Sergey Lazarev

Dima and Sergey had been together for a long time, and Bilan had a son. His name was Nikita, and he was now five years old. Dima was in the North Caucasus Military District. One day, he decided to send Sergey a video of a song. It was sent at 3:20 AM. In the video, Dima is wearing a military uniform, with an old microphone on a homemade stand in front of him, and two fellow soldiers behind him. One is playing a guitar, the other a flute. Tears are welling in Dima's eyes, and he's singing.

– It’s a dark night, only bullets whistle across the steppe, Only the wind hums in the wires, the stars twinkle dimly. In the dark night, my love, I know you don’t sleep, And by the baby's crib you secretly wipe away a tear. How I love the depth of your gentle eyes, How I want to press my lips to them now! The dark night separates us, my beloved, And the disturbing, black steppe lay between us. I believe in you, my dear hope, This faith saved me from a bullet on a dark night... I am happy, I am calm in a mortal battle, I know you will meet me with love, no matter what happens to me. Death is not scary; we have encountered it more than once in the steppe. And now she is circling above me. You're waiting for me and you don't sleep by the baby's crib, And that’s why I know: nothing will happen to me!

The song was quiet and slow, Dima sang it as if he were whispering it directly into Sergei's ear. Distant gunshots could be heard in the background. Sergei sat in front of his phone, by the child's bed, lulling Nikita to sleep and watching Dima's video.