Volya stared at the iPad, rubbing his forehead like it was a shoe to shine. Toshka had just e-mailed him. Toshka!

And here he was gallivanting around Moscow with Liam, stuffing his face, worrying about truffles mysteriously appearing on his pillow, and figuring out things the glam people said or didn't say around him. And, yes, worrying about getting ever farther from home. While Toshka... Damn, damn, damnity-damn.

He should have been seeking refuge in the familiar, and he hadn't. Far from pining, he had pushed all thoughts of Toshka to the back of his mind. Except when he waxed poetic about his childhood. Even then, he was drawn in by Liam listening to his memories, not the memories themselves... It was like he fenced himself off from Toshka.

Now the dam broke, spilling an Olympic pool worth of longing into his soul. He brushed the iPad as if it could send gentleness along with texts.

Toshka's message looked breathless, riddled with exclamation marks, three or even five to a sentence.

Volya's chest unclenched while he pieced things together, hearing Toshka's voice in his head.

Volya wouldn't believe the views they were receiving... (it took Toshka twelve exclamation marks total to get this across).

He should go look right frigging now, and for all that is holy... (Volya lost count of the EMs, but there were five question marks mixed in, flying in the face of conventional grammar).

Would Volya stop being a jerk already and follow the band's IG? (Volya didn't have any such thing).

And post some pictures with Liam, because there was a bunch from fans in Rostov and Moscow. And not a single one from him! And how awesome was that? (What?)

Oh! Was Moscow cool?

Volya dropped the iPad on the bed, letting out a helpless laugh. Toshka, Toshka... Never change, I beg you. He gathered the device in his lap and hit the reply button.

Moscow is... he typed and chewed his nail.

Anything he planned to say sounded like the soulless BS from Marina's beginner course: Moscow is a nice city with lots of green spaces. I enjoyed the sights, most particularly our Red Square walk this afternoon.

After backspacing that nonsense, he tried again.

Moscow is cool. I only wish you were here to walk the streets, fool around with linden flowers, and get soaked in the rain.

Okay, this was better. Or maybe it was worse for his heart. It palpitated, as he belatedly pictured how amazing this trip could have been with Toshka.

Stupid Moscow! Its dizzying air made him forget about Toshka. Stupid, stupid, stupid... everything.

He backspaced everything about Moscow, and typed, Liam is actually a pretty cool guy.

Yeah, except Toshka could have been here, with him, if Liam was cool enough to do what he'd asked him to do and sprung both of them from the orphanage.

Paperwork is getting there, we probably will be flying to States--

Here, Volya stumbled again.

Wouldn't it stir the locust of fans all the more, if he blabbed their travel plans? His mate had plenty of wonderful qualities, but keeping secrets wasn't one of them. And now that he grabbed the internet's attention, the news would spread like wildfire.

Soon, he wrote instead of the firm date, while his teeth made a gritting sound. Look at him, giving Toshka a run-around! This trip was getting better by the minute.

He'll make it up to Toshka, Volya promised himself. Like, this Instagram thing, he could do that. He'd follow the band and post pictures.

Volya suffered through opening an Instagram account—which he didn't have, by the way, because the orphanage didn't provide them with phones. Until now, that is, since Liam obviously supplied the band with one.

When Volya set up his account, his first instinct was to leave the profile picture blank, but then his finger lingered over a stock image. A howling wolf. Probably millions of other people used it, but so what? He had more reasons than the most, his name being what it was. Plus, he was sick of looking at his face on the band's account. His wide cheekbones popped at a preposterous angle, making him look stupid. So, a stock wolf just felt better somehow. Right.

Then he followed everyone and their... oh, hell. Everyone and their dog, ha-hah.

He should have put the damnable device away after that and turned off the lights, but instead he clicked and clicked until his head spun, spiraling down into the internet nether.

Every move Liam made through both airports had already been captured and uploaded. Volya even spotted fresh snapshots from the lobby, despite the efforts of the security guards. It was a major pain in the ass and raised a question of why Toshka could possibly want more pictures of Liam.

Yet, Volya scrolled through his paltry collection of selfies.

Apparently, he'd taken more than he remembered. Some of them brought an involuntary smile to his lips.

He selected the ones with the Red Square and the Moscow River in the background. But his finger froze when he got to Liam sniffing the flower.

His memory instant-replayed Liam laughing at Volya's awkward handling of the iPad, complaining that the bud would turn into a pumpkin before Volya was done. Nonsense, pure nonsense! However, Liam didn't mindlessly beam joy into space like on the fans' pictures. His smile warmed the shot, hinting at something troublesome he had set aside to have fun for a bit.

The strain written on his features in the principal's office had disappeared, replaced by something else. Hope, maybe.

Yes, this was hope, Volya decided, zooming on a smudge of golden pollen on Liam's cheek. Or maybe Liam was seeing something so pleasing in front of him, that he couldn't hold back his smile. But no. The blossom was cute, but not that cute.

He un-selected the photo. He would share the postcard-perfect landmarks with the world. But this, this was his.