Locust - First Season

To live one’s life...

lips-- reproach-- death--

How did we meet? How old were we?

EPISODE ONE

Twenty-one? Twenty-two?

We were still kids.

I don’t know what it was.

Was it pure chance, or was it fate?

If he’d had time to shower that morning, I wouldn’t have noticed him at all.

Where have you been? I’m losing dough ’cause of you.

Stop whining.

I’m not whining.

Some serious clients.

What reeks?

Sorry. I was out of time. I just got out of the smokehouse.

-Hello. -Hello.

We’re here to build the gazebo.

How much do you want?

Wait here.

How much?

-Valya! -Yes?

-The carpenters are here. -Uh-huh.

You know how much money I gave the bank? Everything’s in the project.

I used the last of it for the summer house.

My baby will be in the city, and there are no neighbors.

And get this! It’s just 200 yards to the beach.

Take notes, rookie!

Gotta go. The carpenters are here.

So, youngsters? You think you can get it done in a day?

There’s a bonus if you do.

Hi, everyone.

Hello.

The princess is awake.

You’re up early today. The sun’s still out.

-That’s enough, Dad. -Use sunscreen.

Hey!

Don’t even think about it.

Get to work.

Hey, who reeks of fish?

That’s me.

I spent the night in a smokehouse.

It smells disgusting. I’m going inside.

Hey, we’re not finishing today.

What do you mean? I promised we would.

We’ll be back tomorrow. Got it?

Hey! Please wait.

You... keep tanning.

I’ll shower.

I’m Artem, by the way.

Lera.

Pardon me.

This guy is great!

When we play cards, he always wins.

Especially when we’re betting our clothes.

Listen, may I kiss you?

I’m a friend. It’s okay for me.

Come on! It’s okay.

Just like this.

Marat, knock it off.

Give you a drink and you can’t stop rambling.

Hey, you!

Lermontov!

I love you.

So...

Should we get going?

We’ll get going.

Bye-bye!

Bye-bye!

Katya, let’s go!

Katya!

Katya!

Katerina!

Why did he call you Lermontov?

Don’t I look like him?

Not really. He had a mustache.

How about now?

If you behave, I’ll tell you later.

You don’t have to tell me. You’re funny.

Listen. Some crazy stuff is about to go down.

And I’m out of fuel.

-The engine is too loud! -What?

The engine’s too loud! I can’t hear anything!

I can’t hear you! The engine’s roaring!

-I’m gonna go. Bye. -Wait.

-Give me your hand? -What for?

I’ll read your palm.

So, what do you see?

I don’t really know.

I don’t know a thing about this.

I just wanted to hold your hand.

I don’t know about your other girls, but that’s not gonna fly with me.

Okay then.

I’ll be back tomorrow.

Who asked you to?

Did I need to check with someone?

You’re also cocky.

Okay, I see. Bye then.

I write poetry. That’s why “Lermontov.”

Really?

My dad got me into it. I used to stutter a lot.

And I needed to talk to girls somehow.

-I’d write them notes. -In verse?

Well, yeah, in verse.

Well, read some.

I’ll read some tomorrow.

Will you write about me, Lermontov?

I already have.

They say happiness is being in love.

It always hurts in the end, but at first--

I was happy that night.

I didn’t realize how much I’d fallen for him.

As if I’d been lassoed.

Igor Yakovlevich, are you still up?

I had too much coffee.

You’re out late. A new friend?

Yes. He’s a local.

-Good night, Igor Yakovlevich. -Igor.

I’m not so old, am I?

Listen, do you need to use the Internet?

You can sit. I’ll share the coffee.

Thank you, Igor Yakovlevich, but I’m going to bed.

Sweet dreams. Igor.

Igor.

As usual.

Just in time. Dad!

Come on.

Get up. Come on! Let’s go to bed.

What are you doing? I’ve got this.

You’ve got this.

So, tell me about it.

-What? -You know what.

You’re all lit up. They can see your grin a mile away.

I met a girl. “She had crescent-moon eyebrows.”

Yeah.

Yeah...

You’re a different breed, Son. You’re like your mother.

She was a flirt too.

She was a flirt all her life.

Maybe she still is.

You can never understand women.

And who’s stopping you?

You could try the movies or the park.

You could invite Aunt Vera.

She’s got her eye on you.

Vera?

Are you comparing that scarecrow to your mother?

“And it’s better to be alone than to be with just anyone.”

Who said that?

Omar Khayyam.

That’s right.

Listen, I...

jotted down a few lines today.

Tenderness and pain.

Pain.

Pain.

I’ve gotten over others, not only you.

The wind will tear into the night.

Time doesn’t heal.

Begone. Begone.

This is all a dream.

My son, my essence.

My heart crashes into the temple.

Fate cuts me, like the lash of a whip.

Memories... are burning me.

Burning me.

Very good.

Dad, you’re the best.

So, let’s

drink to this.

Maybe that’s enough for tonight.

Stop lecturing your father.

Your wedding tackle isn’t big enough-- for now.

Here we go.

Well--

To you, Son.

You... should play the field.

Play the field, Artem.

But once you meet the one...

grab onto her with your teeth and hands

and keep her in a stranglehold.

Otherwise, you’ll keep running from one to the next,

like a desperate man.

Also an option, by the way.

How will I know if she’s the one?

You’ll know.

You’ll feel it, Son.

Your heart will tell you.

What if I already found her?

Today.

I’m trying to talk about serious things here.

And you’re being ironic again.

That’s enough for today, Dad. You’ll pass out again.

Burning me.

Dad, what is it?

It’s okay.

Let me take you to your room.

Don’t break--

Here we are.

This one is cool.

I actually like them. You surprise me.