In May, we went to play airsoft again — already the second time with this company. After the first trip to Bronnitsy, many things were familiar: the drive in several cars, tents, the night forest, conversations by the campfire, and the morning wake-up before the game. Still, it felt like a new adventure: a different trip, a different setting, a new game, and once again that strange feeling when ordinary colleagues turn into a team for a few days.
The details of the game itself no longer seemed as unexpected as they had the first time. Mostly, I ran through the forest, tried to “shoot” opponents, and got used again to that mixture of excitement, fatigue, and constant expectation that a shot might come from behind the trees.
What especially stayed in my memory was the night in the tent under the rustling trees and the starry sky overhead. The second time, everything felt calmer, without the earlier sense of complete unknown, but there were still plenty of emotions: nature, the game, team spirit, and the rare chance to see the work collective from a completely different side.
On the way back home, I had a meaningful conversation with Alexey Viktorovich — my boss. While we were in the same car, I decided to openly tell him why I had used the company servers to create my own chat. I explained that it was my first project of this kind, and I didn’t realize the possible consequences and financial costs for the company. I also shared that I had become friends with some guys from MGIMO, who helped me moderate the chat. Their support was valuable to me, and together we created an active community. My confession and sincerity helped to resolve the tension that had arisen. Alexey Viktorovich appreciated my openness, and it significantly strengthened our mutual understanding and trust.
These three days spent outdoors, as well as the conversation that followed, became important moments in my life, reminding me of the importance of honesty and straightforwardness in any relationship, whether friendly or professional.
On my birthday, June 19th, I wasn’t expecting any special celebration — I rarely celebrated it anyway. It happened to fall on a Tuesday that year, so I spent most of the day at work and only met up with my old friend Lesha in the evening. We just walked around the city, drinking beer and talking, the way we often used to. For me, it was a simple, quiet way to end the day.
Masha, however, didn’t know about these plans. She was convinced that I was celebrating my birthday with another girl, and the thought deeply hurt her. We didn’t see each other until Saturday — we both had things to do — and during those days her anxiety only grew stronger.
When I finally came to see her on Saturday, Masha met me in tears. She was lying on the couch, overwhelmed with hurt and a sense of betrayal. My heart tightened at the sight of her suffering. I immediately tried to comfort her and explained that the meeting with my friend had been unplanned and that we had simply had a couple of beers after work — there hadn’t been any celebration at all. I had long since gotten used to not celebrating my birthdays, and such a quiet “celebration” was perfectly normal for me. My words and my genuine desire to make things right gradually helped her calm down.
Once we made peace, Masha gave me her birthday gifts. The main one was a painting of two wolves that she had created in advance using oil paints. This piece was especially precious to me: painting was her hobby, and every brushstroke was filled with meaning and emotion. Along with the painting, she also gave me a brown Levi’s belt, which I ended up wearing almost every day, and a book — How to Create a News Story by Konstantin Gavrilov, published by Amfora. All of these gifts still remind me of the warmth and sincerity of that relationship. The painting still hangs in my room in Moscow and reminds me how important it is to be honest and open with each other.
During this time, Masha had already had a significant influence on me not only in everyday matters but also in terms of my health. Thanks to her support, I decided to quit smoking. Masha always spoke with care about the harm of this habit and worried about my health. I didn’t think long over her words—her support helped me take this step almost painlessly. I felt responsible to her, and it strengthened my resolve not to pick up a cigarette again. Quitting smoking became an important achievement that only deepened our mutual respect and trust.
One of our evenings stands out especially. We decided that I would spend the night at Masha’s place, even though we knew that her strict grandmother might not approve of us staying together. We weren’t sure how she’d react, but we didn’t want to risk it or provoke conflict. Her grandmother was highly respected in the family, and to avoid possible displeasure, we carefully came up with a cunning plan.
After our usual evening walk, I accompanied Masha home and, as sometimes happened, stayed for a cup of tea. Time passed midnight, and her grandmother had already gone to bed. Taking advantage of this, I hid in the closet while Masha created the sounds of my departure: she opened and closed the door and loudly said goodbye to me. After she completed her “performance,” she returned to the room, wished her grandmother good night, and locked us in.
Hidden in the closet, I felt heat and excitement from anticipation. The minutes dragged on, but finally Masha opened the closet, and the cool air of the room eased my tension. We spent the rest of the night together, cherishing every minute in the quiet of the night.
In the morning, before her grandmother left for the dacha, our plan nearly failed when she approached the locked door of the room. I quickly hid in the closet, and Masha went to the door and, as if nothing had happened, opened it. Her grandmother, getting ready for her trip, said goodbye to Masha and left. As soon as the door closed behind her, I came out of the closet with relief. Left alone together, we sighed with relief, and I realized how much I wanted to keep being a part of her life.
Soon, however, I began openly staying overnight at Masha’s place. This became a sign that our relationship had reached a new level of trust and intimacy.
Every time I spent the night at Masha’s, she would carefully prepare lunches for both of us. Taking these lunches to work the next day, I felt proud. Opening the lunch box, I remembered our morning breakfasts together, full of laughter and warm conversations. These things, which may have seemed like little things, actually became meaningful rituals, forming the foundation of our relationship and filling every day with meaning and care for each other. This strengthened our bond, making it even stronger and more meaningful.
Closer to the middle of autumn, at the end of October or the beginning of November, the first exam session began at RSSU. For part-time students, the session was three weeks of intensive study, with classes from morning to evening, followed by exams. I would take time off from work to attend classes every day and diligently completed all assignments. Classes were held at Botanichesky Sad, near the metro station on Wilhelm Pieck Street, opposite VGIK, which added a special creative atmosphere to the surroundings.
At that time, I was very responsible, largely thanks to Masha, who had taught me accuracy and discipline. I was the only one wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase, which immediately made me stand out among the rest. This organization led to me being elected group leader from the very first day.
There were only four guys in our group: me; Slava—a thirty-year-old man who had fought in the First Chechen War, originally from Ulyanovsk but living in Krasnogorsk at the time, working as a bodyguard for an influential businessman, and admitted to RSSU on preferential terms as a combat veteran. His experience with war and military service gave him particular maturity. Kostya—a young guy from Mozhaysk who enrolled straight after school, and Sergey—a musician from Omsk. The rest of the students were mostly girls, many of whom were already working in their field, like Masha—a photojournalist.
The session went smoothly, and our group actively interacted with others—sociologists and political scientists. We often crossed paths at the same lectures, which quickly brought us together. Gradually, our three groups studied side by side, and these acquaintances became part of the overall learning process.
I especially remember the philosophy exam. I had been interested in this subject for a long time and by then had read many books, deeply immersing myself in philosophical ideas. My past relationship with Vesta also played an important role: she often encouraged me to search for and study different philosophical concepts on the internet. This fueled my development, and thanks to this, in philosophy classes, I was one of the most active students, which the teacher immediately noticed.
At the exam, I drew a ticket with questions on Kant. Since I was only superficially familiar with his works, I felt unsure. I honestly admitted to the teacher: “I don’t know Kant’s works well enough.” He smiled and replied: “I thought Igor knew everything.” Nevertheless, I tried to give the fullest answer I could and eventually received a top grade in my record book. This moment was significant for me, and I was proud of my high evaluation in philosophy. My girlfriend Masha supported me throughout the session, which gave me extra confidence.
After we passed the last exam, our group decided to celebrate the event in the park by the river. We bought alcohol, including vodka and a few other drinks. At that time, I rarely drank and didn’t know how to handle myself under the influence of alcohol. At first, everything went great: we toasted, took photos, and enjoyed the end of the session. But soon I “lost it” and started behaving inadequately. This, no doubt, spoiled some classmates’ attitudes toward me, and most gradually left.
However, Slava stayed. He came up to me, offered to keep drinking, and we continued together until late in the evening. At some point, under the influence of alcohol, I even broke my promise to Masha that I would quit smoking. Slava and I had a smoke, and although I had quit long ago, at that moment, it didn’t seem such a big deal since I was drunk. We walked and talked for a long time, and that evening a true friendship developed between us.
The next morning, I felt ashamed. I didn’t remember everything I’d done but clearly sensed that my behavior in front of the group had been far from the best. I felt like I had lost some of their respect. But above all, I felt ashamed before Masha. I had promised her I wouldn’t smoke again, and although I understood that alcohol played a role, I felt I’d let her down. When I confessed everything, Masha was upset. I felt awkward—maybe I hadn’t lived up to her expectations; I shouldn’t have drunk so much, and certainly shouldn’t have smoked.
Nevertheless, I didn’t return to the habit of smoking. It was a one-time slip—it happened and passed, leaving only an unpleasant aftertaste.
That’s how my first exam session ended—in the autumn of 2007. In 2008, I continued studying at university and working at my company in parallel. It was a relatively calm time: Masha and I took lots of walks, talked, and saved money for the future. She became an important person to me, taught me a lot, especially in everyday matters, for which I was very grateful.
The summer of 2008 was especially memorable on June 21, when the Russian national football team defeated the Netherlands 3:1 and reached the semi-finals of the European Championship. Later, there was a semi-final between Russia and Spain, in which Russia lost 0:3. Nevertheless, that day became special for me, because it was my first experience watching football with great interest. Masha shared in the excitement with me, and later my friend Lyosha joined us. That was also the first time I learned about some of the team’s players, for example, goalkeeper Igor Akinfeev from CSKA—mainly because Lyosha was a CSKA fan. The coach of the Russian national team at the time was Guus Hiddink, and his work greatly impressed me. When the Russian team won, we all experienced an incredible sense of joy! We went outside, and the whole city of Moscow was celebrating with us—the streets were filled with excitement and jubilation. That moment truly brought us together and made that night truly unforgettable.
