"Lovers in the Snow-clad Garden". Tatu fan-fiction. A bit different from the others..

[Kate]

Okey. This fic is slightly different in orientation. It more or less resembles what I think really happened to Yulia and Lena during the journey of Tatu. First of all, the fan-fiction will mainly consist from the fragments of the novel by Viktoriya Platova, called "Lovers in the Snow-Clad Garden", which is a detective story based on Tatu. I am going to take out some good parts and translate them with Yulia and Lena's names so it'll be more obvious to you. Second of all, the fic is written from Lena's prespective. Here's the first part:


"Lovers in the Snow-clad Garden"

Chapter 1: The audition.

[Part I]

Yulia Volkova and Lena Katina, who would be interested in us if not for Vanya and duo “Tatu”? Yulia with her old grandma and old cat, who didn’t finish her musical school and was in a stupid child band, in which she didn’t even sing? Or me with my dad-alcoholic? I was in a band, in a different one, not the one with Yulia, and I had a very real voice, and my hair was very real too, colored like the setting sun - they were the bait that got Vanya interested. First, he was interested in my hair – long and red, a then in Yulia’s – short and black. Doesn’t get any better.

During the auditions we happened to stand together, Yulia and I, but I didn’t pay her any attention. Just like she didn’t pay any to me. At first. And why should we? There were 500 other sweaty-palmed and shaking girls just like us at the audition. There were at least three dozens of really beautiful girls, for God’s sake. I nearly left because of these three dozens, what chance did I stand against them? I probably would have left if one of the girls didn’t ask me for a cigarette. The girl was Yulia, but at the time I didn’t know that. We smoked together in the toilets of the shitty club in which the auditions took place. Smoked and exchanged a few meaningless phrases. At least we talked, nothing brings people together more then cigarettes smoked in a smelling toilet.

“Do you think I have a chance?” I asked Yulia, still not knowing it was her.

“Don’t even dream about it,” said Yulia, not knowing that it was me.

“Yeah, I understand the situation myself,” I am used to agreeing with everyone, with everyone about everything. A habit trained by my alcoholic-dad. Try not to agree with him, he’ll show you…

“If you understand the situation so well, what the hell are you doing here?” barked Yulia still smoking my cigarette. Bitch.

“What about you?”

“I’ve got nothin’ to do. Just chillin’.”

“Me too… just chillin’…”

“You’re funny... How old are you, funny girl?”

“Almost sixteen,” I was supposed to turn sixteen in three months time. “And you?”

Yulia ignored my question, she will ignored most of my questions in the future... my answers, too.

“So, almost sixteen, huh?” she inhaled deeply and released a perfectly shaped circle of smoke. Perfect circle – I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. “Do you know what will happen to you in ten year?”

I wasn’t interested in what will happen to me in ten year, but for some reason I decided not to tell that to this presumptuous, high cheek boned girl.

“So what will happen to me in ten years?”

“You’ll grow an even bigger ass and will look like a fat pig,” said Yulia after a pause. “Who recommended you to come, anyway?”

Bitch. I would have cried if not for my self-respect. I ignored Yulia’s comment. Just like that. I didn’t even blush in rage.

“I saw the ad on TV,” I answered shortly. “on the cable channel… Producer center 'Neformat'... 'Become a star'... And so on...”

“You shouldn’t watch so much TV...”

[Part II]

Yulia put out her cigarette against the window-still, threw what was lefty over from it on the floor and walked away towards the door. If I had something heavy handy, there’s no doubt that I would have thrown in at her... But there is not reason I should be mad at her, really. We are all competing against one another, so her behavior is understandable. Although, what kind of competition do I pose to those three dozens of mind-blowingly pretty girls?

The auditions were surprisingly easy. All we had to do was sing choruses from three different cheesy pop-songs, jumps to the rhythm of the playback and answer a few, in my opinion, irrelevant question. Behind the desk were the “judges”, and 18 year old guy in a stretched out pull-over sweater and him.

The leader.

Ivan Shapovalov.

Vanya.

My first impression of Vanya is blurry in my mind, unless you want to call the annoying pain in the back a first impression. If someone was afraid of Vanya – it was definitely my back. He could crush me with his gaze. And he did. Then he was lost in his thoughts, his face was covered with a week old stubble, his hair was carelessly styled, his eyes were lazy as well as his smile. His was wearing a stretched out sweater, just like his assistant. He had worn out shoes, but I noticed them only three days after this audition, when Julia and I became group “Tatu”.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you are interested, I'll post more...

[dare2dream28]

You’ll grow an even bigger ass and will look like a fat pig,” said Yulia after a pause. “Who recommended you to come, anyway?”

OMG! What a little rude, stuck up bitch! Thanks kat and heck yeah I want to read more!

[tatu_rocks]

sure katbeidar post the next part please

it's definitely different, and very interesting, I wonder if Lena would insult Yulia lol!

[Kate]

dare2dream28, tatu_rocks, good to know you liked it!! I though majority of you liked the fan-fiction to be to about Julia and Lena making passionate love in the sunset, so I figured this type of fic won't be popular. I'll try to cook the next part up for tomorrow, or maybe sooner. Meanwhile, check out Part II of Chapter 1.

[dare2dream28]

kat, it's nice to see something different. I love the tension already between them. I feel bad for Lena though, always agreeing with everything because of what happened to her as a child. Thanks for Part II of Chapter 1.

[Kate]

Added Part I and II of Chapter 2. I'm on fire. It's easier when all I have to do is translate the good parts of the book and just stick them together so it'll make sense in the context of Tatu.

Chapter 2. The group.

[Part I]

During these three days, my stupid chemistry teacher failed me during the daily pop-quiz, and I got a black eye from my jerk-boyfriend, Zhenya. Dad didn’t even bother to ask him how the auditions went. So be it. He is to busy getting drunk, anyway. Ever since his own music project failed, he and his bottle of vodka were inseparable.

While I was sitting in the living room, thinking about my shitty life, the phone rang. I cursed. It was probably Zhenya. Why wouldn’t he leave me alone? Where did I go wrong? God forbid he wakes up dad! I jumped into the hall way only in my personal safety considerations, nothing else.

“Can I speak to Lena, please?” Zenya’s voice sounded like he was choking.

“You again! I told you before... What the hell…”

The other end of the phone line went into a puzzled silence for a moment, and the phrase that followed was not at all what I expected.

“Actually, I’m calling for the first time. Can I talk to Lena Sergeevna Katina?”

Not it was my turn to be puzzled. It’s either Zhenya who decided to play some kind fo new trick, or…

It’s not Zhenya.

“So can I speak to Lena?” the caller asked again. I didn’t want to answer, but there was no other choice.

“I am… Lena.”

“Very good,” the voice sounded happy, although there was nothing “very good” in my answer.

“You think so?” I heard my self say in a bitter voice.

“You will think so, too, if I’ll tell you that you are speaking to the producer of duo ‘Tatu’”.

“So what?”

“My name is Ivan Shapovalov.”

“So what?”

“Tomorrow at 11am in the morning you are expected to visit the club, where the auditions were held. Room 34. Do you remember the address?"

“Address?...”

“Please don’t be late...”

Dammit... All the unpleasant memories rushed back: three days ago, in that smelly club packed with girls... the auditions... the bitchy dark haired girl... damn, damn, damn... “Do you think I have a chance?” “Don’t even dream it…” Don’t even dream it … Don’t even dream it. I wasn’t even dreaming! I forgot about this audition!

“Go to hell!” I braked to the phone’s short beeps.

Who would want to play such a dirty trick on me? Such humor... Although... No one knows that I went to the auditions. No one. Not one living soul. So, where did the call come from?
Ivan Shapovalov, the producer of the group, had a serious voice. Didn’t sound like a trick.
But I’ll go, what have I got to loose anyway?

[Part II]

I was near the club 12 minutes to 11. After the most horrible sleepless night of my entire life. Why not go and see, I tried to convince my self, all I had to do was get on that subway. The worst that could happen is that I’ll prove to myself once again that I am a total idiot. Snotty, trusting idiot.

That morning I put on my good old pair of jeans, and the only more-or-less nice sweater. But the black eye… The black eyed ruined the whole picture. I attempted to cover it with the skin-toner, but not with much success. So I topped off my look with a pair of sunglasses, which made me look weird since it was raining. No sign of the sun at all.
And I didn’t have an umbrella.

Not because I didn’t have one, but because I hated umbrellas. The only thing I hate more is dad.

In any case, I reached the club wet to the core. I told myself that sunglasses in the rain are much more then just sunglasses. It’s all about style.

The name of the club was “Ninth 5”. A shitty name, just the place to hook up with the wrong crowd. It proved itself when I saw that black-haired bitch near the entrance – the one that insulted me during the auditions. The bitch was with an umbrella, and not alone, but with a guy. The guy was holding the umbrella to cover her head. I have to admit that he was hot, just like most of the guys like that bitch get: tall, dark-haired, dark-eyes with broad-shoulders. One of those guys that were literally covered in muscles.

The guy made an upsetting effect on me, making me jealous of that annoying bratty girl who bothered to bring as guy. He was there for support, it was obvious. But what were they doing near the club together? Maybe they came for the same thing I came for?...

I had no choice but to approach the pair and start a conversation.

So I did. I came up to the perfect pair of airheads with the most innocent and happy smile in the world.

“Hi,” I said to the arrogant brunette. “Recognize me?”

It took her more than a minute to turn her short-haired empty head to me. Another minute was used for the struggle to remember. She tried to remember almost to hard.

“Do we know each other?” she finally squeezed out, clenching her boyfriend’s hand.

“We smoked in the toilets together. Three days ago. Don’t you remember?”

“In the toilets?” she wrinkled her nose. I could feel she wanted me to get lost.

“Before the auditions...” I continued to press on.

“Sorry, can’t recall...What are you doing here?”

“Room 34,” I almost sang the answer. “You’re not here for the same reason?”

I would have given anything to have a camera in my hands right then! The surprised look on the face of the bitch was priceless!

“You?” she exhaled.

“Room 34, 11 o’clock, don’t be late...” I added. I was so happy at that moment, that I regretted not having Zhenya there.

Only because I didn’t want to experience my moment of triumph alone.

“You? You, too?” she couldn’t believe, obviously.

“Ahuh. Me. The one that’ll look like a fat bog in ten years,” damn, I didn’t forget what she said to me in the toilets. Didn’t forget at all!

“No, I knew it!” she said to her boyfriend. “It’s all a trick! And a very dirty one at that...

Which one of your friend could have done it? Think!.. We actually believed them...

But thinking was obviously not the strong feature of the poor guy. He wrinkled his forehead, moved his eyebrows up and down and said:

“Yul... Uuuummm... Don’t be silly... Hmmm... Who would dare to play you like this, think about it! Aaaaahh... Not my friends for sure, you know that..."

Huh. Yulia. So her name is Yulia. Good.

“You do what you want. I’m going in...”

Squeezing through the pair of “love-birds” I disappeared in the seedy club.

I found the room 34 on the second floor. Under the old, worn out number plate was a new, shiny plate that said “Tatu”. It didn’t give me any confidence, especially when I heard men talking behind the door. There were at least three men in that room.

While I was standing in front of the door, considering whether to go in or not, I heard footsteps at the end of the corridor. It was clear that bitch Yulia finally decided to stick her nose inside the room, too.

I knocked on the door, and without waiting for a reply, walked in.

[[Part III]

The room wasn’t big, just two tables, two arm-chairs, a few chairs lined up along the wall, an old piano and a leather sofa. The young guy I saw during the auditions was seated on the sofa. Near him was seated an older looking guy in a suit with a tie and glasses. Аn unattractive woman with lots of piercing set in one of the arm-chairs. I couldn’t help staring at her: two eyebrow piercings above her right eye, one above her left eye, a pierced lip and a small stone in her nostril. Impressive. Should I make a few holes in myself? Yeah, right!

My attention was so consumed by the woman, that I hardly noticed “the leader” who set near the table. The one that my poor back was so afraid of.

“Lena?” said the leader.

He had a deep, relaxed voice. It was more of a trap, then a voice. And I was trapped.

“Like, yes. Lena,” I said sheepishly.

“Very good... Please, come...”

He didn’t have time to finish: the door squeaked slightly behind me, I felt the brunette’s breath on my neck. The leader’s gaze switched onto her.

“And you are Yulia?” asked the leader.

“I suppose so...” she said in a low voice.

“So... Come in, sit down. Over there...”

He gestured to the chairs along the wall. The chairs immediately became electric chairs in my mind. I set down first, Yulia followed my example: we set there two chairs apart, not even looking at each other. The four people in the room looked at us with a lot of interest. Self-importantly and mockingly, like at girls on a line-up.

“How do you feel about the girls?” the leader asked his assistants.

“Y-yep,” answered the older guy. “Talk about choosing randomly. I don’t know, Vanya. You decide...”

“Exactly,” Vanya’s nostrils flared. “First of all, I decide. And second of all, you can only trust chance in this life... Elena?”

The woman in the arm-chair shrugged.

“One - redhead, another – brunette; one – long hair, another – short hair. I get the idea, Vanya, but it’s too straightforward... And the project... We talked about it... Individuality is very important... I can’t smell any individuality here... At least, in my opinion...

“Go f*ck yourself,” said Yulia all of a sudden, shooting an angry gaze at the woman. “Image advice coming from you? I can stick even more f*cking metal onto my face then you did... Even into places you’ll never see... And my individuality will stink like a f*cking dumpster! You’ll smell it then, trust me!! Dammit...”

Yep! The bitch bites, so don’t stick your finger in her mouth! I looked and Yulia with admiration – for the first time, honestly.

“I’ll leave the decision up to you, Vanya,” said Elena who suddenly went all white, obviously caught off guard by the rudeness from a snotty child. “It all comes down to you.” Vanya laughed, showing off his yellowish teeth.

“So, you say there’s no individuality? Personally I think it’s overflowing. You agree, Yulia, right?”

“Sure as hell,” realizing that Vanya took her under his wing, Yulia got even more confidence.

So, now it’s my turn. Yulia convinced Vanya, now it’s up to me to show some individuality. Holding one finger to the nose-bridge of my sunglasses, I started by saying:

“Should we take our clothes off? So you can assess the goods in plain view?"

Vanya chuckled:

“There’ll be an opportunity, Lena Sergeevna. You can start by taking off your glasses...”

My black eye suddenly sent a pain signal to my brain, reminding me of it’s existence. Shit! Of course, I can say something foul like Yulia, but that’s over the top. I can’t take a stand without knowing the real reason behind this meeting... Nope, I can’t do it Yulia’s way.

“They don’t bother me,” I said cunningly. Inside I felt like a block of stone.

“Still, take them off. I want to look into your eyes... Or is this all part of you style?”

“Precisely. Style,” I was thankful to Vanya for unknowingly giving me a hint.

But he got up from his chair, walked across the room, and kneeled down in front of me. He looked at me for a long time. Top to bottom. For so long, that I could feel that my whole face was on fire...

“Style, you say?” he whispered.

“Ahuh...”

I saw him this close for the first time. From his bolding head to his old shoes. His eyes sent a clear message: "One step to the left, one step to the right - and you’re dead. If you’ll play games with me, I’ll squash you!"

“Style, huh?” he repeated again.

“Yep,” I nodded, mesmerized by his eyes.

“Remember this, maggot. It’s shit, not style. You’ll know what style is, soon. I promise. Understood?”

“Understood...” Was that my voice? Crushed, barely audible...

“This goes to you, too,” Vanya turned to Yulia, who set quietly now. “Don’t even think that you are the center here. You’re nobody. You’re nothing. You're the shittiest shit.”

“You are...” started Yulia, but Vanya’s raised eyebrow brought her back to her senses and shut her up.

Tense silence took over the room. It was broken by the young guy in the stretched out sweater.

“Vanya, enough. Can’t you see that you scared the shit out of them...”

“Did I scare them?” Vanya displayed a kind smile on his face. “I didn’t scare anyone. The girls are golden. I’m sure we’ll get along fine. Okey... Let’s go eat in something... Any objections?”

He surveyed the people in the room with his eyes. I wasn’t objecting, and nodded, ready to go. Only Yulia bit her lower lip.

“You see… ummm”

“Vanya,” reminded her the young guy.

“You see, Vanya... I didn’t come alone... My boyfriend is... behind the door... Maybe...”

“Behind the door?” Vanya sounded unnaturally excited. “I think he should stay there. Behind the door. Starting from today.”

“How’s that?” asked Yulia, obviously not getting it.

“Just like he’s now. Besides, we can discuss this during lunch. Let’s go, girls!”

[Kate]

Just added Part III of Chapter 2. Hope you like. I'm off to bed...

[dare2dream28]

“Image advice coming from you? I can stick even more f*cking metal onto my face then you did... Even into places you’ll never see... And my individuality will stink like a f*cking dumpster! You’ll smell it then, trust me!! Dammit...”

LOL! I could *so* see the real Yulia firing off like that.

I felt bad for Lena though...when she actually tries to assert herself by not taking off her sunglasses, she's once again 'put in her place' and made to feel like shit. No wonder the girl is always doubting herself.

Can't wait for the next update!

[haku]

Interesting story katbeidar, please continue.

[Kate]

Chapter 3: The deal.

The restaurant was called “Offside”, it was hardly a restaurant, more of a stinky café – the last resort for football fans. Although I didn’t see any football fans at the time, and football-shirts with numbers, flags and team decorations looked rather lonely. Even the waiter looked lonely, after taking Vanya’s small order: two stakes with French-fries, two glasses of orange juice and a bottle of cheap Moldavian wine “Fetyaska”.

Vanya passed us the glasses of juice, and poured himself some wine - nothing more was expected from this greedy unshaven goat.

He raised the glass and looked at us through the cloudy liquid.

“Sooo, to you girls!” he a bit overdid the excitement in his voice. “To duo ‘Tatu’.”

“Duo?” Yulia nearly chocked on her orange juice. “Are you saying that she and I are a duo?!”

“Yes,” Vanya smiled. “That is exactly what I’m saying... Is there something wrong?”

“I suppose not... But...”

“Starting from today you should forget the word ‘no’, brat. Starting from today you should only say ‘yes’. And if I tell you to part your legs right there on the stage, you’ll tell me ‘yes’.”

Yulia put down her glass of juice, and her hands held on to the side of the table as though it will save her life. You don’t have to be a psychic to know that in a second she’ll be out of this cafe.

“You want to leave?” Vanya asked kindheartedly. “Before you find out what awaits you in the future?”

He knew how to intimidate, bastard!

“What is waiting for me in my future?”

Yulia turns out to be an ordinary curious girl. I was a curious girl, too, and I also wanted to find out what awaited me in the future. Besides a huge fat ass together with the consequences of having one.

“In the future... In the very near future... Fame awaits you, maggot. Such fame that our home-grown show-business never dreamed of... Fame, money, independence...”

“What about a villa on the outskirts of Moscow?” tried Yulia.

“What about a villa on Hawaii? Even on the Hollywood hill. Do you I have to continue or will you go to hell?”

Yulia didn’t like being broken.

“Hollywood hill, you say... I’ll sit on the Hollywood hill and smoke "North Star" cigarettes...”

She was right on! Only now I noticed the pack of cigarettes Vanya put on the corner of the table, together with the lighter. "North Star" – only smoking paper will be worse. Even my dad didn’t go that low.

“You could have smoked something else...” Yulia pushed on. “At least could have gotten “Parliament” for the presentation. We are talking about future fame, aren’t we?”

“I have you maggots for my presentation... Even though I have “Parliament”, too,” Vanya produced a squashed pack of “Parliament” cigarettes from his jeans pocket, with a mocking smile on his face. “Do you want me to continue or what?”

“Go ahead...” with some kind of magical gesture Yulia produced a slightly squashed pack of "Davidoff" cigarettes and shook out a ciggy.

So Yulia won the first round. But she clearly lost the second round, when she put the cigarette in her mouth and eyed Vanya for a light. Vanya refused to give her a light, demonstratively ignoring her.

“Take that shit out of your mouth, idiot,” he said quietly. “You won’t be smoking. At least in the next few months. Now give the cigarettes to daddy. Forbidden goods will be confiscated in favor of the producer of project ‘Tatu’, Ivan Shapovalov, aka me...”

“Project… yeah, yeah...” Yulia couldn’t keep her mouth shut, watching her “Davidoff” cigarettes disappearing in Vanya’s pocket.

“Exactly - project. It’ll be the most successful project in the history of Russian show-business, I promise. But first, let’s walk about you. You are the project.”

“So what’s the project about?” finally I got a chance to say something.

“Duo ‘Tatu’. How do you like the name?”

Yulia shrugged, the name evidently didn’t spark anything for her.

“Do you know why I chose you brats?”

“Why is that?” I heard myself ask.

“Not because you have great voice, for sure... You voices are so-so, let’s face the truth. Nine out of ten have voices like yours. To top it off, you yourselves don’t even represent anything. Teenagers, like many others. Any other two teenagers could have been you right now, and nothing would have changed.”

“So?” Yulia rolled her eyes. “Why are we here, and not someone else?”

“Because you look great together,” simply answered Vanya. “Trust me on this, I did study three years of psychology before they flunked me.”

“For being unprofessional?” asked Yulia, looking innocent!

“Of course not... On the contrary,” Vanya avoided the question. “It’s not the point. You two are ideal together. But apart you are just two ordinary teenagers. So stick together, only then you’ll make an impression...”

“And who are we supposed to impress?”

“The idiots who will pay for your shit. We’ll show them the full program. As you can see, I’m very honest with you...”

“Why?” Yulia liked torturing Vanya, it was clear as day.

But Vanya wasn’t easy, not easy at all. It became obvious when his eyes flashed with black fire. He leaned across the table and caught Yulia’s chin.

“Because, you’ll sign the contract today. And I’ll make you famous...”

Yulia didn’t even try to break free. Poor thing. I didn’t want to be in her shoes at that moment.

“I will make you famous. Of course, you can refuse. Go back to your grandma. Back to your boyfriend, sit your shitty exams until they fail you…”

Without letting go of Yulia’s chin, Vanya turned his snaky head to me.

“You can go, too. To your drunk dad... He’s the only one, right? Am I right?!”

Shit! He managed to get some information about us in the past three days... Not just any information. Something he can pressure us with!

“I wasn’t planning on leaving,” I muttered.

“If she’ll leave, you’ll leave, too,” persuaded Vanya. “I’m not interested in you separatelyе. No one is interested in you separately... I need you both. Either both or neither.”

“I’ll try,” Yulia replied quickly. “Let go...”

“Much better...”

Vanya let go of Yulia, leaned back on his chair and lit a "Davidoff" cigarette.

“Who were those guys? With you?” I asked. “I mean, in the club…”

“My team. Talented people. You know Alex, the guy with glasses, and the woman writes lyrics. She’ll manage your PR as well...”

“PR... I see...” interrupted Yulia. “What about the young?”

“You should pray to the young guy... He’s the god of composition, god or arrangement, only writes hits...”

“Is his last name Krutoi, by any chance?”

“No, not Krutoi,” laughter Vanya. “It’s Galoyan. Sergei Galoyan.”

“I see,” Yulia narrowed her eyes.

“So, you understand? Now, about you... Do you know each other?”

“We had such pleasure, yes,” said Yulia for both of us.

“And how did that go?”

“How - what?”

“Do you like each other?”

“Is that important?” my question was pretty neutral. Polite and neutral.

“It’s not just important – it’s vital?”

“We’ll see with time,” Yulia tried to sound smart. “I can’t say that I’m fond of her at all...”

“I’m not exactly over the top happy either,” I fired back.

“Stop, stop, girls,” laughed Vanya. “You have to love each other starting now. Otherwise the project will fail.”

“Ahuh... They loved each other like sisters...” Yulia suddenly kicked me under the table. “What’s your name, sister?”

“Her name is Lena. And you love should go deeper then sister’s.”

“What’s that now?”

“I’ll explain later. So, are you ready to wake up famous?”

“Don’t forget to set the alarm,” winked Yulia.

Vanya laughed at the joke.

“I won’t, I won’t. It won’t be just an alarm, it’ll be a time bomb... I promise...”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To be continued....

[Ann t..A.T.u.]

cool. hmm they hate each other man

[haku]

Originally Posted by katbeidar

And if I tell you to part your legs right there on the stage, you’ll tell me ‘yes’.

LOL, i suppose this line is a reference to this picture...
"Yulia, get on the table, spread your legs, and smile!" Vanya said. And Yulia said yes.


Thanks katbeidar.

[Kate]

Some pretty emotional stuff is comming up, guys. Get your Kleenex ready...

haku,

[dare2dream28]

I like it. Thanks for the update again kat and can't wait to read more!

[Kate]

Chapter 4. The explosion.

[Part I]
...The time bomb went off exactly three months from that day.

Those three months completely changed out lives. So much that I couldn’t even remember my life before “Tatu”. I wanted to forget and I did forget. School, Zhenya and dad were all a nightmare, a torn ticket from the movies, which I threw into the rubbish bin. The project was the core, a crazy project, that only could have come from the mind of a crazy man. Only now, when I look back at it, I can feel the chill, the coldness of the project. Only now I can see its frozen beauty.

Vanya was a genius.

He really was.

He made me, he also made Yulia. He made us different.

I didn’t know much about Vanya. I got to know him later, much later, in between endless tours, recordings of songs and videos; in between short gaps in the hate that Yulia and I shared, that kind of hate that is stronger then love, it forced us to hold onto each other.

Vanya was an unfinished historic, unfinished psychologist, unfinished operator, the only qualification he actually finished was some “institute” in Nikolaev – “director of celebration events”. How he came to know tycoon Pinegin remained a secret. Also it remained a secret how he got Pinegin to give him one hundred thousand dollars to promote the project. The sum was worthless in show-business, I realized it later, after being fried on show-bizz pans for two years. The threesome that followed Vanya into the project was also unqualified. Our song writer, Elena, was always high; and our compositor Sergei was a quiet schizophrenic which seasonal variation during which he had to be admitted to psychiatric facilities. The only neutral person of our group was Alex, a short, young guy with intestinal cancer.

So, the team behind “Tatu” consisted of a heroin addict, schizophrenic, and a crazy genius.

[Part II]

After finishing our lunch in the stupid “Offside”, we returned to Room 34 in the club. The team was still there. Elena lied on the sofa, Alex sat on the window-still, and mad Galoyan was torturing the old piano.

No body even noticed we came in. Except for Elena, who was muttering some poem, made up of rude words, under her breath. Later it was explained to me that Elena liked to make up small poems when she was high, it was like a hobby.

“So what happened?” asked Elena. “Did it go well?”

“Couldn’t have gone better,” replied Vanya. “The girls are great.”

“Ok, ok... Did you tell them about the plan yet?”

“The plan?” Vanya scratched his stubble angrily. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, shell we...”

“Why not? There’s nothing wrong with it... It’s not like we’re asking them to f*ck with monkeys... Everything will be very cute and even erotic... M-m-m...”

“It’ll be better with monkeys,’ smirked Sergei. “It’ll be much better with monkeys, in my opinion... Perverts...”

“You’re the pervert,” giggled Elena. “You’re the monkey, Sasha... [Sasha is a short name for Sergei – note from author.] You don’t know shit about erotica. Not to mention homo-erotica... M-m-m...”

“I’ll tell you what, ladies and gentlemen,” Vanya interrupted the debate. “Let’s not scare the girls before we need to.”

“What’s going on, anyway?” Yulia cut in, previously just quietly listening to Elena and Sergei. “What’s the debate all about?”

“Nothing...” Elena pursed her lips. “Nothing... Oh you, my sweet little nymphet... Uti-puti...”

“What’s with her?”

“Auntie is joking,” said Vanya calmly. “Don’t mind her, she’s not herself, but she can be good and nice... Sometimes... She only wants what’s good for you...”

“Yeah, yeah...” continued Elena. “Soldiers don’t hurt children!”

“Shut your pie-hole,” said our freshly baked producer with empty kindness in his voice. “And besides...”

“What monkeys are we supposed to f*ck, again?” Yulia wouldn’t let go of Elena’s phrase like a puppy won’t let go of an old slipper.

“Not with monkeys, with each other!” after this phrase the room felt silent. Even Sergei stopped agonizing over the piano.

“What?” asked Yulia. “I didn’t get it...”

“Get up and leave,” Vanya said to Elena in a low, angry whisper. So angry that I felt a shiver go down my spine.

“Oh, look, someone is overly sensitive...” purred Elena, but she did lower her feet to the floor.

“Get out!”

“Common, Vanya... So what? There’s no need to act like a virgin here...”

It was obvious from Vanya’s dead-white face that somehow Elena ruined it for him. Ruined all the strawberries. Ruined the whole strawberry bush that he grew, watered and cared about.

The conversation for that day was over, on the day that followed we signed a three-page long contract, - not even looking at it. Even if we did looked at it, we probably wouldn’t have understood the terms anyway.

Vanya spent 24 hours a day with us.

After we signed the contracts, right there on the balcony of Room 34, he opened a bottle of champagne, he gave Yulia and I a paper cup each, and poured us the cloudy liquid.

“So, to you two, girls. To project ‘Tatu’...”

The champagne flowed over the edge of the cup, Vanya poured generously. He was happy, he even shaved for this special occasion.

“To the bottom!” he told us.

“I don’t like champagne... My throat gets burnt by it,” said Yulia with a bitter expression on her face.

“Burnt, huh... Would bear be better?” Vanya licked his lips.

“Yes.”

“Bear is better. But for now you’ll drink champagne.”

“I won’t,” for prove her point, Yulia relaxed her fingers and the paper cup dropped onto the floor.

“You won’t?”

Vanya’s voice didn’t sound threatening, but rather curious. He produced another paper cup from his jacket’s pocket and poured some champagne. He gave it to Yulia.

“So? Let’s drink? Such an occasion...”

“No. I won’t drink champagne.”

“Yes, you will.”

Vanya’s cheek suddenly twitched. Even Yulia went all white. Only I, while sipping the warm champagne, felt almost safe. And… and I was on our producer’s side. Really, I only now realized that I was on his side. Suddenly I really wanted Vanya to slap Yulia’s arrogant, independent face, hit her teeth with his first, and even throw the cup of champagne into her face... So it’ll drip down her chin, onto her stupid second-hand T-shirt that said "Together in Christ".

Vanya and Yulia’s foreheads were flushed now. Everyone knew that if Yulia steps down right now, she’ll have to always step down. Always, always, always! And we’ll be equals...

“You’ll do everything that I tell you to do. You signed the contract. Starting now you listen to me.”

“What if you tell me to jump of a bridge? Or tell me to eat shit?”

“You’ll jump. And you’ll eat.”

“What if I won’t?”

“Then I’ll strangle you,” he said calmly, with no fury in his voice, even with a little gentleness. It was clear though, that he will strangle her, dare she go against his will.

Yulia got it, too. She lowered her head and kept quiet.

“I’m not starting the project so you’ll screw it up. Do you understand? You have to close your eyes and follow me. Believe in me.”

“Ahuh. Just believe and drink champagne...” Did I just say that?

Yulia looked at me from underneath her forehead. If her gaze could materialize, I would have fallen dead right there and then, killed by a sequence of bullets from a machine gun...

“So, do we drink?”

“Just don’t think...” without finishing her sentence, Yulia drank her cup of champagne, her face twisted in disgust.

“Good girl...” approved Vanya. Then her produced two sets of keys from his pocket.

“Bring up your cups, ladies!”

We extended our hands, and Vanya dropped one set of keys into each cup.

“What’s this shit?” Yulia asked curiously.

“They are keys. To your apartment...”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To be continued...

[dare2dream28]

Oooo!! More more more!!! Can you imagine an appartment after Y&L have been in there? Sheesh it'd be torn to smitherenes! LOL!

[warx]

awesome fic kate....changing lanes eh!!!! u shift frm translating articles to fanfiction??? nice.... plssssss post more.....

[warx]

oh....sori bout that <------ my stupid fingers let me down again.....
again, im sori...

[Ann t..A.T.u.]

ooh post more this is excellent. poor yulia vanya has her beat down like a scowlded puppy

[Ningyo]

Originally Posted by katbeidar

I though majority of you liked the fan-fiction to be to about Julia and Lena making passionate love in the sunset, so I figured this type of fic won't be popular.

Never assume, hehe. Those fics tend to be repetitive and boring and not all of us like them... Thanks for translating and posting this.