Damn, I need to stop discontinuing my stories. I'm really sorry to those who wanted to read the rest of this. Maybe I will finish it someday, because I think this story marks a turning point in my high school life—going from being a yaoi fanfiction writer and an anime fan to being a writer who's purpose is to tell a story, not to just please the audience. I also realized my love for first-person narrative.

It took me a long time to decide this, but for now, I'm leaving this story where it is to work on my other one, The Red and Gold Ribbon, which is also a new step for me. I did a crapload of research on Soviet life and history for this new story and learned so many new things, and I plan on learning much more in the process of writing it.

Like I did with Aniki's Star, I leave you with the beginning of chapter 5 and my story outline.

- - -

—Five

My school locker looked strangely bare compared to the others. There were no magnets, no posters and photographs—nothing really, except the word "NERD" written in big thick letters with a Sharpie marker across the entire outside surface. It had been there for years before I was even assigned the locker, but I felt like it was written only for me.

School was one of those things I didn't think much about. It wasn't hard to pull off an A average as long as I did my homework every night. Well, I occasionally thought about the people in school, but not any more than I thought about my future. "High school is the culmination of life," Mark once told me. I think he told me that just so he could use the word, so I didn't bother to tell him he was using the word in a weird way. But I knew what he meant, and it didn't touch me.

I tried not to linger around the locker hall too much before heading straight for class. Mark was always late to school, but I feared that God might've had him come early just to spite me. It turned out I had worried for nothing—he still didn't appear five minutes after class started.

The eraser end of a pencil tapped me gently on the back the same way someone would knock on a door. It was Jessica. The teachers who assigned seats always placed her behind me because her name was after mine on the attendance list. Sitting in front of her in nearly every class for a whole year was simply torture.

"What?" I whispered.

She passed me a crumpled little piece of paper when the teacher wasn't looking. I didn't even want to open it, but she would probably have started attacking me if I didn't. In small and loopy letters completely different from the handwriting she used last week, it said: "Y didn't u and mark come 2 my party last fri?"

I stared at the note for a while, trying to decide whether to think about her ridiculous new handwriting or the message itself. Then I felt her tap me again—

Mark walked into the classroom looking like one of those pale mentally-unstable children in horror movies. We all just watched him trudge over to his desk and slump into his seat without glancing at anyone. He didn't even answer back when the teacher scolded him for being late again. I suddenly felt my insides tighten, like I had just eaten something incredibly bitter. At that moment, I pushed aside everything he'd ever done to annoy me. I desperately wished we could go back and start everything over again, from elementary school. Anything to change that moment and what I knew would come afterwards.

It was weird because I didn't even like Mark anymore. I just couldn't stand the thought of him being mad at me, even though it happened countless times before. Maybe that was what tore us apart—we stuck around each other for too long.

After a while, I found myself thinking about Ivan and Sharon and wondering if the same thing was happening to them. It was like watching a great tragic movie for the second time—I wanted to rewind and watch the happy part in the middle over and over again, picturing what was and what might have been.

I decided to voluntarily find Mark after class and talk to him.

- - -

—Outline

FIVE (continued) – When I talk to Mark, he doesn't bring up the party and neither do I. We talk the way we normally do, but the conversation feels more empty than usual.

SIX – It's a snow day and I'm glad I don't have to shovel the driveway because we live in an apartment building. I spend the day with Dad and Ivan for the first time in a while. We play board games like the way we used to, with made up rules. Ms. Blue calls later that day to remind Ivan his essay is due tomorrow and to ask if I can talk to her again sometime.

SEVEN – Mark comes over with a porn magazine. I don't want to piss him off anymore and Ivan seems engrossed in his book, so I let him flip through it while I do my homework. After Mark leaves, Ivan starts throwing at me whatever he can find and screaming that I'm "just like all the other boys."

EIGHT – I meet Ms. Blue in a local café as I promised. She asks me a bunch of random crap like how old I am and what I'm doing for a living now. I tell her I'm 24 and studying in medical school. I try to lead the conversation back to Ivan, but she keeps touching my hand and goes onto asking about my family. I quickly make up an excuse and leave.

NINE – When I get home, I find Mark and Ivan sitting on the couch together. Ivan whispers something into his ear and Mark nods gravely, like he knows everything in the world. When they see me enter, they scoot away from each other and follow me (knowingly, not suspiciously) with their eyes. That night, I dream that Ivan comes into my room and sleeps next to me, like he used to when we were younger.

TEN – Ivan leaves for school early in the morning and I don't see him until that evening. I'm in my room because Mark isn't over and Ivan walks in quietly. He asks if I sometimes wish he were never born and I tell him "sometimes" to be honest, but it feels like I'm lying.

ELEVEN – I invite Sharon over to watch the cartoons she has on tape. Mark is there too, making sick comments. I obsess over the way Sharon laughs so honestly, the way she can pull on my arm and point to something on the screen without being flirtatious—no lies, no exaggerations, only pure childishness. When Ivan gets home, he pretends he doesn't see us.

TWELVE – I feel depressed throughout the entire next day and I can suddenly sympathize with the kid who drags himself around because his girlfriend just broke up with him. Later, I find Ivan sitting on the couch writing something. I ask why he doesn't write in pen and he says it's because they don't erase. I try to read what he's writing, but he bites my hand before I can take away his notebook.

THIRTEEN – I talk to Ms. Blue again in the same café. She asks me if I knew Ivan hadn't been doing his work. At first, I lie and say I'm too busy to help him. When she doesn't believe me, I admit he's been angry at me lately. I end up telling her how much it hurts that he isn't talking to me and how desperate I am to know what he's thinking and how I can make him happy.

FOURTEEN – Ivan is still not home by nine. Dad is worried. I call Mark (why, I don't know) to ask if he knew where Ivan was. I go outside to search for Ivan. An hour later, I give up and return home. Ivan is sitting at the kitchen counter with a knife in one hand and an apple in the other. I ask what he's doing and where he was. He says he's just hungry and he never left the house.

FIFTEEN – I come home the next day and find Sharon on the couch with Ivan, drawing anime elves. Ivan is almost done reading the book I bought for him. When I talk to Sharon, Ivan gets up and locks himself in his room. I ask if Ivan invited her over and she tells me she invited herself.

SIXTEEN – Ms. Blue calls again to ask why Ivan didn't hand in the latest project. I tell her I didn't know about it. She asks to meet me outside Ivan's school. Mark asks who called and I tell him it's no one he knows. He gives me a nasty knowing look.

SEVENTEEN – After school, I find Ms. Blue and she invites me over to her apartment. I feel awkward, but I agree anyway. Instead of talking about Ivan, she tries to have an intimate conversation. She tells me she's never met a man so purely devoted to his brother. When she becomes physically intimate, I quickly apologize and leave.

EIGHTEEN – I find Ivan flipping through stashes of porn magazines with a pair of scissors in one hand. There is a pile of cutouts next to him, all of naked men with short brown hair similar to my own. Mark is watching him calmly on the other couch. I ask what he's doing and Mark says he's finding himself—finding me. When I try to kick Mark out, he tells me not everyone knows exactly who they are like I do.

NINETEEN – Conclusion (undecided).