Two Months and Three Days (Sinister Romance #1)

Chapter 2 (part II)

She always divided the photographs into two categories: "Like" and "Don't like." This was true not only of the photographs. Arina once visited an exhibit at the Garage Museum of Contemporary Art, where, surrounded by a mound of garbage bags and empty milk cartons and yogurt packs, there was a live person, a woman, practically naked, covered only in garbage bags. It was an installation, something about how the modern world of technology and information entombed true nature. Arina didn't like this kind of art at all. She preferred photographs and paintings of nature and animals.

"One hundred rubles if you have a student card," the ticket controller said, fidgeting in her chair. There was no queue, no reason to rush, but she acted on autopilot.

"Okay, I'll take one." Arina looked at the spherical sculptures again. Nellie would say that the spheres were "cool."

"The sixth floor is closed today," the ticket lady sneered. "For a press conference. Journalists only."

"Journalists?" This caught Arina's interest. The good thing about living in Moscow was that you could find yourself in the midst of the most incredible events at any moment. A shooting of a movie about the dead, students protesting against something and throwing leaflets at passersby or journalists holding big microphones with plush or sponge tops.

"There they are, behind the fence," the ticket lady explained, but Arina had already noticed that the way to the cube-shaped, snow-white staircase had been temporarily blocked off with red tape tied to the posts. A group of sleepy, unhappy journalists was standing behind the posts, behind the artificial fence. To the right, near the wall, there were small banquet tables with tall glasses filled with champagne, and small canapé sandwiches, all looking very inviting. Arina licked her lips. She should have eaten before heading to the exhibition. Another mistake.

"What's over there?" she asked, nodding towards the media gathering.

"Hatred," the ticket lady replied, sounding even more annoyed.

"What?" Arina winced. The ticket lady tore herself away from the computer screen and thoroughly studied Arina's pale, young face, with two birthmarks on the left cheek, and her black hair pulled into a loose ponytail, as if she were deciding whether it was even worth replying to the little girl. She shrugged her shoulders and sneered again as if saying that Arina was some kind of barbarian that didn't know anything, didn't care about anything, and wasn't following the news.

"An exhibit. The photographs of some cult photographer. He arrives today and they are all waiting for him here." Then, she added sarcastically, "Paparazzi."

"Hatred?" Arina repeated, incredulously, but apparently, the ticket lady had already gotten tired of talking to her client. She printed the ticket and shoved it into her hands together with a small pile of brochures and booklets.

Arina walked inside through the glass doors, heading towards the spherical sculptures. Incredibly beautiful photographs covered the snow-white walls. She saw a million bright colors and shapes as if the lens had accidentally captured parallel worlds and universes. The photographs were immense. Arina moved closer to the sign and read the title. Uncharted Worlds of the Human Cell. This outland world, which turned out to be macro photographs of microbiological samples, made her literally stop dead in her tracks and drop her jaw.

How beautiful!

Arina hesitated for a second trying to figure out where to go first. Luckily for her, the photographs of the natural landscapes of the Russian North were displayed on the third floor. She could probably hang out there. The other booklet invited Arina to "touch the light" that came to life in the installations of some European artist. Hmm, another installation. We'll see. The third booklet, the color of dark chocolate, was printed on much denser paper. It had nothing else on it but the word "Hatred" printed with glowing neon letters that looked like they were floating in the dark. If you looked closer, you could see vague shapes, subtle against the chocolate background, hiding behind each letter.