The cafeteria in the hall next to the rehearsal room was bustling with activity. Some artists were queuing for food, others were chatting with each other with their own lunchbox. Some artists also simply relaxing by the window and smoking, watching the Moscow River stretch out in the distance. Dmitry was quite happy to see no smoke spoiling the air he was about to breathe, as mostly the smokers aware enough to smoke far away. Near the buffet, Alexandrov and several men who appeared to be in positions of authority were also eating with the other members.
That blond man next to Comrade Alexandrov is his eldest son, Boris. Dmitry's mind replaying, when he picked his meal in the buffet. The black-haired man who looks... uh... a bit short is his younger brother, Vladimir. And next to Vladimir is the youngest, with the same name as his father. Then those older men are choreographer, the concertmaster, chorusmaster...
"Dim, Dmitry!" called someone as Dmitry's shoulder patted. Turn out it's Alexei.
"Yeah, what's up?"
"Let's have lunch together!" cheered Alexei.
"Sure, where do we want to sit?" Dmitry shrugged while brought his now-full plate. Alexei escorted Dmitry to a table with four chairs, where two of the chairs were already occupied by two young men of significantly different heights. One was the tall man with long black hair, and the other was the bald man who was sitting next to Fyodor... which were his colleagues, Vadim and Vasily, who joined sooner before Alexei.
"Pravda is a pretty good newspaper, I think..."
"No, Pravda is trash..."
"But it's not trash at all!"
"It is trash, you know!"
The argument between the two young men only made Alexei laugh, then set his plate down beside them. Dmitry nervously put his food down as well and sat next to Vadim. He cut the food, and quickly fed it to him before the rice spilled from the cabbage roll. It was quite tasty, even though it lacked salt, he thought.
"Wow, there's a new kid..." said Vasily who sat next to Alexei, but then immediately shook Dmitry's hand, "Hello! Nandev Vasily Vasilyevich, bass chorist! You can call me Vasya or Supreme Leader!"
"Wrong man, Vasya. Alexei is the one you meant," Dmitry said with flat face, knowing Vasily is just teased him.
"Ah, actually I have introduced myself to Alexei, he just help us to bring you here! Hey, you think Pravda is trash, right?" Vasily shot back immediately after introducing himself to Dmitry. Dmitry only shrugged as he still munching his food.
The four of them continued their meal, occasionally interrupted by Vadim and Vasily's debate over the Pravda newspaper. Alexei and Dmitry simply watched the two of them argue, not responding to Vadim or Vasily's questions about whether Pravda was trash. Eventually, their argument ended when the food on their plates was finished. Vadim and Vasily remained silent, drinking their glasses of tea until they were empty.
"Have you reached a conclusion?" Dmitry asked, trying to establish camaraderie.
"Actually, not yet. We'll debate again when we get back from here," Vasily admitted. "Ah, Dima. Have you decided whether Pravda is trash?" Vasily asked again.
"Eh... you still thinking about that..." Dmitry was speechless, and rolled his eyes, "I don't think Pravda is completely trash. Well, I can read the headline news that's happening around the Soviet Union. There is recipe section at another page that I can clip for my cookbook," Dmitry explained, which made Vadim clench his fists excitedly. Then Dmitry continued, "But after I finished reading, regardless of whether the newspaper contained anything of value or not, I tore the newspaper into tissue-sized pieces. Then I used them as toilet paper for a few days..." Hearing that, Vadim, Alexei, and Vasily were simply stunned by Dmitry's answer.
"As usual, our Dima is truly a genius!" Vasily said in awe, smirking at Dmitry who pulled flat face. Vadim facepalmed in defeat. Alexei, still stunned by Dmitry's answer, simply glanced at Vadim, then Vasily, and then back at Dmitry in a daze.
"Dmitry... I often use Pravda as toilet paper too! But why didn't I think to answer that?" Alexei said, finally bursting into laughter. Dmitry wondered why his colleagues were so impressed by his simple answer, which he considered utterly unethical.
"You see why we liked Dima, Alexei? Because his answer is so unique! The refreshment in this hellhole country!" Vasily said, embracing Alexei, "From now on, call us by our nicknames. Call me Vasya, call them Vadik and Dima. Welcome to our crazy world, my friend!"
"And from now on, we'll call you Lyosha!" Vadim delighted. Then the four of them headed out, but Dmitry and Alexei decided to stay at lobby room before returning to the rehearsal room.
"Well, don't worry. They may be loud, but you'll be comfortable with them," Dmitry reassured with a shrug.
"This is the first time I've been called 'Lyosha' within a day. And I already feel like a part of family," Alexei chuckled with blush.
"Is that a problem for you?" Dmitry asked.
"No, Dim... Dima. I'm just not used to it yet. But now I feel blessed and not regretting my choice to apply here!" Alexei beamed, before he asked again, "But is this a tradition at the Alexandrov Ensemble? Getting to know each other quickly?"
"Perhaps, because I also immediately called them by their nicknames last year. Besides, Alexander Vasilyevich once gave us advice to always be close to fellow artists in our free time, so that we can work better during rehearsals and concerts. We must not discriminate each other," Dmitry said at length. Alexei can only nod in understanding... and for the first time Alexei trying to embrace Dmitry on their way back to the rehearsal room.