feet into some shoes.

While Yuuri was definitely not fluent in the language, he knew Seung-gil long enough to recognize some words. Such as: "this idiot" and "gonna kill him one day".

"Now go!" Seung-gil snapped, his brows furrowed as he shoved Yuuri out of the flat and slammed the door behind them. "Phichit's waiting; Katsuki, hurry your ass up!"

"Okay, okay!" Yuuri squealed, sprinting to catch up with him. He wasn't sure if Seung-gil knew, but the Korean was quite frightening when he wanted to be.

They ran down the three flights of stairs to see a familiar red-painted vehicle that could only belong to one person who was equally flashy.

"Hi baby!" Phichit grinned cheerfully as the two climbed in. Yuuri blushed and tried to respect the other twos' privacy as they briefly kissed.

"The idiot took longer than I thought it would," Seung-gil grunted as he slipped into the passenger seat. His voice, however, was noticeably softer and less sharp than it had been previously. His affection for Phichit was not widely broadcasted, but among the three of them, they knew that the Thai man held his heart.

"Okay, we got thirty minutes," Phichit said in his ever joyful voice. His hand held Seung-gil's as he started to drive with only one hand. "Plenty of time to get to the studio. You okay, Yuuri?"

"Er, y-yes, Phichit-kun." Yuuri said, smiling slightly. However, his nerves prevented him from fully grinning. Of course he was nervous; he was about to head a freaking interview to work on set with not only one of Hollywood's best film directors, but also Viktor Nikiforov.

Oh god. Just the name was enough to send Yuuri's heart into overdrive and get his cheeks red. Yes, it was not a secret amongst his friends (which weren't many) that he had what was called a celebrity crush on Viktor. And to actually work with this almost god-like man was a dream come true. Also a nightmare, because Yuuri currently felt like he was about to throw up.

"Remember. Confidence," Seung-gil reminded him as they finally reached the studio with five minutes to spare.

Phichit's beaming smile was a complete contrast against his boyfriend's serious composure. "Good luck, Yuuri~!"

"R… Right!" Yuuri nodded. "Thank you, Phichit-kun, Seung-gil-kun."

"No problem!" Phichit chirped.

"Call us when you're done," Seung-gil said in an almost bored voice, his irritation from before completely gone.

Yuuri nodded and gulped, slamming the door shut and watching as the scarlet vehicle drove away.

"Oh kami…" Yuuri squeaked, slipping into his native tongue as he felt sweat drip down his neck.

And then he entered the building.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Viktor leaned back slightly, offering the camera a smile that was borderline sexual. He was dressed in a costume that reminded him slightly of something a figure skater would wear, for it was skin tight, one piece, and eccentric.

"Wonderful!" Cooed the camera man taking the shots. "Now how about something innocent? Yes – exactly! Wonderful, wonderful! Keep that pose!"

Viktor held back a sigh as he did as told, not making a hassle. These model shots were perhaps even worse than the actual acting; they made him wear highly uncomfortable clothes and pose ridiculous shots.

How annoying.

"Alright! Break!"

Viktor's smile immediately dropped as the lights dimmed, several people shooing him away so they could change the background.

Standing off to the side, he scrolled through his Instagram. Might as well do something other than just stand and do nothing at all.

"U-Um… M… Mister Clive… Your coffee…"

"Eh? Oh, thank you, intern."

Intern? Since when had they gotten a new one? That voice wasn't recognizable and definitely not a woman. Interesting.

"Oh – oh no – mister N-Nikiforov, please watch out – !"

The shout was coming closer to Viktor's hearing range.

Raising his eyes, Viktor only had a split second to realize what was happening.

Splash!

"Oh my god!"

"Quick, napkins!"

The entire crew went into chaos, for there Viktor Nikiforov was, sprawled on the ground, his expression stunned and his clothes absolutely ruined from various drinks.

"Urgh…" Muttered the person on top of Viktor, and the actor stared at him.

Eyes the color of molten amber stared back, several black strands of hair falling in front of slightly tanned skin from the otherwise slicked back bangs. Slightly parted lips were glossy and pink and full, cheeks red as they stared at each other. And suddenly, Viktor realized something. This… being. This person. Was completely and utterly beautiful. What could Viktor compare it to? An angel? A god? No… A snowflake. So delicate and unique and pretty.

And this said snowflake let out a gasp from his (absolutely delicious-looking) lips as he tried to scramble off of Viktor but failed due to clumsiness.

"M-Mister Nikiforov! I'm so sorry, I-I wasn't watching myself – " this man blabbered, his whole face turning a slow red. Viktor found it adorable.

And suddenly, his switch was flipped on, and a smile upturned Viktor's lips. It was different from the one he gave the camera and his fans; it was genuine and god, something came flooding back that he had lost all those years ago. Inspiration. Motivation.

Chuckling lowly, Viktor slowly sat up, causing the said 'intern' to sit up as well. The ravenette flushed even more, thinking that the actor was laughing at his foolish actions. However, Viktor's next move fully disapproved that theory.

"Please…" Viktor purred, taking his hand and raising it to his lips. He kissed his knuckles slowly and gently, enjoying how even the man's ears turned red. "Call me Viktor.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Okay, before all the questions; I am indeed aware of what Seung-gil is saying. While I was raised and born in America, culturally I was raised in my Korean environment. I know enough of my native language to let Seung-gil say what he likes without a translator.

Oh, and, Seung-gil's first yell was somewhere along the lines of "Katsuki Yuuri! You're really going to get it today!"

Another thing to address; as I have mentioned, since I was raised in a Korean culture, it is natural for me to put one's surname in front of their first. I'm only going to do it for Yuuri and Seung-gil, but for everyone else, regular First Name Last Name.

I just absolutely love Seung-gil, it upsets me that people seem to forget my baby in their own fanfiction stories. So, yes, I do indeed ship him with Phichit and yes will make him one of Yuuri's closest friends. Sue me.

Okay then, until next time~~

Er, the next chapter might not be out for a while, school is my main priority.