The man looked extremely serious. Valeria hesitated, for a second she thought that he threw the first thing he thought up so that she would simply fall behind or get scared.

- Be sure to scoff, huh?

- Oh, yes, I was waiting for the girl to return, - Vlad touched the girl's thigh, slowly stroked it, touching the hem of the dress, and boldly moved on.

“Stop the car,” she said quietly, trying to open the door that was locked.

- I'll stop if we come.

Lera hit the tinted glass with her palm.

- Tantrums? Bruises do not suit you, - notes of cynicism slipped in your voice, - so sit up straight.

Lera frowned and clenched her fists. Such threats have long caused rage, vividly destroying the instinct of self-preservation. Unexpectedly for himself, the man received a slap in the face.

- Your self-importance can prop up the heavens, if they suddenly start to fall, - Lera crossed her arms over her chest.

- Yes you in the end ohrenel!

He opened the glove compartment, in which, among other things, a familiar barrel appeared. Lera pressed herself against the car door, tracking every movement. She breathed a sigh of relief as the man took a pack of cigarettes, a gold lighter, and closed the glove box. Vlad quickly lit a cigarette, and, leaning back in his seat, took a deep drag, releasing a stream of translucent smoke.

The remaining two hundred meters they rode in silence, only the sound of the engine disturbed the silent scene. The man was smoking, filling the cabin with clouds of acrid smoke.

- We arrived, - he said, stopping at the entrance of a five-story new building.

Vlad left. Throwing away the cigarette butt, walked around the car and opened the door of Valeria. Grabbing her coat, she left her seat, standing right in front of the man.

- Thanks. I will go.

Without giving even a step, Vlad grabbed her neck with his hand, pulling her to him.

- Let's meet ... In a week, - he whispered, touching his earlobe.

- What for? She pulled back slightly, unobtrusively releasing herself from the grip.

Vlad hid his hands in his pants pockets, persistently waiting for consent. The look has changed. A sincere request was interspersed with his native arrogance.

"Okay," Laura nodded. “Then, see you soon.

- Definitely, - he smiled with satisfaction and allowed the girl to pass.

She walked towards the entrance without looking back, and quickly disappeared from sight. The girl was fast asleep, not responding to the second phone call. Ten minutes later there was a third. Being half asleep, Lera tried to find the source of the sound, to no avail moving her hand along the bedside table. Finally, something metallic fell to the floor, making a dull sound. Cursing, she opened her eyes and picked up her phone.

"Yes," she answered the call, wrapping herself tighter in the blanket.

- Happy holiday to you! - a cheerful exclamation of a friend was heard.

“Ah, thanks, Tim,” the girl mumbled sleepily.

- Come to the bar. Stop sitting at home, - his voice sounded against the background of quiet music and the clinking of dishes.

- No, Tim. Now I can't.

- Well, yes, I hear, - the man grunted skeptically. - Is your dad at home?

No, he's gone somewhere. And what? – indifferently asked the girl, almost returning to sleep.

- Fine. Get up and fix yourself up. I'm calling a taxi to your address.

- Not! She said that she didn’t ... - characteristic beeps were heard, the man hung up. - Damn.

Lera threw the phone on the terry carpet and reluctantly lit the table lamp. In an instant, a dim light scattered faintly around the room. The girl slowly stood up, rubbed her face with her palms, and went to the bathroom. She stopped and glanced at the wooden framed photographs littering the beige wall. The funny moments of her life are forever preserved on thick paper.

Attention was drawn to the photo with the same Timothy. Valeria's birthday, Tim hugs the girl with one arm, holding in the other a chocolate two-tiered cake, on which twenty-two candles burn brightly. Lera smiled, and, rubbing her eyes, lazily dragged herself into the shower.

Twenty minutes later, dressed in black jeans and a leather jacket, she was fixing her makeup in front of the mirror. The girl was lightly dabbing black shadows on her eyelids when the phone made a short, loud beep. A message from Timofey that a taxi has arrived and below is the car number. She threw her phone into her backpack and, grabbing her keys from the bedside table, left the apartment.

I left the entrance, and instantly felt the rainy mood of my native city. A cold wind ruffled the skirts of the jacket and carefully styled hair. After comparing the license plates of the car, the girl hurried to get into the car. Closing the door, Valeria drew attention to a strange man at the entrance.

The stranger alternately glanced at the screen of his phone, then at Valeria, as if trying to determine if it was her. The taxi pulled away. Half the way, Lera nervously looked around, as if trying to look out for something suspicious. But having decided that she was becoming a victim of paranoia, she stopped rushing about.

***

Weak illumination of the huge hall - overhanging chandeliers in the form of bulky candlesticks with sham lit candles, did not allow the light to spread throughout the room. They only reinforced the cozy, relaxed atmosphere of the place. The concept of dark wood and stone in the interior gave a feeling of comfort.

As usual, the classics of Russian rock sounded unobtrusively from the speakers built into the walls.

At one of the tables, sat a group of men. They, publicly, chatted about the political miscalculations of different countries. They drank to bad behavior and made fun of each other. A new story, which now all the guests of the institution knew, and the company again exploded with loud laughter.

The people did not express dissatisfaction with the noisy company. But the behavior of these men terribly annoyed the girl who was sitting at the bar. Valeria, for the umpteenth time, nervously turned around, looking around at the loud guys.

- Idiots. Timon, kick them out! - she threw the bartender, quickly pouring whiskey into a glass.

- Are you kidding me?! The blonde man grinned. These are my regular clients. Maybe kick you out?

Lera's face twisted into a grimace of contempt. And the girl, without delay, drank the contents of the pile, not taking her eyes off Timofey. His wheaten hair, combed back, took on a completely unnatural color in this light.

“By the way, you are also loud,” whispered Timofey, in the voice of a lover, leaning slightly towards Valeria.

- Why am I here? – ignoring the words of a friend, she asked.

- What for? Don't you want to chat with a friend you haven't seen in a long time? The man smiled sincerely.

- Yes, about a friend. When is Nikita arriving? I really haven't seen him in a long time. I missed you, - Valeria said caustically.

- Bitch, - Tim leaned forward and looked intently into her eyes. Nick should be back soon. Why don't you call him?

- The phone is switched off.

Timofey stepped back and quickly put a small red gift box on the counter, in the center of which there was a black bow. Lera looked at the man in surprise.

- Almost a modest gift. Happy March 8, - lightly touched her nose with his fingertip, as if congratulating the child.

- Thank you, Tim, - she smiled, pushing the gift aside.

The man chuckled and went to serve the guests who sat down at the bar a few seconds ago. Lera poured herself a new portion, and again burned her throat with an amber liquid.

‍​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌‍ She set her empty glass down with a bang and looked at the tall, broad-shouldered bartender.

The man reached for his knife and began peeling and cutting the fruit.