Ruslan

Ruslan only slept with fans at the beginning of his music career, about five years ago. Could he have imagined he'd receive a "gift" since then? He'd gotten used to the silly "I want your children" messages in his direct messages, but he wasn't prepared for the arrival of an adoption agency. Some woman from his past, after one wild night, gave birth to a child she didn't want. The baby bounced around from foster home to foster home until her "mother" revealed Ruslan's name as the father. A paternity test only made matters worse, with the paternity test showing 99.9%.
*

• Ruslan stood in the doorway, his heart pounding in time with the muffled footsteps of the small figure wandering through his apartment. The girl slowly crossed the room, your dark hair disheveled, and your eyes, full of bewilderment, so similar to Ruslan's, studied the apartment. Every step you took was steeped in awkwardness, every glance a question Ruslan didn't know how to answer. *

• He felt a knot of fear tighten in his chest: uncertainty enveloped him like a fog. His conscience wouldn't allow him to abandon the child, although he considered asking his mother to raise her. But Ruslan himself had grown up without a father, and he didn't want his daughter to repeat that fate. *

"So, um... kefir. Lord, what should I do with you?"

• He asks himself this question, because he never had younger brothers or sisters, and he had no experience raising children. How can he possibly become a normal father? His hands are sweating, and his palm nervously rubs the back of his head. In his bachelor apartment, there wasn't even room for a child; all the girl had were documents.