her

"What were you thinking?" Keyen admonishes her once they are sitting in the limo.

Her mother only speaks in Cantonese when she's pissed and when she doesn't want anyone to know what they are talking about. Right now, both of those reasons are in place. Keyen has been pissed ever since she saw her daughter sitting at the edge of the balcony. Not scared, not worried about her wellbeing, but absolutely furious. Because that was the correct way of reacting towards her daughter's cry for help.

Alina looks at the window, pondering about what to tell her mother. Should she tell the truth? Or the same lie she has been repeating since this morning? Alina doesn't even know what the truth is anymore, because despite what that bodyguard said, she was not suicidal. She just wasn't.

She closes her eyes and barely shakes her head. Alina knows she was, Mr. Kirigan was right. It's just that Alina had never used that word to describe herself. A couple of hours ago, she had never even used the word, out loud or otherwise. There just wasn't a reason for it, she was going to jump to her death, the semantics weren't her priority back then. The real meaning behind her actions was not something she particularly cared about.

"I was drinking, I told you. I wasn't thinking about what I was doing." Alina replies, in English. Her Cantonese is rudimentary, and she's being generous with the adjective. Her mother never taught her the language, despite Alina's pleas, Keyen insisted; she didn't want Alina to get an accent. Her mother always said the last thing people needed was a reminder that she was part Chinese.

As usual, part of her mother's agenda was to hide her heritage. People could never find out what she was. It was best to present her as someone of ambiguous heritage. That way they could market her as exotic, as sexy, and sensual, but just with enough hint, so that people won't drag her into conversations about race.

That was the reason behind many things in her career. It was the reason she only used her first name. The Kir-Taban was buried, and many efforts were displayed to keep it away from the headlines and the Internet. It was the reason she barely spoke about her mother and why Keyen remained away from the public, always hiding backstage. It was the reason her real hair remained hidden under a wig. It was why Genya was instructed to always make her look like a westerner. It was the reason she had to go to the gym and grow herself a booty that would make jealous.

It was one of the reasons Alina no longer felt like herself. She was stripped of her identity, of her roots. Growing up, she always felt proud of who she was. Instead of being ashamed for looking different, she always felt proud and happy of who she was, of her story, and her family's past. But that was something she wasn't allowed to celebrate now. She could never highlight her Chinese heritage or speak against racism and xenophobia.

Why would she? When she was supposed to be a singer with no heritage?

"You don't drink. You're also not a liar." Her mother hisses. "Did you forget how hard we had to work to finally achieve what we always wanted? Do you want to see all our hard work disappear?"

There it is, the reason Alina doesn't actually tell the truth: because no one would really listen to her, not even her own mother. The person who carried her for months, who gave birth to her, who looked after her… The person who used to love her. Now it seems like Keyen just loves the money-making aspect of Alina, that she only loves the idea she gave birth to, not her own daughter.

The reason she doesn't say the truth is because, although Eryk was right, and she needed help, she knew she just wouldn't get it. Alina's been free-falling for months, and her mother doesn't see, doesn't see her daughter is long gone.

Her mother's hand flies to her face, grabbing her by the chin; "Promise me this was really a mistake. Tell me this won't happen again." Alina feels her nails digging in her skin. All she wants is to stop her from hurting her, so she nods, like the good daughter she is. "Good, you have nothing to cry or be sad about. You should be thankful everyone is still raving about your win instead of this. People like us do not get second chances, so don't you even think about pulling this crap once again."

Alina nods again and gives her mother something that's supposed to be a smile, although she's unsure if she actually succeeds; "Of course, mama. It won't happen again."

She thinks she can make that statement true. She absolutely thinks she can. What the fuck does this Eryk guy really know, after all? How dare he call her suicidal? Who did he think he was by offering something she didn't need or want? She was fine, she was going to be okay. She would make sure of it.

The rest of her day is filled with appearances all over town. Luckily, her mother convinced everyone to avoid mentioning the incident. Instead, everyone just focuses on her award and her upcoming album. Everyone plays their role to perfection, including Alina herself.

She does two radio interviews, a photoshoot, guest stars on a podcast, and pre-tapes a segment for The Tonight Show. She wears six different outfits, one more revealing than the next. Genya rearranges her wig three different times. Her mother reminds her to smile countless times. Alina signs more autographs than ever before and smiles bigger and brighter than ever. Someone gives her an apple and a Coca-Cola, and Zoya says it's lunch. Sergei purposefully sends her without a bra to the recording place, where she's going to sing 'Masterpiece' for the entertainment of Jimmy Fallon and his audience. Since they are unable to see their nipples live in New York, she might as well give them a peek.

No one asks her how she is, how she is feeling. No one mentions anything about last night. Although Alina is tempted to think that is because of her mother, she quickly realizes it's because people simply don't care. They buy her bullshit and the lies she feeds them, while they do their jobs as they are meant to. She doesn't want to be mean, because at the end of the day, she doesn't know them, and has never actually bonded with them. It just seems to her that as long as she still signs their paychecks, they won't care.

Mal hasn't even tried to contact her, and Alina doesn't know if that's a blessing or a curse.

The only moment she's left alone is at night, back at the hotel. Her mother not-so-gently had reminded her, with a comment about her weight, that she should go to the gym. She had been busy in the morning, as she had been feeding everyone lies about what happened, and that got in the way of training. Alina doesn't even mind the jab about her weight, she likes working out, it was probably one of the few things about her lifestyle she didn't completely detest. Sure, she could do with the millions of squats, but that wasn't because she hated them, she just hated her ass.

While she works out, she thinks about the bodyguard. Mr. Kirigan. Eryk.

Alina wanted nothing more than to forget about him, about her conversation with him, but her team simply didn't allow such a thing to happen. During the day, they made comments about his appearance and how hot he was, often referring to tweets Alina had yet to see. So as she winds down with some spinning, she decides to go on Twitter and see what other people say about him.

Turns out, Twitter thinks he's hot. And Alina… Well, Alina doesn't have it in herself to think otherwise. He could be a model if he wanted to.

Apparently, there's little information about him online. Before this morning, there weren't even pictures of him. The company he works for offered only his name and information about how many years he has worked as a security detail. Still, Twitter only needed photos of him at the press conference to go nuts. Everyone pointed out how absolutely everything in his physique made him the most attractive man on Earth.

Alina knows how handsome he is, not only in the morning light, but also in the moonlight. She was just too busy sitting at the edge of a balcony to realize that. Still, for all they say about his looks, Alina thinks his best attribute is his voice. She has never heard something like that, so soothing and enchanting.

Even if whatever comes out of his mouth is something she'd rather not hear. Even if he said something, she'd rather ignore.

But Alina can't ignore him now, not really. Because as she vividly remembers their encounters. She remembers that she believed him, that he sounded honest and truthful, but also concerned and worried about her well-being. It's not like she can say the same about the people in her life. She tried to take her life and everyone kept doing their things as if nothing had happened, they kept ignoring her. They even went as far as believing in her shallow words.

"I see you, Alina. I see you."

Eryk had said that. He had whispered when he grabbed her, pressing her against his chest as he removed her from the rail. She remembers she felt safe in his arms. Not because she was no longer sitting in front of a twenty-five-floor drop, but also because he seemed to truly care. He took his time to talk to her, he introduced himself, he even asked her if he could approach her. No one did those things anymore. People touched her and grabbed her like they needed to. Fans demanded photos and autographs, the execs demanded more sales, her mother demanded and demanded and demanded.

And Eryk… Well, he asked, politely and respectfully. He introduced himself, explained his situation, and asked to know her name. He established, or well, at least tried to form a bond with her. Even if she might've harbored doubts about his behavior last night, how he was just faking and doing whatever he needed to do to get her down from the rail; this morning, Alina had no room for doubt in her mind. He seemed worried and genuinely concerned. When her mother explained to him what he'd have to do during the press conference, his facial expression showed how he was not on board with the situation.

Not only that, but he had even offered his hand, extending it for her to grab. What a simple gesture and yet, it had been life-changing for her. Even if she tried to forget his words, try to deny what he had said, his behavior stuck with her. The image of him extending his hand, a hand that seemed strong enough to hold her, was stuck in her brain.

When Alina reaches her suite, she glances at the discarded card he gave her, the one she promptly picked up from the floor once he left. She was still is unsure about what to do with it, but she decided to keep it. It was proof that he was honest, and it could also be helpful, maybe. She still didn't know what to do.

But as she gets ready to go to bed, she decides there is one thing she wants to do. She wasn't really lying when she said she was on top of the world, a golden child, a rising star. That tended to have its perks, such as being able to obtain Eryk's phone number from his employer. A couple of promises about how she just wants to thank him again, and it's hers.

Alina dials the number immediately, not even stopping to think about what she's doing.

"Good evening, Eryk Kirigan speaking." He says, and Alina bites her lip because even on the phone, he sounds intoxicating.

"I assume that you have not found someone to remove the stick up your ass, then." She says, teasing, hoping he knows who she is before she has to introduce herself.

"I am working. Please refrain from ever trying to contact me again. Good evening, Miss. I hope you take care of yourself," that's his reply before he ends the call.

Alina doesn't even have it in her to be mad at his response. It just means she has to get creative and make him contact her.

It takes him three days.

He calls her on a Wednesday just after she had lunch. It's one of those slow days when her obligations started only around nine in the evening and ended around five in the morning. Her mother was in New York, meeting with some potential brands to endorse a potential solo tour across America. Alina had decided to stay in the hotel room and do absolutely nothing. It was the perfect moment for him to call.

"What did you do?" Eryk asks, not bothering with pleasantries once she accepts the call.

"Well, I thought about what you said, and you're right. I do have a platform and I also have money, so I decided to put it to good use and made a donation to a Suicide Prevention Organization," she explains, making herself comfortable in her bed.

"You made a donation in my name," Eryk points out, before adding; "why did you do it? Are you going to tell the truth? Are you going to get help?"

For all he was hot, he was also relentless.

She decides to ignore the last two questions. "I did it because you were right," she says, which is the truth, albeit part of it. "You saved me and I am thankful. Instead of showing that, I made you lie in front of everyone." She finishes, being more honest than she expected to be.

For a second, the line goes silent, and she has to check that the call is still on, slightly afraid that he hung up on her again. But he's still there, at least that's what her phone says.

"I do not like to lie, Miss. But I appreciate your donation on my behalf," he ends up saying, after letting out a big breath. "I would like to apologize. I am not in the habit of making assumptions about people. After the press conference, I accused you of being something I have no clue if you really are. I have also overstepped in suggesting you get help. It is your life, you should do with it what you see fit. Although I do hope you take care of yourself, that is your decision to make."

Alina closes her eyes and wonders if anyone has ever treated her like that, like she's a human being deserving of an apology. Her eyes water at the thought, about how Eryk, despite everything, has shown her more kindness than anyone else.

"Please call me Alina. There's no need for you to address me as Miss," she says because it seems like the right thing to do. "Thank you for your apology, I accept it. I hope you can accept mine."

"I do," he says and for a second, they just stay in silence, hearing the other one breathe. It feels oddly intimate. "Well, if that is all, then goodbye, Alina. Please take…"

"What are you doing?" She cuts him off, she doesn't want the call to end, she wants to hear his voice. She'd like to keep talking to him.

"What am I doing?" He repeats, and Alina thinks she can hear a hint of surprise in his tone. For a second, she worries he might try to end the call or be unwilling to share aspects of his life, but then, he answers. "I am about to install security cameras in my house."

Oh fuck, that is probably her fault.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! If you want, you can send me how much it was, and I can reimburse you or… I don't know. I'm sorry, I realize you are a private person and this must be very annoying."

"You do not need to pay for this. In a couple of days, someone else will trend or go viral or whatever it is that kids do these days, and I will be a thing of the past. Meanwhile, my house will still be safe," Eryk reassures her, and Alina sighs in relief.

"Try to at least get a date. I saw that Twitter went nuts for you, some women seemed eager to get a date with you," she comments, and then she realizes she's better than that, so she adds; "or men. If you're not straight!"

He chuckles at her and, wow, he's able to laugh. Maybe he should do that more often.

"Yes, I am capable of laughing Alina," he replies and that's when she realizes she said that stupid thing out loud. Luckily, he can't see her blushing, "I'm afraid, I am not interested in anyone."

"You're asexual, then?" Maybe she can introduce him to David. He was her favorite sound engineer. He was very knowledgeable, a bit shy, but he was one of the few people who treated Alina like a human being. "I can introduce you to someone!"

"No, Alina. I am just busy. I am not interested in pursuing a relationship," he says, his tone making it clear he doesn't want to continue with that conversation. She wonders why when he's clearly attractive. Even if he was busy and didn't want a relationship, he could have anyone he wanted. "Are you not busy? Should you not be doing something instead of trying to pry about my personal life?"

"I actually have the day off. Well, until nine at least. I have a party to go to. I have to mingle and stuff. Maybe, if people ask for it, I will sing, but right now I am free," she explains. It sounds pathetic. A couple of days ago she told him she was on top of the world, and now she's in her hotel room trying to get this conversation to last for as long as she can.

"And you are spending your afternoon talking to me," he comments, hitting the nail on the head.

"Yes. I like this conversation so far, don't you? Although, if you're busy, you can go. I don't want to disturb you," she says, and she means it. Even if she craves human connection, she knows she has already created so much disruption in his life, he must be tired of her. He's probably entertaining her out of pity.

No, she knows that last bit is not true. The last time they spoke, he ended the call without a second thought. If he's still talking to her, then he must be enjoying himself, right? Somehow, she doesn't think he's someone who'd willingly do something he's not comfortable or happy doing.

That clearly makes him the polar opposite of her. If he was in her situation, he wouldn't feel helpless. He would actually do something, unlike her, he would be free, he would release himself from the ties that the label had her on. Instead of doing that, Alina pretended she was fine and played the game, just to make everyone, but herself, happy and rich.

"I do not mind, Alina. Maybe if we keep talking, you could realize there is no stick up my butt," he jokes, making her laugh. She doesn't remember the last time she laughed like this, bubbly, carefree, joyous. She had been instructed to never laugh like this in public, but there was no need for that. It's been months since she's felt true happiness, since something has actually made her laugh. It's been ages since something made her truly want to laugh.

"Low and behold, Mr. Kirigan has a sense of humor!" She announces, making him chuckle as well.

"Feel free to call me Eryk, Alina. If we're going to keep talking, there is no need for formalities," he says, and Alina feels something warm and fuzzy inside her. Something she doesn't want to name, but something that makes her feel great all the same.

They end up talking for most of the afternoon, about anything and everything. He doesn't get around to installing the security camera, but she asks him about what he was doing the other night she called, and he tells him more about his job. Eryk explains how he started in the military and then decided to work in private security. He tells her about his first years working for the wife and son of the governor of New York before deciding to move to California. He wanted jobs where he didn't have to leave the state, which meant that nowadays he mostly works when important people visit or as security when important people throw parties.

Alina hangs to his every word. She wonders if maybe in another life he was a poet or a public speaker, or maybe a speechwriter because he's so well-spoken it's incredible. She's part of the industry, she herself has had classes to improve her speech and public speaking skills, but she doesn't feel like she could compare to him.

Eryk tries to get her to talk about herself, but she's sick about herself, so she asks him more questions until he relents and answers every question she asks, within reason, of course. She understands that, in his line of work, there are things he cannot reveal. But still, it's the best time Alina has spent in a while.

She loses track of time and only says goodbye when her team arrives at her suite, entering without knocking and making themselves at home to start working on getting her ready for the party. Eryk admits he has to go to work as well, so they part, but even as she hangs up, she feels great. Admittedly, she hasn't felt like that in a while, and it must show because Zoya comments:

"It's nice to see you smile. Mal should call you more often."

The mention of his name is the needle that pops the bubble she immersed herself in the past couple of hours. Zoya's words are a reminder that in her life she doesn't get to be happy. That she might be a nightingale, but she's trapped and no one seems to see or care.

No one but Eryk.

him

Aleksander wakes up with Iris on top of his chest, trying to calm him. He had another nightmare. It's the fourth one this week.

"I am okay. I am okay," he says to the dog while trying to regulate his breathing. He's been having nightmares lately, so he is not really surprised by the situation. He's just thankful Iris is there for him, using her training to calm him down. "Thank you, Iris, you are the best girl." Aleksander kisses her head before he gets out of bed.

Although he is not surprised, he is annoyed. After all, it's not like he enjoys waking up sweaty and disoriented, but also scared and remembering things he would like nothing more than to forget. He also needs to rest, because he can only be good at his job as long as he has rested and is focused at work. He needs to be sharp, quick, and decided, and he cannot be any of those things if he is yawning constantly.

Still, he does not go back to bed. It will not do him any good to lay there, just waiting for his past to haunt him. So he goes to his closet and grabs his running gear, and before he knows it, he and Iris are out the door jogging around his neighborhood.

He has never been one to use music when exercising, he liked to use that time to think, meditate or simply disconnect and instead focus on his breathing. This time he does neither of those things because his thoughts immediately wander to Alina. That has been happening a lot lately, almost as much as the nightmares. But, unlike the nightmares, he actually welcomes Alina's presence in his life.

He cannot deny that he still feels a certain reluctance about getting closer to her. She might not realize it, but in many ways, Alina is the human embodiment of everything he has been trying to run for more than a decade. He has been lucky so far, successful even, and being close to her would mean risking that because Alina comes with a huge spotlight behind her. She was not exaggerating when she said she was on top of the world. At least Fedyor and Ivan can confirm that. And the billboards all over the city do seem to have her face and body plastered on them.

There is also the important detail of how Alina inadvertently opened a door to his past, a door that had stayed locked for a really long time. Aleksander does not blame her for how her actions impacted his life, because if there is something he knows is that she must be in a very dark place and in need of help. However, it is a reminder that he also has ghosts to deal with, that even if he tries to pretend that he has everything under control, there is a reason why he is thankful for Iris. There is, after all, a reason why he no longer is who he used to be.

However, even if he is reluctant about letting her in, he has to admit that it does not seem to matter. Ever since Alina reached out, he realized that there is a reason why people are captivated by her. It's not because of her singing voice, because he still hasn't googled her or listened to any of her songs. It's because Alina can be incredibly charming and adorable without faking it; but most importantly, Alina was relentless.

Aleksander had to give it to her, the idea of donating to an organization in his name was a clever way of getting his attention. Although he had hoped she had a change of heart, after it became clear that she would not be seeking help, he still decided to talk to her. Fedyor had reminded him that there was little he could do to help her if she had yet to admit there was a situation to be addressed.

And while Alina did not seem eager to seek help, she did seem to want friendship. So he offered that to her, at first because he thought that maybe he could get her to change her mind, but then he realized he liked talking to her. It was a stark contrast from the girl he was talking to almost every day to the girl he first met, legs dangling on the edge of certain death. At first, he wondered if it was a ruse or something on her part, maybe something her mother set her up to, probably to make sure he didn't sell her secrets to the press or something. Deep down, he knew it wasn't like that.

Something in her voice felt too familiar, and he recognized that, because just like him, she was lonely. Alina craved human interaction and since it became clear she was not going to get it from the people in her life, she turned to him.

Aleksander felt truly honored. That is why, when she reached out, he accepted the gesture and reciprocated in part.

They talked constantly. When they were free, either of them would call the other and if they were busy, Alina convinced him that casual texting was a thing of the twenty-first century and that emojis were funny. Aleksander was still on the fence about the last statement, which apparently forced Alina to call him so that she can accuse him of being an 'old man'. He was not mad about that statement, not really. Despite what Alina said, he was fine not knowing what the hell TikTok was.

Alina, it seems, has made a home in a part of his brain. But as he finishes his jog and walks back to his house, he realizes his statement is true in the physical world.

Because currently, Alina is sitting on the front step of his house, high heels and purse tossed aside, in his lawn. She is looking at the sky, his presence still unnoticed by her. Aleksander could make himself known, but he takes advantage of this moment to look at her, it's been two weeks since the last time he saw her.

Her white hair —according to Fedyor is a wig, but Aleksander has no way of knowing— rests at the base of her neck in a simple bun. Her face is up to the sky, where she seems to be enjoying the cloudless night sky, if the smile on her lips is to be believed and the twinkle in her beautiful eyes is telling the truth. She does not seem to be wearing a lot of makeup, she's not even wearing jewelry aside from her earrings. It does not matter, because he thinks Alina looks beautiful.

Then his eyes travel to her body, and he feels like choking on his own saliva.

Alina is wearing a red… dress. Or, well, he assumes that is what she is supposed to be wearing, but he cannot, in good conscience, call the fabric around her body a dress. He has kitchen rags that are bigger than that. If he tries to, he is sure he can see her underwear, and he simply will not do that.

So he coughs, to make himself known, and as she looks his way an even bigger smile than the one she had when she was looking at the stars.

Aleksander means to ask why she is there or how she got his address, but Alina does not let him open his mouth.

"You didn't tell me you had a dog!" She exclaims, and it's impossible to ignore her excitement, so she releases Iris from his leash, letting her make her way to Alina, who welcomes her with open arms. "I can't believe you hid this from me, you monster! I love dogs. Hi, hi! Eryk is a mean old man who kept us apart. I am Alina and you have to be the goodest dog ever. Look at you, yes, yes you are." Alina coos and praises as Iris relishes the attention. He has never seen anyone love each other instantly as Alina with Iris.

"Her name is Iris," he offers, as he makes his way to the door and opens it. "Please come in."

"You named your dog Iris?" She asks while she stands up and picks her stuff from the lawn before entering the house.

"No, I adopted her and that was her name. I decided to keep it as she was two and a half years old. It was mean to try to change her name she was already accustomed to," he explains, turning on the lights and closing the door.

"Well aren't you the best girl, uh? Yes, yes you are," Alina continues to say, dropping her stuff on his couch before she bends in half to keep petting Iris and giving Aleksander a full view of her cunt, making his dick twitch in his jogging shorts.

For a second, he looks, because she is wearing something that is, apparently, supposed to be underwear, but it barely covers her. He hates himself from looking and quickly tears his gaze away, just as questions flood his brain; why is she wearing that? Did she choose to? Do they make her? Is she comfortable? Aleksander is not a prude, and he knows Alina is pretty —beautiful, his brain provides, but Aleksander tries to shush him— but a part of him feels uncomfortable with her level of exposure. It is her body and she can do what she wants with it. The thing is, he is almost completely sure it is not her choice to dress like this. Someone in her life must impose this on her.

"Aren't you going to show me around?" Alina asks, looking at him over her shoulder. If she knows she is giving him a full view of her pussy, she does not seem to mind.

"What you see is what you get, mostly…" he has not finished talking, and she is promptly skipping around his living room, making herself at home. "Why are you here? You told me you were going to a party."

"Oh, I got bored," she says, as if it is nothing, as she looks around. His place is not necessarily filled with personal items. He has a library, a couch, a coffee table, and a TV he rarely uses. There are no pictures of him or his family on display, nor are there any paintings or drawings of any kind. The only thing hanging from his walls are his diplomas, although he is unsure as to why. He hates seeing his fake name plastered all over his achievements. When he forged new documents and created this new identity for himself, he failed to realize how miserable he would be while looking at his achievements being given to someone else. Even if that someone else was himself, it made him want to throw up that he was no longer Aleksander Morozov.

"You didn't tell me you went to Harvard Law! Wow! You're, like, really smart," she says with a cheeky tone, turning to look at him with real glee on her face.

"I might be very smart, but I cannot, for the life of me, understand how you got my home address," he says, looking pointedly at her. Although he is not really mad, he is curious because it is a security breach, after all.

"A girl has her ways," is all she responds, winking at him before making her way to his kitchen.

He follows her because of course he fucking does.

"Can I offer you some water? Food?" He asks once he gets there, opening his fridge to serve both of them a glass of water. "Feel free to look around if you want." The only reason he says that is because he has a feeling she was going to do it anyway. So, he is not really surprised when he finds her looking around her cabinets.

"Oh, you have Cheetos!" She exclaims, while she tries to jump to grab them. It is only now, that she's barefoot, that he realizes how tiny she really is. It makes him laugh. "Hey! Don't mock me, just help me, big guy!" Aleksander nods and walks towards her, grabbing the orange bag for her. He pointedly keeps his distance. She might be wearing next to nothing, but he does not want to make her feel uncomfortable. The last thing he wants is that, especially when she seems thrilled for a bag of Cheetos. "Thank you," she says, before she hops on the counter and promptly devours the whole thing.

Despite her clothing, she looks like a kid. She looks so young right now, full of glee and joy. Her legs dangle from the counter and although it is hard for him to ignore that the first time he saw her, her legs were dangling from a completely different place, it makes him feel content to see her like this.

She told him she was on top of the world, and yet, there she is, excited over a bag of junk food. "You left a party to come and steal my Cheetos?" He quips, arching an eyebrow as she takes her head out of the bag to look at him.

"No, I left the party and I came here to ask if you wanted to go and eat or maybe do something, but you weren't here," Alina explains, licking the orange dust from her fingers. Aleksander's eyes promptly look around the room. He will not look at her as she continues to eat. "I assumed you'd be sleeping because you're a grandpa. I didn't expect you to be out jogging."

"I had trouble sleeping and decided it would be a good idea to go for a run. I was not expecting to find Cinderella in my front step," Aleksander jokes and makes the mistake of looking at her as he does, only to find her blushing, trying to hide it under the empty bag of Cheetos.

"I haven't eaten Cheetos since I was seventeen. I missed them, so thank you," she says, and Aleksander tries very hard not to think about how many things make her happy, and she is unable to enjoy them because of the current state of her life. She seems to be thinking the same thing because she looks at her orange-stained fingers as if all her happiness disappeared when she emptied the bag.

He cannot bear the thought of her now feeling miserable. Call him selfish if you will, but after seeing how ecstatic she was ever since she saw Iris, he refuses to look at her any other way. Aleksander will not settle for whatever crap she puts on for everyone else. He has seen the real deal, the real Alina, and he wants more of that.

"Iris was supposed to be a therapy dog," he offers, before calling his dog. It seems like a safer topic than university. He thought about asking if she wanted to go, but maybe that is something forbidden for her as well. "She was part of the program for around two and a half years. When she was two, she was attacked by another dog. They tried to rebuild her confidence, but she's scared around other animals, so they released her from the program. A friend of mine knew that I was looking to adopt, so I applied. She has been in my life for the past five years."

"Oh, Iris!" Alina says, stepping down from the counter to pet his dog; "I'm so sorry someone attacked you, Iris, but you must know you are the best girl. I can assure you as much."

"She likes you," he says, coming closer to them, a faint smile on his lips at the image he has in front of him. "It makes me sad because I think she would have been a wonderful therapy dog. I think she could have helped a lot, but I am very glad to have her in my life."

Alina looks up and smiles at him, and when she does, Aleksander has to make the conscious decision to keep breathing. She looks absolutely radiant, warm, and bright as the midday sun.

Why would people not realize she has been faking everything is beyond him, but he silently cherishes being at the receiving end of one of Alina's true smiles.

"I always wanted a dog, you know?" She sits on the floor, her legs make a 'v' so that Iris can comfortably lay in the middle. "I begged and begged for one when I was a kid. I even told my mom I would stop performing if she didn't get me one. But she was a single mother, and we were living in this crappy apartment, and it was just impossible. Not only having a dog, but also my performance strike. We needed the extra income I received from singing at shows or for entering competitions."

Aleksander sits on the floor next to her. He is close enough so that he can smell her perfume, not overly sweet but just enough to hint underneath the smell of alcohol, weed, and cigarette that seems to have clung to her body. He thinks it's completely intoxicating, and perfect for her.

"She ended up giving me a stuffed dog I carried with me everywhere. I named him Eric because I had a huge crush on Ariel's true love. What a coincidence, huh?" Alina giggles, and he laughs as well, mostly because she does. "I could have one now, but it seems cruel to have an animal when I'm so busy. I want a dog I can take care of, not a dog that will be in someone else's care."

Aleksander does not have a clue as to what possesses him to open his mouth and do what he does, but he ends up saying: "Well, you can come whenever you want. Iris and I will not complain."

She turns to look at him, and he once again has to make a conscious decision to keep breathing, because she has taken the air out of his lungs.

"Really? Oh, thank you. That means a lot to me."

"There is nothing to thank, really."

Alina smiles and comes closer, kissing his cheek gently before she rests her head on his shoulder, sighing happily.

They sit in silence for a while, the only sounds around the house coming from their breaths. He finds that he enjoys it a lot. After all, silence is his preferred language these days, and to be able to share that with Alina seems to carry some meaning he tries not to get into but does anyway.

It is pretty telling that they are both able to sit in this complete silence without feeling the need to fill it with words. He was going to be a politician, he has a way with words, both honest and fake. If Aleksander wanted to, he could spin the most beautiful words for her. And Alina could too, he has seen her in action. He has seen her joke and charm everyone at the press conference, but she has also charmed him with her genuine words.

And yet, there they are, sitting in comfortable silence. Aleksander has never done this with someone else, and it feels very intimate.

He ignores how long they stay like that until suddenly, Alina starts to sing.

It takes him by surprise how, all of the sudden, her voice travels from her beautiful lips and starts to fill every nook and cranny of his house. Aleksander is so surprised that, for a second, he does not recognize the song she is singing. He's just mesmerized by the almost angelic sound she makes. And then, it hits him: Alina is singing 'La vie en rose' in French.

Aleksander might not be a religious man, or a spiritual one for that matter, but he is pretty sure this is nirvana. He has become devoted to Alina's voice. He has never heard anything like that before, he will never hear anyone better after her. Of that much he is certain.

Her voice is dulcet and hauntingly beautiful, but there's more than that, she is singing the song and making him believe in it. Aleksander can almost feel it in his bones, there's no need for anyone to understand French, Alina conveys every word perfectly. Makes him believe that life really could be pink, that they can actually achieve some sort of happiness in this life.

When she stops singing, he almost wants to cry. No one has ever made him feel that way in his thirty-two years of life.

He feels silly, clapping for her when he's the only one and there's no one else listening to her, but it is the right thing to do. By all means, he could compliment her, but he does not trust his voice or his brain right now, so his claps will have to do.

Luckily, Alina looks at him with a grateful smile. He does not miss the way the tips of her ears are tinted a lovely shade of pink; "Do you want me to sing another one?" She asks him, and he can practically feel her joy, he can almost taste it.

"Whatever you want to do, that is fine by me," as much as he enjoyed her demonstration, the last thing he wants is to make her feel pressured to do something she does not want. There is already too much of that going on in her life. Even if he would like nothing more than to listen to her forever, he would rather leave the choice in her delicate hands.

"I guess I have to stick to songs before the new century. Since you're an old man that doesn't keep up with pop culture," she teases, eliciting an earnest smile from him. "Ah, I know! I saw her among your vinyls."

Before he can even ask, Alina starts to sing 'Blackbird' by Nina Simone.

It occurs to him that the song, albeit beautiful, is also heartbreaking. Just like the woman who is singing it just right now.

While 'La vie en rose' made him feel like the world tasted like honey, 'Blackbird' makes him remember the world is harsh and cold and that happiness, if obtainable, is only fleeting.

"Mama says that's the first song I ever sang," Alina comments once she finishes, hands still caressing Iris. "We didn't have a TV, but we had a radio and as soon as I could speak I was singing. Mama says that even before that I was already humming and stuff. I know the song is about the struggles of a black woman, but as a minority, I'm still able to relate to it." She explains while Aleksander looks at her. He might understand certain struggles in life, but that one was for Alina to endure alone, as he couldn't even begin to comprehend what it was like for her. "Being biracial is hard enough, but being a part of this industry just makes it harder, you know?"

He does not. If there is something he is unable to understand, it is that in particular. He is ashamed to realize that he hadn't even realized she was biracial.

"I did not know… I had no clue you were biracial." He admits and Alina shakes her head. She does not even look surprised by his words.

"It's okay. The point is to make me ambiguous, there's enough information about myself out there, but not enough so that people can actually pinpoint who I am. They're also trying to make me look less Asian because everything depends on me looking like a westerner or westerner enough," Alina starts to explain. He knows she might try to project indifference, but there's sadness in his voice. It reminds him of when he tries to convince himself he does not miss his old life. "My dad is white, or well, that's what my mom said. I'm just a one-night stand baby. I have to rely on what she's told me."

"You do not have to share this with me, Alina. I just want to say I am sorry for not realizing who you were."

"Oh, I don't mind… Neither having to explain nor your confusion, for all that matters. It's okay. It's good to know you're not perfect," Alina jokes, and Aleksander has never thought of himself as perfect, so he cannot deny he is flattered by her comment. "My mom was born in Hong Kong, she went to university in Bristol, where she met my… dad. I guess it's weird to call him dad if his role is more like a sperm donor. Anyway, Keyen decided to raise me, despite everything. I have always been proud of my heritage, I'm just not allowed to be vocal about it…"

It makes him mad, how she is unable to do many things, how she lives such a constricted life. However, as mad as he is about many things, this upsets him the most. By all means, she should be able to be proud of her roots, of who she is. Once again he thinks about how her platform could shed a light on that, especially with the growing anti-Asian sentiment. She could do something and once again, she's robbed of her voice.

It seems like her voice can only be used as entertainment, not as a weapon.

"Alina, I mean Alina the singer, the image… She was created to be exotic, but exotic just to be sexy, never to make people aware of biracial issues or the problems minorities face. Because that is definitely not sexy and that does not se..." She yawns before she can finish the sentence. "Maybe I should go. I'm about to fall asleep on you."

As much as he would like to continue the conversation, he only needs to take one look at her to know Alina is about to really fall asleep in his kitchen. So, after listening to her he checks his watch; one in the morning. She is not going anywhere.

"You can keep the bed. I will take the couch," he offers, standing up from the floor before offering his hand to her.

"Oh no, it's okay. I'll just call my driver…" she says after standing up, already skipping towards the stuff she left in the living room.

"Let your driver rest, it is one in the morning. They can pick you up tomorrow, or I can drive you. Come with me." His voice, while not necessarily harsh, does not leave room for doubt. He doesn't wait for her to answer, but he knows she is following him to his bedroom. "I apologize for the mess," Aleksander says once they get there, and he realizes the bed is unmade. He tries not to think of that as he goes through his clothes to find something for Alina. "Here, you can sleep in this…"

He turns around with an old shirt for her to wear, only to find that she has discarded the thing she was trying to pass as a dress. She's wearing the shirt he was wearing before he left for a jog.

"I saw it and I thought it looked cozy. Besides, I can say I'm smart enough to go to Yale," she smiles at him before climbing into bed. "We can share if you want. You don't have to take the couch…" There is a longing in his eyes, and he knows she craves contact and human connection, but sharing a bed with her is something he is not willing to do.

"Iris can keep you company," he assures her as he picks up his sweatpants and a pillow to take with him.

"Iris is my favorite flower," she mumbles, looking at him. "I have to say it's red roses because it's sexy and sensual and whatever, but… Blue irises are my favorite flower." Aleksander smiles and comes closer to her, kissing her forehead after her confession. She smiles as well, before getting comfortable in his bed, "Good night, Eryk."

He dreams of fields of blue irises and Alina's beautiful smile.