This show delves into Ovvianâs strength and resilience in her nomadic existence. Her work reflects the constant flux of two countries and the complexities of living a life of different roles, providing us a glimpse into the artist's own life and the experiences that have shaped her worldview.
Join us at Imahica Art Gallery in Wack Wack.
RSVP now! https://www.imahica.art/rsvp/
Date: FEBRUARY 18 to MARCH 4, 2023
Location: Imahica Art Gallery, Wack Wack, Mandaluyong City
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
I've finally updated the status of the fic to ABANDONED, I was going to do that way earlier but I didn't want to admit defeat, and then I just kind of forgot... Time really starts flying by as you get older, it totally doesn't feel like 2 years passed by^^' I'm still writing scenes for later on in the fic, and I've had the general outline of the story planned for a long time, but I haven't been able to write complete chapters for any of my projects for over a year now, it's very annoying.
Anyway, this is the rest of chapter 9, not my best work but at least I like the part with Toris. He's noticed Ivan's small efforts of being nicer and wants to encourage them.
Thanks for everyone who read this story and sorry for not being able to bring it to conclusion for all of you who were invested!
-
Ivan sent Fredya home until Wednesday â claiming it was so he could concentrate on work, but he was sure Fredya could tell he was just fretting about the upcoming meeting. Ivan was terrified Katyushka would get carried away, and that was closer to certainty rather than possibility, and then Fredya would walk out of his life. He had known from the start that the time would come sooner or later, but he had much hoped it would fall on the later end of the spectrum. This was a wholly different case from that of his first girlfriend - the one he had been with all of three days before Katyusha started talking about weddings. She had left him the next day, not surprisingly, and he hadnât really cared one way or the other - she had been far too practical to occupy his thoughts when she wasnât in sight. But if Fredya left as suddenly, and he was certainly impulsive enough to do so on the spot, then... Obviously it still wouldnât be the end of the world,of course it wasnât the worst thing that could happen, losing a home for example would be far worse than losing a companion, it really wasnât that big of an issue when you thought about it â there was no reason to lose what little will to live Ivan had left over something that insignificant. No reason.
So Ivan would not worry about it â he slammed the door on the thought, and worked hard to put all his concentration on his notes. He had not yet studied Rogers enough, his files on the computer had sat abandoned for too long. Opening his folder, going over the routes again, verifying time codes, Ivan fell to a comfortable, familiar routine, cup of tea beside him growing cold. Rogers didnât have much of a routine, which made observing him a challenge and data collecting a thrill. At least this was an activity that Ivan could still lose himself in despite whatever non-turmoil was boiling in his gut. Comparing coordinates, discovering overlaps, identifying patterns, data was something Ivan was good at. Data had no emotions, so it was easy to handle. Data didnât mind his extracurriculars, didnât judge him for his jealousy, didnât snoop into his past.
Though it also didnât text him at 3 am to tell him about a silly dream it had. Even less it cared about whether he was coming home for the night or not. It not wanting to watch brainless, cliched superhero should have been a positive, but in the dark, the brain gets sentimental. Ivan suddenly wished he had a file on Fredya. Ivan certainly had enough data on him, though so far it was all in his brain and a few lines in his notebooks. One photo on his phone, a selfie Fredya had sent some weeks ago. It was taken with one of those filter things, Ivan wasnât familiar with the apps so he couldnât tell if it was instagram or snappychat or whatever others there were. Fredya had cartoon glasses on his nose, on top of his real-life glasses. He was doing a victory sign, and there was a badly drawn pink heart floating in the lower left corner, not anchored into anything.
The composition of the photo was bad. A large dead space occupied the top left, a pile of dirty clothes was poking into the frame from the bottom right. The lighting was scarcely better, the only diffuser was the dust inside the light fixture. Fredyaâs artistic ability was nil, though he did make for an attractive subject, harsh shadows and all. It would be nice to have proper photo of him, before he got out of reach. With a reference to guide him, it might be possible. Ivan quickly scanned his bedroom for inspiration.
Perhaps it was too much effort for 2 a.m., but Ivan rather liked the end result. The handful of stars drawn on the wall to form a suggestion of a halo â however wrong it looked on Ivan â and hands posed to form a heart on the chest, and some minor lighting adjustments on photoshop, he thought it near perfectly captured how Ivan saw Fredya. Bright, innocent, center of the universe, unashamed of his affections. Fredya wouldnât put as much effort in to it, even if he did take his own version of the photo as Ivan had requested, but that was also good. It wasnât in Fredyaâs nature to try too hard at something he didnât feel like understanding - such as art other than of the moving pictures variety. Together, the photos formed a piece â the fantasy and the reality. It was a commentary on expectations.
Fredya may or may not look at the photo when he inevitably got up to go the bathroom sometime soon, but he wouldnât take his own until afternoon if ever, so Ivan finally went to bed. He only had a few hours before his shift started.
-_-_-_-_-
Fredya had sent an emoji Ivan didnât understand the meaning as response to the photo, followed by hearts and something that seemed to be an abbreviation, Ivan didnât research the meaning. It likely wasnât important.
Ivan got coffees for everyone again, and Amanda gave him a incredulous look. It was getting suspicious, Ivan acting nice. He should dial down on the social interactions for the next few days.
It would be good practice for when Fredya left him, anyway.
âOh, thank you for going through the troubleâ, Toris commented smiling. Ivan studied the smile, trying to map out proportions and gauge timings, but again he failed to replicate the gesture. It kept coming out as sarcastic.
He would prefer if both would just shut up and their coffees without scrutinizing his intentions. Let a man act civil to fellow humans beings in peace.
âIf everyone is done sitting around, we need someone to go interview Fowlerâs parishioners.â
Predictably, Amanda volunteered for the task. That left Ivan and Toris at the office, reading through statements, comparing alibis and viewing security footage, the same draining and pointless sinkhole of never-ending choppy black-and-white footage that glared a print of the screen in your soul, so that in the end when you lost everything else to dementia and cataracts, you would still see that stinging bright rectangle staring you in the eye, smirking gleefully, taking pleasure in removing everything one used to take joy in, and replacing itself in place of loved ones.
That metaphor ran a little wild at the end, there. In all fairness, it could be intriguing work when results could reasonably be expected, but everyone and their mother knew the only thing learned from these particular ones would be just how much time were wasting on them. Even Toris, being his professional self, couldnât resist glancing at the clock every few minutes. He would of course try to make it inconspicuous, just letting his eyes dart to his wrist and back again, but it was noticeable enough when one was more concentrated on the coworker than the work. It came to Ivanâs mind that perhaps this was another aspect of Toris he should try to simulate, rather than keep studying, his work ethic was excellent. Surely that was something most people would approve of. And Fredya did often complain Ivan was rather lackadaisical about his work, he would appreciate the effort.
âHow do stay so focused?â he asked sincerely. It was admirable, really, how Toris could throw himself at something so tedious.
Toris blinked at him in confusion, probably surprised to see his colleague who was supposed to working beside him blatantly ignoring said work.
âIâve practiced it for years, thereâs really no easy trick for it.â
âAh. Shame.â
âI find that meditating regularly helps. And a good diet.â Well, that was already two things Ivan would not be trying out. âI could send you some articles  if youâd like.â
âYou should spend your free time on yourself. You work too much.â
Ivan went idly back to his files, not really feeling like working, but deciding to at least give it a shot, but feeling Torisâ curious eyes still fixed on him was too much of a distraction. After several seconds of silence he couldnât take it anymore.
âYes?â
âThank you. That was considerate of you.â
Ivan didnât know how to answer that. It had been such a banal thing to say. Not warranting any response, really. Just a stock phrase, however true of some people and situations - such as this particular specimen. Toris must have heard the exact same statement hundreds of times in his life, knowing that he had an actual social circle who cared for him. Ivan was outside that circle, and people rarely care for the things outsiders say in matters like these - surely Toris should feel nothing particular about anything Ivan said. There was no need for him to smile like that, it was just embarrassing for a grown man to get so giddy about faint praise.
Ivan scoffed and went back to his work.
-_-_-_-_-
U maek a habot of drawning on walls huh
Outside of his brief childhood, Ivan had only ever drawn on walls three times - once in a drunk, misguided bout of creative frenzy, once to write his number on an intriguing manâs wall to annoy him, and once in an attempt to save a relic of happier times for the future.
Mostly when you are involved, it seems. Perhaps you are my muse for wall-related artistry
It had been a while since Ivan had drawn a portrait, but now might be the time to dust off that skill set. Ivan considered himself more of a photographer, but there was also something appealing about creating from scratch. Although... he would need to keep the portrait hidden, it would raise questions and pity later on. Ivan wished he was better at abstraction, that way it wouldnât look like Fredya to anyone else, but his mind seemed to be too observational for it. It could only make sense of things that connected together in realistic ways, it couldnât create anything out of feelings alone. Perhaps he simply didnât have enough of them for that kind of art.
The dinner with Fredya and his sisters was a few hours away, but Ivan was already nervously ironing his clothes. He once again pleaded Katyusha to control her romantic impulses, and of course she promised, but Ivan knew that meant little. She had very bad self-control.
Tashaâs picking me up, weâll meet you there
Natasha was coming? Nataliya was coming?! Fuck - what was she - this was bad news - why hadnât she said - oh god, forget about Katyusha ruining everything if Nataliya Grigorova was coming!
She never mentioned wanting to come along
That sneaky little girl, she told me you said it was okay, haha
He would not survive this night sober.
He wanted to make a good impression. He did not want to be drunk when the only three people who mattered to him were all in the same room. He wanted to be fully conscious, to enjoy an outing with his family while being fully genuine, not just sedated into calmness.
But lord knew he would not survive the night sober.
-_-_-_-_-
Remembering the fit Fredya had thrown the last time Ivan had driven not-strictly-drunk-but-also-not-sober, he was glad that they had arranged beforehand for Fredya to pick him up. Because he was observant in the most inconvenient ways, Ivan had been sure Fredya would notice something was off, maybe a smell or the slow movements to counteract the unsteady hand-to-eye-coordination, but fortunately he was too stoked about meeting Ivanâs sisters again, officially, to notice Ivanâs oddly calm demeanor. He babbled excitedly the whole way there, and was halfway across the street before Ivan had even fully exited the car.
âCome on you snail! Theyâre gonna think we ditched them!â
âItâs only a few minutes away, you can afford to slow downâ, Ivan chuckled. Fredya was so adorably excited, he resembled a puppy on a walk. âBeing overeager is as bad as being late.â
âBeg to disagree! Pick up the pace slowpoke!â
Fredya sped up ahead, Ivan kept his leisurely pace. He missed the re-introductions, but it seemed like he hadnât been needed for those at all - Fredya and Katyushka already looked like old friends, while Tasha regarded him with a haughty look, but nary a nasty word. She raised an eyebrow at Ivan, as if saying really, you chose this clown over me?, and he simply smiled pleasantly at her.
As they waited for their food to arrive, Fredya and Katyushka were unsurprisingly the only ones to hold up conversation. They had found a common ground in Star Trek - in that Katyusha had heard a lot about it, but had never watched an episode and was interested, and Fredya was an expert in all the series and films and liked talking about them. They went through the pacifistic ideas on the original series and how it sometimes contradicted itself on it, analyzing the casting choices for the remakes, some more things that Ivan had no interest in. Â When their plates were brought, the were in the midst of trying to speak klingon - the attempts of both of them were saddeningly hilarious. Or perhaps they were both surprisingly accurate. Ivan had no way of knowing, the franchise being something he had never taken an interest in. Of course he liked space, but he was more fact-oriented than a fan of fanciful fiction.
âYou seem so young, itâs almost like youâre still in collegeâ, Katyusha giggled, and Ivan could not agree more. The youthful energy Fredya exuded was refreshing, at least most of the time.
âNever went to college, I went straight to work from high schoolâ, Fredya explained, crumbs flying. That was the one habit that Ivan never found charming in Fredya, it was just plain disgusting. Tasha made a small chortle of contempt that passed Fredya by.
âOur brother is a very intelligent manâ, Tasha commented sharply, and Ivan knew exactly what she was going for â he had come to the same conclusion, himself. And truthfully, neither of them had been wrong - Fredya really was stupid.
âOh, tell me about itâ, the insulted man chuckled, not understanding what was being implied. Ivan would have liked being able to defend Fredya, but the thing was that Fredya was not intelligent â intellectually or socially, and attempting to claim otherwise would have been pointless. He might have been considered smart in some useless areas, such as entertainment trivia, but faint praise is just as damning as admitting faults.
Trivia! There was the opening Fredya needed to impress Tasha!
âHe has a masterâs degree in movie trivia and celebrity gossip, if nothing else. Just give an actorâs name and he will tell you every movie they have ever been in.â
âAnd not just that! I can also tell which year each movie came out!â Fredya exclaimed proudly. Ivan started with an easy one - Tom Cruise. Tasha did look reluctantly impressed as the titles and dates kept on coming, but refused to admit defeat. She tried her favorite actor, someone much more obscure.
âKen Foree?â
âHmm⌠The midnight man, 2017⌠Rift, dark side of the moon 2016, Cut slash pri- no wait, I think he was in Divine tragedies, 2015, Cut slash print 2012 ââ
However, since
Tashaâs obsession with her brother refused to give way to respect for her perceived enemy, she realized that to claim victory she could simply ask about any non-American film star.
âAnastasia Zavorotnyuk.â
âAnastasia who?â Of course he pronounced the name the American way, but Ivan was still mildly impressed he could tell ĐнаŃŃаŃĐ¸Ń and Anastasia were the same name.
âZavorotnyuk.â Tasha allowed herself a malevolent smirk as Fredya racked his brain for the name in vain.
âA true expert wouldnât limit himself only to Hollywoodâ, Tasha hmphed in triumphant malice, believing to have proved her superiority over him once and for all, despite not showing an ability to counter his. It seemed the point had only been to prove Fredya was not omniscient. In Ivanâs eyes, it was enough to be merely well-versed.
âHe does hate subtitles to the point where I thought he might be illiterateâ, Ivan joked.
âHey, at least I speak the language of the country I live in!â
âVerily, my darling, thou speakest with the most biting of tongues. Shakespeare himself would envy your prowess.â
âThe guy lived like hundreds of years ago, who gives a shit? Ivan Drago was famous in the 80âs.â
âIvan can sound almost native when he triesâ, Katyusha said, trying to diffuse the argument, not knowing the workings of their relationship well enough to tell it was all said in jest.
âI havenât tried in years, I doubt I could anymoreâ, Ivan thought. He had tried training his accent away in high school, so he would sound less foreign in job interviews. Having a foreign name was bad enough in an application. He had never achieved a smooth, natural accent, he had to concentrate very hard which caused the words to come out very slowly and robotically, and still there was always a hint of foreign phonemes. Combined with his attempts to deepen his voice â an incredibly embarrassing failure on its own â had made him cringe, even back then. Tasha had encouraged him, of course, because in her mind anything and everything her dear brother did was the right decision.
Excluding taking romantic interest in someone other than her, of course.
The rest of the evening went by in much the same fashion. Fredya and Katyusha got along swimmingly, Tasha made snide remarks about Fredya, Ivan defended him in mean ways, Fredya played along. It was all very pleasant. Finally the staff started dropping hints that it was time to vacate the table, so they got up and parted ways. Katyusya was enchanted enough to not wait long enough to be out of earshot before starting to gush about her baby brotherâs relationship, which made for a perfect opening for eavesdropping.
âDonât you think Vanechka looks so much happier than usual?â Katyusya said, nearly clapping her hands in excitement.
âIdiocy might be contagiousâ, Tashenka grumbled in response.
âI never imagined heâd go for that type, but I guess it goes to show opposites really do attract!â Katyushka squeed.
âItâs only for the moment. That American moron will start getting on Vanyaâs nerves soonâ, Tashenka claimed, not sounding too confident herself. Ivan had expected that to happen as well, in the beginning.
âI hope he wonât, I think Alfred is good for Vanechka. Heâs come out of his shell.â
What did she mean by that? As far as Ivan was aware, he had never been shy around his sisters. Or other people, for that matter.
âWhatâre you frowning about?â Fredya asked.
âIâm eavesdropping. Katyusha likes you, and Natasha doesnât despise you.â
âWell thatâs good news isnât it?â Fredya smiled, and tried to hear the women. âMan, you got great hearing. I canât hear them at all.â
Yes, it did take some practice to achieve Ivanâs level of spying on other peopleâs conversations. And by then they had gotten far enough that Ivan couldnât hear then anymore either, actually.
âYour eardrums must be damaged from the all screeching you do.â
âYouâre walking home, asshole.â
-
Tasha + Katyushka = affectionate nicknames for Nataliya and Yekaterina. Tashenka + Katyusya = one level more intimate. Ivan is being drunk and sentimental so at the end of the evening, the way he feels about his sisters is something like most people do when seeing tiny kittens.
Thanks again for reading! Maybe in like 10 years so I'll add a final "chapter" describing the rest of the plot, but I know myself and won't make any promises. I have some more snippets on the masterpost if anyone wants to frustrate themselves with a story that will never be finished.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Iâm not expecting anything from you except my favorite smiles of yours... #inmymind #collage #collagework #collageart #bluefudge #imalwayshere #hereandthere #noexpectation #noexpectationsnodisappointments #justsmile #freemix
Getting organized and pumped about our Garage Art Sale, next Saturday! @chuxprint @steeltoebrewing . . #adamturman #organizing #hereandthere #printseverywhere #garageartsale #actionshot #inthestudio (at St. Louis Park, Minnesota)
The Place Between Here And There - Chapter 9: ...And Happiness In Private Life
Masterpost    AO3
Chapter 1 Â Chapter 2 Â Chapter 3 Â Chapter 4 Â Chapter 5 Â Chapter 6 Â Chapter 7 Â Chapter 8 Â Chapter 9 Â Chapter 9(contâd)
This one is super super short(actually just the first few scenes of the complete chapter) because I just canât shake the writerâs block on this fic. Iâm putting this fic on HIATUS, canât say for how long, but I would like to finish it someday. Cowriters will always be extremely welcome!
--
It had been a major fuck-up to not press Vanya more about his family life last night. That had been the first time he had volunteered information, without any prodding from Al, and would have kept talking if only Al hadnât been such an idiot! Yeah, sure, heâd been exhausted and in no condition to analyze whatever wouldâve been told, but he couldâve done that later! Now Vanya had come back to his senses, and his lips were sealed tighter than Fort Knox! Uuuggghhh!!!
Al frowned into his coffee cup while staring at the wall where Vanya had scribbled his number that first time. Back then Al hadnât been surprised to get a number, but as time had went on, he came to realize that Vanya wasnât the type of person who went around sharing his number with just anyone. He was picky about the type of people he socialized with, and honestly, it still kind of baffled Al that he had been one of those Vanya accepted. They couldnât be more different â as charming as Al was, and he was very charming, he couldnât really get Vanya. Al simply could not understand why Vanya didnât want to talk about some things, or why he was content with being a silent participant in a conversation, how he could stand not having friends. His life seemed so profoundly lonely and boring, and he didnât seem content with it, but he wasnât willing to change it, either.
Maybe it was all just because of that mental illness he refused to acknowledge. Itâs never easy losing your parents, and it sounded like Vanya had been pretty young when it happened. He said they had moved to the States in 1996, so Ivan had been, what, around... Uhm, 2015 minus 1996... that made 19... and now Vanya was 32 so that minus 19... Uhhhhhhh around 12. Close enough, Al had never been good at math. Well, 12 wasnât that young, didnât sound to Al like a death in the family would be that traumatizing at that age. Al had been 10 when Artie moved back to England, and it hadnât fucked him up bad. So it wasnât the exact same thing, but it had been close. Five years of radio silence from someone who was practically his older brother. Thatâs basically a death.
So maybe it wasnât just a simple death, maybe thereâd been some weird, special circumstances. Could be that Vanya had been a huge mamaâs boy. Or maybe it had been an accident he was present at, like a car crash. If it had been that, Al sure was lucky Vanya had survived. Kids are so fragile, they can die from the dumbest things. If he hadnât survived, or if his mom had, Vanya wouldâve never moved to America, and then Al wouldâve never met him. Al hated thinking that it was a good thing Vanyaâs mom had died, but he couldnât help it â as infuriating and incomprehensible Vanya was, he really was The One for Al. Despite all their differences, despite all their problems, despite all their fights.
Al was again reminded of their first ever fight, the one with rape fetish accusation. Dubois had been killed that same night, and Vanya hadnât replied to Alâs texts until two days later. If Dubois had been found as quickly as the other bodies, within a couple days instead of ten, Vanya would have been too busy to ever be willing to fix his relationship with a guy he had only been dating a couple weeks, max. Funny how many hurdles they had passed without ever knowing they had existed. If Kyle had gotten to Al first, if Al had followed the street signs better, if Dubois had been found earlier⌠They were like Romeo and Juliet, destined to be together, star-crossed lovers. If that wouldnât convince Artie that Vanya was awesome, nothing would! He was into occult crap so he mustâve believed in fate, too.
Come to think of it, what if Vanya had met Dubois instead of Al that night? He did say they were very similar, he might have fallen in love with Dubois, as well. Al liked to think that he was a special case, that Dubois wouldnât have been as invested and smitten with Vanya as Al had been from the get-go, but whoâs to say he couldnât have held Vanyaâs interest just long enough for Al to pass by unnoticed? Or what if BK had chosen to kill Al instead of Dubois? If they really were that similar to an outside eye, it wouldnât have mattered which one died. Al was lucky he had been too pissed off to even think about going out that night, or it might have been him strangled and castrated. He wouldnât have put it past himself to pick up some random guy and agree to an alley fuck. Maybe Dubois had had a fight with his boyfriend, too. Maybe he hadnât been past having revenge sex. Maybe he had liked rough sex. Maybe he wouldnât have been scared by Vanyaâs violent fucking. Maybe Vanya would have run into him and pounded him into blissful goo. Maybe Vanya would have liked imagining he was beating Al.
Sliding doors, like Al had said about Kyle. In one continuity, Al was dating Vanya and Dubois was killed â in another, Al was killed and Dubois was dating Vanya â and in a third, Al had a one-night stand with Kyle, Vanya had no one to pull him out of depression, and Dubois was dead.
~¨:.:¨~
Ivan entered the office with three coffees in hand â two blacks and one with milk. This was the easiest Toris-like behavior to replicate, and would likely raise the least questions since it also benefited himself. He made sure to let Amanda see him set his own coffee down on the desk before giving hers, and she wasnât weirded out. That was a relief.
âGood morningâ, Ivan said, without smiling, because that would have been pushing it. Amanda nodded in acknowledgment and took a sip of her coffee, then said a simple âthanksâ before opening her computer. When Toris came in, she smiled to him and greeted him cheerfully. After she turned back to her computer, and wouldnât see Ivanâs face, he also smiled slightly as he nodded his greeting to Toris.
That day, Ivan concentrated on trying to replicate the smiles Toris often employed â the ones that didnât express happiness, but were rather meant to ease to atmosphere. He made it look easy â it came out naturally, at the right time, and did what it sought out to do. Ivan only knew how to do sarcastic smiles, and by the end of the day Amanda was almost angry enough at him to actually say something to his face instead of muttering quietly to herself.
Exhausted from the mental work, Ivan didnât even bother getting out of his coat before collapsing face first on the sofa.
âRough day, huh?â Fredya chuckled. Ivan made a grunt, and Fredya crouched down to see his face. âI know whatâll cheer you right up â some quality cuddles and a good movie!â
Ivan was too tired to correct him, and so let Fredya take off his boots and peel off his coat. He nearly refused the cuddles, but surprisingly found that he didnât mind them much, after all. He still would have preferred a nap alone in bed, without explosions and dramatic bass going off every five seconds and Fredyaâs elbow digging into his stomach. Somehow he still managed to fall asleep for a few minutes, not enough to feel rested, but much calmer than before. They heated up leftovers from yesterday, moved back to the sofa where Fredya picked out a new action movie without even finishing the first one, and Ivan took out his notebook to arrange his thoughts.
About an hour passed, with Fredya saying whatever came to his mind and Ivan replying with a short comment every now and then, peacefully, until Ivanâs phone rang. That was starting to happen abnormally often â before he had crossed paths with Fredya, the phone would ring once every couple months, mostly work related. Now Fredya called him every once in a while when he was feeling too lazy to type, and even Katyushka seemed to have been bitten by the call bug. Two calls from her in as many weeks? Ivan hoped she was only calling to borrow some more money.
âExcuse me for a moment.â
âWork?â Fredya asked, pausing the movie. He still thought Ivan was actually watching that garbage.
âNo, itâs Katyusha. Unpause that mindless drivel.â
Ivan got up from Fredyaâs lap, already stressing about what was pressing on Katyushkaâs mind. Donât get him wrong, he loved both his sisters more than anything in the world, but Katyushka barely ever called for anything other than pressing matters, so Ivan had learned to associate calls from her with crying and pressure.
âYes, Katyushka?â
âHey, Vanya. Is this a good time to talk?â Katyushka greeted cheerfully. A weight immediately lifted off Ivanâs shoulders.
âYes, Iâm at home. It sounds like something good happened, yes?â
âI think so!â she giggled gleefully, sounding like the careless teenager she had never gotten the chance to be. âI was talking with Tasha earlier today and she told me some interesting news!â she sang teasingly. How odd, Ivan had no clue what news from Tasha might warrant a call to Ivan. If it was related to Tasha herself, Katyushka would wait for Tasha to tell the news herself, and there were few other people in their lives to get excited about. Tasha was interested in celebrity gossip, but Katyushka did not share that interest, so it couldnât be a movie star getting married.
âOh? Pray tell.â
âDonât play coy with me!â Katyushka laughed. So it was news that Ivan should already be aware of. But then why would Katyushka be telling them to Ivan?
âIf youâre going to make me guess, weâll be here the rest of the dayâ, Ivan replied.
âYou have a boyfriend!â
His heart froze over in panic.
âWhat?! No - I mean â Tasha told you that?â
He was hardly intelligible, it felt like his tongue had thrown in the towel.
âUh-huh!â she squeed, for once oblivious to his terror, and Ivan could picture her jumping in joy. âShe was jealous because you havenât been spending time with her so she complained to me! Why didnât you ever tell me?â
âI â because â Tasha⌠Tasha gets jealous very easily, so I did not wish for her to knowâ, Ivan stuttered, panic setting in, before remembering that Tasha already knew about Fredya. He didnât need to stay a secret anymore. Ivan was just so used to hiding his relationships from Tasha he did without thinking.
âHey, you couldâve told me! I can keep a secret!â Not from Tasha she couldnât. Unintentionally or not. âOoh, Iâm so excited, itâs been a long time since you were with anyone! Is he nice? Good-looking? Does he also want kids? Gay or bi? Single or divorced?â Katyushka had always been the one most interested in romance, despite never having dated in her life. Since high school she had kept claiming that she didnât have the time needed for a solid relationship. While that was true, if only because she would not let herself have the time, Ivan was sure the actual reason was Katyushka being afraid of the apple not falling far from the tree. Her mother and sister sure had trouble picking good men.
âYou are not giving me any time to answerâ, Ivan said, both relieved and nervous. He didnât mind Katyushka knowing about Fredya, in fact they would get along nicely, but Ivan was worried about her putting ideas into Fredyaâs head. Ivan had only ever dated for fun, but each time his older sister had started planning weddings right away, and Ivan didnât want to scare Fredya away so soon.
âDonât be nervous! Iâm really happy for you! You know youâre not getting any younger and it doesnât help that youâre so shy, plus youâre picky, so all the time Iâm worried no one is good enough! So tell me about him!â Katyushka urged.
âWell, um, heâs â um, American, heâs a little younger than me. Heâs very lively. Please donât tell Tasha ââ Â Right, Tasha already knew, as they had established at the very beginning of the call. Talk about conditioned behavior. âHis name is Alfred. Do you remember the drunk man who paid our dinner in the Ladle? Thatâs the man.â
âI do!â Katuyshka squealed in exhilaration. âSo itâs thanks to me that you guys got together. You were so oblivious to his flirting that I had to give him some tipsâ, she giggled. âHe seemed like a fun guy.â
âHe isâ, Ivan agreed wholeheartedly. âHeâs the complete opposite of me. Heâs very social, for one.â
âI hope he doesnât drink as muchâ, Katyushka said, and although her tone wasnât accusatory at all, Ivan immediately felt guilty. She had known about his drinking problem almost from the start, but wasnât aware of how bad it had gotten in recent years.
âHe usually only takes a few beers every now and then. That night was a rare exceptionâ, Ivan assured her. The only other time Fredya had gotten shit-faced was when he had tried challenging Ivan â Fredya learned from his mistakes, even if he liked to pretend otherwise. He always gave off the air of not trying at all, but sometimes you could catch a glimpse of the truth - Fredya did nothing by half-measures, he always did his best because nothing else was good enough for him. Being his best self was so effortless to Fredya, watching him was a joy, no one else could have such spirit. There was a beauty to him â a sincerity. âHeâs â Katyushka, heâs amazing. Thank you.â
âVanechka⌠Oh my god, Iâve never heard you say that about anyone! Aww, thatâs so romantic! When are you bringing him to meet us?â
âUh â I donât think that would be a good idea. Tasha would get jealous.â
âCome on, you canât talk him up like that and then not let me talk to him! He still needs to get the familyâs approval! Ask him if heâs free this week, Iâll make time!â
She was so excited it would crush her if Ivan didnât comply. It was still a difficult decision to make - he knew Fredya liked him, but doubtfully to the extent of wanting to meet his family. It would heavily imply a wish for long-term attachment, and Fredya was not the type to settle down. He would run to the hills the second Ivan implied wanting to keep him for life. But Katyushka had asked â Ivan had to do it for her sake, Ivan owed her, and not only for being the catalyst for their relationship.
âAlrightâ, he finally said, and the answer was an overjoyed yippee that sounded wholly inappropriate from a 36-year old.
âLet me know when he can make it! Talk to you later!â
âWait, you donât need to hang up. Heâs here.â
With his heart thumping painfully, Ivan opened the bedroom door with shaking hands. Fredya was thankfully still concentrated on his idiotic movie so he didnât notice.
âUm, Fredya?â Ivan asked cautiously.
âYa?â he asked distractedly, popping a chip in his mouth, the crackle probably audible even through phone.
âKatyusha is on the phone. She has a request.â
âOh, should I leave?â
âNo, no, it actually has everything to do with you. She would like to meet you sometime this week.â
The reaction Fredya had to this invasion of intimacy was very far from the one Ivan had expected. Instead of being weirded out and declining outright, his face lit up in a smile wider than Ivan had ever seen on him.
âAre you serious! Of course Iâll meet her!â
He was so ecstatic that Ivan was sure he was not aware of the implications. He was afraid Fredya was running headfirst into something he thought was casual friendship. Even so, Ivan was afraid of stating clearly what meeting Katyushka was really about, because even suggesting meeting her implied Ivan wanted to tie Fredya down. He would not be opposed to it, if that was what Fredya wanted, but it would be very presumptuous of him to suggest it himself.
âShe seems to have a different idea of our relationship than we do, so please disregard whatever she might say about that.â
âChill, dude, I can handle girls. When?â
âVozlyublennaya sestra, pozhaluysta, ne govori nichego o svad'bakh ili detyakhâ, Ivan pleaded to the phone, and Katyushka promised she wouldnât. She had good intentions, but she wasnât very good at keeping herself in check, rest assured she would forget all about the promise when she saw Fredya in the flesh again.
Ivan put the phone on speaker so they could all weigh in. They eventually settled on Wednesday. Katyushka suggested gathering at Ivanâs house, but he was worried it would feel too domestic and final, and suggested a restaurant instead. He would of course pay for Katyushkaâs meal, he couldnât very well force her into paying herself when she was already behind on so many bills.
--
Vozlyublennaya sestra, pozhaluysta, ne govori nichego o svad'bakh ili detyakh.(ĐОСНŃĐąĐťĐľĐ˝Đ˝Đ°Ń ŃĐľŃŃŃа, пОМаНŃĐšŃŃа, но гОвОŃи ниŃогО Đž ŃвадŃĐąĐ°Ń Đ¸ĐťĐ¸ Đ´ĐľŃŃŃ .) : Beloved sister, please donât say anything about weddings or children.
Chapter name comes from ...ŃŃаŃŃŃŃ Đ˛ НиŃнОК МиСни by Alla Pugacheva.