Kira Modest

Chapter 25

Returning home, I was very angry at Andrey and sometimes at myself. Right now, I don't even want to see him because of his lousy behavior. He didn't even try to talk to me and figure things out. He asked once and, not getting a clear answer, pretended like he didn't care. He didn't want to find out and try to understand me. And what about that joke of his, 'I'll have to kill you'? What's he up to? I'm sure it's nothing criminal. Just a way to scare me off from meddling in his life? Of course. As if he'd ever let me into his life! 
And then there's this Dima! Did it really get easier for him after what he said!? I'm beyond furious with him! I'm just overflowing with anger! Everything about this situation makes me wildly angry! And I myself am far from last place.
I'm just afraid...afraid that Andrey will disappear, and I'll be left feeling awful. I've always had this fear since childhood, when my dad would leave me and go away. He rejected me every time and chose work instead. I always felt like he was fine and happy without me. And I tried to find a replacement for him in my brother, in boyfriends, but they were never enough like my dad. 
"Hi, sweetie." It came after just one ring. "It's so good that you called. Mom and I are sitting here watching our favorite TV show."
The one we always finished watching just the two of us because he was away on business.
"Hi. Which episode are you watching?"
Unable to get his attention and love, I completely distanced myself from him. I wanted to become the complete opposite. I thought the best solution was to grow up quickly and solve everything on my own. I thought that I would meet in adult life a man who would finally love me and always be there for me.

"Oh, Nila, which episode is this?" He asked mom, continuing to talk on the phone. "The one where they went to the sea to visit their granddaughter at camp. Remember how they hilariously competed over who would pick her up for the weekend?" Dad laughs and doesn't remember that it's the very first episode of the fourth season. 
I've seen this series a thousand times and know it by heart, while he watched it intermittently.
"Yes, dad, I remember."
The kinship connection with him is excessively strong. It doesn't allow me to forget him and not think about him. I blame myself for getting offended at him and leaving with a scandal. I never tried to talk and understand his actions. I categorically believed that things should be done differently, but I never took into account his personal feelings, desires, life circumstances, and character traits. 
"How are you doing? What about your personal life?" This is my dad's favorite question and desire to marry me off. 
Although we weren't demonstratively close, I could always tell him about my suitors. Or rather, I wanted to tell him. In those moments, closeness to him gave me a sense of genuine paternal attention.
"Well, there's this one man..."
"A man!?" My dad interrupted me. How old is he if he's already a man?
"Thirty three."
"Kira, he's very mature. It's too early for you to associate with such men."
"It's not too early at all! Besides, I'm not interested in guys of my age."
"And what does he do for a living? He's probably married!?"
And what shall I tell him? I don't have an answer to any of his questions!
"Seems like he's in business..."
"What kind!?" My father interrupted me again.
"I don't know! He doesn't say."
"You've gotten yourself into something again! Give me his details, I'll check him out."
Dad is as usual! He wants to check everything! Roma took it from him...
But I have to admit, I'm not against it this time. I'm burning with desire to find out something about Andrey. What if he's already married!? For that information, I'm ready to overlook my grudges against dad and start talking to him more. 
"I only have his phone number and his car's plate number."
"What about his full name?"
"I only know his first name."
"Well, Kira, I'm not surprised!"
I'm doing my best not to explode and hang up. Again, he hints at my irresponsibility and stupidity. 
"I'll send you all the numbers by text."

University. Sometimes I forget what he looks like.
"Oh, Kira! What an unexpected surprise!" Arthur is cheerful as always. "What did this rare student forget here? Did you decide to find out if they're kicking you out?"
"Hi, Arthur, and I'm glad to see you too. But I'm actually worried about that!"
"And you're right to be, because you're close to losing your scholarship."
"Close?!" I ask, alarmed.
"You can find out from the curator." He waves his hands.
"I'm afraid to go to her. I think she'll send me away with my attendance record."
"Maybe you'll start studying?" He raises his eyebrows and looks stubbornly at me.
Last time Andrey appeared after two weeks. So he should be writing soon. I've already figured out what I'll say to him and...
"Kira! Are you listening to me!?" Arthur abruptly interrupted my thoughts.
"Ah! Yes, I'll start studying. I'm already studying!"
"I'm already studying, and you've forgotten your way here. How are you doing anyway? How's your significant other?"
I look at him from under my brow, afraid to hear: 'I told you so'. Arthur won't justify his actions like I do. He'll speak factually and most likely be right.
"He didn't disappear after the first sex, as you said."
"Wow! This is already not bad!"
I wonder when my dad will find out anything and tell me!? Maybe this information will help me get closer to him? I have no idea how yet, but it should definitely get easier for me!
"And how's your communication going now?" Arthur interrupted my thoughts again.
"Unclear. He rarely writes. We haven't seen each other for a long time, and the last time ended on a bad note. I'm worried it might be the end."
"Even if it's not the end, there definitely won't be any relationship from this. Just forget about him and live peacefully! Why are you bothering!?"
"There will be! I won't let him go." I respond indignantly to his words.
Three weeks later, still no sight or sound of Andrey. Arthur is wrong! No! I can't live without this person; he's entwined in every strand of my hair, embedded inside me, impossible to drive out. Can't I just write to him myself? There's nothing criminal about it, right? Yes! I'll just ask: 'How are you?', and everything will be clear from there.
'Hey. I miss you)' 04:05 PM
Damn...my fingers typed that on their own, I had nothing to do with it. 
'Hey, call me if you can.' 04:06 PM
Andrey!? I thought, looking at the text message first, and then at the sender. Dad... 
"Hi." I called immediately.
"Hi. I found out about your guy."
"Well, and...? What's up?" With caution and a little embarrassment, I'm dying to find out the information. 
"Andrey Valentinovich Tkachenko. Born on the twenty-fourth of November, nineteen eighty-seven! The car is registered under Tkachenko Neonila Dmitrievna." Dad responds, clearly displeased.
"And did you get the birth date correct? Definitely the twenty-fourth of November?" 
"Correct! Kira..."
"Is that all you found out!?" I interrupt. 
Is that really it!? I already know the car isn't under his name. It's predictably under mom's name. 
"Do you know that when someone registers property under someone else's name, it means they're afraid of something!? It means something's not right or smooth there!?"
"Did you find out what he does for a living!? And is he married or not!?" 
"I haven't checked..."
"Didn't you get to know it!?" I'll interrupt again. 
This is catastrophically little information!
"Kira! You shouldn't be interacting to this person!"
Oh! If I were interacting to him! 
"Why!? What did you find out that you can't tell!?" I pushed aside all the awkwardness and embarrassment in talking to dad and suspect he didn't reveal everything!
"I didn't find out anything like that. You just have a big age difference. This is not normal!"
What excuses!? Knowing dad, he's definitely hiding the truth. But what's there!?
"Are you sure you told everything? Please don't lie to me." I'm gently and patiently trying to get to the truth.
"Absolutely. Kira, decline him politely. If he invites you somewhere, say you're busy with studying, can't manage anything else. The main thing is not to quarrel with him." "Sounds too suspicious." 
Dad lies in the same manner as I do.
"I'm not communicating with him right now, you can rest assured." I reply discontentedly.
I can't rumble him. Another attempt to find out about Andrey has failed. I know his full name and that's it. His last name is, of course, usual. I'm even slightly disappointed. It will be a pity to change mine name to his. 
"Be careful with him and gently reduce communication to zero." Father asks with a kind, gentle voice, which only increases my distrust towards him: "I don't know anything else. I just don't like the big age difference between you two."
"Okay. Goodbye, dad." I reply and hang up.
I don't want to argue with him and clash heads again in our loving conflicts.
Drilling my gaze through the window yields no ideas. If before I simply had an interest in Andrey's life and field of activity, now, thanks to dad, I have a blister that desperately urges me to find out everything myself. But how? And, most importantly, why? Isn't it easier to just let go and forget him? After all, there are so many worthy men around me. The problem is that I stopped seeing men as men after meeting Andrey. Even in my father I just see dad. It's not so much Andrey's actions and behavior that speak of his masculinity, but the energy emanating from him. It's special and inexplicable. I can't understand completely what draws me to him so much.
A text message sound on the phone. Andrey!? I shuffle towards the screen in the hope of seeing the coveted AV. 
Alla Vladimirovna scheduled a general meeting with the club managers.
And once again, it's not him... I flinch towards the phone with hope every time a text message arrives. And every time, I see that my 'Hi. I missed you.)' remains shamelessly unread! 

We, all the girls, are sitting on sofas in the pocket of the hall with a pole in the center. Administrators and Mikhail are in chairs opposite us. And another manager...what's her name?
"What's her name?" I whisper to Mary.
"Yulia Vladimirovna." She answers quietly, glancing at the bosses.
I wonder what we're gathered here for. I couldn't even imagine that such establishments have the same kind of meetings as any other workplace.
While she was giving, in my opinion, an unnecessary introductory speech, I was looking at the girls. They all look like guilty schoolgirls being reprimanded for smoking behind the school. By the way, they don't look much different. I'm used to seeing them in full makeup and with lush curls, but now most of them are without makeup and barely combed. When you apply evening makeup every night, cosmetics become annoying, and you don't feel like putting on makeup in everyday life. This is something I've noticed about myself. 
"Do you think we don't figure out who isn't bringing the money to the cashier and hides it in their shoes!?" She looks at everyone from under her brow. "Where you studied, we taught." With all her demeanor, she tries to belittle and intimidate the girls.
What a vulgar and ancient phrase. A woman in her forties in a business suit and heels but behaving like a gangster from the nineties. A real tough 'Mama'. Ugh...it's disgusting to watch. The girls sit quietly and hardly look at her. I suppress my disgust and observe Mikhail's reaction. 
"Or have you never been taken to the woods and had your fingers broken!?" Yulia Vladimirovna raised her voice.
Oh God! I thought these phrases were forgotten even before I was born! But no! Apparently, they're still alive! According to her version, are we supposed to be scared?... Personally, I just want to throw up on the couch from her presence, and then ask which local authority bit her in her youth and why she hasn't been eradicated in all these years?
"Girls, no one wants to hurt you here. We give you the opportunity to earn, and we just want you to be honest with us." Mikhail said this very restrained and calmly. 
Why does this young man behave more politely with strippers than the grown woman? Where does she get such anger towards us?
"Margo was fired, and anyone who tries to do the same will follow her. And from now on, twenty percent of your tips will go to the club. Security will check for tips at the entrance, upon return from a out-of-club meetings." Miss authoritative gangster Yulia Vladimirovna continued.
"Unbelievable..." Mary muttered under her breath.
"And what did Margo do?" I whisper quietly to Mary's ear.
"She took money from private dances and hid it in her panties, then sneaked it into the dressing room past the cashier. Got caught on camera."
"You should take an example from Milana. Yes, she came here to work, well, the girl had some life circumstances. But how light and feminine she was!" She extols her as if she were some kind of deity. "And what about you!? You sleep on that couch half the shift, and then you go out to the guests all sleepy! Not everyone can be bought out like Milana. You still have a long way to go to be like her!" And again, she tries to belittle us.

Andrey. I feel like I'm starting to forget what he looks like. It's been a week, and my text message is still in the ignore section. For the sake of decency, he could at least reply! I have his full name...and information on whose name the car is registered. Useless information to the core! I dream of seeing him, even just catching a glimpse. But I don't even have a photo of him! Only a fixed image in my mind, facial features, and those soft curly locks with that ever-rebellious little strand sticking out at the front of his forehead... I want his photo... I want to look at him to delight my eyes and warm my soul. But where will I get it? I've already browsed through all the social networks with the name of Andrey and there's nothing anywhere. Surely, he doesn't use this wonderful way to showcase his life. And my father surely knows something important! Something that's not in his favor. Something that wouldn't be beneficial for him to bring into our family. I feel his lies in every fiber of my being. He's had a couple of candidates for my husband's role in our city for a long time, and he'll do everything to ensure some Andrey doesn't take their place.
I don't want to go home, I don't want to talk to anyone, I don't want to see anyone...except him. But that's impossible... Damn! Damn! Damn! I am torn apart inside by tiny shreds because I can't influence this! I want to scream out of despair and beg someone to give me the opportunity to see him! I'm going crazy! I'm slowly but surely going crazy! I want to speed up to two hundred kilometers per hour and crash into a wall to drown out that unbearable pain! What a crap this 'love' is... What it's capable of doing to a person? Do I even have it? I've never loved. But what else to call what's happening to me if not love? 
Maybe I'll go for a walk now and accidentally meet him? What will I say to him? I'm tired of driving on the roads, walking on the streets, and paying attention to every passing white Maserati or Tesla! And then scrutinizing the license plates to see if it's him driving or not! I'm tired of thinking about him! Just sitting calmly, drinking coffee or eating a sandwich, and suddenly realizing that I've been having a conversation with him in my head for ten minutes already. A simple meaningless conversation or sometimes a heated argument, and there you are already laughing at a silly joke. He's like an unexpected toothache. Only this toothache is pleasant. It's like a warm childhood memory. Like a soft fluffy blanket on a lazy weekend day, in the embrace of which you can lie as much as you want. You live peacefully, go about your business, and then it hits you suddenly! That's it! You don't even remember what you were thinking about before! You've completely forgotten what was in your head before this annoying piercing pain! Now, it occupies absolutely all the space, leaving no room for other thoughts. You feel like getting drunk as hell. To drown out the taste of memories with the strong taste of alcohol.
I walk into the first bar that crosses my path.
"A shot of whiskey, a separate glass for the cola, and a separate one for the ice, please."
I hope the waiter brings everything as I ordered. It couldn't be simpler to order, but for some reason, waiters forget to bring me a separate glass for the cola half the time! This is unreal annoying!
The bar is packed. I sat at the last free table in the corner of the room. If I had the opportunity, I would hide behind one of the large vases scattered around here. They didn't skimp on plants. While waiting, I look around. Maybe he's sitting at one of the tables? Ugh... I throw away that thought and don't allow it to develop. I'm already nauseous with myself, I want to hit myself in the head with something heavy. Although that's unlikely to help. It seems like nothing will help me no matter what I do! Two girls are sitting two meters away from me. They're drinking white wine and having a casual conversation. One is wrapped in a blanket, with legs resting on a soft pouf. The girls feel at home. You can really relax here, take off your shoes, and climb onto this couch with your feet up. Which is what I do. 
On the horizon, I notice the waiter and inspect his tray. Well... I'm not even surprised. Ice is served separately, but an empty glass is missing. 
"And another glass for the cola," I say flatly as he sets everything on the table.
"Yes, of course, I remember," he replies, without a hint of recognition.
Of course, you remember! That's why you decided to make another round across the room. There's whiskey on the table, which I can't drink yet. It's like having a dish you can't eat yet because they forgot to bring utensils, and you're sitting there hungry, looking at the food, barely restraining yourself from grabbing it with your bare hands. 
The empty glass sits there, tempting me to shift my attention from Andrey to the burning taste of the same addictive substance. Hm... interesting, what could be worse? Being addicted to alcohol or to a person? What if it's both at the same time? I freeze, bringing the glass to my lips...oh, how terrible...it's better to just be addicted to alcohol! I take a big sip and forget about everything for a moment. The cola helps prevent me from spitting it all back out and regaining my composure. I feel my body sway slightly. 
Why is this room so green? It definitely lacks variety in the form of other colors. Ah-h! Flowers...how lovely were the flowers that Andrey brought. And how beautifully they were complemented and securely tied with a white satin bow! I urgently need to gaze at those flowers! But first, I need to finish my drink.
"Can I have the same drink again?" I quietly call the waiter, and he quickly brings my order.
I find those photos in the gallery, and a sweet smile exposes my white teeth. I don't see anything around, I'm staring at my phone screen, and it seems from the side as I look like an idiot! Such bright raspberry buds. They look advantageous against the backdrop of the salon in the car. How I've missed fast driving with him. The display lights up with the name of a song unfamiliar to me. During those moments, I didn't notice the music in the background. I zoom in on the photo in different places to examine the buds. Many of them are not fully open, and they never opened during the entire time they were in my apartment. They just fell off and dried out. I had to throw them away very quickly. 
And what's this? I zoom in on the photo closer. In the background, there is some business card lying around. Even though I'm drunk, I think clearly. I clearly see a white cardboard with blue and light blue writing that says ExplosionUkrTech LLC, and blurry words and a phone number at the bottom in small font. Nothing is legible. Only the headline is readable. Have I found a lead? I enter the name in Google, and it shows me websites of various companies, many of them similar. I open the very first one where the wording is identical to what's on the business card. The image on my screen in the background immediately explodes, and a huge brick building of an unclear shape collapses to the ground and crumbles into pieces. Half of the video is covered by the following text: 'ExplosionUkrTech LLC — Conducting explosive and drilling operations in seismic exploration. Explosive operations in gas, water, and oil wells.' I scroll down... International explosive company ExplosionUkrTech... The main value of the company is speed... Thousands of transactions and 14 years of experience have made us strong in our field... We provide a full range of services... Why trust ExplosionUkrTech?... Leave a request... ExplosionUkrTech in numbers... 200+ employees... 100,000 clients... 5 continents... 14 years of successful work... Blog... All news... ExplosionUkrTech. Here it's simple. Convenient. Humanly... ExplosionUkrTech team...
Photos of employee at the bottoms. I scroll through, scrutinizing each one. He's not there... But why would he be? Maybe it's just a random business card, and he has nothing to do with it. My fingers won't let me stop browsing the site. The Contacts section. Five countries with addresses and all contact details of offices. There are offices in five different countries. Wow... 
Unconsciously, I've read this website from cover to cover. I go back. I visit a site where all contact, legal, and general information about the company, products, and services is provided only dryly, without any pictures. Status. Year of establishment. Organizational form. Our products and services. Authorized capital. Number of employees in the office. Number of employees in the company. Compass ID. Registration No. Servicing banks. 
I scroll to the very bottom. There's a strange excitement and chaos inside. I scrutinize every word carefully, fearing to miss anything important. It seems I've never been such attentive even when signing documents. I reach the section 'Management of ExplosionUkrTech LLC (ExplosionUkrTech) Download the list of executives. I scan the screen like a frantic, frightened animal, clicking on each one in turn. Could I recognize what is he? What if I see his name? What if it's really him? And if I finally learn what I've been dreaming of for so long? All these thoughts rush through my mind as I click on this line. Andrey Tkachenko, General Director. Andrey Valentinovich Tkachenko, General Director. 
...
General Director... General... Owner? Is he the owner of this company? 
Everything is swimming before my eyes. And no. It's not because of alcohol.
I continue to doubt as I study all the websites mentioning the company or his name. Maybe I was mistaken, and it's just someone with the same last name? I'm tossed on this couch, my whole body pulsating with excitement. I can't believe such information can be found on the Internet. On each website, I jump from link to link, my eyes darting in all directions, afraid to miss anything. I'm redirected to the same pages, which I've probably read better than the authors themselves. I can't see what I'm clicking on anymore, clarity slipping away from me. I've scrolled through the social networks with his first name, but I've never entered his full name into Google. The first site that pops up is Open Databases, followed by several similar ones that don't provide exact information. I scroll down further and see Facebook, but there's nothing there. Even lower, I find some unfamiliar social network with his name and the company's name separated by a hyphen. Automatically, just to check everything, I click there. The site loads, and...everything inside me flips just like it does when I see him in person... Did I catch blue devils of whiskey drinks or is this real? I'm engulfed in heat, and my heart is pounding at its limit...I found him...I found his photo... Is it really him? It's unbelievable how handsome he looks here! This is his page! His very own page! His name! His photo! And...next to it, it says CEO & Founder of ExplosionUkrTech. What does this mean? Did I understand everything correctly? Why did I even bother asking dad to find out something when I can do it all myself!?
I've been dreaming of having his photo for so long! And now, I'll be able to look at Andrey as much as I want! Hah! Maybe I'm crazy! Let it be so! Let my crazy eye indulge in this photo! He's in a white shirt. It fits him better than on top models! On top, there's a dark blue suit vest. I never thought Andrey liked such things. And he seems to look magnificent whatever he wears. The angle is in a half-turn. Are his curls naturally so beautifully arranged or does he put effort into it? Thick stubble and a light, restrained smile. He was photographed from the side in action, listening to someone.  
Can it be that I managed to find out everything using such a simple and accessible method? I can hardly believe it... Everything? Now I know what I wanted? What's next? It didn't get easier. It got worse. Now my already high admiration for him has skyrocketed even higher. How can he have such a company at the age of thirty-three? How in the world did he even create it?! And why did I only find out about this now!? Oh, I'm going completely insane over this man! Oh my God! Please, hide me somewhere! I want to evaporate! Melt away and dry up! My head is supported by a soft wall. Or...did I drink too much, and it just seems soft to me? I turn my head towards it and...holy moly... Why a cute little green 
preserved moss is on this wall!? Couldn't they come up with a different design?! How did I not notice this moss right away!? I've been sitting here for three hours leaning against this wall and haven't notice it? Oh yes! My attention to detail! Apparently, it only kicks in when I want to dig up something about the person I...love? Oh... It's a terribly complex question! I can't bear to see anything else that reminds me of him! I just want to take a piece of this plant off the wall. I can barely contain my anger. 
"Your design sucks! Change it!" I mutter to the innocent waiter on my way out.