My dear comrades in Comrade
Haha, look who's back! Sorry for the minor hiatus – usual excuses, I won't bore you but we are nearly there! Hazah! :P As usual a MASSIVE THANK YOU to all who have reviewed, favourited, followed and, frankly, read this story – I am so immensely grateful :)
As ever, a HUGE shout out to my glorious beta SarahBelikova who has so kindly looked over this chapter – thank you, thank you, thank you :D
Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Academy or anything surrounding it (but I do own this plot :D)
DPOV
You have reached the incredibly sexy Ivan Zeklos. I apologise for my unavailability, but...well, can you blame them? Leave a cheeky message after the tone.
I removed the phone from my ear, took a swing at the bottle in my hand and tried again. And each time, I got the same voicemail. But apparently that was the story of my life: trying over and over again only to be met with the same futile result. I hung my head over the back of the sofa with my right arm draped over the side holding a half-empty bottle of whiskey that offered to redemption. No solace. The pain still lingered and all I had achieved was securing one hell of a hangover tomorrow morning. I closed my eyes and groaned – allowing my body to go limp. Perhaps sleep would do me better? No. I'd only dream of her and wake in nightmare's unrelenting clasp as my sweet dreams turned to sour reality. Turning my head to the side, I stretched out my neck and groaned again.
There was a knock at my door. I immediately opened my eyes and jumped off the couch. Maybe it was Rose? Highly unlikely, but if there was still that one in one-hundred-thousandth of a chance, I'd still hope. That and my slight intoxication had somewhat suppressed my reason. I walked over to the door, bottle in hand, and opened it to reveal...
Not Rose.
I really shouldn't have been as disappointed as I was, and yet I was no longer in full control of my inner workings. Two sets of eyes stared back at me. One was a molten gold, the other a brilliant green. They both looked first at me and then at the bottle in my hand before the golden eyed girl filled with sympathy and the green grew knowing.
"Hey, Dimitri Belikov?" Green eyes asked and I nodded slowly, "I'm Adrian Ivashkov – we've met before."
My eyes widened. Adrian:the parachute jumper that I sponsored a lifetime ago; the young boy that used to work in the office before Viktor found cause to fire him; the wannabe artist that could not achieve his goal to his father's influence. Well, if his second name was anything to go by, it was not hard to guess just who this inhibiting man was.
Again, I nodded numbly and he spoke again: "We need to talk." There was something in his tone that was almost authoritative and I was a little taken aback.
"Sure, come in." I invited Adrian and his blonde-haired companion in politely and offered them a drink.
"Oh, I don't drink alcohol..." The girl with the golden eyes and the lily tattoo fumbled a little which brought a small smile my face.
"I have other options." I reassured, smiling, and she bit her lip, a little embarrassed. Adrian too wore a slight grin but when the girl clocked this, her embarrassment turned to a scowl towards him and he stopped smiling but the amusement lingered in his eyes.
"Thank you, but I think I am okay." The girl – Sarah? No, Sydney – said and I nodded, before turning to Adrian.
"I'll take that drink and I do drink alcohol." Adrian said flatly as the dark expression returned to his face. I offered him the bottle in my hand and he took it gratefully. Sydney looked a little disapproving but did not offer any protests. She reminded me a little of Viktoria when I first started drinking back when I was still living in Russia. Vika was very young, but would only allow me to drink if something really, really, bad had happened which did not give me optimism for what Adrian was about to say.
"Firstly, I just want to affirm that I am not a stalker – your address was on the sponsor sheet." That was certainly not what I expected Adrian to say and in truth how he knew my address hadn't even crossed my mind, but I suppose it was reassuring that in the mists of all this chaos, I didn't have to worry about being stalked by one of my Roz-Rose's friends. "Thanks for that by the way." He added and I nodded.
"My pleasure, so what can I help you with?" I asked, flopping down in the leather armchair as Adrian and Sydney took the unoccupied couch. Adrian took another swing from the bottle as Sydney gripped his free hand before speaking.
"Dimitri, this is going to be hard but you need to know the truth." Adrian said and a frown grew upon my brow.
"What truth...?" I asked slowly. 'Truth' hadn't exactly been on my side lately and I could hardly imagine it getting any worse, but once again I had spoken to soon.
"Your pitch for the Manhattan region – you know, the one you and my father were in competition for." I nodded slowly and my frown increased.
Adrian tried to articulate a coherent sentence but in his failing Sydney jumped in, "Dimitri, your pitch was not as good as Nathan's was." She said in tender apology.
I raised an eyebrow. Confusion raked through my being as I tried to follow the meaning of that statement. I had beaten Nathan; I still had my job, ergo, my pitch had to have been better. "I don't understand." I voiced this puzzlement.
This time, Adrian found the words to clarify: "Tasha only chose yours so you would sleep with her again." He said bitterly.
And just like that, the rest of my world came crashing down. I feel into a state that could have been confused with shell shock. I had never felt so disgusted, so degraded, in all my existence – she used me. She gave me the fantasy of success, but I was being played right into her hand. It was just a game to her and I had been so foolish and participated – allowing her to taunt and tease me like a child. How could I have been so stupid?
Once upon a time, I would have wallowed in self-pity before calling up Ivan and partying away my sorrows. But since Rose had come into my life like a blazing ball of redemption and saved not just me but Ivan too, I had slowly been peeled from that life. That, and Ivan was out enjoying his life in a much better and less threatening way. Instead, I remained frozen. Locked in ice, as I processed this development. I realised there was no point in wallowing,or drowning out my sorrow. I could not change the past but I'd be damned if I didn't get a say in the future.
It was in that moment that I re-acknowledged Sydney and Adrian – the two that delivered the news to me like Mercury. Sydney looked as though she wanted to give me a hug and Adrian was a mixture of remorse and...anger?
Of course. His father.
Adrian had every right to be angry at me – hell, I was angry at me. Nathan Ivashkov was a legend in the world of business: to have been beaten by someone like me was bad enough to taint his glorious reputation, but to have been beaten under false pretences made it a whole lot worse. I didn't particularly like my job, but for Nathan, that was his life. And to be stripped from it, no matter how much of a bastard he was, was unforgiveable.
"Adrian, I am so sorry." I apologised which seemed to take both Adrian and Sydney by surprise.
"It's not your fault." Adrian assured, waving me off after getting over his surprise, "You had nothing to do with this."
"But I can do something about it," I responded without hesitation. Adrian frowned and closed my eyes, knowing what I was about to do would change everything: "I'm going to give your father his job back..."
"Are you sure about this?"
"Absolutely."
"I mean, do you want a little time to at least think this over?"
"Nothing to think about."
The conversation between myself and Adrian on the way to his father's house – sorry, mansion – went much in the same fashion; he continued to question my motives and reasoning behind this, stating that intoxication did weird things and I would probably regret it in the morning. Whilst I was not unfamiliar with this progression of events, this time was different. In truth, I don't think I had been thinking clearer than in that moment. That little bit of whiskey, that little bit liquor, had loosened me up enough just to relieve that relentless part of my brain that questioned every decision and invariably talked me out of doing the right thing. Babushka had always urged me to trust my instincts and have a little faith – in fact, she had so indoctrinated it into me I could recite at the drop of a penny Mathew 14:22-23: how the disciples had remained in the boat whilst only Peter had the faith to step out onto the water. "One out of twelve" she used to say, "One out of twelve had the courage to take that step – be like Peter, trust in what you know to be good."
We had been walking for a while – walking instead of driving since I was a little above the legal limit and didn't fancy crashing my car. Adrian matched my stride, continuing to make sure I was still thinking straight, as Sydney struggled to keep up behind, breaking into mini jogs at various intervals. The Ivashkov mansion, or at least the one we were going to as they had five, was not too far away but still a good walk. In spite of this, my sobering mind did not try to talk me out of what I was going to do. Deep down, I suppose, I'd been looking for an opportunity to leave – my past life had cost me my future and I wanted to scrap every remnant of it from my mind. Gone were the clubs, the drugs and the vodka – I had at least limited myself to whiskey rather than the brew of my home country. Gone were my callous character, misogynistic morals and seeming inability to function as a decent human being. I had to, needed to, let go of everything and the only thing left was the job. That stupid job. It was the thing that had corrupted me in the first place – manipulated me into its enslavement. I didn't even like it. The only reason I had worked so hard to keep it was because I had convinced myself that I could not live without it.
Never had such bullocks entered my mind.
I chuckled, laughing it off because if I didn't, I was seriously going to start crying. How pathetic I must have been to even contemplate that. No, I needed to set this right – first by rightfully giving Nathan back his employment and then, winning back Rose.
That latter agenda was going to be tough and I had no idea how I was going to do it, but I would. I would find some way to win her back. Money wouldn't fix this, this had to come from my heart and that is exactly what I was planning consulting with.
And with this newly acquired spring in my step, I hopped up the three steps and rapped on the door to the Ivashkov mansion.
"Adrian! If you have forgotten your key, again, I swear to God-" Nathan cut himself off upon opening the door to reveal clearly not his son. His aged face hardened, and if it wad even possible, distain filled his features. "Belikov." He said coldly, "Come to steal my home as well as my job?" I had forgotten how much of an ass this man was, and seriously considered just walking off, but managed to keep a composed expression and remained put.
"Not at all," I smiled and his suspicious glare increased. I was about to continue when he interrupted me to gasp at his son.
"Adrian! You brought this man here!? You may go out of your way to defy me but this is just unforgivable. Brining this fifth to my doorstep. Don't think this has done you any favours after that helicopter stunt, mister..." He warned dangerously, his eyes ablaze in anger towards his heir.
"Dad-"
"Silence! I have never been so ashamed in all my life!" he roared.
I decided that this would be a good moment to interject. "Mr Ivashkov, if you could refrain from shouting for just a minute, I'd like to get my proposition across."
His head inclined back to mine, quirking slightly as it did. "What do you want then, Belikov?" he said coldly.
I inhaled deeply before beginning, "As you are aware, I am currently working on the development of my pitch with the District Head of Manhattan-"
"Your point?" he interrupted.
"Getting to it." I responded a little harshly but Nathan merely nodded his head, thus I continued, "As it turns out, the head only chose mine over yours so that we could...get together..." I said vaguely but Nathan caught my drift. His eyes widened and he seemed, for the first time since I had met him, taken aback; all but shocked over the newly enlightened piece of information and appeared utterly speechless. I paused and cleared my throatto alleviate some of the shock, but the futility was unsurprising. "In light of the development, I feel it only right to do the moral thing."
Nathan, having composed himself enough to articulate a coherent sentence, frowned. "What are you saying...?" he asked slowly.
To which, I merely shrugged. "Your pitch was better, I could never compete, so it is not right for me to have the job you earned and deserve."
"Are you saying...?"
"The job is yours if you want it." I finished before he could utter another sceptical syllable. I could see both Sydney and Adrian's small grins out of the corner of my eyes as Nathan seemed to fumble even more over this piece of information.
"Are you mocking me?" he said, some of the old anger seeping through.
Involuntarily, I rolled my eyes. "No, I am not mocking you. Obviously, I will need to have a conversation with Viktor, but the job is very much yours, should you desire it to be so."
I could see the eagerness flood his eyes – honestly, it reminded me of a kid at this time of year – but he kept his face as placid as ever, maintaining the Ivashkov pride. "I had you wrong, Dimitri." He admitted in genuine sincerity. "I accept your proposal gladly and know this: if ever you need any aid, the Ivashkov family will be only too willing to comply." He added with a respectful nod.
"Thank you, sir." I said gratefully.
"Please, call me Nathan." He smiled, waving off my formality. I raised an eyebrow but seeing his dim, greyish green eyes lit up with such excitement had me resisting laughter at this moment.
"Thank you, Nathan." I emphasised for his benefit, "Merry Christmas."
"Oh, it is indeed." He grinned before casting his gaze to his son. "Don't be out too long – I am feeling a family meeting is required." He said in a tone so out of character, I was seriously struggling not to laugh. "Merry Christmas, Dimitri." He nodded before wander back into his home; I could just hear the echo of his calling to his wife through the hallway as the door closed behind him. When the lock fell in place, I let loose the small chuckle. Shaking my head, I turned around and found both Sydney and Adrian smiling at both me and towards the now closed door.
"I don't think I have ever seen him so happy." Sydney commented
Adrian shrugged. "He's a grumpy guy – what can you do?" He said evoking smiles from both me and Sydney, "You know, I can see why Rose fell for you."
And just like that, my mood plummeted.
I knew he meant nothing by it – at the very most a decent compliment – but that comment was like a blow to the stomach; I had already been stabbed and that just twisted the blade a little further in. I could not help the involuntary wince as I looked away from them – I had hurt their friend. Whatever good I may have done could not take away from that fact.
Noticing my change in mood (it wasn't exactly subtle), both Adrian and Sydney frowned. "Are you okay?" Adrian asked.
Slapping myself out of it, I straightened up enough to make my leave, "I should probably go." I stated and made to exit stage right, but what immediately stopped by Adrian's extended arm.
"Nu-uh, mate," he said and I cocked an eyebrow at him. "You just put my dad in the first good mood in years and that, right there, was a look of pain."
"You should really be with your family – enjoy what's left of this year." I said and realised I wasn't just talking about Adrian. Maybe it was finally time to suck up whatever pride I had left and go back home – to my mother, sisters and babushka. Mama always had the best Christmas breaks.
Adrian, taken aback, withdrew his arm and allowed me to step aside. I bid him and Sydney farewell in a nod a set off away from the Ivashkov mansion, taking the slow steps back home. But before I could get too far, I heard Adrian call my name and I halted and turned to hear:
"Dimitri, I like you and I don't think I have seen Rose so happy in all the years I have known her. I would be a huge dick if I tried to stop that progressing, so I am telling you that what you have with Rose is not over. Give her a couple of days – let her cool down – but fight for her. Everyone has done something we regretted, but we should let it hinder happiness when we inadvertently stumble upon it. Rose has been through a lot of shit in her time – she deserves to be happy. And so do you."
Like it? Love it? Hate it?
I know, I know: this is a bit of a filler chapter, but I promise that the next one will...heat things up a little :P
My head is kinda a swarm right now, so I apologise if this shows through in my work; I have so many ideas for stories, not just Fanfiction but my own projects too xD I guess this is the curse of the writer, trying to keep track of all your thoughts :3 I go to write something down and coming with more ideas and finally end up with a short story really xD
The big question is though...are we all feeling Christmas-y? ;) I literally spent two and a half hours yesterday writing cards and wrapping gifts and I have just watched Love Actually – it is officially Christmas for me xD My playlist is so odd right now (not that it isn't usually :3): I've got Wham going to Jingle Bells and then to, like, O Come All Ye Faithful and I am loving it – no shame :D
Even if you are not, I really wish you all the very best and will update as soon as I can :)
Mariarty :D