*Charlie's P.O.V *

After all Harry's hard work into my hair, Leo ruffles it back home. I slap his hand away, and he cracks up.

"Chill! I'm trying to tame it."

"You're making it worse."

"Fiiine." He pouts, dropping his hand. I chuckle, after which silence ensues.

"Charlie, where were you?"

There's the question. I stifle the urge to bite my nail.

"What have you done?!"

"Just, urr... trust me. I'm making progress."

"Progress?" Worry lines across his forehead.

I huff.

"Charlie, please -"

"Please, stop it."

That does it for Leo. He takes my books in one swift move, grumbling, "Ok, fine. What progress then? Huh? You're making amazing discoveries about what, how to die?"

I huff again. He considers my face for a few seconds and then drags my chair closer to the bedside where he sits.

"Leo, please don't be mad. I know you said we should move on, but I've discovered some things. There is a cartel, and I don't know what the other people are exactly, but urr, let's call them Yelstins. Your dad was hired by the cartel to kill a lady, but then he mistakenly went after Maria's husband since he's also Joe Yelstin. Urr, to save her spouse, Maria offered to be your dad's informant. She worked in a club that belongs to a guy called Andrés who works under the Yeltsins... just like Maria's husband, and... the Yeltsins seem to know everything, but they still trust Maria's husband... or maybe they don't care since she is dead anyway."

"Do they know my dad is dead?" Horror floods Leo.

I think about it and then shrug.

"If they do, I'm fucked."

"We," I correct.

He facepalms. "This is my problem."

"Ok, don't do that." I push his hand away.

"What?"

"That thing where you push me away, yet you ask me to stay, and it's just - what do you want?"

"This is not about what I want. This is bigger than us."

"What do you want?"

There's a pause.

"I'm the son of their enemy's hitman." Leo groans. "And Daddy can't protect me now. I hate him, but he fucking knew better than to give me false hope. He told me exactly what they do to boys like me and - trust me, you won't wanna go there with me."

There's a pause.

"You still haven't answered my question."

"Fuck you." He gets up. I shoot him a stern look, to which he blasts," I'll report myself. Happy now?!"

"No."

"Ok, ok." He scratches his head. "What do you want?!"

"To fix our situation."

"Charlie, have you not been listening? What part of 'we're fucked' don't you get?"

"You asked for what I want, not what you think will happen."

"Shut up." Leo paces. I calmly watch him until he sits. His knee jerks as he scrutinises my face.

I smile.

He shudders. "Don't do that."

"What?"

"That thing where you fucking smile as if you are fine and everything will be fine. Fine. Fine. Freaking awesome. Great. Splendid!"

"Maybe I learnt from you."

"Oh God, this boy is just - ARGH!"

"Is that a prayer?" My smile broadens. His gaze softens, but he doesn't move an inch. "Seriously, what is wrong with you?"

Seriously, what isn't?

"I cannot live with everything that happened buried inside. You must also feel that way, so stop pretending-"

"Again, this is not about me -"

"Leo, SHUT UP!" I snap.

His silence is deafening.

I don't know what is coming over me. He trembles. I grab both sides of his face and mimick him.

"'Daddy said this and that.' Your father is dead! I'm alive. I'm the one talking to you right now, not him. If I want to figure a way out for you, let me." I pause, wondering where I am going with this rant.

Leo glares, so I chime in, "In fact, stay out of it. Focus on getting Daddy out of your head," and storm out.

Heading downstairs, I boil some rice and sit in silence. Think. At least, I don't need to sneak around Leo anymore ... I guess. I don't have time for more quarrels. There's a lot to do, like returning Mordecai's purse -

Don't forget the birthday invitation, Charlie.

Yes... that.

The mere thought of it makes me want to rip my eyes out. Restraining myself, I look up, only to lock eyes with Leo.

"Please, let's stop fighting."

He sighs to that and comes downstairs, jogging off-beat to a ringtone. He hands me my device, and I gasp.

"Oh, Mia!"

*

*Mia's P.O.V *

Since landing in Moscow, I've been in a five-star hotel suite all day as Joe talks to whoever. When she finally leaves the suite for work, I call all my friends.

Noah, being my first call, asks me when I'll be back.

"I don't know."

"Oh?"

"Ya, I tried to translate a bit of what she has been saying, but so far, it just seems like she's tracking someone. Like a case or something, so we might be here a while."

"That's..." he sighs, "sad, but ya, I get it."

"How is Kean?" I veer off-topic.

"Ooh, she chills. They've all been having a blast. Especially the guy, urr?"

"Harry."

"Yeah, him. The competition sponsors want him to perform in Washington, but he is stringing the others along, so, ya, they're still spending a lot of time together."

I reckon a downward tone but Noah masks it with a sudden rant about Mrs. Peters' assignments.

After the call, room service provides me some vanilla ice cream and oysters for dinner. I eat till slumber takes me away.

Tomorrow ushers a happier Noah exclaiming, "he said he liked my Jordans!"

"Who?" I put our call on speaker.

"Ryan Reynolds. Who do ya think?"

Charlie.

"He asked for my contact, and my mind was like, 'You can take that and my oxygen.' "

"Noah, don't fall for his unintentional rizz," I chuckle. "He'll nick your favourite books."

"Oh, that actually sounds hot."

"Dude!"

"What?! " Noah laughs. "It's true!"

I shake my head. "Anyway, where has he been all this while?"

"You can ask him when he calls."

"When he what-"

Suddenly, an unknown number rings. It takes me a stunned moment to answer, but when I do, Charlie speaks as if someone is chasing him. He worries me further by asking for intel about Loré. My best guess is that he has found out about Autumn giving his bestie drugs or something.

Joe returns to meet me pondering.

"Are you ok?" She breezes. I nod, and she plops onto her side of our bed.

Silence settles between us until I say, "Will we return after you've cracked your case?"

"I don't know," she sighs, lying on her tummy.

I frown. "Why?"

"It's not that simple."

"Is it dangerous going back or something?"

"Don't worry about it."

Well...Ok, but, I need to go back see how Charlie is faring.

*

Thursday morning greets me with the sight of Joe talking to a scrawny teenager. She waits for me to look presentable before letting him into our suite.

"Anton, this is Mia. Mia, Anton."

The guy beams at me. Aside from his pointier nose and peach-dyed brows, he looks like us.

"Is he your son?"

"No," he answers for her in a thick accent. "She is boring auntie. You are little, eh, cousin, eh?"

Dude, you like, what, two years older?

"I wasn't so sure since you are brown."

Instantly, I check my skin. Joe grunts something, and he gapes. "Oh- oooOoh. Your papa was brown."

"Ya, dude." I cringe.

"Anton will take you to your grandma's house today," Joe sighs as if our interaction is embarrassing. I give her a sympathetic smile.

Forty minutes later in Anton's ride, it dawns on me.

I'm going to see my grandma?!

"Don't worry; she be happy to see you- And great granny too."

"Great granny?!" I shriek, "How old?"

"101." Anton smirks at that and drives out faster. If not for his issues with understanding me, I would have gone on and on till we reach my grandmother's house. When he says we're almost there, two security guards let us through a long path between acres of vegetation. I turn to Anton's window, and a freaking giant bear stares at me.

"That's Pompom," Anton quirks.

I deadpan. "Hell na."

He's lucky there are more bears on my side, else I would yeet myself out.

I'm here for a good o'l family reunion, not to get eaten.

As a roof emerges high in the sky, I flinch at the sound of ferocious barks. A prim man in all black waves Anton, then opens another gate. We enter yet another path, only this time, a garden awaits us. I see a perhaps six-year-old girl picking flowers like she's in a movie.

"Desi," Anton scoffs, "Little little cousin."

"Is she supposed to be out here alone?"

"Not alone."

As if on cue, a maid grabs her, and the girl giggles until she catches my gaze and suddenly runs who knows where. I see her again when we park among about eight Land Cruisers. Getting out first, Anoton tickles her.

She giggles and then turns to me. She tugs at my jeans, so I crouch down and say, "Привет, меня зовут Mia."

Despite my bad pronunciation, she understands I'm telling her my name and, hence, mentions hers. I grin, and she takes my hand. Following her with Anton closely behind, we pass the back of a wood shed only to meet the ivy-covered walls of a freaking mansion. I double for a good view of the towering balconies and large windows. An old lady looks down at me and squints.

"Granny Pom," Anton says, tugging me back. "You see her inside."

Indeed, as soon as we step into a spacious, empty hall, that lady appears, beaming ear to ear. Her goldilocks sway over her straight shoulders

"Hello dear," she utters in an impeccable tone, the type that instantly fills your ears and makes you want to be relevant to her suddenly.

I gulp. "H-hi."

"Oh, no need to be shy." The old beauty strides up to us as if her bodycon dress is not tight. I nod, and she considers me briefly before turning to Anton.

"Where's Joe?"

"Work."

"Everyone is busy now, huh."

"It's no like you don't overwork, Pom."

Overwork? I gape at our grandmother. Aren't you past seventy or something? You should be resting.

She chimes, "It doesn't matter. Shall we?"

Shall we what- oh she means let's go upstairs. I nod.

To emulate her gait will be a catastrophe, so I stay behind everyone. At the stairs' top, she lets Desi skip away. We make it past a couple of doors when an incoherent mumble halts us.

"Ma," Granny drawls. As she opens a door, I gasp. My great grandma's face is sunshine and war flashbacks in one; age spots, flabs underneath her furry coat, and wrinkles brandish her skin as though bearing witness to years of tears. Yet her mellowed eyes light up at us.

Her daughter rushes to embrace her. I feel like hugging her, too, but I stand awkwardly till my great-grandma points at me, mumbling something.

Anton smirks.

"Why? What is she saying?"

"She say you should be giving her great great-great-grandchildren soon."

Bruh. I cringe. If he's telling the truth, I don't know because her attitude completely switches at him. "I..I-Igo..gor-"

"Ma, that's not him," Granny chuckles, "Igor is in America."

"Huh?" Anton grimaces.

"Igor left for the US."

"Why?"

"Business."

"But his birthday -"

"Ay!" Granny shakes her head. "Dear, don't start to give me migraines like my children."

"Va... Alda..." Great grandma clutches her walking rod.

"Yeees, Valda's daughter. Her name is Mia," Anton nods eagerly and then pushes me forward.

I quickly recover to hold her palm. Her grasp is weak, yet she handshakes me with such warmth that I cry.

"Hi, hi, urr -" I laugh, and everyone joins in, albeit a greater struggle for the oldest of us.

Granny Pom muses, "She looks and acts like her. Remember when little Valda was helping you bake?"

My great-grandma nods, though she doesn't seem to understand.

"Speaking of baking." Pom turns to Anton. "You know what? Let's make cakes!"

"For?"

"For fun-" Pom cuts herself off to chirp, "No, no- for Igor's birthday. Quick! Call him to come back. We'll have a grand party for him and invite everyone so Mia can get acquainted with the rest of the family."

"Urr ok." Anton's energy mismatches hers. I, however, agree with her.

As soon as we leave the room afterwards, this smirky cousin of mine guffaws.

"What's funny?" I ask.

He shrugs.

"Huh?"

"Igor won't come, and Pom knows it."

"Who is Igor?"

*

Once settled in my new bedroom, I flip through the family album. There are so many pictures of a dozen people as if the family is larger than life.

"Great granny had fifteen kids. Four died in war. Granny is the oldest living one." Anton muses. I let him go on with his narration of the family line. He tells me Granny has four kids: Dolph, my mom - Valda, Joe, and Igor in that birth order.

"Uncle Igor can be..." Anton looks at space. "Overambitious? Yes, so, if he's outside for business, I doubt Granny can convince him to return."

"Sounds like y'all really like work, huh," I say, "What about Dolph?"

"That's my dad." Anton rolls his eyes. "He usually travels with Grandpa. It's been a while since I saw either of them."

I close the album. "Will they come if there's a birthday party?"

"Of course not."

I am about to ask why, but then realisation descends on me. "Your English has gotten better overnight."

"Wow, you noticed." He's caught off guard.

I say, "Mhmm," to which he yawns. "You looked mean, so I tested you to see if you would mock me."

Huh? "I'm not mean."

"But I saw your video."

"What video?"

"The one of you with a band. It was cool, but, like, you were pretty intimidating."

"Dude, it's a performance." I chortle, "Plus, my friend asked me to lose my shit like that."

Speaking of said friend, has he called me today?

"Why? You have to do something?"

"Kinda." I look for my phone. Checking my missed calls, I'm dismayed find out he hasn't. Noah and my bandmates called, though.

Eventually, Anton leaves for me to phone them back. We have a group video call where they all gasp as if they've seen a ghost.

"Oh my goodness, where are you?!" Dalia shrieks, tugging at her pyjamas.

"Moscow."

"We know, but like where exactly?" Kean squints.

"Ya, it fucking looks like a palace." Noah appears beside her.

"Are you guys in the same room at this ungodly hour," Kat scolds.

Kean shrugs. "Back to Mia. Where are you?"

"My new room."

Noah gasps. "Dude. Stay there!"

I grimace. "Huh?"

Kat laments, "do you know how much rent you'd have to pay for that space alone? Stay there and enjoy your folks' money."

I turn around and scan my enclosure. It's not as big as my great grandma's, but there is an organ at the left corner and the ceiling is too high up and there are chandeliers but I didn't realise all these because... the room feels empty.

They're right. Too much space.

"What about you guys?"

"We'll be around. Have you started school there?" Kean questions. I shake my head.

"You can make new friends when you start." Dalia reasons.

I don't like that idea at all. Do they know how I suffered to even befriend them?

Yet, they gush on and on about how I need to enjoy my new life, until slumber takes them out.

Charlie is asleep by now too.

So I wait. When tomorrow arrives, I dial him, but he doesn't pick up. I try again around midnight.

On the fifth ring, Charlie answers, "Oh, Mia!"

"Mhmm."

"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry I missed your call -" Some movement breaks the line. Fortunately, he returns soon enough to say, "How are you?"

"Good," I say. "You?"

"Same."

He doesn't sound like it, though. "You sure?"

"Yes."

"Can we make this a video call?"

"How do you do that?"

"Hold on," I do the needful, hoping he won't look sick like his voice. His forehead fills my screen after a few seconds.

"Charlie, I can't see your face."

"Huh?... Oh!" He props his phone on a drawer or who knows what. From my view, a camera and a basketball sit on an arranged pile of unfamiliar textbooks.

"You play basketball?"

"No, I'm staying at a friend's place."

"Oooh. Do I know him?"

"Yes and no." He smiles.

I don't know if I should like the sound of that, so I ask, "Who?"

"It's-"

"Charlie?!" I frown suddenly.

"What?" He flinches.

I point to the purse poking out of his backpack behind him. "Where did you get that from?"

It looks like... mine.