Shane: Hey, uh, I have an idea. How about you tell me everything that’s on your mind, but in Russian? I won’t understand, but maybe it’ll help.
Ilya: OK. (in Russian): I never want to come back here again. I f-king hate it here. And they all f-king hate me. I pay for everything. I make sure everyone has clothes they like. I make sure the food is perfect, that Father is buried next to his parents, that the tomb is perfect. And the only f-king word I ever hear is: “I want more, Ilya. I need more, Ilya, more, more, more!” And I have nothing for these people! I give them everything… but I feel f-king empty. They don’t care. They look at me and they see a bank. Or an enemy. Or I don’t even know what. My brother, he always hated me. And I know why, but… it kills me. And it kills me that he took care of my father and I didn’t. But I couldn’t! I wasn’t here. I still paid for it all. And he will never forgive me. For any of it. For existing. And it means. I have no one now. Well, not no one. I have… Svetlana. She loves me. And I love her. But not like… F-k me. But not like I love you. That’s the worst f-king part of all this is… that all I want is you. It’s always you. I’m so in love with you, and I don’t know what to do about it. (in English): OK, I’m done.
Shane: Do you feel better?
Ilya: Yes. Thank you.
