XVII. THE HOUSE OF THE LOVING TWINS
— My God, are you okay? — Mariam asked Salome anxiously as she ran up to the house. — You really ran away for me?
— Yes, — she answered, out of breath, tightly hugging Mariam, — I’m fine. I took my sister’s big plush toy and put it in my bed instead of me under the blanket. My parents fell asleep. In our room, where I live with my three younger sisters, there is a door to a storage closet, and recently I noticed that from there, if you push hard on the ceiling, a hatch to the roof opens. I climbed up, jumped down, and ran to you.
— You jumped from the roof of the house? It’s a one-story house? — Mariam asked in confusion.
— Yes. Don’t worry, I didn’t hurt myself. Our house foundation is uneven, and there is a hill on the inside. It wasn’t high at all.
— Why didn’t you go out through the front door?
— Because then the dog sleeping in the kitchen would start barking and my parents would wake up.
— And what if your parents find out?
— Well, they won’t beat me. They haven’t beaten me for a year now, my father only hits the little ones. They’ll yell, punish me, take away my money—nothing too terrible. My family is like that, I’ve told you a bit about it before. Two years ago my uncle used to regularly harass me, but then my mother sent him to prison. She, by the way, has cancer. Sorry for saying this…
— Hey… — Mariam said softly, gently stroking Salome’s shoulder. — Why are you apologizing? Don’t worry, my dear, everything will be fine. Tell me if anything bad happens again, I’ll handle it!
— You? — Salome asked in surprise. — You’ve known me for only one day!
— We met on a very unusual day. In the morning my boyfriend left me. He flew to another country, leaving me without a home. I went to live with my friend Emi. You saw me today when I was walking around in hysterics. Thank you. Because of you, I’ve already forgotten about it. We’re together.
— Yes, I’ve never had a boyfriend, but I understand what it means to be betrayed by someone close. I’m with you, Mariam. Yes, we’re together, — Salome said, taking her hand.
— By the way, are you into boys or girls?
— I’m bi, but mostly into boys.
— Me too, mostly into boys. Actually, no, probably fully. If I liked girls even a little, I’d be the happiest with my friend Emi—she’s beautiful…
— Salome, tell me something good about your life right now. Something you like, or are proud of, or something good that happened.
— Tomorrow is my birthday.
— Really? How are you planning to celebrate? — Mariam asked with interest.
— I didn’t think about it. I’ll go to school, then… maybe another secret night meeting with you? I’d already be happy with that, — Salome replied with a smirk. — Also, my Georgian language and literature teacher saw me drawing during a break and praised my art. She said I did very well, talked to me a bit after class—not about school, just normally. I really love her, she’s young, cheerful, and kind… all the other teachers aren’t like that.
— I also think you’re very talented! If you want, you can show me your drawings, I’d love to see them. And I promise I’ll give you the best birthday ever!
— How? Oh, I just remembered something else… Tomorrow evening, after we sit at the table, eat cake and everything, my parents are going to relatives in another city for a couple of days, and a aunt will watch us. She won’t care, she’s easy to trick, and the weekend is starting, so basically… I’m yours for the whole night.
— That’s perfect! You said you want to come to our concert, and we’re actually playing in a club tomorrow! It’s 18+, but you can get in—I’ll make sure of it as an artist. I’ll pick you up at nine, and we’ll go together, okay?
Salome was overwhelmed with joy, she couldn’t believe it:
— This will be the best day of my life! Thank you!
Suddenly she noticed her parents approaching with tired, angry faces.
— Go home immediately, — the father said sternly, pointing upward, then grabbed her hand and led her away.
— You come with us too, — the mother added, looking at Mariam. She paused to cough and collected blood in her palm, — you’ll explain what happened. And daughter, you have no clothes or money for two weeks. And I’ll think about your birthday—maybe I should cancel it, so you learn what happens when you sneak out at eleven at night!
Mariam, together with Salome and her parents, stepped inside the house. It was extremely cramped, low, and suffocating, with shelves and cabinets full of various objects, more like trash, yet everything was strangely clean and smelled of bleach. The house was self-built: the kitchen flowed directly into a small living room, and the living room into a children’s bedroom—a damp little room with two bunk beds, bare unplastered walls, and one table for everyone. A baby was crying somewhere.
— Who are you? — Salome’s father asked strictly, pointing at Mariam. — And what are you doing with my daughter?
— I’m Mariam, her friend. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.
— Where did you find my daughter? And how old are you anyway, you grown woman!
— I’m sixteen, I just always looked a bit older. And Salome herself wanted to meet me, we met on the street near your house.
— Alright, fine. Your parents are probably waiting for you too, go on, get out of here!
Mariam left their house with an unpleasant feeling in her chest. “It was like talking to Vakhtang,” she thought.
At home, Emi was still awake: she was working on a technical drawing for her university project. She kept bothering Fleya while sitting at the table:
— Why do you even want to become human?
— Because I was born wrong.
— Why wrong?
— The life of gods is empty and meaningless. I don’t want to live like this anymore! I hate it! — Fleya screamed, slipping into hysteria.
— You can live however you want. Calm down, please, — Emi stopped, seeing Fleya crying, and placed her hand on her chest. — You’re living with us right now, everything is fine, maybe later you’ll find others…
— You don’t understand me. As long as I am in this body, in this horrible, ugly organism, I am doomed to eternal suffering and loneliness! I can’t be a stranger in this world anymore!
— You’re not ugly at all! You’re very beautiful, Fleya. I’m sure almost anyone would want to look like you.
— I will still try to become human. Someone will help me! I can’t live like this anymore!
Fleya turned into a sobbing pink ball with her wings spread out.
Mariam came back.
— Emi, Fleya, come downstairs, let’s at least have dinner! — she shouted.
Only Emi came down; Fleya stayed in her room. They sat at the table, quickly ate the pancakes left from the morning, then went back to their rooms and fell asleep.
The next day. Emi at university. A huge lecture hall with a curved shape, white walls, and long rows of seats. The entire course was listening to a lecture.
— You’ve probably seen this building while taking the metro overground section to the university, — the elderly lecturer said in a hoarse voice as a projector slid down from the ceiling, showing a photo. — This is the most important example of constructivist architecture in our city, the “House of the Loving Twins.” Why is it called that? We see two identical high-rise towers made of grayish-yellow concrete. They are connected by a passage: this semicircular structure hovering above the ground leads from one section to another. There used to be a beautiful greenhouse and a gallery with avant-garde artists’ works. The building was constructed in 1924 and was a student dormitory, a communal house: according to the plan, all students of the city could live here in comfortable conditions with full opportunities for creative development. However, the idea quickly failed: in the early 1930s the building was evacuated, remained abandoned for eighty years, and in recent modern history the ground floors were turned into an art space, while the basement was converted into a nightclub. Now young people come here to party.
“This is the place where Mariam and I met almost half a year ago… where my life began,” Emi remembered, going through every minute of that August night; she could almost effortlessly recall every band and artist who performed, every line of dialogue from her meeting with Mariam.
“I can’t keep lying! I can’t! I can’t! I’m breaking! I need to tell Sophie the truth right now. But why? She already knows, doesn’t she? She knows and she still stays… she suffers, and I suffer, this can’t go on!”
— The architect, — the lecturer continued, — who created this building said: “This house is called the House of the Loving Twins not only because its two towers are identical. The name carries a bright intention: may citizens who meet within the student home become lovers, bound inseparably, and become alike in values, ideas, and goals, just like twins!”
Emi took her phone from her pocket with trembling hands and opened Sophie’s contact:
— Sophie,
we need to talk, — she typed.
— Hi, about what? — Sophie replied.
— I want to break up with you. You know why. I’m sorry, I couldn’t do it.
A young doctor in a hospital room said:
— Let’s check your blood pressure, give me your hand, good, recovery is going well. The room smelled of medicine, and the turquoise tiles on the walls were peeling in places.
Suddenly Sophie flinched, got goosebumps, and instinctively pulled her hand away.
— What’s wrong? Does it hurt?..
— Why did you decide that??? — Sophie replied to Emi.
Didn’t we discuss this in Kazbegi? These things shouldn’t be decided over text!
Emi also got goosebumps, turned red, and left the lecture hall with her phone in her hands.
“God, what have I done…” she thought.
— I love Mariam, — Emi managed to type after a few minutes of silence.
Sorry, — she added later.
I did something very bad. Thank you for everything. We can stay friends with benefits if you want. I really did love you too, but I broke.
— No, I don’t want to be your friend or have any kind of benefits, — Sophie concluded after a long pause. — And yes, you really did something wrong: leaving your girlfriend in a hospital with a broken leg is not what I expected from you, Emi. If you wanted to break up, you could have done it like a decent person. And I still can’t forgive you, and I’m not sure I ever will. I’m sorry. Goodbye. Let’s forget each other.
Emi, in tears and trembling as she read the message, was walking back home.
She entered the house in a dejected state: Fleya was already gone—she had flown away to become human. She had left only a note with the words written in large letters: “GOODBYE. Maybe we will see each other again.”
Emi wanted to quickly slip upstairs and lock herself in her room. She couldn’t: Mariam was in the kitchen cooking lunch. She had paused a second-rate mystery series about ghosts and vampires that Elvin had once shown her, and turned to Emi.
— Hey, hi! Sit here, the food is almost ready!
Emi sat down, lowered her head, and looked at Mariam guiltily.
— I broke up with Sophie… — she said.
— You broke up? — Mariam asked in surprise.
— I texted her today that it would be better for us to separate. Of course, I hurt her, — Emi said bitterly. — I’m really sorry. You probably know why I did it…
— Stop, you don’t need to continue, — Mariam interrupted. — I know why you did it, I understand. You made a mistake, Emi. You slipped up. It’s nothing terrible, none of us are perfect. I hope things will work out between you. Apologize to her, okay? Talk to her, visit her in the hospital! I know she’ll forgive you.
— No, the thing is, I realized I don’t want to be in a relationship with her, and I only like her as a friend.
— Well, maybe that’s for the best, — Mariam said uneasily. — You gained experience from this. You know, I think you don’t always need to choose the person who makes you lose your mind—it’s better to choose someone you feel comfortable with, someone who treats you well. Sophie was exactly like that. And I’m really sad for both of you.
Emi tried for the next few hours to calm down, tried to focus on the series where pirates in wooden boats were cutting through waves, but she couldn’t overcome the burning, overwhelming anxiety mixed with self-disgust.
“How could I! She’s lying in a hospital bed, in a stuffy room, she wanted to get out and meet me, and I, I…”
— Emi, — Mariam asked shortly before they left, — why are you so down again? Are you worried about Sophie, or about the upcoming performance?
— Both, — Emi answered heavily. — We’re going to perform in an hour, right? Where are we playing, in “Mechanica”? I don’t remember exactly.
— In “The Twins,” Emi. Yes, in an hour. Maybe you should practice a bit? It will help you distract yourself.
— Yeah, let’s go upstairs. There’s a microphone there.
— Let’s go. I haven’t even been in your room since yesterday I arrived. And it used to be mine too…
They went upstairs.
— Wow, so many clothes! — Mariam said, looking at rows of boxes filled with clothes. — Did Sophie bring all this from “Marfi”?
— Yes. Take whatever you want.
— Thanks! Of course, she’ll need to get half of it back, but for now, just between us, that black dress with sparkles — Mariam smiled. — I rarely wear dresses, but I feel like it today.
Emi tried to sing:
“Bright lights, stolen hearts,
It’s the time to make you shout
Met you here and got excited
It’s the night you dreamed about!”
Emi’s voice was hoarse and trembling; she was clearly still crying. Still, Mariam said:
— Wow! That’s really good! So, superstar, ready to light up the stage?
Half an hour passed and it was time to get ready.
— By the way, who’s going to play drums? — Emi asked. — Elvin is no longer with us. Vazha?
— Of course not, what are you talking about? — Mariam laughed. — He can’t be allowed on stage, he looks awful. He probably hasn’t even washed his hair, wearing some gray sweater that hasn’t been washed in a month.
— Did you find someone?
— Kristi, an old friend of mine. She’s a good drummer.
— Who is she? I didn’t know about her.
— You’ll meet her soon. By the way, want a surprise?
— What?
— Guess who’s coming with us?
— Huh?
— Salome. She should knock on the door any moment, we’ll take her and go.
— That girl who came to us yesterday?
— Yes. We walked together afterward and texted all night. She’s wonderful, trust me! By the way, it’s her birthday today.
— But her family is strict, and she’s a minor…
— We’ve thought everything through!
Salome didn’t dare to come in and, standing outside the door, sent Mariam a message: “I’m here.”
Mariam came out, rushed at the girl, and hugged her tightly.
— I missed you, darling! — she said.
Salome extended her hand to Emi and awkwardly said, “Hi.”
— Do you smoke? — Mariam offered Salome.
— No, — she replied.
— Good, — Mariam lit a cigarette herself. — You’ll be healthier.
A taxi arrived. “To The Twins, please!” Soon after, they all arrived at the club. It was only nine, and people were still gathering, but inside it was already quite lively. “ANGELIC KISS” was scheduled closer to midnight on the line-up.
A small underground club of an irregular shape was flooded with neon lights from all sides, lamps and disco balls, energetic music. It smelled of cheap alcohol, tobacco, perfume, and sweat. Emi immediately began remembering the party where she met Mariam: “Here, right here, we bumped into each other and started talking…”
And Salome was breathless:
“Wow!.. These people, sounds, smells, musicians… everything is so attractive!” she thought. “Everyone is so cool and stylish! It feels like I’m doing something forbidden… and it is, but I love it! Oh… my phone is ringing, probably my aunt. Whatever, I won’t answer.”
She slowly began dancing, copying the movements of those around her.
— How is it? Do you like it? — Mariam asked Salome.
— Very much! — she answered in amazement, already getting into the rhythm.
Mariam, Emi, and Salome stayed together, and a curly yellow-haired girl approached them.
— Hi, Kristi! — Mariam greeted her, recognizing her.
— Hi!
— Ready to play?
— Yes, of course! I already tried playing along to your songs and really enjoyed it.
— Great!
— Oh, wait, I think I know your name! — Kristi turned to Emi and snapped her fingers. — You’re Emi!
— Yes, hi! Nice to meet you!
— Oh yes, nice to meet you too, — Mariam repeated. — You still need to meet another girl. She’s not in the band, but she’s adorable! Kristi, this is Salome; Salome, this is Kristi.
— Oh… — Kristi turned. — So small and pretty! Nice chain, Salome!
— Thank you! — Salome replied.
— Yes, she has a nice chain! By the way, Gabi called me and said he’ll come soon. Do you know Gabi? — Mariam asked. — He’s our bassist.
— I do! — Kristi replied. — The one with spikes? We drank beer together at a New Year’s party.
— Yes, he loves that stuff! But he loves playing bass even more. Honestly, he’s just pure gold.
Somewhere nearby, Vazha was standing with a glass of cheap beer.
— Vazha, you’re here too? — Mariam noticed him.
— Of course, — he replied. — Where else would I be, my dears?
Mariam decided to speak to one of the event organizers:
— That girl has a birthday. Her name is Salome. Please congratulate her, she’ll be very happy.
A few minutes later, they brought a leftover kitchen pastry with a burning candle in it, and the DJ put on a mix of the song “I’m already eighteen”.
— Huh? Is this for me? — Salome was surprised.
— Yes! Happy birthday, baby!
— Thank you! — Salome bit into the pastry. — Mmm, it’s very tasty.
— All for you!
— By the way, what is he playing?
— Some Russian song. I only caught the word “eighteen”. You’re fourteen, of course, but I guess the DJ only knows this one.
At midnight, Mariam said goodbye to Salome and went on stage. Electronic dance music suddenly cut into silence. The lights went out, it became dark, and only red blinking spotlights lit the stage.
On the screen behind them appeared black gothic letters: “ANGELIC KISS”.
Emi screamed her songs, while Mariam hit the electric guitar, danced, and sang backing vocals in the parts without lyrics—only moans or melodic wails between lines.
At the end, Mariam grabbed Emi with one hand and started spinning her, lifting her up, while with the other she threw the guitar away, and they both sang together:
“Bright lights, stolen hearts,
It’s the time to make you shout
Met you here and got excited
It’s the night you dreamed about!”
Mariam fell down holding Emi tightly as intense drumming began.
— It’s the night you! — Emi shouted when everything went silent.
— Dreamed about! — the crowd answered.
“I stood in the front row the whole time watching them breathless… I felt such excitement and admiration that I was ready to fall at their feet! I’m not very good at English, but I managed to understand the last song’s lyrics. And indeed, it’s the night I dreamed about…”