Aibek was more than ready to speak with Jake, even if the latter showed himself to be stubborn; they were going to talk, of that there was no doubt. So, when they took a table, the Canadian simply crossed his arms in silence. He would wait for the Kazakh to speak, although, being a creature whose pride was severely wounded, he would not listen to reason, let alone apologies.
"Jake, just listen to me, please. After that, you can forget me if you want... but... listen to me, please," Beky begged. His voice broke just a little because he felt terrible due to the argument they had just had, but that didn't stop him from calming himself down.
That voice caused the named man to lose his footing a bit; in all the years he had known Aibek, he hadn't heard him speak like that since the time he bottled up his feelings when his teddy bear got lost at six years old. Jake felt his heart constrict, for he had promised himself that his sweet love would never get hurt, but now his foolish pride was driving him to do stupid things. But... why couldn't he stay angry? he asked himself, though for a fleeting split second he believed the Kazakh was putting on a great performance. He said nothing, only averting his gaze so as not to fall for what he was doing; that was what he believed, entirely unaware that nothing was false except his own thoughts.
"Fine, I'm listening now..." He showed annoyance over what was happening; of course, his heart ached for doing that to his friend... no... to his love, his sweet love. Slowly, he watched how the dark-haired youth in front of him crumbled in a way he had never seen before: those tears fell so fast, abundant, so large. There was so much pain in that moment, and he, a massive idiot, hadn't noticed it until he heard him speak with a voice so broken, so hollow.
"Yes, I was in love with him... but... when he hurt me in such a ruthless way, my heart shattered... I wanted to relapse into smoking all day long... into... trying to jump off a building... or... trying to have something tragic happen to me in one of the competitions..." Of course, there lay the reason why Aibek had almost died performing a jump so complicated that, fortunately for the Canadian, didn't claim his life; and unfortunately for the Kazakh, it only resulted in bruises that weren't severe, as he had given up at the last second, though he still won a silver medal. "But in the end I gave up, nothing happened, I just went on with my life as if I didn't care... in the end, what could I even claim? Then you appeared, I remembered those childhood years and... I thought that maybe I wasn't in love with him... but rather trying to fill the void you left in me... but I understand if you don't want to see it that way... or well... if you don't want to, you know... there's no problem, I won't give you trouble, much less look for you... forgive me."
With that, Aibek left the bills on the table and ran out while crying; his heart was broken. Perhaps he already had a new theme for his free short program for the next competition, which was less than six months away, so he just ran. He ran toward where he was staying on vacation with the Canadian, grabbed all his things, and left; he didn't see what he was packing, he just cried, covered his face with a face mask, and left the place to catch a taxi that would take him to the airport.
In the café, the Canadian was still processing everything. Of course, it would be far too late by the time he reacted, and so it was: he paid quickly, leaving almost as if his soul had been ripped away from him, until he entered the apartment and found nothing. He only found something dropped on the floor, surely dropped by Aibek in his haste: a beautiful angry-bear keychain that looked old. Jake did not hesitate to pick it up delicately and cradle it in his hands; he wept, he wept for having lost the love of his life, he wept for not having stopped him, he wept for having made him feel so miserable. He deserved it, he deserved to be left that way, but he would still search for him.
Everything that had transpired was enough to break them both. One was submerged in his sadness, while the other would seek a way to find his beautiful Kazakh; he would not leave him alone, he would not leave him at the mercy of that Russian who surely planned everything to drive them apart. He was upset, not with Aibek, but with himself; he had committed a massive stupidity.
"I will find you... no matter how long it takes me... but darling, you will be happy again, and by my side..." Those were his words as he held the small bear keychain in his hands, for he had run outside again to look for Aibek, but upon not finding him, he tried to call him. However, the youth was not going to answer him, so he stopped bothering the Kazakh to think better on his apologies and where he could find him, unaware that Bek was already on a flight back to his homeland, Kazakhstan.
On airplane number 0478, he was at window 20, in the VIP area, because even though he was modest, this time he would use a cubicle just to cry in silence, to cry in his solitude while holding the notebook where he had drawn the Canadian. It would be difficult to forget him, to forget his kisses and his silly smiles, but he had to do it because he believed the older man was already doing so; after all, he caught sight of a post of his at a skating rink.
"I know... I was always replaceable..." he murmured softly while weeping, now hugging a stuffed animal. If anyone saw him, they would have the urge to hug him and say, "Everything will be okay," but at that moment he was alone, just crying and feeling numb.
The flight had no further complications, added to the fact that Aibek didn't even taste a bite, neither lunch nor dinner, so he stepped off the plane without much spirit. There was no one to receive him, and he only reached home via taxi: a small apartment with few things, since he was always in other countries for competitions. Furthermore, he had no one waiting at home. Pets? Yes, he had a ferret, whom he went to fetch from his neighbor's house, who happily handed him over since she was completely trustworthy; she always fed him well, and he looked very chubby. That cheered him up so much that he began to laugh softly, thanking her and paying for the cost of the food she bought him. In the clothes he was wearing, he headed to his apartment, where he pampered and played for a while with him, his little Taro. Only later did his spirits drop again when he took the things out of his suitcase, and as if Taro knew his owner was unwell, he tried to cheer him up by weaving through his clothes, achieving his goal: a small laugh from his master.
That would be the first night of pain, but later there would be a change; Aibek would change so much that no one would recognize him. Would it be for the better? He didn't even know yet, but he would try.
That was how their lives parted ways, until the most awaited event for the Canadian finally arrived: the Grand Prix.