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“You smoke?”
Here they were, Mischa Bachinski and Noel Gruber. They were sitting just outside St. Cassian’s, waiting for the rest of the choir when Mischa pulled out a cigarette and lit it. So of course Noel asked.
Mischa looked over, pulling the cigarette from his lips and blowing the smoke out, away from Noel, before answering. “Yes. Sometimes. Not a lot. “ He replied.
“What, like when you’re stressed?” Noel asked, with a tilt of his head.
Mischa fiddled with the cigarette in his hand. “Yeah, Something like that. “
As Mischa brought the cigarette up to his lips again, Noel spoke once more. It was fitting, for their type of conversation. “I’ve always thought smoking seemed so glamorous. They always romanticize it in the movies, but my mom would kill me if I tried. “ Noel explained, looking down. “ Plus, I don’t think i’d ever have the guts anyway. “
Mischa pulled the cigarette down, tapping it on the wall next to him like it was an ashtray as he blew out the excess smoke. Then he looked at Noel again.
“Y’know, you remind me of someone I used to know. “ Mischa spoke up. “The person who taught me to smoke. “
Noel looked up, there was this glimmer of hope in his eyes. Mischa wasn’t sure what that hope was for, but he knew he loved that look. “Really?” Mischa nodded.
His name was Artem. Mischa had always loved his name, and its connection to History, Mythology, and specifically the Greek Goddess Artemis. He was a fond memory in Mischa’s mind. They’d really only known each other for a week, but looking back on it…it was almost as if Mischa was in a romance movie.
His first boy crush… huh.
Mischa had just been entered into the system, and he had to wait a week in a home before getting sent off to Canada. And in that week, was when he met Artem.
Artem was cool. Dramatic in every way. Probably the gayest person Mischa had ever met up to that point. He lived for theatre. Maybe that was why he reminded Mischa so much of Noel. They were so similar.
Artem had been the one person in the system who’d seen him. Who saw him for who he was and became friends with him. He stood up for him against the other kids. He was flawless. He was…
“You really liked him, huh?” Noel asked as Mischa told him the story. Mischa chuckled, looking away.
“I didn’t realize it at time… but yes. I did. “
Mischa remembered the day it happened. Artem had tried to get the other kids to trust Mischa. Most of them smoked, so Artem had handed him his pack of cigarettes with a simple saying.
“It’s like an offering to the gods. “
Mischa wasn’t religious. But he knew a lot about history, and mythology. He knew what that meant. So, he took the pack, and cautiously walked up to the group of slightly older boys, holding out a cigarette to the leader. “Here. “ Mischa tried his hardest not to stutter.
The boys stared at him for a moment. “ You’ve been here three days and we haven’t seen you smoke once. “ The leader said, breaking the illusion Mischa had tried to convince them of.
Mischa looked between each member of the group. "Uh… I'd like to try. " Mischa spoke up, clutching his lunch close to him, hoping they wouldn't smack it out of his hands again.
"That's not how it works. " One of the quieter boys spoke up, taking the cigarette from Mischas hands and handing it to the leader. "If you want smokes, you gotta know how to smoke first. Don't want you wasting our cigarettes."
Mischa looked back towards Artem, who walked over and took his pack back. Then turned to Mischa. "I'll teach you. " He said, pulling a cigarette out of the pack. Mischa put his lunch down on a nearby table so he could pay attention to Artem.
Artem held the cigarette up. "Here. Put it in your mouth. " Some of the other boys chuckled, but Mischa was glad to do as he was told, putting the cigarette between his lips and watching as Artem lit it for him. "Now, suck In a little as it's being lit. "
Mischa followed his instructions to the T…but still ended up coughing and huffing in response, almost dropping the cigarette entirely. The other boys laughed. "Rookie Mistake!" Mischa didn't even know what he did wrong.
"You did great." Artem said with a smile. "Happens on everyone's first time. " Mischa couldn't help the sense of pride that rushed through him when Artem said that.
Artem took a cigarette out for himself, bringing it to his lips and lighting it. He made it look so cool.
"So, that's it?" Mischa asked, pulling the cigarette from his lips. It didn't seem that appealing.
Artem shook his head. "Nope. First of all, you've got to blow all that excess out. And of course, it is important to look very…" Artem paused. "Dramatic and deeply tortured when you smoke. "
Artem demonstrated, standing on a chair and taking a slow, dramatic puff. He looked so… cool. At the time, Mischa had just thought he majorly admired the boy. He knew now it had been a crush.
"How do I do that?" Mischa asked after Artem got down. Mischa wanted to do exactly that.
Artem smiled, and happily dived into his explanation. "When I inhale, I think of someone completely awful. Someone who's done something terrible. " He started. " And when I exhale, I imagine them getting torn apart limb by limb by an Ocelot!" He finished excitedly.
Mischa wasn't quite sure what an Ocelot is, but it didn't take long for Artem to dive into an explanation about that too. He'd even shoved a book into his hands. Mischa still had it, actually.
"Who do you imagine?" Noel interrupted the story.
Mischa hummed. He had to think about it. At first, this tip had been extremely helpful, but now? Smoking came second nature. He was used to it. Back then?
"Oh well, it took me while to get used to it. " Mischa responded. "Don't think it really started working until I started using parents and real bullies as examples "
That was a lie. But Mischa wasn't sure if he was ready to admit to Noel who he really thought about back then.
When Mischa followed Artem's lead and stood on the chair. The first person he thought of? His dad.
His dad was very much still alive. Even to this day. And he wasn't necessarily a bad dad either. But Mischa blamed a lot on his dad. His mother's death. Him having to move to Canada.
The man had cheated on and hurt his mom so many times and she kept going back to him because he was just so nice. Despite the fact he consistently neglected Mischa. When he put in the effort, he was a good dad, and a good person. He still sent Mischa birthday and Christmas money. But he just wasn't always willing to put in the effort.
So Mischa had thought of his dad. His father entering the house after another stupid one night stand when he was supposed to be taking care of Mischa, promising "I'll make it up to you next time, kid. "
The satisfaction that came with watching his cheating, promise breaking dad get ripped apart by an Ocelot was worth the idea of smoking.
"That worked!!" Artem exclaimed, wrapping his arms around Mischa and carefully lifting Mischa off the chair, causing Mischa to laugh.
"That's fascinating. Unbelievable, in fact. " Noel teased, nudging Mischa. "Are you sure you didn't just create the Ukrainian version of me?"
Mischa laughed, nudging him back. "it's true. I mean, we were all speaking Ukrainian, but, other than that, completely true."
Noel laughed in response, reaching down and lacing his fingers with Mischa's.
Whenever Mischa looked at Noel, he always thought of how he felt when he looked at Artem. Except more intense. More clear of what he felt. There was no ifs, ands, or buts about it.
And Micha was glad.