Mishka!
Мишка!
(Originally published on February 2013)
“Hey—still got more kvass?”
Vadim shook his head. Artem had just spent his third bottle of kvass, and he looked like a normal, nearly drunk human. Had Artem been not an android, the less-than-two-percents alcohol content in kvass wouldn’t make him look like that, but their machinery said something else. With that sort of condition, it seemed that the young man would have to stay at Vadim’s that night, although getting drunk on kvass sounded just plain nuts.
“Still have one, but that’s for Alisa when she comes over,” he coldly replied. “Plus, what for are you drinking that much? It won’t solve your problem, dude.”
Artem grimaced and threw himself on the sofa. Since Nadya’s appointment as presenter of Noteworthy, the new weekly music gazette on their TV station, they’d never had time to talk. Even on lunch breaks, Nadya would mostly buy sandwiches and spend her time in the department instead of meeting him at the canteen.
He understood that the concept of the show, also the demand to master the topic of the show she’ll be presenting—ranging from classical, jazz, traditional and folk, pop, rock, even electronic music—more or less had become a burden to Nadya. But, he was afraid he’d take the wrong way and make her angry.
“Well, yeah,” he whimpered weakly. “Fine then, Dedushka, I want your advice.”
“Damn—at least stop calling me ‘Dedushka’, won’t ye?” Vadim sighed, holding himself back from giving Artem a huge noogie. “Well, it’s not my area of specialty. I don’t know how to persuade her either. What if you try asking Alisa?”
Meanwhile, Alisa was making rough sketches for her costume designs while keeping Nadya company as she watched TV in Nadya’s flat. Between them was a half-empty pack of Mishka Kosolapy chocolate confection.
“Damn it,” Nadya cursed as she chewed her confection. “Is there nobody else fit for that show?”
“Well, there’s nothing wrong if you give it a try, Nadezhda Aleksandrovna.”
“Just Nadya, Alisa—until when are you going to call me like that? We’ve been friends for long enough, eh?” she blurted, her hands on the remote to change channels. “Moreover, aren’t they usually choosing only the camera-faced, competent people for presenter jobs?”
“Come on, Artem Yuryevich was chosen,” Alisa chuckled. Nadya’s laughter burst on hearing that line, almost spraying out the partially chewed chocolate in her mouth.
Alisa’s cell phone rang. Without having to look at the blinking name on the screen, she knew who was calling from that ringtone: Vadim. She went out for a while and answered the phone in the kitchen.
“Dima? What’s up?”
“Artyosha’s here, and he thinks his relationship with Nadya is not going smoothly, but... well, you know, Dear.”
“So?”
“He said he wouldn’t stand it anymore if they go on like that any longer. Any idea?”
Alisa leaned her body onto the kitchen wall. Her eyes caught the Mishka Kosolapy wrapper, four bears printed on it, on her left hand—which she hadn’t been letting go of. While throwing the used wrapper into the trash can at the corner, she smiled meaningfully.
“Sure. Tell Artem Yuryevich...”
Vadim listened to Alisa, holding a pen and facing a piece of paper on his kitchen table. Half-rushed, he scribbled Mishka Kosolapy when Alisa mentioned that brand of chocolate.
“Okay then, spasibo. Later—lyublyu tebya.”
“Lyublyu tebya, Dima.”
Vadim hanged up and slipped the piece of paper with Mishka Kosolapy scribbling into sleeping Artem’s clenched hands, and then he walked into his own bedroom.
# # #
Artem examined the paper he found in his hands earlier that day while he waited for the make-up assistants in the dressing room. The writing was a little bit messy, but still clear enough to read: Mishka Kosolapy.
“Privet, Artyosha!”
Sasha cheerfully greeted and walked in with her small briefcase full of cosmetics and make-up equipments. “What’s that?”
Artem couldn’t hide the piece of paper anymore. He gave in when Sasha glanced at the piece of paper and read whatever was on it.
“Mishka Kosolapy? Oh—that legendary chocolate! It’s sweet and delicious, really, but it simply ruins every woman’s diet program. One is never, ever enough,” she mumbled.
What? Diet program? Guess that wouldn’t be a problem for Nadya, Artem thought. Moreover she needs it more as a stress relief.
“What’s with Mishka Kosolapy?”
“Eh, a friend asked me to buy a pack after I’m done with work... for his niece,” Artem made up a reason as fast as he could. Sasha only smiled and started doing her job.
“Hey, Sashenka!”
Nadya’s voice alarmed Artem to quickly hide the paper in his pants’ pocket. Then, within moments, Nadya appeared by the door.
“Oh, privet, Nadya! Ready to record your new show’s teaser?”
Nadya only bitterly laughed as she buttoned up her grey blazer and sat next to Artem. She kept her eyes on the script for said teaser until Sasha finished doing the make-up. Artem himself remained silent, afraid he’d say something wrong, and only stared at their reflections on the mirror. He realized the snowflake pendant he gave on the New Year’s Eve was still dangling around Nadya’s neck. At moments, the snowflake glinted with the light from the vanity table.
Probably Vadim was right.
He intended to ask Nadya to get home together after work, but he changed his mind. He had a new plan.
“Artem Yuryevich, ready? We’re on in five minutes!”
“Okay!”
Artem stood to tidy up his shirt, and gave Nadya’s shoulder a gentle pat before walking out of the dressing room. Nadya turned, but she only smiled without saying a word before getting back to her script.
Immediately the opening music for On Stage played. Sasha closed the door and prepared the equipments she would need to get Nadya ready.
“Artyosha is so confident,” Sasha giggled as she started applying foundation cream on Nadya’s face. Nadya winced, throwing her script on the vanity table.
“Isn’t he always like that?”
“Oh, you,” Sasha laughed, but the laughter didn’t last long for her eyes caught something shiny behind Nadya’s shirt collar.
“Hey, nice necklace. Where did you buy it?”
“This?” Nadya pulled the pendant and stared at it intently. “I didn't. Artyosha gave me.”
“How romantic,” Sasha teased, reaching for blush-on from her cosmetic box.
“Sasha,” Nadya’s face turned red, but her hands weren’t off the snowflake pendant—Sasha needed to duck a little so she could apply blush-on and lip gloss on her. It was like she could feel Artem lightly patting on her shoulder before leaving for the studio again. She did feel they hadn’t talked and spent time together for a while.
Maybe, after this godforsaken teaser’s done...?
Nadya smiled to herself and let the pendant slip off her fingers. A cameraperson appeared by the other door of the dressing room leading to the studio next to one used for On Stage.
“Nadezhda Aleksandrovna? Are you ready?”
Nadya nodded. Sasha finished her job and gave Nadya a light pat before the young lady got up from her seat.
“Good luck, Nadya!”
She entered the all-white studio where the recording for Noteworthy’s teaser would be held. She really wished not to make mistakes and retake the same old scene over and over. She closed her eyes for a few seconds until the mark, “Camera, rolling... action!”
Nadya didn’t take her eyes off the camera at all. Her voice sounded strong and left an impression of dignity as she presented a few headlines for the first broadcast of Noteworthy, starting from several prestigious vocal competitions recently held, up to the indie band festival at St. Petersburg.
“All on the first edition of Noteworthy. I’m Nadezhda Morozova, and see you!”
“Cut! Okay, we’re done!”
Nadya smiled and shook hands with several colleagues who congratulated her for her new show once more, all while giving her instructions to some other production staffs. Afterwards, she headed straight to the editing room with Olga and Mikhail, where she controlled the process until they finally finished the teaser at nine o’clock.
Artyosha must have been home since this afternoon.
Nadya sighed as she put her favorite thin sweater back on by the lockers. She grabbed her cell phone from her bag, ready to type a new message with Artem’s number in the recipient field, only to discard the message again. She put her earphones on and chased the next metro from the station within proximity of the TV station building where she worked, accompanied only by music playing from her phone.
The early spring night still felt like winter to Nadya. The roads were still jammed, the air was just as cold, and snow still fell once in a while, although it no longer piled up into some thick white lump by the sidewalks. Along her trip, she only found some warmth in the station, while passing by several buildings with open doors, and by Lyubov Ivanovna’s bakery.
The day felt so long, to the extent that she just wanted to tuck in as soon as she reached her apartment. Usually she would still be up watching movies on TV until late at night. She was just switching her shoes with a pair of bunny slippers and put her bag on the sofa when the bell rang. Without asking who was there anymore, she dashed to the door and peeked through the small lens to see who was there.
She saw nobody—only a grocery bag left in front of the door. A card was taped to its handle, on its surface was inscribed “For Nadya”.
Carefully she opened the door and peeked into the bag. She was petrified. The bag was full with her favorite Mishka Kosolapy chocolates in all variants, bars and confections. Her curiosity peaked. She pulled out the taped card, opened it, and read what was inside.
Nadya, honestly, I miss you. I understand you’re busy lately, but... uh, sorry if I sound selfish, but I really need to talk to you. Lots.
Lyublyu tebya—you know it.
Artyosha.
She was stunned.
Artyosha—he’s not too far off here yet!
She slammed the door closed and ran through the corridors. By the elevator, nobody was there. She jumped and quickly pushed the button with a reversed triangle, hoping the doors would soon open again. Thirty seconds, and the lift opened, revealing nobody inside. She was starting to give up, but she went in anyway and pushed the button numbered 1.
Or... that far off?
The doors opened again, and she reached the lobby. Only the receptionist, security officers, and several other apartment residents she doesn’t recognize were seen.
She ran again, this time out from the apartment building. This time, her eyes caught the sight of a tall young man with short black hair and a familiar grey coat. She wasn’t half sure, but when the young man stopped for a while by the street lights and glanced at the huge digital clock mounted next to a billboard on the other building across the road, she could see his face.
“Artem Yuryevich!”
The young man, looking surprised, turned to see whoever called him out loud. He was really Artem, and looking at Nadya standing out in the snow with bunny slippers and the grocery bag he left earlier, he approached.
“Nadya? What are you doing with those bunny slippers? It’s cold out here.”
Instead of answering right away, she ran into Artem and hugged him.
“You want to talk? We talk now,” she faintly said, not yet letting go of her hug.
Soon enough, they were back at Nadya’s apartment, sitting next to each other on the sofa at the living room. The TV, showing reruns of indie bands’ live concerts were only functioning as a source for background music. The wet bunny slippers, back home from the lightly snowy roadside, looked as if they were warming themselves up by the heater.
“Artyosha, sorry I didn’t have time for you these days.”
“No, no problem,” Artem cut and pulled Nadya closer into his embrace. “You feel better now?” “Think so. Moreover, at least that damn show’s teaser is finished now,” she answered as her hands reached for a bar of Mishka Kosolapy from the pile of chocolates wrapped in paper with bears over it.
“Plus, who wouldn’t feel better with chocolate as good as Mishka?”
They laughed. With every piece of blue wrapping paper with four bears opened, their conversation moved further away from where they started. They didn’t mull over the initial problem anymore. They just kept changing topics, starting from whatever is happening in their department, the skating rink at GUM which would close in three days, the Japanese restaurant just opened near the metro station close by their office, up to the development of N-1a project androids at their ‘birthplace’.
“So, any news on N-1a?”
“The progress is slow. Well, N-1 and all variants were five years away from M-1’s withdrawal. Moreover, N-1a isn’t an adult type. At least that was what I heard from Dedushka,” Artem giggled.
“Had Vadim been here, he’d give you a dope slap.”
They laughed again. Two bars of chocolate left on the table, amidst the pile of blue paper with bears, were soon grabbed off by two different hands.
“Hey, Nadya, by the way... this May, there will be an international concourse for choirs in Kazan, right?”
“Uh-huh,” Nadya shortly answered while still chewing her chocolate. “So what? Are you going to report on it?”
“Yeah,” Artem’s face slowly faded to red. “Besides... I want to see your parents.”
Startled, Nadya looked at him. Artem smiled meaningfully.
“Hey, I mean, we have to prepare for things early on, right?”
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