Russian Roulette

There was something about Vancouver, British Columbia that was so enchanting during the winter months. Despite the bitter cold and the constant precipitation, nothing could take away from the city’s beauty. The way the sunlight hit the untouched, white snow was breathtaking and at night the skyline was lit up in front of the tall, vast, Vancouver Mountains.

Sidney Crosby and Anastasia Ovechkin walked hand and hand down the streets of downtown Vancouver, away from the other athletes, the constant media attention, and the excitement. Here they could enjoy each other’s company without distractions and without Anastasia’s worry that her brother would find out what she was up to.

“So what’s it like in Russia, Ana?” Sidney asked, curiously, glancing over at the blonde from the corner of his chocolate brown eye as the two of them enjoyed the Canadian city’s scenery.

She smiled at the question, remembering her beloved home, but knowing that it would not be her home for too much longer. “It’s lovely,” she spoke, her mind rushing through her memories of the country on the other side of the world. “It’s very cold, but it is a one of a kind place; the people, the architecture, the culture,” she added on. “I’m really going to miss it.”

“So why are you moving to the US?” Sidney wondered, repeating his question from the day before at the hockey game before they had been interrupted. “If you love it so much, why move away?”

She pondered the question briefly, almost praying for another intrusion like the time before, but none had come. “I have family here,” she answered. “It has been difficulty hardly ever seeing them and I would rather be closer, even if that means leaving my home country,” Anastasia elaborated, her Russian accent thick.

Sidney nodded his head. “I can understand that, it sucks being so far away from my own family and they are much closer than Russia is to the United States.”

Her head turned to the left to face him. “В тридевятом царстве.,” she whispered, the very familiar Russian words slipping off her tongue with ease.

His faced puzzled in confusion, dark brown eyebrows scrunching together, both of them stopping where they were on the sidewalk. “What does that mean?” he inquired, his hand reaching up to scratch the back of his neck.

Brushing back some hair away from her face, she smiled softly. “It’s an old Russian saying. I think the literal English translation is something like… ‘In the three-ninth kingdom’, or something along those lines,” she tried to explain, but noticing his even more confused face, she clarified, “It’s usually how we start our fairy tales, you know, like ‘a place very far away’. I was just saying that Russia seem so far away from here.”

Sidney wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer to his body, unsure of what to say, but as he was struggling for the right words to say, he heard Ana’s cell phone go off, and he pulled away, allowing her to answer it.

Smiling apologetically, Anastasia glanced down at the phone to see that she had a new text message from Geno.

We’ve got a serious problem.

Anastasia frowned at the brief message, her eyes widening when she realized what he surely meant: Sasha knew about Sidney and her. She fought to hold an even breath, before quickly texting a message in reply, asking Geno what they should do now.

“Is everything okay?” the boy beside her asked noticing the panicked look on her soft face, his hand gently resting on her shoulder.

She nodded her head, opening the new text message from Geno after her phone went off again. Reading the message, she nodded her head to herself, before forcing a smile to Sidney, grabbing his hand, and leading him back to the craziness of the Olympic Village.

--


Evgeni Malkin was sitting on his queen-sized hotel bed when his roommate, Semyon Varlamov, came into the room, followed by their Russian teammate, Alexander Semin. Both of them briefly glanced over at him, but ignored him. The two of them were frantically talking in their native language, discussing something or another that had recently taken place. Evgeni attempted to resist rolling his eyes at what was almost definitely an overreaction, but his ears perked up when he realized the topic of their conversation.

“But do you think it was Ovechkin’s sister, Anastasia, or simply another girl by the same name?” Alexander Semin’s rushed Russian managed to get out as he closed the door behind him.

Semyon shrugged his shoulders. “I do not know,” he spoke. “There are probably a ton of girls named Anastasia, right? So what’s the point of worrying Ovie if its no big deal?” he reasoned, throwing his heavy jacket on top of his bed, before sitting on the edge of it.

Alexander pulled out the chair at the desk, facing his teammate as he took a seat. “But Ovie would be so pissed if he found out that we knew about it and didn’t tell him,” he pointed out. “Shouldn’t we at least confront Anastasia about it?”

His fingers lightly tapped the dark blue bedspread. “If she hasn’t told her own brother about seeing Crosby, what makes you think she would tell us?” Semyon rationalized.

Playing with the string on his jacket, Alexander let out a big sigh. “Well, besides Crosby and Anastasia, who would know?”

Both of their eyes flew to the one common friend Sidney Crosby and Anastasia would have. Evgeni Malkin.

Feeling their gazes, Evgeni looked up the papers he had been pretending to look over. He knew what they wanted him to do and he really wished he were a better liar. He should have stressed more to both Anya and Sid that should stay away from each other; surely it would cause nothing but problems in the end.

“So,” Alexander pestered, standing up from his chair and walking over to Evgeni. “Have you heard anything about Crosby and Anastasia?”

It was ridiculous, this whole thing, in Evgeni’s opinion. And perhaps everyone, including him, were making too big of a deal out of this. In a way, he knew he wouldn’t be able to blame Ovechkin, when, and if, he found out about Anya’s fling with Sidney; he was sure he would act the same way if he were in his shoes.

“So?” Alexander repeated when Evgeni did not respond. “Do you?”

His voice was different than what Evgeni was used to. It was worried, hesitated, like so much rested on his answer to Alexander’s question. It was like he was interested for more than just his best friend’s sake.

“No, I haven’t heard anything about it,” Evgeni answered, hoping for Sidney and Anya’s sake, they’d just believe him.

Alexander nodded his head, but his facial expression clearly showed doubt. With a few words farewell, he got up, and exited the hotel room, leaving the two-person room in complete silence.

Hastily pulling out his phone, Evgeni sent a very important text.

--

Evgeni sat alone in the hotel room, Semyon leaving long ago to do one thing or another. He waited patiently, the television lightly on, playing the latest Olympic event, Cross Country Skiing.

He wondered how long it would last before Ovechkin would find out. When it came to his sister, he tended to be pretty watchful and protective, as Evgeni has seen clearly in the past.

There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that his relationship with Anya was the main factor contributing to the destruction of his friendship with Alexander Ovechkin. Alex had warned him when they first met to stay clear of his sister, but the blonde haired, grey-eyed beauty was hard to stay away from. It was not unusual for her to rebel against her brother’s wishes; she loved him to death, but she was never one to be told what to do.

Anya was good at going after what she wanted. She was sweet and never wanted to hurt anyone else’s feelings, but once she set her mind on something, she was determined to get it.

Evgeni knew it would take a lot more than her brother’s disapproval to stop her from hanging out with Sidney if she didn’t want to, but at the same time, he knew it would cause a lot of problems between the men’s hockey Olympians if she didn’t stop.