But what happens when a door is knocked on, and no one answers it?

Why, that's what keys were made for, of course.

Kolya, however, was not thinking about keys when he heard the noise: three raps on the outer surface of the front door. The knocks were not sharp nor insistent, but neither were they timid. Rather, there was something of decisive politeness about them. Kolya, lounging on the couch with a magazine, considered the situation. While not particularly involved in the magazine, he was disinclined to leave the comfort of the couch for any reason. Also, no one else was home, and whoever was at the door was unlikely to be coming to visit him. If it was someone coming to visit one of the other residents of the apartment, he didn't want to deal with the awkwardness of having to explain his presence to a stranger, or, even worse, of waiting with the stranger until the person they intended to visit came home. Uncomfortable silence was not worth leaving the couch for. If, however, the person knocking at the door was there for business reasons-- then they could very well go away and come back later, because Kolya was not getting up to answer the door, no matter what. He had decided.

The knocking came again, but Kolya was resolute. He stared at the magazine in front of his face. It was rather dry by his standards, a journal of religion and ethics he'd taken from Alyosha's room, but for reading material, it sufficed. He wasn't picky. Silence came from beyond the door, and it seemed the ostensible visitor had gone away, or so Kolya thought until he heard the key in the lock.

Kolya sat up straight, setting his magazine to one side. From the couch, he had a clear sight line to the door, as the foyer opened up into the living room. They had a key? Then why had they knocked first? It was not like Mitya, Vanya, Pasha, nor Alyosha to knock-- well, Mitya might have knocked, if he'd locked himself out again, but he would have been simultaneously shouting at Kolya to open the damned door. Kolya did not know who it could possibly be. He watched the door intently as the key turned in the lock.

The lock turned over with a sharp click! and then the unlocked door began to swing inwards slowly. Kolya leaned forward expectantly as the door swung all the way open to reveal the person standing behind it. There, with a bounty of shopping bags looped over her wrists and a coat draped over her arm, stood a girl he had never seen before. She was very pretty and very tall, with perfectly wavy, dark golden hair like a doll's tresses hanging down almost to her shoulders. Her eyes were shaped like almonds, and their irises were the exact color of the skin of shelled almonds. Her complexion was a golden, like her hair, and her lips were very red, although she did not seem to be wearing any makeup. Kolya had never before seen anyone older than ten with such clear skin, such shining hair. She seemed as though she had grown larger, but had otherwise not really aged since her childhood. She was dressed like a young man, in a close fitting black three-piece suit, her dress shirt the color of cream and her necktie the color of india ink.

Unsurprisingly, as he was sitting on a couch right in front of her, the girl saw Kolya immediately. Her eyes widened. "Oh," she said. " Hello. I'm sorry for barging in like this. I didn't realize anyone was home."

Kolya frowned. Something was wrong. The girl's voice was far too deep for a female. In fact, it was deeper than his own, with a decidedly sonorous tone. She was also amazingly flat-chested for a girl of that age. He looked at her hands. He looked at her throat. He decided that this young woman was most probably a young man. He tried to conceal his surprise, to appear nonchalant. "That's all right."

"This is-- Alyosha still lives here, doesn't he?"

"Yeah, he still lives here." Kolya was wary of strangers, and he did not rise to greet this one.

The stranger, to lessen the space between them, came towards Kolya, closing the door behind himself with his foot. He came to a halt about two feet from Kolya and put down his bags and his coat. His keys were still in his hand, and he slipped them into his pocket. "I don't think we've met before? My name is Lev. Lev Myshkin. I'm a friend of Alyosha's." He extended a hand in greeting.

Kolya took the offered hand and squeezed it briefly, then released it. He could not say why he at once felt so uncomfortable, but he did. "Kolya," he said, almost unwillingly, as though his name was torn from him. "My name's Kolya." Lev examined him with curious eyes the color and shape of almonds, and Kolya felt compelled to explain himself. "I'm-- I've been staying with Mitya."

"I see. It's a pleasure to meet you, Kolya." Lev's lips moved in a smile. Close up, Kolya could see that they were redly chapped, raw. It was cold outside. "I didn't realize anyone new was living here. I haven't spoken to Alyosha or the others in a while. I've been ill."

"Oh."

As if mention of his illness had reminded him of it, Lev's eyes, which had been completely cheerful until that moment, grew weary. "Do you mind if I sit down with you?" he asked softly.

"Uh, sure. I mean, no. No, I don't mind at all."

Lev lowered himself slowly to sit beside Kolya on the couch. He picked up the magazine Kolya had discarded and examined it briefly. "Is this any good?" he asked.

Small talk was something else that Kolya was wary of, especially small talk with strangers, but he staggered gamely into the fray of conversation. "It's okay. It's more Alyosha's kind of thing than mine."

"I see." Lev leaned to one side, cradling his head in his hand, his elbow resting on the arm of the couch, staring at the far wall.

Kolya tried to think of something else to say. "I've heard Alyosha talk about you before."

Lev turned towards him. "Oh? Yes?"

"Yes. You're a singer too."

Lev made a soft noise of assent, his gaze drifting away again.

Kolya began to feel terribly uninteresting, so he elaborated. "Alyosha said that you have a wonderful voice. And I don't know much about music myself, but Alyosha has a good ear, so he must be right."

"Alyosha said that? How kind of him."

"Yeah. He's nice." Kolya's eyes fell upon the bags Lev had put down. "What did you bring?"

"Those? They're presents."

"Oh."

"For Alyosha," Lev added.

"Wow, that's nice of you."

"I wanted to get him something, since I haven't seen him in so long."

That was a lot of something, Kolya thought. "Well, that makes sense."

There was an awkward pause. Kolya didn't know whether he should try to fill it-- perhaps Lev wanted to wait for Alyosha in silence. Perhaps Lev would rather be left alone. Kolya wondered whether it would be rude to retreat to the room he shared with Mitya, or if it would be a mercy for both of them if he left. He was beginning to feel embarrassed, sitting next to this exquisite, well dressed young man. He was feeling like a scruffy kid with dirty hair and a bad dye job-- which was perhaps what he was, but there was no need for him to have to feel like what he was instead of what he'd have liked to be.

Lev spoke again, breaking into his thoughts. "How long have you been staying with Mitya?"

"A few months, I guess." It was as good a guess as any. Kolya had never had much of a sense of time. The days and weeks had merged into a seamless blur. He'd been living here less than a year, he was sure of it, but greater precision eluded him.

"Does he treat you well?"

"Sure. I guess. Everyone's been nice to me. It's definitely better than where I was before."

"I'm sure."

Kolya was startled to feel a sudden pressure on his thigh, and he looked down to see Lev's hand there. Eyes growing wide, he turned towards the guest, only to have Lev's mouth meet his own. Kolya parted his lips to exclaim in surprise, but Lev seemed to take this opening as an invitation to push his tongue inside. Then there were arms around him, a body pressing against him, and Kolya found himself quite precipitately pushed down onto the couch with Lev on top of him. Lev pulled up Kolya's shirt and began to stroke his chest gently, his mouth still locked on Kolya's. Although he was not greatly distressed, Kolya did not particularly want to be in this situation, but he made no move to extricate himself from it. It was not that he was afraid of Lev, who he was fairly confident he could push off without much trouble. No, it was that he was too shocked to do anything yet, although some part of his brain that was not paralyzed by confusion was telling him that if he was going to, he should really do something soon, as Lev began to unzip his jeans.

It was just at that moment that Mitya walked in, carrying five hamburgers, three in one hand and two in the other. The hamburgers were inadequately wrapped in wax paper, and grease was dripping down onto the floor and streaming down his wrists. Mitya was unable to avoid the sight of what was happening on the couch. With a gasp, he promptly dropped every one of his hamburgers. Meat patties, ketchup, pickles, soggy buns, and wax paper fell to the floor with a soft, papery, liquidy noise. Mitya began to yell incoherently at the top of his lungs.

Lev and Kolya both jumped up off the couch, Kolya pulling his shirt down, Lev straightening his tie. They stood in silence, not looking at each other nor at Mitya as Mitya continued to howl. Kolya stared at the floor, at the sickly green pickles gleaming in a red ketchup glaze. He knew how they felt.

Eventually, Mitya was able to form words again. "That is the most horrible thing I've ever seen in my life!" he shouted. "My lunch is ruined!" Whether he was referring to the fallen hamburgers or a loss of appetite, it was unclear.

Neither Lev nor Kolya spoke. Kolya couldn't meet Mitya's eyes.

Mitya, although he had relearned the shaping of words, had not managed to get the volume of his voice under any kind of control. He had gone completely pale, and he continued to shout. "You should be ashamed of yourself, Lev Myshkin!" He grabbed Kolya roughly by the shoulder. "Kolya! Come with me!"

Kolya allowed himself to be marched to their shared room. Mitya escorted him there without deigning to look back at Lev. "Goddamned Prince Myshkin! I hate his stupid guts!" Mitya was in a high fury. Saliva sprayed from his mouth as he raved.

"Calm down," Kolya said at last. "It's all right."

Mitya fell silent for the first time since he'd started to shout. Kolya wondered if he'd even paused to take a breath that whole time. He was frowning, his dark eyebrows angled sharply downwards above his sharp nose. He spoke again, this time in a low voice barely above a whisper, a voice trembling with rage. "Tell me what happened."

Kolya related the brief encounter, which he remembered in its entirety, as it had occurred only moments before. His words did nothing to alleviate Mitya's anger. If anything, they increased it, but Mitya did not shout again. "I thought so. He thought you were a fucking whore. That little shit. He gives me the creeps."

"He thought I--?"

"To be fair--!" Mitya barked, with a sharp upwards movement of his hand. "To be fair, I have entertained prostitutes before. Once or twice. Three times, maybe. Myshkin knows that. But to jump you right in the living room... of all the nerve. You're just a kid. He's as old as I am, do you know that? What business does he have kissing kids?"

Kolya decided to refrain from his usual protests that he was not, in fact, a kid. Instead, he said slowly, "Technically-- you could say I have been a whore."

"Well, you could say that about me, for god's sake. That's beside the fucking point. The point is, he thinks my best friend is just some cheap fuck, and that makes me fucking hate him even more than I already hated him, and I did hate him already." Mitya closed his eyes. He bit his lip. He was visibly trying to calm himself down, but his success in doing so was slight. "Why doesn't he just die? He's always on the verge--! But he never actually makes it, the indecisive little fucker."

There was a knock on Mitya's door. Three knocks in short succession, to be precise.

Mitya's eyes snapped open. "Go away!"

The knocks came again, accompanied by Lev's voice, saying, "Please."

"Oh, all right, all right." His face twisted in a snarl, Mitya flung the door open. "What do you want now?" Seeing Lev again, Kolya was struck anew by how like a woman he looked, even having taken no effort to appear so. "I'd like to apologize," spoke that discordantly deep voice from the slender, girlish body.

"Oh, would you?" Mitya growled.

"Don't worry about it, Mitya," said Kolya. "I'm not upset." He wasn't. He was actually in a rather good mood now, better than the mood he'd been in before Lev had arrived. He'd gotten to kiss a beautiful boy, and Mitya had, all unthinking, called Kolya his "best friend". He had never been called a best friend before.

"Well, I am! I'm pretty damned upset!"

"I cleaned up the mess," Lev offered, "and I'll be happy to buy you new hamburgers." He did, Kolya thought, seem genuinely contrite.

Mitya was somewhat placated by this. "You'd damn well better buy me new hamburgers."

"I will. I promise. May I apologize to Kolya?"

Mitya looked as though he'd like to refuse Lev, just for the sake of it, but he clearly had no grounds for a refusal. "Okay," he said grudgingly. He took a step back, and Kolya came forward.

Lev smiled. "I meant no offense. I found you very attractive, and I-- I misread the situation. I'm very sorry if my advances were unwelcome. I wouldn't intentionally do anything to harm you."

"Oh, that's all right. I wasn't hurt, was I?" Kolya realized now why their initial meeting had been so uncomfortable. It must have been sexual tension. Now he felt completely at ease in Lev's presence, and Lev too seemed in some way more relaxed, in spite of his present embarrassment. Throughout their painful conversation, Lev must have been plotting to kiss him. And Mitya had come in at the worst possible moment! Replaying the scene in his mind, Kolya found it intensely amusing. He began to laugh.

"What's funny?" Mitya demanded.

Lev bit his lip. Kolya could see he was trying not to laugh, and that made Kolya laugh all the harder, which made Lev's laughter break through his attempts to hold it in, which in turn made Kolya laugh even more, doubling over, tears in his eyes.

"Why are you both laughing? I still don't find any part of this funny!"

"Mitya--" Kolya tried to speak. "Mitya-- you--"

"I what?"

"Your-- expression! You should have-- You should have seen!" Kolya's stomach was hurting, he was laughing so hard.

Lev was laughing almost as hard, and he made an attempt to speak as well, his sentence broken in pieces by gales of laughter. "I thought-- I really thought-- he was going to-- to kill me!"

Mitya put his hands on his hips. "And I should have, too! I should have killed both of you! I can't believe you, laughing at a time like this!"

"Mitya has such a bad temper!" Kolya cried to Lev through his laughter.

"I know!" Lev laughed back. "He's the worst!"

"You disgust me, the two of you." Try as he might to remain firm, Mitya was softening. A smile tugged on the corners of his mouth. "Even if it was pretty funny," he admitted, quickly adding, "Though I'm not saying you should be laughing! You're both shameless!" He watched them as their laughter began to calm and they wiped the tears from their eyes. He began to smile himself, and once he realized what he was doing, threw up his hands in dismay. "Great! Now I forgot why I was angry about this!"

"Let me take you both out to lunch," offered Lev, before Mitya could recapture his temper. "It would be my pleasure."

Mitya was torn. The offer of free food tempted him, but Lev's presence still irked him. He considered. "Okay. I have a better idea. Why don't you get some food and bring it back here for us?"

"Oh. All right."

Kolya thought he had never before seen someone embody the word crestfallen so perfectly before. Lev, he realized, was one of those people who wore their hearts in a prominent place where it could be easily injured. "I'll come with you," he volunteered. "And we can bring it back together."

Lev brightened. "I would like that very much."

"Excuse us for a second!" shouted Mitya, unceremoniously shoving Lev out the door and shutting it behind him. He turned to Kolya. "Are you crazy? I was trying to protect you from him."

"I don't need to be protected from anyone, least of all him."

Mitya sighed. "Not you, too. Am I the only person who knows Lev Myshkin for what he is? He might have Vanya fooled, and he certainly has Alyosha fooled-- god knows, that isn't hard to do-- but I can see right through him. Everyone thinks he's just the sweetest, most perfect person on earth, but he's petty and mean to the core, just like the rest of us."

Kolya rolled his eyes. "I think you might be exaggerating a bit."

"No, I am not. But that's fine. Don't listen to me, then. See if I care." Mitya folded his arms, and it was clear from his expression that he did, in fact care.

Kolya moved towards his friend, rose up onto his tiptoes, and placed a gentle kiss on Mitya's cheek. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine." He laughed. "Besides," he added, "Lev's pretty cute." He winked and dashed out of the room before Mitya could say another word.

***

"Mitya doesn't like me very much, does he?" Lev asked as the two of them walked down the street together. Unlike the brothers, and unlike himself, Lev had spent most of his life in Russia; he was still a Russian citizen. His English was very good, but heavily accented. Kolya found the thick Russian accent charming; it made him smile.

"Mitya's funny sometimes."

"We used to be friends, did you know that?"

"You did?" Kolya had not known that, and he would never have guessed. "When was this?"

"A while ago. Then I did something that upset him."

"Oh." Not wanting to pry, Kolya did not question him on the subject. "Sorry about that. You couldn't make up?"

"I tried." Lev's eyes were sad for a moment, then he brightened. "Where should we go to get the hamburgers?" The hopefulness about his manner seemed to suggest he believed that if he could only bring back the right burgers, all would be forgiven, and Mitya would like him again.

Kolya had no such optimism. "I know where Mitya gets them. Don't worry, just follow me."

"Do they have vegetarian food there?"

Kolya contemplated this question. "I'm pretty sure they have veggie burgers. And they've got salads and stuff." "Then would you like to eat there with me? Before we bring Mitya his food?"

"Sure. That'd be nice."

"And maybe we could bring some back for Alyosha?"

Kolya contemplated again, then shook his head. "Well-- I don't know if they're vegan burgers. And I know they're not organic. But we can stop somewhere else on the way back to get something for Alyosha, if you want. He should be home by the time we get back. I think he's just out volunteering at a soup kitchen or animal shelter or something. Of course, he might get carried away and forget to come home. They sometimes take advantage of him at those places. They can work him right to the bone, because he doesn't notice." There was a slight measure of exasperation in Kolya's voice, but he chastened himself for it at once. "He's so generous," he added in a kinder tone, to make up for it, but he wondered if his heart was truly in the words. Just once, he would have liked to see Alyosha a little less generous, a little more selfish. A little more human.

Lev shook his head, smiling. "Alyosha never changes," he said fondly.

Kolya turned towards Lev. He considered the man with new eyes, but bundled up in his coat, knit mittens on his hands and a cute knit cap on his head, he seemed as innocent as a six year old. Kolya was still having trouble believing Mitya's assertion that Lev was the same age he was. At twenty-eight, a large part of the softness of Mitya's youth had been worn away, whereas Lev was all softness, all youth. "I guess not," said Kolya. "You've known him longer than I have, of course."

"You're very kind, Kolya," said Lev. His face grew pensive, slightly pained, and he paused before continuing. "I apologize again for my lamentable behavior. I still feel quite ashamed. You and Mitya-- are you boyfriends?"

"Oh!" Kolya laughed, laughing almost as hard as he'd laughed earlier, when he and Lev had both been mastered by hilarity in Mitya's room. "Me and Mitya? No-- no, we're just friends. The brothers took me in when I didn't have anywhere else to go." His laughter faded away and his voice grew gentle as he said these last words, still finding them hard to believe, still amazed that they were true.

"I see. They are a kind family, aren't they?"

Kolya did not think that was entirely true, did not even know if it was a compliment to call someone 'kind', but they had showed kindness to him, so he agreed, "Yes, they are."

"Do you have a boyfriend?" asked Lev. "Or perhaps a girlfriend?"

"No, I don't have either."

"I see." With a shy smile, tentatively, Lev moved closer and wrapped his arm around Kolya's, so that they walked side by side and arm in arm. "Is this all right?"

Lev might have been many things, but he certainly wasn't subtle, Kolya thought. Still, he seemed innocent enough. "Yeah, that's fine."

The sudden sound of someone gasping loudly startled Kolya. He turned towards the sound and saw two girls, both about his age, in their late teens, staring at him. Or, rather, staring at he and Lev. Or, more precisely, staring at Lev.

"Is that really him?" hissed one of the girls, a brunette in a plaid skirt and dark wool peacoat, to the other, a redhead almost entirely concealed by her long, brown coat.

"Yes," whispered the other in reply. "I think it really is!" Both of them were gaping.

Lev halted in mid stride and smiled at them. There was something so winning about this smile that the girls squealed despite themselves, and even Kolya felt himself blush. "Hello," said Lev in his deep, beautiful voice, taking a step towards them.

The girls shared a glance, wide-eyed. "Uh, Prince Myshkin?" one of them, the brunette, managed to ask. She had gone completely white.

The redhead, meanwhile, had gone completely red. "Hello, Prince Myshkin!" she breathed happily, her breath steaming white from her mouth.

"Yes," he said simply. "You know my name already, I see. But I'm afraid I don't know yours?"

"Rebecca," gasped the brunette.

The redhead could barely contain herself. "Mathilde."

"It's a pleasure to meet you both," said Lev, and Kolya could smell the sincerity in his voice. He practically oozed earnestness and congeniality. Kolya let go of his arm, taking a step back, sensing that he had no place in this encounter. He doubted the girls had even noticed his presence. "How kind of you to have recognized me!"

"We love your music," said Rebecca in a rush. "You're so wonderful! You have such a beautiful voice, and I've been listening to you for years. I have all your albums. They're amazing."

"Me too!" Mathilde seconded. She was having more trouble making herself coherent and was trembling visibly. "Thank you so much for everything!"

"Oh. I don't know what to say." Lev tilted his head to one side. "I do try. It's a comfort to know that I've brought you some pleasure. Rebecca." He extended his hand to the brunette, and she took it. "Mathilde." He extended his other hand to the redhead, and, shaking, she brought her gloved hand up to accept his knit mitten. "Thank you both very much." Kolya didn't know who moved first, it happened so quickly, but suddenly Lev was embracing both girls, and they were smiling and giggling. Lev released them a moment later with a laugh.

"Uh, we don't want to bother you or anything," said Rebecca quickly, sharing another excited glance with her friend Mathilde, "but could we have your autograph?"

Lev beamed. "Of course you can."

Rebecca opened her purse and rooted around in it until she came up with a piece of paper and a pen. "This is all I have," she said apologetically.

"That will be fine." He took the pen and paper from her.

"Could you write 'to Rebecca'? And could you write it in Russian and English?"

"I'd be happy to." His pen moved quickly but carefully across the paper. He seemed quite practiced in signing autographs. "Here you are." He returned the paper to her.

Before he could return the pen, Mathilde spoke. "Would you sign my hand?" she asked timidly.

"Oh, yes. If that's what you'd like."

Mathilde pulled off her glove and offered Lev the back of her hand. "Thank you so much for your music," she said as he moved the pen across her skin, leaving decisive dark lines in its wake.

"Thank you so much for listening," he said, gazing into her eyes, and she ducked her head, blushing, red hair falling down into her face. "I depend upon you."

Several minutes later, after the girls had thanked Lev some more and said their goodbyes, Lev snaked his arm around Kolya's again, as naturally as if their arms belonged together. "Weren't they wonderful?" he asked.

"They were nice girls."

Lev shook his head, marveling. "Such marvelous young women. I'm honored, really."

"Does that happen to you often?" Kolya asked.

"Oh, now and then. I'm always surprised when it does."

Anyone else Kolya might have suspected of false modesty, but Lev seemed genuinely taken aback by the attention. Kolya had been with each of the Brothers K when they had been approached by fans, and each of them reacted differently. Alyosha with an endearing shy humility, never knowing what to say, Mitya with the mien of a king receiving the honor due him-- delighting in the praise, Vanya with a calm professional air, and Pasha with undisguised suspicion and disbelief. Lev, however, had been confidently warm, acting and speaking with an easy grace that showed him entirely suited to his role as the "famous singer", but not impressed with himself in the least.

"Well," Kolya said, stopping short and drawing up Lev short alongside him, "we're here."

end of part one. part two is here.