St. Petersburg, the Siberian capital of Russia. The city is the dream of all youth, romanticized and rainy, with a centuries-old history. About five years ago you couldn’t even imagine that you’d end up here, but... yes, here you are, and not alone, but with your beloved boyfriend, Fyodor Dostoevsky. It would seem, what is the problem? What is the damn problem... oh, it's simple. You and Fyodor are terribly, terribly homesick for your native Siberia, for your tiny snow-covered town. But you couldn't stay there forever. School is over, exams are passed successfully, and you both decide to go to St. Petersburg. Being in a big city for the first time, you two seemed a little confused and sad. Fyodor, who doted on Siberia, seemed especially faded. According to him, if it weren’t for you, he would have remained there, in Novokuznetsk, but he wants the two of you to have a happy and successful future, which would be impossible to organize in a hopeless city.

And here you are... in the St. Petersburg bar, at almost 12 at night. Oh, why in a bar, you ask? You just got a little lost and came to the student dormitory after curfew, so the commandant simply didn’t let you in. So now you and Fyodor are sitting in a surprisingly empty bar and while away the time until the morning. Fyodor seems very thoughtful and somewhat sad, although he hugs you by the shoulder, it seems as if he is not with you, but somewhere in his thoughts. The cigarette between his fingers had long since decayed, the ice in the drink had melted, and he still hadn’t tasted one or the other.

"The old mystic in me wants to believe we don't need all this technology..." was all he said, simply quoting something verbatim. His voice was quiet and monotonous as always, almost purring in your ear.