The city was lit up by thousands of lights. Busy streets were crowded by hundreds of cars. Taillights shone brilliant red through the darkness as Sergei pulled onto the main road. He hit the turn signal and waited for an opening, pulling in when he was able. Sergei mumbled under his breath, shaking his head as someone honked their horn. He glared, but didn't retaliate.
"What time is it?" Sergei asked, turning for a moment to glance at Piotr, who sat in the passenger side.
Piotr pulled his phone from his back pocket. "Six." He touched the screen, dragging the message box down and staring blankly. He didn't recognize the number, and none of the people he talked to - certainly no one he worked with, would speak like that.
'Sorry for bothering. You're awesome.'
'Who is this' he replied, his focus now on the phone.
Sergei coughed to get his coworker's attention. "What?"
Piotr hummed, his only response.
'Fans, you know? '
'What?'
He looked up at Sergei, "Strange texts," he finally replied.
"Vladimir? Anatoly?" Generally, they called. Texts were almost always from Semyon, or one of the others.
The phone vibrated again. 'you're the best!'
'Thanks' He looked out the window, briefly shaking his head.
The phone vibrated yet again. 'Yay! '
"Who is it?" Sergei grumbled.
'How did you get my number '
"Don't know." Piotr shot Sergei a sideways glance.
'The internet. Look yourself up. Thanks for answer. Means a lot'
The internet? He frowned, leaning his elbow against the door and turning off the phone's screen. He'd have to find it. He had to take his number down. Not only his number, but his info. How had they known his name to look it up in the first place?
One last time, the cell vibrated. 'you made the week awesome!'