Чувствую душой

HER

My eyes greedily stare at the window as Kiev zooms by. The city flies before me in a blur, as if the cabbie were driving over 100mph when he's not even pulling 60 in this freeway. A ray of light glares through the glass, blinding me for a split second. Stupid midday sun and its UV rays.

"I told you to bring sunglasses," Dad tuts beside me. "Did you listen? No. the summer hasn't even started, and you're already on your way to going blind!"

"Ha. Ha. Very funny, Dad," I retort as I sit back. "Pretty sure I'm old enough to know how to take care of myself."

"You may be an adult, but you're still my little girl."

I shoot him a weak smile and fish my phone out of my cotton candy Chloe Mini Faye backpack. I still can't believe Mom spent over a thousand dollars on that thing the day before Dad and I left. She said it was an early birthday present, but I know she bought it as an excuse to spoil me; she's missed being able to do that since I moved out last year.

As expected, I have zero notifications from anyone important. All of my friends are off doing amazing things this summer while Dad roped me into tagging along his business trip. I don't even know why I agreed to come in the first place—guilt, most likely.

I reach for my earphones, but Dad stops me from pulling them out of the bag. I eye him questioningly, and all he does is pat my shoulder like I'm five.

"You don't need that," he hints before saying something in Ukrainian to the cabbie.

The cabbie nods, then reaches for the radio dial. A familiar voice sweetly sings in a language I don't understand. Dad looks at me with a smirk. He knows exactly who this is because he's heard this song countless times thanks to me. This artist is probably why Dad wanted me to come.

"Not even a day in, and you're already hearing your boyfriend on the radio!" he teases.

"ALEKSEEV isn't my boyfriend, Dad." I grumpily clarify. "This is my favorite song, 'Чувствую душой.'"

"I know, I know! But what if you meet him? Should I be concerned?"

I toss my hair back and laugh it off. Yeah, like that'll ever happen. What are the chances of me running into the Nikita Alekseev while I'm here? I'm not getting my hopes up; I know that's definitely not going to happen. He's way too busy to wander around the city at his leisure and run into a random foreign girl like me. The only way we'd meet is if I attend his concert...if he tours here this summer, which he's not.

"No, Dad. Not at all. I'll never meet him, anyways. He won't be on tour while we're here. That's the only way I'd meet him."

Dad tuts and turns towards his window. As the song continues playing, I tap on the Instagram app and go to ALEKSEEV's page even though I know he hasn't posted anything today. I smile to myself as I scroll down the page, mindlessly looking at every picture or video until stumbling across the one of him in front of a bookshelf, smiling and holding a book.

I exit out of Instagram with a new idea in mind and Google "bookstores in Kiev." The first one that catches my eye on the list is one called Буква. Just from looking at the pictures, it looks like a nice little place, and apparently they carry books in Ukrainian, Russian, and English. Hmm...maybe Dad will be lenient and let the cabbie drop me off there.

'Hey Dad?" I ask as I continue reading about the store, my eyes still glued to the screen. "You think I could maybe be dropped off at a bookstore instead of heading to the house first? There's a really cute one in Khmel'nyts'kono Street and I kinda want to check it out. They have books in English and according to the reviews, everyone who works there is friendly, so I—"