Today Wednesday, June 26

Yekaterina Braginskya:

Hello? Ivan? I'm not sure if this is working

Ivan Braginski:

I'm here, you've got it. How is that new computer working, then?

Yekaterina Braginskya:

It works well I think.

Natalya is here also

Ivan Braginski:

Say hello to her for me.

How is the weather there, by the way?

Yekaterina Braginskya:

It's been nice so far, which probably means we're in for cold winter…

You?

Ivan took a moment to look out his window. The clouds were blindingly white, and it was completely overcast. But it wasn't raining, and the trees in the park across the street were undisturbed by wind.

Ivan Braginski:

It's nice today.

Yekaterina Braginskya:

How are you liking America?

(What part are you in again?)

Ivan Braginski:

I live in Seattle? That's in Washington

Yekaterina Braginskya:

That's near New York, right?

Wait, Natalya's pulling out map.

Ivan sighed.

Oh

That is not near New York.

Ivan Braginski:

Not really, no.

Listen, it's nearly time for me to go. It's been nice talking though. Keep in touch.

Yekaterina Braginskya:

Bye little brother!

Ivan Braginski has left the conversation

Ivan closed his laptop and slid it into his bag.

Less than four months since he had moved from Russia to the United States, and now he was employed and had his own apartment. And, as of yesterday, he had his very own library card. He had yet to really go to the downtown library, but he hoped it had a large foreign language section. He was a bit rusty on speaking English, and reading English was a headache.

Grabbing his coat, he slung it on and went out the door. He had work tonight, so if he was going to check out the library properly, he'd better get going now. He locked the door and went down the stairs.

Sirens sounded in the distance as he made his way briskly up the slope of downtown Seattle. The bright white clouds reflected painfully and he regretted not bringing his sunglasses. He settled for squinting as he passed the men sitting on the street corners, signaling his proximity to Pioneer Square.

So Ivan lived in the crumby part of the city. So he had a knife in the inside pocket of his coat, just in case. So he went without lunch nearly every day because money was so tight. He was in America, he had a green card, and what that meant to him was freedom. He was better off than his sisters were, regretfully having left them in Russia, and he was better off than his father or grandfather had been. He was in the land of opportunity and he wasn't complaining.

The wind was picking up and he could smell the Sound. Particularly fishy today. Up ahead he saw some religious protestors picketing the corners. He took out his ear buds and put them in his ears. He may not have an iPod or MP3 or anything to hook the ear buds up to, but they were sure effective with avoiding unwanted conversations.

Passing by whatever religious fanatic group that was today, he was only a block or two away from the library. The building was a huge mirrored wonder, right in the middle of upper Downtown. Ivan smiled as he walked across the last pedestrian crossing.

He held the door open for the woman behind him, who thanked him, surprised, before he entered.

"Wow…" It was a lot bigger than he expected, if he was honest.

"Would you like help finding anything?" asked a kindly looking librarian, who had watched Ivan's awestruck entrance with an amused smile.

"Er, d-yes. I would, thank you. Where would I be able to find…" he paused, "Russian books?"

The librarian's smile widened as she beckoned for Ivan to follow her. As he did, he couldn't help but stare around at all the books, all printed in English, on the shelves. He had gone to St. Petersburg libraries before, but never to actually check anything out. He always had work to do: he came to pick up Natalya whenever she had to go for class.

You see, Ivan didn't technically have a high school education, and neither did Yekaterina. Both of them had to leave school early to work on the family farm. Times were tough and money was tight and it was horrible, but now Ivan was in America, and he'd eventually be able to make enough money to send home to his sisters every now and then.

Now the librarian stopped and motioned down a long aisle, saying something about Ukrainian and Russian being at the end.

"Ukrainian and Russian… together?" Ivan asked, raising an eyebrow.

The librarian looked apologetic and mumbled something about a stupid intern the summer before.

Ivan thanked her and made his way to the section marked 'Pусский/Український' to find that sure enough, Ukrainian titles were mixed in among the Russian. It was kind of annoying, but Ivan shrugged it off in favor of sifting through and finding some interesting looking books.

Naturally there was plenty of Tolstoy and Dostoevsky. A glittery pink copy of Alisa v strane chudes, or Alice in Wonderland caught his eye, though he mourned the girly look of it. He had heard about this book from when Natalya was teaching Yekaterina to read better. Yekaterina loved fairy tales and bizarre stories. He might have to check this one out.

Ivan rolled his eyes at the sheer number of Bibles translations there were.

He decided on two more books: Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone and 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. These were two more books Natalya had read, so he figured they'd be good enough.

He was on his way to the checkout counter, going through the DIY and Self Help sections when it happened. A bright red in his peripheral had him turning his head down one of the aisles and.

"Bozhe moy," Ivan muttered, his eyes wide and his legs frozen to the spot.

He was short, with long black hair held back in a ponytail, and he looked to be Chinese. He was wearing a ridiculously bright red cardigan that did nothing to hide how skinny he was. He had a heavy-looking stack of books in his hands as he looked up at one of the high shelves, inching onto his tippy toes to reach that one last book.

And now he had it, and was turning toward Ivan, and Ivan had been staring. Snapping out of his trance, Ivan hurriedly turned the next corner, hoping the man hadn't caught him staring. He took a moment to collect himself before peaking back around the corner of the shelf to see where he had gone. At that same moment, though, it seemed that the man had decided to go around that corner, focusing mostly on balancing his gigantic stack of books in his arms.

They collided, and the man miraculously held onto all of his books, calling a quiet "Sorry!" behind him as he made his way to the checkout counter.

Ivan could only stand there dumbly. "Oh." Then he turned around quickly, thinking to catch him at the counters.

He was not at the counters.

He had dropped his books off at his apartment before walking to work that night. He was a bouncer at a nightclub, and while it wasn't his dream job it certainly paid the bills.

And by 'not his dream job' he meant it was a gay night club called 'Circe's Island' a few blocks away from the Space Needle. Which meant it got a lot of attention and lots of rowdy patrons. But the guys who worked there were pretty cool. Their bickering was entertaining, in the least.

"Hello Ivan!" Tino called as Ivan opened the side door. Tino was the bartender most nights, and obnoxiously social most nights, too. Berwald, one of his fellow bouncers, looked up from whatever he was doing on his barstool to nod at Ivan in greeting. Ivan liked Berwald, especially since they nearly never talked. And when things got rough with the rowdier groups, Berwald knew how to both receive and dish out a punch if need be.

Matthias was up on the stage, getting the DJ equipment all set up. Every once in a while it would happen that Alfred wouldn't be the DJ of the night, and Arthur wouldn't have bartending duties. Everyone knew nights like that only happened every so often when the stars aligned perfectly. Nights like that were universally known as Date Night, and everyone knew calling them in on nights such as this meant certain death.

Judging by Matthias and Tino's presence, it meant that the stars were aligned.

It also meant Arthur would be in a much better mood tomorrow.

That night, as he watched for trouble on the dance floor and in the bar area, Ivan couldn't keep his mind off that Chinese man he'd seen in the library. He refused to call him handsome, even in his private thoughts. No, not handsome. Ivan just couldn't think of the right word, thought it felt like it was on the tip of his tongue, and it made him feel very dumb.

Ivan had never felt as dumb as he did in the presence of that Chinese man's.