FROM THE HISTORY OF THE BAND 'OBLACHNY KRAY'. CHAPTER 19: BOGAEV FOREVER

Gena welcomed me warmly and commented on my appearance: my cheek was blazing red, resembling the tread mark of a winter tire. I told him about my fight, of course, and we decided to celebrate our miraculous escape from the chase. We had one drink, then a second, a fifth, a twentieth… and that’s how my birthday passed, without me even noticing. Then a week went by, then a second, and I fell into a deep binge. I didn’t even bother to call my family once to tell them I had arrived safely and settled in, as is our tradition. Back in Arkhangelsk, they were already mourning me: whenever Natalia called the studio, they would calmly reply: “Sergey isn’t here, he’s in Arkhangelsk.” She called all our friends, and even Gena, but his phone had been disconnected for non-payment. Seeing no other option, my wife went to the train station and to the police to file a missing person report. She gave them my details and was asked to wait. Within an hour, they had figured everything out and called Natasha:“Are you sure your husband left for St. Petersburg?” the duty officer asked.