because it's alek and johnny's 18th birthday so here u go ;w;

also i figured johnny's backstory wud be interesting to write so

I CANT THINK OF A BETTER TITLE FOR THIS CHAPTER DONT BLAME ME AHHAAHAHAHAHAH

—

Yekaterinburg, Russia
Year 2028

"Now, remember, your name is Sebastian." said the woman. "You hear me? Sebastian Belorusov."

"I know that's my name," The young boy questioned, "But why did those kids call me 'Alek' when they saw me? This isn't the first time, too. Everywhere I go, there will be people who act as if they know me, as if my name was 'Alek'. Who's he?"

"I knew I never should have let you gone outside," the woman sighed. "This 'Alek' they're talking about, it might just be a doppelganger. A famous one, perhaps."

"Whoever that Alek boy is, I want to see him." The six-year-old insisted. "I need to know more about my doppelganger. See if he really does look like me."

The woman shook her head. "I can't risk that."

He frowned. "But why? How is it risky? I don't see the danger in seeing who he is. Besides, you know I can handle myself well. Mama—"

"No," His mother snapped. "I'm not letting you. I have my reasons."

Sebastian was about to protest, but decided it would save more time not to. He sighed. "Okay, how about we just watch some movies on the television?"

The older woman's lips had switched from a straight line to a loving smile in an instant. "Alright."

She grabbed the remote to turn the television on without being aware of the boy's intentions (which is to see if the famous 'Alek' was there). She then handed the device to him, letting him switch to another channel.

Showcasing at the moment was a Hollywood movie; Sebastian caught sight of a young woman with ash-brown hair. And she looked an awful lot familiar, but he couldn't remember where he had last seen her.

"Mama," he asked, "Who is this lady?"

He swore he saw his mother tense at the sight of the woman on TV. Her jaw clenched. "She's... just some American actress. No one important. Not to us, at least."

Sebastian furrowed his eyebrows. He was still convinced the lady on the screen looked familiar; like he has seen her before. Not just on TV, but in personal. Or maybe in a forgotten dream. "What's her name?"

"I told you, it's not important." Mrs. Belorusova grabbed the remote. "Let's switch to another channel."

But the next channel displayed yet another face familiar to the boy's memory. It showed the Winter Olympics—skating along the ice was a blonde, slender-framed guy in his 20s.

"Oooh, he's Russian!" Sebastian pointed. "And his name is Yuri Plisets—"

"I think that is enough TV for today," His mother switched the television off at once.

"But we've only had it on for like ten seconds—"

"Go to your training room."

"I've already trained enough! Have you seen me beat that wrestler to a pulp yesterday? I'm already really strong for my age—"

"You are, but it's not enough." she said sternly. "Go on, now. You need all the time to train before we travel to Germany."

The boy glanced down at the floor miserably as he began to set off for the training room. "If you say so, Mama..."

+++

Montreal, QC, Canada

Sebastian was feeling exhausted from all the traveling; they had travelled from Yekaterinburg, to Moscow, to Frankfurt, to Geneva, to Paris, to Brighton, to London, and then to Montreal in a week, yet, his health was still in a perfect condition nonetheless.

"Mama, you look like you're about to throw up again," He observed. "Are you sure you don't want to cancel our flight to Dertroit tomorrow?"

"Dertroit will be our final stop for the month," Mrs. Belorusova smiled. "I'll be fine, don't worry. Just one more flight to go."

"Why do we keep travelling, though?" Sebastian asked. "Like, we keep jumping from one city to another, one country to another... can't we just stay in Yekaterinburg?"

"I have my reasons, dear." she replied.

"I want to visit New York, though," he said. "I heard it's a really cool place."

Mrs. Belorusova shook her head disapprovingly. "New York, along with California—these are places we should never visit. Too risky for a boy like you."

"I still don't understand how it's risky at all," said Sebastian. "They're just U.S. states. The most populated ones. I don't see anything wrong. A lot of people visit those places, so it must be awesome—"

"You do not understand, do you?"

"Of course I don't," he snapped. "You never tell me anything. You just say 'I have my reasons' but you never tell me what those reasons are."

"You'll know when you get older. I can assure you."

The young boy sighed as he crossed his arms and leaned back.

The doors were pushed open. A family of dark hair and blue eyes entered the restaurant and occupied a table a little distant away from the Belorusovs.

"What would you like to order, Zac?" The mother asked sweetly.

"Uh, poutine, of course." The boy replied with a cheeky grin. He was a kid; only about two years older than Sebastian.

"How about you, Jeanne?" the woman turned to the younger child—a girl, around the age of four.

Little Jeanne wasn't paying attention to her mother's question, but was staring at the boy with ash-brown hair and turquoise eyes sitting not too far away. She felt herself blushing. "I-I didn't know A-Alek would be here."

"What do you mean?" Eight-year-old Zac cocked a brow at his sister. "Alek is in the Philippines right now. He can't be here."

Mrs. Belorusova noticed the Leroy family at last, and immediately ordered Sebastian to pull his hood up and switch seats so that way, they wouldn't be able to see his face or his head from that angle.

"Huh? But he's right there," Jeanne pointed. Her family followed her gaze.

"God, Jeanne, you've been thinking about Alek too often to the point that you're already starting to have hallucinations about him." said Zac.

"But I wasn't—"

"Aw, our little Jeanny's got a crush," Isabella smiled.

"That's cute, but I think it's time for us to order now." JJ chuckled. "The waiter is coming over."

"Are you done with your food?" Mrs. Belorusova asked her son.

He nodded.

"Good. Time for us to go, then." She placed the bill on the table before grabbing his hand as they left the restaurant, passing by the table where the Leroy family gathered.

Sebastian's eyes met Jeanne's, but to him she was only a stranger so he looked away. Jeanne, however, continued to stare at him. How could Alek have ignored her just like that? He could have at least smiled or said hello, but he acted as if they were only strangers.

+++

Yekaterinburg, Russia
Year 2031

"You've just gotten into another fight, didn't you?" Mrs. Belorusova frowned as Sebastian walked out of the school gates, a backpack slung over his shoulder as he approached her. For someone who had just gotten into a fight, he looked perfectly fine, though his knuckles were visibly red.

He snorted. "Isn't that what all my training's for?"

Mrs. Belorusova sighed. "I already told you. You fight for defense, not for entertainment. Sebastian, this is like the 15th time you've been sent to the office. You might as well get suspended."

"There's still no stopping me from doing what I want to do."

His mother glared at him.

He scoffed. "Alright, fine. I'll try to behave."

Mrs. Belorusova nodded. "Good."

"Can I stay in the library for a while, though?" Sebastian asked.

"For what?"

"Studying," he said. "You know about the upcoming exams. And I won't make any more trouble inside, I promise."

Mrs. Belorusova looked doubtful, but she approved anyway. "Alright. You better."

And he scampered back into the school building.

+++

The library had always been one of Sebastian's favorite places. After all, this was the only place where he had access to the internet. His mother had restricted him to use it back home.

He used one of the computers in the library to do more research on the Plisetsky family. He already knew about his doppelganger, Alek, and the parents, and the siblings. He just needed more information.

More or less, he needed to know if the Plisetskys had a long lost child.

However, so far, none.

But he didn't give up there. He went on searching their closest friends, including the Katsuki-Nikiforovs, the Altins, the Leroys, and the Popovich.

The Altins and the Leroys lived far, so he excluded them from his options. The Katsuki-Nikiforovs could be here in Russia, but they could also be in Japan at the moment. So that left the Popovich family. They lived in Saint Petersburg, which is still within the country.

+++

Saint Petersburg, Russia

"Tell me again why you wanted to come here?" Mrs. Belorusova asked as they walked around the streets of Saint Petersburg.

"It's a beautiful city," Sebastian remarked. "Plus, I wanted to check out the palaces here. I might own one someday."

He scanned around the area for the skating rink used by Yuri Plisetsky, Mila Babicheva, Georgi Popovich, Viktor Nikiforov and their children—according to his research.

At last, he caught sight of it. Then he turned to his mother. "You won't mind if I take a piss, would you? You can just wait for me in that café."

"Alright, go on. But be careful." Mrs. Belorusova, though reluctant about the idea of leaving her son be, walked off to the nearest café.

Instead of looking for a restroom, Sebastian headed straight for the skating rink.

As he entered, he found the ice already occupied by three kids—one boy who was probably a year older, another boy who was obviously younger (around 6 years old, he assumed), and a girl about the same age.

"Did you just see me land that double toe loop?" The girl told her brothers eagerly as she glided over to them.

"That was amazing, sestra!" The younger boy clapped. "Do it again! Do it again!"

"Be careful not to trip again, though," the eldest warned. Then he noticed the boy standing by the entrance. "Oh hey, Alek's back from America."

"Yeah, uh... hi." Sebastian walked towards them slowly.

"Hey, bro!" The girl beamed as she began to skate over to him, but she tripped on the ice.

Sebastian winced. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," She nodded as her older brother helped her up. She grinned. "Great to see you again! Did you bring us anything from America? Food, maybe? A new pair of ice skates?"

"Uh—"

"Come on, you've been gone for a year! You should have at least brought us something. But if you have none, that's cool. I could really use a new pair of ice skates, though."

"I didn't bring you anything," said Sebastian, already feeling a little annoyed but he tried not to show it. "Sorry. But um, next time, maybe."

"Where's Uncle Yuri?" The older boy asked. This one had the same blue eyes as his siblings, but while the other two had red hair, his was black. "And Natasha? Aunt Audrey and Andrei too."

"Oh, they're off somewhere. Shopping." he replied. "I'm supposed to be with them right now, but I figured I wanted to pay you guys a visit first."

"Join us on the ice, Alek!" said the redheaded boy.

Sebastian swallowed. He never really knew how to skate. "Sorry, can't. I have to get back to my parents and my siblings soon. Before I go, there's something I want to ask."

"Go ahead," said the dark-haired boy.

"Have you ever heard anything about Ale—I mean me—having a long lost twin brother or something?" He asked. "I know this is really random, but I was just wondering."

"A long lost twin brother?" The youngest kid's eyes brightened. "That would be cool!"

The older two exchanged looks. "Well... I don't know, but..." the older brother spoke, "Natasha did tell us she'd witnessed her mom crying over a chest box with the initials 'I.J.N' every night. And that inside it had a strand of brown hair, and a baby picture."

"That is suspicious," The sister nodded.

"Well," Sebastian's turquoise eyes widened. "Thanks. I guess I have to go now. See you guys again soon."

And with that, the nine-year-old left, the new information stuck to his memory. It may be possible. He might be a long lost Plisetsky.

He is never going to tell his 'mother' about this.

+++

Yekaterinburg, Russia
Year 2034

Many times he promised his mother he wouldn't cause any more trouble. Many times he broke that promise.

After burning his Social Studies teacher's house down, he was finally exiled to Juvenile Detention Center, where he had to wear an orange suit like a prisoner.

Twelve-year-old Sebastian Belorusov was officially titled as Russia's worst delinquent. His misdeeds were recognized by millions as images of his face were all over the news.

"What a shame a boy with such a handsome face turned out to be like this," the reporter remarked.

Fortunately for him, he didn't spend too long in the juvy. He was only there for two days when one of the teachers called him out of his room. Someone had paid to free him.

He scowled. "Mama doesn't have enough money to do that. So who..."

He was surprised to see the Hollywood celebrity standing before him. She was a woman he recognized—her brown eyes were filled with tears as she glanced at the boy.

He was too stunned to the point that he stayed frozen in spot.

"Jonathan," She called to him, her arms reaching out as if she wanted to hold him. "My poor baby, oh, what have they done to you—"

"That's not my name."

Tears continued to flow from the woman's eyes. "A-all this time, I-I thought you were—" she began to cry harder. "I-I'm your m-mother—"

"No you're not! Leave me alone!" he replied coldly, slapping her hand away as she made an attempt to touch his cheek. He ran off, leaving the American woman to weep.

It took him a moment to realize, but he was tearing up too.

+++

Moscow, Russia
Year 2035

It's been a year since his encounter with the woman, and they'd never seen each other after that.

Considering he has stopped causing mischief, most people had forgotten about the misdeeds he had committed the past years and instead started feeling pity for him, especially after his mother's death not too long ago.

For months, he wandered the streets alone, looking for jobs so he can raise money for his own needs. Unfortunately, most employers still couldn't trust him so it was quite difficult.

He had no family. Not much money. He lost everything, including the will to live.

He spent the remaining of his money on dyeing his hair platinum blonde.

It was until a modeling agent from America found him, and offered him a job. A 13-year-old Russian boy with breathtakingly good looks was just what they needed.

"We tried to use Alek Plisetsky, Audrey and Yuri Plisetsky's son, for this photoshoot but he wasn't really good at modeling." the agent explained. "He can't keep a serious face for even a single second. That boy just couldn't resist making funny faces and laughing."

He accepted the offer. Soon enough, he left Russia to return to his country of birth, the United States.

+++

Barcelona, Spain
January 2039

"Hey, pretty lady," a Spaniard crept up behind the Russian girl. "Aren't you the Plisetskys' only daughter? You look even cuter up close—"

Within the blink of an eye, Natalya had turned around and sent her fist balling against the guy's intestines. "I'm fourteen, you creep!"

"Age is just a number, you know," the guy was wincing in pain, his hands over his abdomen, but he kept his smile which annoyed the girl even more. "And I'm not that much older than you. Just a nine-year gap, that's all—"

Utterly disgusted, Natalya raised her fist for another punch, but this time the guy caught her wrist. "I take martial arts, too, you know. You just got lucky the first time."

"Hey," someone spoke from behind.

The Spaniard turned around. Standing there was an attractive teenage guy in a black leather jacket. He had platinum blonde hair, and Natalya recognized that face immediately.

She scowled. "You never told me you were planning to dye your hair, Kuya."

The guy stared into his sister's sexual assailant with piercing turquoise eyes. "You have three seconds to run."

"Yeah?" he snorted. "And what are you gonna do, pretty boy? Write a song on how much you hate guys who pick on your sissy? Hit me with a guitar?"

It was so sudden, even for Natalya. Three seconds hadn't even gone by, yet Alek's doppelganger already had one slender hand wrapped around the other guy's neck. He slammed the assailant's head against the brick wall, causing blood to pour out from his head and mouth.

Natalya gasped. "Oh my God, Kuya, did you just—"

The sixteen-year-old boy dropped the man, letting him cough out more blood. "You've only reached stage one of my anger. Approach my sister like that one more time..."

Even Natalya was a little intimidated by this. She made a run for it, and screamed like a banshee when she saw her older brother standing with the rest—his hair was light brown, and he was wearing a blue hoodie. No more were the platinum hair, or the leather jacket.

She stuttered, "H-how d-did you—"

"Natalya, are you okay?" Alek regarded her with a concerned look, wiping the sweat off her forehead. "You look like you've just seen a ghost."

"We—need—" Natalya spoke in between panting, "—to speak—to—Mom and Dad—"

+++

Somewhere inside one of the restaurants, the whole team were gathered, discussing Alek's mystery doppelganger.

"I knew that wasn't Alek who came to the ice rink to see us eight years ago!" Alexei exclaimed. "He's Sebastian Belorusov, that juvenile kid who burned his teacher's house!"

Yuuri, Viktor, Mila, Georgi, and Otabek all stared at Audrey and Yurio.

"It can't be possible, can it?" Yurio was slightly trembling. "T-that Sebastian boy couldn't have been Jonathan—he died in the fire sixteen years ago—"

Audrey bit her lip and stayed silent on the subject.

"I saw him, too!" said Clarissa Fernandez, Audrey's eldest daughter. "Earlier this afternoon... he had white hair, obviously dyed... he approached me..."

"Oh my God," Zac's jaw dropped. "Is that... is that him?"

He pointed at the newly-arrived customer standing by the entrance. The guy with the platinum blonde hair, and the same turquoise eyes as Yuri and Alek Plisetsky. The guy who had just rescued Natalya from that sexual assailant.

He smiled. "Hi, I'm Jonathan Plisetsky, in case you still don't know by now."

—

3000+ words holy shit

lmao why am i making my kids hate me ;w;

anyway i should write more about their love lives

yall have already read zac leroy's backstory w his ex so

-admin oddree