In a Bar in Vienna After Defeat

They sat together in the dim light of the back room, at the table behind Andrei sat a a couple figures playing akis at the table. An empty Saperavi bottle fell to the concrete floor with a sharp, hollow clink and rolled, no one picked it up. Roman watched them call for another bottle and when it was brought signalled the barman over to him and asked for two more glasses of vodka, one with ice, one without. Andrei looked up to him bleary eyed,

"What now? We sit here in this shithole, just waiting, we wait to go home. Saint Petersburg was still cold when I left, Marinochka tells me now it's warm and the flowers are blooming. I want to go back there and remember and forget everything here." He spoke slowly and deliberately with what seemed something kin to anger to Roman.

"Life goes on, it goes straight on like a rod, and we walk it like a tightrope. Before I came to Moscow, I was in hell, there were no summers it seemed, the sky was always dark. It was not the sky though, it was me. It was sunny and warm and the grass was growing all over. I stood at the banks of the Volga and shouted. Now you see me smile out there, all the time."

"We're not in Moscow or Volgograd or Saint Petersburg, Roman, we're in Vienna...I hate Vienna, I will always hate Vienna."

"There's no point. Go home to Mari and enjoy the flowers in Saint Petersburg. I will go back to Moscow and be with my daughter, my wife, we will not forget this, but we don't have to be here."

"I'd rather leave my corpse to stink here, so that they'd have to smell it when they walked down the streets."

"Why here? Why not Barcelona?"

"Fuck Barcelona."

"Sure." The glasses came and Andrei took his sloppily from the barman's hand, spilling a little as he brought it to his lips. Roman, gave a look of reassurance to the barman and tipped him a few extra euros. He looked back past Andrei as he sipped the vodka at the game. Yuri seemed to be winning, and he thought that was good, he'd been drinking his money away since they left Russia, the nerves he thought, and he worried for him. He smiled though, to see him in as good of spirits as could be felt right now.

"What are you smiling at, huh?" Said Andrei in almost a growl.

"Why shouldn't I be? We have done well, better than anyone even expected. Is that not something to be happy and proud of?"

"Fuck that, it's over now...we're finished. We may as well kill ourselves." And as Roman heard those words, he felt rage.

"Barman," he shouted, staring towards the bar in back, angrily. The barman came up and he whispered into his ear.

"No, no, sir...I can't do that. I can't do that."

"Do this now," he said staring at Andrei and handing the barman a hundred euro note. The barman took it reluctantly and walked back to the bar, he brought back two more glasses, both without ice this time, and an old pistol. He set down the glasses, and put the pistol on the table in between them, then left to the bar. Roman finished his first drink, and then the new one, never taking his eyes of Andrei. The barman returned and set a bullet on the table.

"Put it in," Roman said, leaning forward, his arms on the table on either side of the pistol. The barman picked up the gun and began inserting the bullet.

"Let's do it then, let's kill ourselves right now."

"What the fuck, Roman, have you lost it?"

"You wanted to kill yourself, you wanted us to kill ourselves, here it is." The akis game had stopped, everyone in the back room was looking over at them. Sergei came up to them as the pistol was being placed between them,

"This is crazy, Roman, what are you doing?"

"Stay out of this, Sergei, this is between us."

"You're not acting like yourself, my boy, don't do this."

"You may be our captain out there, but here we are our own...and we must do what we must, right, Andrei?" Andrei picked up his drink and rolled his eyes, begining to stand. Roman grabbed him by his wrist and yanked him back down to the table.

"Finish your drink." It was silent in the bar, there was elecricity and fear flowing through it. It was almost all their own in there. A light murmur could be heard from the street, cheers and songs. Andrei lifted the glass to his mouth with anger in his eyes. Staring straight at Roman, he finished the vodka and set down the glass. He pushed it off the table, it shattered on the floor. They both sat back, the barman holding up the gun, spinning the barrel and setting it on the table, asked if they were ready. They replied yes, staring into eachother.
He spun the gun.
It rotated quickly, rocking a little, then slowing, it's deadly end passed each man again and again. It slowed and settled, the barrel pointing firmly at Andrei. He glanced down at it, while Roman's eyes never moved. He looked back up, and Roman could see the fear in them. They sat in silence, staring again at eachother. The gun between them, as hot as a fire. Andrei was sweating.

"I won't do it."
Roman picked up the gun and held it to his own head.
He pulled the trigger, it's click resonating in the silence.
He pointed it at Andrei, pulling the trigger, it's click hidden under the gasps and shouts of the room.
He pointed it back to his head and pulled the trigger.
The room came alive, all the silence was gone, it was roaring inside, as the gun was grabbed from Roman's limp hand resting on the table now. Sergei held the gun in his hands awkwardly. People were shouting in many languages. The barkeep stood still and set a bullet on the table, taking the gun from Sergei and walking back to the bar, shaking his head.
Roman sat in his chair laughing.
Andrei sat in his chair motionless, seemingly paralyzed. Roman smiling at him while he laughed. He composed himself some, picking up the bullet, holding it up with his thumb and forefinger.

"Now, Andrei...now all of us, can we celebrate our successes, not our failures. We have far outdone expectation. Tonight is a night to celebrate!" he shouted.
A brief silence followed, then was interrupted by music from behind the bar. The bar erupted in shouts again, except for Andrei and Roman. Roman stood and walked to Andrei, taking him in his arms.

"I'm sorry, my friend, you were talking crazy. Go call Marinochka, we will walk the streets when you get back. We will be praised and heckled and love it all. Tell her you love her and will see her soon. She'll tell you she's proud of you." Roman put the bullet into Andrei's hand and closed it around it. Andrei got up shakily and went to the phone where Marinochka told him what Roman had said she would.