A past for a past

~Nariya Patel~

I sighed with relief as I extended my weary limbs. The day had taken a toll on my still-recovering self, and I relished the simple joy of regaining some much-needed strength, especially considering the revelations from my guardian. My father, a figure perpetually shrouded in mystery, had always been an enigma to me. I knew he had transitioned from being a university professor specializing in blockchain research to becoming the CTO of the company co-founded by my mother and him. However, beyond these basic facts, I had never delved into the details of his life.

The truth was, advancements in technology, especially those pertaining to emerging technologies, remained a perplexing realm for me, stretching the limits of my comprehension. My mind was besieged by a multitude of questions, the events of the day adding to the confusion. A respite from the chaos was something I earnestly desired.

Perhaps sensing my somber mood, Alexie took the initiative to soothe me, a gesture that I found exceptionally considerate. I decided to retreat to the bathroom, stealing a glance at my reflection in the vanity. My face appeared notably puffy, particularly my bloodshot eyes. Letting out a sigh, I approached the washbasin, filling it with cold water. I dipped my face into the refreshing liquid multiple times, hoping to alleviate the puffiness. After patting my face dry, I observed a reduction in swelling, although the redness in my eyes lingered.

Turning my attention to the wardrobe, I chose to don some comfortable sweatpants and a cozy hoodie, both graciously provided by Alexie. Finally relenting to his generous offer, I acknowledged that it didn't seem likely he would reclaim these items. Therefore, I resolved to make use of them without hesitation.

Unlocking my door, my eyes widened as I was greeted by utter darkness in the halls. "Wha-" I breathed.

"Nari," a voice, familiar and comforting, called out, instantly calming my reflexes. I looked in the direction, spotting a silhouette shrouded in darkness, the origin of the voice.

"What is all this?" I inquired, confusion lacing my voice.

"Well, you'll see," Alexie approached me, his light steps becoming noticeable only when he stood right beside me. "It's a surprise. Can you wear this blindfold for me?" he asked.

Without reluctance, I took the blindfold and donned it, severing even the faintest trace of light from my room and leaving me entirely cut off from my surroundings. As I groped the air, a sense of loss enveloped me, and a fleeting panic started to settle in my skin. However, it was short-lived when a cold hand clasped mine, guiding me towards an unknown destination. The absence of one sense heightened the others, and I could discern, as a cold breeze brushed against my face, that he had led me outside.

"Wait," he instructed, and I could sense the soft, cozy fur of warm slippers engulfing my feet. "Now, remove your blindfold," he continued.

Carefully peeling off the blindfold, my eyes required minimal time to adjust to the twinkling fairy lights that bathed the backyard in a soft glow. The setup, though simple, exuded an elegant charm that invited coziness into the otherwise chilly atmosphere. As my gaze swept across the scene, the focal point became apparent—a sizable white screen stood prominently with a projector positioned in front, flanked by a plush loveseat. Behind the projector, a meticulously arranged grill setup completed the ensemble, ensuring seamless access to both the projector and loveseat. Importantly, the screen's view remained unobstructed from any vantage point, offering a perfect visual experience to anyone within the setup.

Diligence brightened my previously dulled eyes as I marveled at the expertly executed arrangement that somehow avoided feeling overly extravagant. "Wow," I exclaimed, turning my attention to the man beside me, dressed similarly in comfortable attire. "It's so..." Words failed me as I struggled to articulate the depth of my appreciation. A small, giddy feeling welled up in my chest, and I beamed a smile at him. "Thank you so much," I expressed genuinely.

Scratching his head with a shy demeanor, I couldn't help but notice a slight flush on his ears. "You're welcome, moonpie. I thought we could jazz up dinner by grilling and watching 'The Greatest Showman.' I noticed how you liked the songs in it, so I hope that's okay," he explained.

Biting my lip, I hadn't anticipated his considerate gesture. Nodding eagerly, I joined him by the projector, Nyx already comfortably settled in the loveseat. The opening scenes began to play, and I felt a sense of coziness enveloping me as the movie unfolded. While it might not have been my absolute favorite, it served as a great mood lifter, precisely what I needed after the events of the day. The charismatic performances of the actors lifted my spirits, fostering a hopeful anticipation for a better tomorrow if one were to strive and fight for it.

Sighing contentedly, I noticed Alexie had retreated inside and returned with a cooler filled with drinks and a bottle of whiskey, presumably for himself. Placing the cooler next to the grill, he looked up and inquired, "What do you want?"

In a much lighter mood, I couldn't resist the urge to playfully tease. "Oh, I don't get the whiskey?" I quipped.

Looking up, he responded with a casual, "Okay, neat or on the rocks?"

I gaped at him, not expecting such a nonchalant response. It wasn't as if this was my first drink, and I didn't condemn occasional indulgence. However, given his demeanor, I had anticipated a more cautious reply, something along the lines of 'Young lady, you are too young to drink!'

Taken aback, I voiced my thoughts, "Um... aren't you going to say I'm underage?"

He got up, bringing both drinks with ice, and placed the glasses in front of us. It was then that I noticed the discrepancy in quantity. While his glass was almost full to the brim without any ice, mine contained just a quarter of the liquid with ice. Taking a sip of his drink, he explained, "In Russia, you could grab a drink if you are fourteen..." He shrugged and added in a low tone, "until 2011, that is." With that, he continued to enjoy his drink.

Baffled, I stared at him, wondering if something had transpired to leave him so fatigued, his usual composure seemingly slipping away. However, he dispelled my musings with a mischievous smile and said, "I was kidding, Nari. Of course, if you don't want it, I'll grab you soda or juice, or even something hot if you prefer. I just thought it was chilly, and you looked cold, so this might help you warm up."

I formed an "Oh" with my mouth and expressed my gratitude for the thoughtful gesture. Taking small sips of the bitter liquid, the warmth of the drink instantly coursed down my throat, providing a comforting heat that began to dispel the chill.

"Shall we go?" he inquired, moving back to the grill and activating the electrical mechanism. "I thought we could make Hokkaido-style Okonomiyaki today. Have you had it before?" he asked, extracting ingredients from the mini cooler he had brought out earlier. Shaking my head, I decided to leave the drink, making my way towards him, noticing that he had already finished his glass. 'Weird,' I thought, but dismissed those thoughts when I saw him skillfully grilling the Okonomiyaki.

I had experienced Okonomiyaki before, a pancake made with cabbage. However, it turned out that Hokkaido style incorporated noodles as well. Mesmerized, I watched him artfully craft the pancakes, adding various toppings to both. In the end, he garnished them with Bonito flakes that danced with their own energy. Once we were back in our seats, enjoying the movie and our dinner, he casually eyed my drink and asked.

"Not much of a drinker, are you? Maybe whiskey wasn't a good choice for your first drink," he remarked.

I gazed at him, noting that his second glass was already almost empty, and shook my head. "I've had drinks before, but I don't indulge in overdrinking or getting drunk. The thought of losing all your senses and control over your body, and then the urge to bring out a being within you that, for so long, was kept tame and under control, it scares me," I admitted. As I looked at him, I observed how the intensity in his gaze had dulled, and tired lines marred his face. I sighed and continued, "I understand the urge to make everything go away; drinking, it's way easier than accepting. But there are healthier ways to ease up." My hand gently lowered the glass he held, and when he acquiesced, I added, "...like talking to someone you trust."

I observed the man, his energy from earlier draining away as he finally revealed his true self. My earlier gut feeling had been proven true; he was indeed hiding something. I patiently waited for him to find comfort, hoping he would open up on his own. However, when he looked at me, I sensed reluctance about something he couldn't share, no matter how much he wanted to. I recognized that look—it was the same one I had seen when, after my mother's death and my father's collapse, I was suggested to undergo sessions with a government therapist. The reluctance, the fear of judgment, the metaphorical wall separating oneself from the inner demons—all of it was familiar to me. With that understanding, I offered a lifeline.

"You know, I never told you the question you asked this afternoon—what's with me and the hospital halls," I chuckled lightly, attempting to lift the mood and ease my guilt. Taking a deep breath, I continued, "When Mom got sick, I was just 12. I didn't even know what was wrong with her." Glancing at him, I could see his sincere self absorbing every word, heart to heart. "For a year, she told no one, and, well, Dad wasn't around much. But I could tell something was not right with her—her behavior, her breathing, her habits. All of it felt so foreign. It didn't feel like her at all. Then, all of a sudden, after a year, all the servants were let go by my father, and she was admitted to the hospital. Until her treatment, I wasn't even allowed to see her, for almost a year."

He gently patted my head, bringing it against his shoulder, his warmth calming my nerves. Softly, he cooed, urging me to let go. "For almost a year, I used to come back to an empty house, feeling helpless, blaming myself for not noticing her deteriorating condition. But I could do nothing but cry," my words choked in my throat. Somehow, though, I felt a sense of relief in sharing, letting go of the burden I had carried for so many years. With just empty walls as my companions, I had never shared these intimate details from the depth of my heart with anyone else.

"When she finally was cured, I went to see her—she looked nothing like her former self but felt way more like the mother I had come to love and adore. For the first few months, it felt like maybe God had listened to my pleading, and all those nights filled with nightmares were worth it. But then, it started slowly and subtly. She moved to become a woman I never knew she could be. Her focus shifted from the world and her footing in it to the spiritual realm and my welfare after she was gone," I sighed, realizing that now I was fully engulfed in his warmth, signifying a tear. I continued, "When her therapy failed, it was the most brutal blow to me. To have something almost lost and then having that hope that I found it only to lose it forever, it...it..." He hushed my crying self, all my repressed emotions resurfacing as I cried in his arms.

After what felt like an eternity, I cuddled close to him, my tears now dried, as I admitted, "On the night she passed away, I was alone. My father had gone to fix some nonsense that didn't matter anymore. I felt like cursing the world. That night, I lost hope in God. That night, I felt like taking someone else's happiness..." He looked at me, disbelief written all over his face, so I corrected, "But I couldn't bring myself to." I sniffed, and we sat there in each other's warmth while I waited for him to speak.

~Alexie Ivanov~

I knew what had happened with Mrs. Patel, but I had never imagined the emotions Nari might have gone through during that time. All I was aware of was that the company was falling, and Mr. Patel did everything in order to balance his wife's condition and remodeling the company. However, in that whole equation, no one really factored in the feelings Nari, at such a young age, had to go through. The company truly fell apart after Mrs. Patel passed. On the night she did, Mr. Patel was so devastated that he botched an extremely important meeting, and soon after, most of his investors pulled out.

Hearing the raw emotions that Nari shared, I realized that we had formed a bond, one that would require me to reciprocate her emotions. I understood what she wanted to know from me—my past, who I am beyond just an acquaintance of her father who was thrust into the role of her guardian overnight. To her, I was still just a stranger. No matter how many memories we created in the present moment, the foundation could never be solid without a base.

I had to give it to her—she was sharp, noticing my worries in an instant. But how could I tell her what was troubling me? Who was I, and what had I done to reach this point? In my heart, I knew that the line she spoke about, the monster she tried to keep tame and under control, had already slipped beyond any form of restraint. While she might consider me a kind, caring, sometimes funny guy, I was aware that the real Alexie Ivanov was a far cry from that. The nice guy she saw was just a pretense I carried around her. 'But I'm genuinely happy around her,' a small voice inside me cried, and soon enough, I diminished it.

So, instead, I opted for a memory that maybe both of us could relate to. I started caressing the fragile girl cuddled in my arms. "I was ten when I came to America, not in the most legal manner, but at that time, someone like me with nothing, being no one, I had no other way around. The person who made sure my tiny body could make it through the journey with all the comfort an illegal immigrant could buy with American dollars was taken care of by your father."

Nari looked at me, swirls of emotions evident in her eyes, sympathy so clear, like her thoughts, but she never voiced them. She understood that speaking those words aloud would only hurt my feelings more, and she was afraid. Truth be told, I didn't find my situation to be sympathy-worthy, as this was just the beginning. It was way better than what I was about to tell her.

Clearing my throat, I waited a bit for my emotions to settle, allowing past memories to surface. The half-full glass of whiskey seemed tempting, but I pushed my urges down and continued. "I met Doctor Patel, your father, when I was still in Russia in 2010. He had come for a conference on the upcoming cryptocurrency, and, well, let's say I was there too." Something in my heart walled up; confessing the next part seemed difficult, especially to her.

A soft hand caressed my cheeks, lights startling me. I looked at her as she said, "Alex, you know I won't judge you. Just let go, break the dam of emotions that you have been holding up for so long."

My eyes widened at her words. Never would I have thought to break the wall that separated me and my wrong deeds, that somehow helped me differentiate myself from my demons. But something in her soft voice urged me, pushed me to take a hammer and swing it hard. And that's what I did, forming a dent on that solid concrete wall that I had built for the last twenty-four years.

Gulping, I took in a deep breath, pouring out my soul to her. "During those times when the recession took hold of many economies across the globe, Russia was no better. My dad and I had shifted from Siberia two years back, hoping to find something better to live. But everything failed in 2008 and 09. At one time, Dad had so much work yet not a single penny in our accounts. We were eating through our savings like rats, as the value of our money became less and goods became more expensive." I glanced at her, wondering if she still held the look of pity in her eyes. To my surprise, it was replaced by genuine interest. Of course, she was a business student, and the intricacies of economy and recessions intrigued her. But I could also tell she could imagine herself in those days, in those conditions, even though in reality she was far from it.

"At one point," I continued, "we could no longer afford decent living. My father's white-collar job could no longer sustain us, so he started doing what many people did at that time—found a blue-collar job. Even though he himself was a banker, it always hurt me to watch him put on a smile for me. School was a no-go for me, so he did his job in the morning and taught me at night. You could say we were satisfied in our little circle for a while."

I huffed, my hands seeking the drink, the sorrows and sufferings of those days resurfacing. I wanted to calm my nerves, but instantly Nari caught hold of my hand, her fingers intertwining with mine. It was a form of comfort, urging me not to turn to substances for relief in life.

"But that happiness didn't last long. As his shifts became longer and conditions became worse, the slums were no longer a safe place for a child of nine to be left alone. So, he started taking me with him for his job. One such job was as a cleaner in a research institute. On one of these days, the entire staff was excited to have a bunch of Americans speak about this upcoming technology—technology that would bring us common men out of poverty and onto the doorsteps of riches. It was cryptocurrency and its star, Bitcoin."

Nari nodded her head as she murmured deep in thought, "Yes, Bitcoin was discovered in January of 2009..."

"Yes," I added, "one of those Americans happened to be your father. Of course, from a financial background himself, my father was over the moon excited to listen to these lectures. Maybe he saw it as a way to get out of poverty, or maybe he wanted to leave an impression to build connections, I didn't know. All I knew was that on that day, he dressed up in his nice work suits after work and made me wear mine as well. He chirpily talked about this new and upcoming technology, especially meeting this Doctor Patel whom he had read many research papers about. Least to say, I was happy for him, and he was happy to meet his idol even though they were not that far apart in age."

"So when the lecture by Doctor Patel started, least to say we were on override—sorry, more like my father was. I, on the other hand, was just infuriated."

This surprised Nari, and she jumped slightly, questioning, "Infuriated? Why?"

Sighing, I looked down before continuing, "Call it a childish reason, Nari, but when he showcased the bitcoin mining model, the money, the things we could've had if we had that money infuriated me. What didn't help was my father's mood. You see, his English was extremely broken when it came to the other reporters and enthusiasts present in the lecture hall. Although his questions were extremely on point, him being more interested in the workings of the technology rather than the amount it brought in, the translations were taking too long. Soon enough, he was being cut off, his questions and ideas stolen by the ones who were bilingual, and just thirty minutes into the lecture, his mood was sunken."

"You see, Nari, I could tolerate everything in those times—hunger, the bickering, the cold, the poverty—but what I couldn't handle was the unfair treatment. In those times, my father went through equal treatment as others. When we lost all our savings, so did others. When we lost our house, so did others. But that day, that one lecture, I understood one thing. That one thing wasn't crypto. It was the anonymity one held by just having one thing in their favor—money."

I took in a deep breath, calming my stature from the high of emotions I had just poured out. I thought she would be judgmental of me by now, but what I saw was a curious child, a child indulged in a story, wanting justice to be served. But that's not how real life works. The unfairly treated one doesn't become a hero to save the world. In fact, I became a villain, set out to destroy it.

"What did you do?" she jumped in excitement.

"What a normal nine-year-old would do," I replied.

Her brows raised inquisitively, and I continued, "I showed some suck-ups their rightful places."

I snickered at her innocent curiosity. If only she were to realize how not so innocent that act was. "Okay, it wasn't that dramatic," I continued. "When the conference took a break, I just jacked the hardware system of the computer a bit, causing a data corruption. When Doctor Patel continued, it caused a massive panic among all the members for hours until finally, I showed up like a messiah to boot the system."

Pride laced her eyes as she murmured, "No wonder my father called you a prodigy child." However, I could also feel a sting of jealousy in her eyes. I wonder if she realized the intensity of my marvelous works, would she still be jealous? That twenty minutes of fail could cause a lot of loss of money, especially when it came to something like bitcoin mining. That much time sensitivity meant a loss of maybe millions.

"Oh my god, and then my father was impressed with you and agreed to take you and your dad along?" She chirped.

However, I didn't share her excitement and corrected her with a shake of my head. "No, not really, or at least not at that time. He thanked me and appreciated my father in front of everyone on the stage, but that was it. We just shook hands and were ushered out like pests. I, however, couldn't just go like that. The whole point, the entire purpose, wasn't just for a handshake. Heck, a handshake couldn't even pay our bills tomorrow. So, I urged my father to wait. I wanted to meet his 'idol' one last time. And when I did, I asked for another handshake and a photograph. While he posed, I slipped off his expensive Rolex, easily pocketing it." I glanced again at Nari, afraid of her horrified reaction, but somehow she didn't showcase that. In fact, maybe her visage carried a hint of understanding.

So I continued, "I didn't tell my father about this mischief, nobody. I had just planned to sell off the Rolex, get as much as I could on the black market, and tell an elaborate lie that the institute gave me prize money or something. What I didn't anticipate was that Doctor Patel came searching for me in the alleyways of the slums himself." I laughed a bit. "Truth be told, I was shit scared, but I couldn't call myself out. I wasn't that stupid. So I waited for him to open up. What he said surprised me and my dad. The man actually wanted to take me to the USA to pursue my studies. So for the next year, we did many things to cross the ocean legally, but the US-Russia relations weren't great at the time, and so it became almost impossible for me to go legally. So at ten, I had to cross the ocean all alone, first to Mexico, then from the Eastern side into the country."

I was tired by now, with no knowledge of the current time. I glanced at the girl curled up in my arms. Slowly, her body shifted as she patted my head in compassion. No words were exchanged between us, for I knew and she knew that none were needed. Now a part of us bared naked for the other's eyes. In my head, I glanced at the crack in the wall, wondering if maybe one day I could tell her what a monster I was. 'And maybe she might accept me,' I hoped.