Rule of Three (boyxboy) [ON HOLD]

Chapter 1 - Kaleidoscope of Heartbeats

Translation notes:

привет, брат - hello, brother (russian)

брат - brother (russian)

до свидания - good bye (russian)

再见 - good bye (mandarin)

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Chapter One

Ten years later.

New York City. The city that never sleeps. And it was called that way for a very good reason. Not even the glistening rain, which continued to cascade against the dazzling city lights, could cease the hustle and bustle of the people rushing across the damp streets. It was an exhilarating cocktail of senses: the relentless honking of horns and zooming of tires, the colourful blur of the yellow taxi cabs and the various clothing of people, and the bright neon lights that practically screamed Times Square.

For Ivan Buryshkin, it was iconic and beautiful and so, so new. He was surrounded by what he had only seen on the television and read about in magazines. Boisterous laughter and endless chatter bounced on his ear drums, New York City was so alive, despite the nonstop rain.

It was already evening when Ivan arrived in the city. He watched the view pass by from behind a taxi window, spellbound by the people and their apparel. Designer coats, voguish boots, chic dresses, expensive sneakers, and fashionable hoodies. Anything and everything. The city seemed so energetic and inviting, promising of a fun, good time. Ivan now knew why his brother preferred to live in New York. Sergei was practically the human embodiment of the place.

The driver noticed him gazing at the bright lights. ''First time in the city, kid?''

Ivan smiled, ''Yeah.''

''What are you here for, anyway?''

''For my brother,'' he said, he fished out his Blackberry when he heard the alert for a new e-mail. ''He's getting married to someone.''

It was an e-mail from Sergei, asking whether he already arrived in the airport. Ivan replied, 'im in a taxi. tell me d address of d hotel.'

''Ah, really? Congrats to your bro, then,'' The man paused. ''You European, kid?''

Ivan opened his mouth, ready to talk about how controversial that is because most of his country Russia is on the Asian continent, but he was interrupted by his mobile ringing.

''Um, excuse me,'' he muttered, answering the call. ''Hello?''

''привет, брат.'' A low, rough voice answered, unmistakably Sergei. ''Why didn't you e-mail me when you arrived? I could have picked you up! Now you have to pay for your ride.''

''It's alright, I wanted some time to see New York myself.''

Sergei sighed, ''But you must be exhausted from the flight. You should have checked in at the hotel first before going sightseeing.''

On the contrary, Ivan was internally buzzing with excitement, his tiredness forgotten for now. But he couldn't say that, or else he'd seem like a child.

''Like I said, it's alright. Anyway, what's the name of the hotel?''

''The Peninsula. It's at the corner of Fifth Avenue and 55th Street.''

Ivan turned his attention to the taxi driver and asked, ''Can you please go to The Peninsula Hotel?''

The man whistled, eyebrows raised high in slight surprise. ''That hotel? Alright, kid.''