The Lives Of The Romanovs

Vodka

Anastasia

It could me a minute to figure out how exactly I would go to the club. But then, I had a great idea. Papa and Mama were more than happy to let me go stay the night at cousin Dmitri and Tatiana's palace. So after dinner, I would leave. However, Tatiana would absolutely kill me. So, I had no choice but to tell Dmitri.

"You want to do what?" Dmitri furrowed his eyebrows and and crossed his arms.

"I just want to go out...maybe meet some people. I'm going with Rebecca Brown."

He scoffed. "Oh, she's such a wonderful influence for my nineteen-year-old cousin."

"Please, my cousin. Just tell the chauffeur to pick me on the corner at least five-blocks away from the palace. I won't ever ask for anything again."

"That is poppycock." Dmitri sighed. "But alright, go have fun. And be home by midnight. Not a word to Tatiana!"

The chauffeur did exactly that and drove me five-blocks away from the palace. He dropped me off, and I continued to walk. Makari's sister told me which street the underground club would be on. The streets of Petrograd were still busy, even at 19:00. Were all these people just now coming home from work? I wonder what time they all got there. Anyway, I had eventually seen Rebecca leaning against one of the gray-brick buildings with a cigarette in her hand.

"Oh my...what in the world are you wearing?" I gasped. Rebecca turned and just gave a cheeky smile. She wore a loose green-dress that went just below the knees.

"Oh, this? Just a dress. This is the trend now, Anastasia Nikolaevna."

"Well, I knew that. But most dresses just go a couple inches above the ankle. You're dressed...like a circus clown."

Rebecca furrowed her eyebrows and flicked her cigarette at the street. "You are just jealous because your mother will not allow you to dress like it's 1920. Now come on, let us go in."

We walked around and saw a steep staircase. Rebecca and I slowly traveled down into the the dark hallway where there was a door. Reluctantly, I knocked on the door. Slowly, it opened and I saw an eye peek out at me.

"Passcode?"

Rebecca leaned in and whispered one word. "Marx."

The door then swung open and the person pulled us in violently. They shut the door behind us. There was another door that this time, Rebecca went in to open. Behind this door, was a very large room with people smoking, dancing, and someone playing the piano, balalaika, and drum.

"My...what is this racket?" I groaned.

Rebecca put a hand on my shoulder. "This is now what people consider music."

"Really? Wow, I'm surprised."

"Anastasia, look! There's your beau!" Rebecca exclaimed and pointed. At the bar across the room, I saw Makari sipping on whiskey and watching the band and dancers. "Go speak with him."

"No, I do not want to speak to home. And he's not my beau."

"Fine, he can be my beau then." Rebecca shrugged and walked away from me. For some reason, there was a shred of regret and I quickly followed after her. But she got to Makari before I could stop her. Rebecca smirked and sat down next to him. "Hello, Mr. Kuznetsov."

"Oh, you were at the ROOIW meeting-"

"Rebecca." I said sternly. Makari and Rebecca both looked up at me. Makari gave a small grin at me.

"I knew you'd come tonight. Your burning desire to see me again couldn't keep you away."

Rebecca stood up. "And that is my sign to leave. Goodbye." I sat down in her spot and took off my coat. The smell of cigarettes were still burning my nose and the loud laughs from men were annoying. I watched the crowd, trying not to look at my Makari who I knew was looking at me.

"Whiskey, please." Makari said.

I turned myself around to face the bar. "No...vodka, please."

Makari chuckled. "Ah, look at you."

The bartender carefully poured vodka into a small glass. He handed it to me, and I picked it up. It just three gulps, I drank the entire glass of vodka. It burned the back of my throat...and then I started coughing. Makari just laughed and took the glass away from me.

"Alright princess, don't drink too fast. I don't want you puking on my lap."

I sighed. " answer this for me. Why is this an illegal bar?"

"Because of this." Makari said and leaned over the bar to grab something. He grunted as she struggled to get it. Once he came back, he had a black-book in his hand. Makari held it out to me and I took it. It was just a leather book with three-words on the front.

"The Communist Manifesto. What in the world is this?"

"It's The Communist Manifesto, obviously. It was written by two men named Friedrich Engels and Karl Marx. The book is about how the upper-class and the bourgeoisie oppress the workers. And the only way we could ever truly have rights, is by overthrowing these oppressive business owners. it's called Marxism. But if you are a little more extreme, there's another term called Communism."

"So it's just about people having equal rights? That sounds like a nice thing."

"Not necessarily. For people like me, this would be a good thing; not having to worry about if my family is going to eat or if the bourgeoisie will take care of me. But for people like you, this means you will lose your status and your fancy mansions. However, it's going to happen one day."

"You mean, communism comes to Russia?" I chuckled. "That's completely absurd. The Romanovs will rule Russia until the end of time."

"Sure, I'm sure people like King Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette said the same thing. All empires and kingdoms come to an end eventually. Look at history. The Roman empire, France's kingdom, and recently the Ottoman Empire and the German empire."

"But even though Russia has had its problems, I'm sure the Tsar and Tsarina are still good people-"

"It's not about if you're a good person, Anastasia. It's about if you're a good ruler and you can lead your country. Tsar Nicholas might be a great person, father, son, or whatever it is. But he has failed our Russia multiple times. And it won't be long until the Russian people get sick of it."

I wanted to defend Papa and Mama more. But I had to be smart. I was in a Communist club and if I showed any support, who knows what would happen?

The bartender ended up making me another glass of vodka. And this time, I slowly sipped on it. " I see you're a communist? I did not see that one coming."

Makari laughed. " me? No, that's just my friends and family. I do share some values, of course. But politics really aren't my thing."

I laughed. "But aren't you a political reporter?"

"Ironic, isn't it?" He smiled. We both ended up laughing. There was a moment of silence between us. I finished the second glass in this time. I was starting to feel a little light-headed. I never drank really. Only on special occasions.

"What will your next article be about, Mr. Kuznetsov?" I asked him. He just shrugged and and stirred his up of whiskey.

"I'm not sure. I'm being moved to a new company in Moscow."

" Moscow? How come?"

"Apparently, the news place I am at right now is too crowded. They are giving me a position in Moscow instead."

My heart sank a little. "So...won't see each other again?"

"Probably not, but that's OK. You have your life and I have mine. You have your husband, and I'm sure you will have a baby soon enough. I have my job and I will stay a reporter until the day I die." Makari shrugged it off. For some reason, I was a bit upset by his emotionless answer. But then the music slowed and some soft music on the balalaika and piano just played instead without that heavy drum.

Makari stood up and took my hand. "Anastasia Yevgenyevna, will you dance with me?"

I gave a weak smile. "Sure." We walked out to the floor together. For the rest of the night, we didn't leave each other's sides. But once 23:45 came around, I knew it was time I went back to the spot where Dmitri and Tatiana's chauffeur would pick me up. And this would be the last time Makari and I ever saw each other.