Hello, Privet! #1: Hello/Привет

Chapter 6

KIRILL

Yesterday we were in New York, now we are flying over the Atlantic Ocean on a plane going to Paris. After practice, Anton and I had to run to get to the plane because we have to attend a party for Anais. Anais—she is a model. She is one of the girls for Guerlain; she is also in the Dolce and Gabbana ads in all the magazines and billboards and the TV commercials. I do not remember what else she did before, except that now, she says she is going to become an actress and the party is to celebrate her last show for this famous designer.

John introduced Anais to Anton at one of those parties where all the beautiful and important people go and he planned that Anton will go with her to many events. John wanted them to go out, to 'hang out,' so Anton did what he was told to do. The Press would ask us if they are dating, and then Anton's mother and father, they call me to ask me to tell me the truth. But I don't know what's going on. Anton doesn't tell me anything about what he feels about this girl, but maybe they are dating. Otherwise, why are we going to see this girl in Paris now?

Warren Hayes, one of the sports agents from John's office, is here with us to make sure we do not get into trouble. John doesn't want what happened in Hamburg to happen again.

"The media training's a good idea, Anton. This is pretty standard for actors and musicians when they promote their latest projects."

"I do this again?"

"Well, the previous training you had didn't take."

"You want me to talk like another person," says Anton.

"No—" Warren coughs. "I mean, you have to be yourself too, Anton, but you have to know what to say and what not to say."

"Fine. Whatever."

"When we get back, you have that Letterman interview. You're going to talk about your ten years in tennis, from age sixteen and now at age twenty-six."

"Now that I'm rank eighty-seven," he says, the expression on his face darkening.

I feel sorry for Antosha. This is hard for someone like him who was number one.

"And while you're in Paris, how about you attend some parties? Bring Anais. Armani wants you to wear some of their suits. Four will be sent to your hotel room tomorrow. And what do you think about their proposal?"

"I am not wearing underpants in the television again."

I give him the sheaf of papers, roll down the window and light a cigarette.

"We'll renegotiate," Warren says quickly. "I'm sure Mr. Donaldson and Mr. Biscaglia will be able to arrive at a mutually−"

"I told you. No. Nyet. How many times do I say it?" Anton growls. "Not after Calvin Klein."

I whistle. I am familiar with those Calvin Klein ads. Tsk, tsk.

"Okay, okay. That was—an unfortunate decision. I mean, none of us had any idea they'd be plastering an image of your crotch all over Manhattan."

I start laughing, but Anton glares at me.

"No," he says.

"But this deal is a lot of money, Anton. And Denise Dietz is going to be in it with you."

"Denise Dietz. Whoa." Denise Dietz is a Sports Illustrated model, not the skinny type. She reminds me of the girl who married Hugh Hefner. She looks very nice in a swimsuit and that is all I am saying about her.