Has anyone ever told you that you are just something?

      Alice frantically ran her eyes over the letter that the postman had just handed her. On the white envelope, a bright red spot showed the block letters - “personal delivery.” The girl closed the front doors and put the letter on the kitchen table, taking a couple of steps back from it, still glaring at the envelope. She crossed her arms over her chest, biting the skin on the side of her nail.              "What are you afraid of more - rejection or approval?"              She couldn’t find the answer to this question in her head and was stunned. Exactly like her nephew’s questions on the topic “where do children come from” or “why can’t adults stop arguing”? All this caused a slight chill and thoughtful confusion in her. But who will answer all the questions for herself, except herself?       Taking more air into her lungs, the girl stepped forward and in one sharp movement opened the envelope. Taking out the letter, she very slowly exhaled all the air as she read. Unintelligible feelings came flooding back. She slowly sank into the chair, digesting what she had written.       The phone rang in her pocket, lighting up a photo of her editor.              - Darling, hello. I wanted to ask you what about the new article?       - Hello, Richard. I worked tirelessly all evening, I’ll send you a draft in about twenty minutes.       - And how lucky was I to meet such gold?       - I don’t even know! Just think about what you did in your past life.       - Ulcer, - Richard chuckled contentedly. - What’s wrong with your new apartment, has it been approved?       Hearing the question, Alice realized that she could not restrain her smile. Her fingers were habitually numb from the upcoming events. She hit herself on the forehead with her palm, reproaching herself for the doubts she had felt earlier, and squealed joyfully.              - I'm moving!       The cold wind crept under her coat as soon as she got out of the taxi. But this could not at all darken her mood. Her hands confidently clasped the handle of a small suitcase, and she quickly walked towards the airport building. The electronic board displayed the treasured word “Boston” and at the reception desk, Alice did not doubt what was being done for a second.              Three and a half hours into the flight and the city of her dreams appeared through the window. Leaving the airport building, she immediately dialed her old friend, Donna Graham, who promised to meet her immediately upon arrival. But before he could press the call, loud horn beeps sounded in front. Donna opened the passenger seat window and shouted, “Girl, your carriage has arrived!” Despite the fact that she called the carriage a 2013 Cadillac, Alice happily rushed to meet her friend.       - Well, shall we go right away or should we throw my things at my place first? - Donna asked as they drove through the city center.       - Let's come to you first. I meet at 17:00 with the realtor at the apartment, she will just hand me the keys and my remaining things will be delivered by the same time. You won't be offended if I go on a date with my dream alone today, will you?       - So be it. For the first time I will forgive you. - She winked playfully and turned onto Beacon Street.       - You will be the first to appear in this house besides me.       - I’ll take you at your word, freckle.       Donna's apartment was on the 17th floor, from which Alice was able to see a little of what was now her own city. The variety of glass buildings in the Donna area was amazing. The place where Alice bought the apartment was completely different. It was a quiet area of brick buildings. The atmospheric appearance of her house was perfectly complemented by small streets paved with stone, and the ancient facades gave some special character to this place. Once upon a time, she first saw this house on an advertising brochure found on her father’s desk, and she could no longer get it out of her head.       - How do you feel? - Donna’s feminine hand laid on her shoulder in a familiar way.       - I still don’t believe in what I see and what I will see soon.       - I'm so damn glad that you'll be around now! - The friend rushed over with hugs.       “You’ll regret it,” Alice joked, patting her hand.       - Oh, dear, don’t get your hopes up!       At five minutes to five, the girl stood near the entrance to the house of her dreams. Marble staircase, black railings, wide ivory door. Her apartment was on the second floor of a three-story building, and she peered into the shiny windows with all her eyes, trying to see at least a little of what she saw in the photo. Someone will say that she is crazy for deciding to buy an apartment without even examining it in person. But this was not necessary. One condition really reassured Alice, no matter how strange it was - the owner of the apartment wanted to remain incognito because he is a famous person, as the realtor then secretly shared and assured that she had never seen a more tidy apartment. Although this raised doubts in my head, it still did not help me decide. Probably someone would have thought that Alice had made some more rational attempts to make a final decision, but she solved this issue as best she could - she threw a penny, wishing that if the reverse came up, she would transfer the deposit for the apartment. And so it happened.       - Alice Whittam?       - Yes?       A woman approached the girl and extended her hand, not holding back her radiant smile.       - Melissa, "Ropewalk Boston". Forgive me, but I am still impressed that your surname so wonderfully coincided with our river - Witham.       - I deeply hope that this is a sign.       - Let me hand it to you, - Melissa took the keys out of her purse and handed them forward.       Alice, with slightly trembling hands, took the keys and, turning around, stepped onto the first step. Excitement enveloped her completely, which made her even have to draw more air into her lungs in order to calm down at least a little.       The apartment was exactly as she had seen it in the photo: large, bright windows let in a lot of light; the dark parquet floor with white walls created some kind of charming contrast. Another pleasant bonus was that the previous owner wanted the apartment to be purchased only with furniture, valuing everything that had accompanied his life for a long time. And Alice was just the person who was looking for this, not wanting to spend money on transporting bulky things from Chicago and driving through stuffy shopping centers in search of a mattress. In addition, she more than once caught herself thinking that she would like to treat things more carefully and calm down her frantic desire to consume. A solution was found - for each thing to come up with its own story about the past, describe the present and hope for the future. Is it possible to part with something that goes from “just a thing” to “a witness and companion of your life”?       A little later, the transport company delivered the small number of things from Chicago that were dear to her heart. The main stars of this move were a Queen record signed by Mercury himself, which she purchased for fabulous money, a set of chairs from a cut of oak that she created with her own hands, and a bat that White Sox batter Tadd Fisher accidentally threw at her during warm-ups when she came to their club to write another article. Alice carefully picked up the bat and threw it into the air with a twisting motion, deftly catching it near the floor.       Having quite quickly dealt with a couple of boxes and putting all the things in their places, Alice decided to take a walk around the apartment. She ran her hand along the wall of the corridor and slowly walked to the very end. Closing her eyes, she imagined how framed photographs of family members hung on these walls and with what pleasure they periodically stopped to remember the events of the past. On the bedroom door frame she saw small notches - "C.E." Maybe these are the initials of the previous owner? The lines seemed to have been cut out with a sharp knife, judging by the straight, sharp lines. The girl mechanically touched the scar above her eyebrow. Maybe in this way he wanted to leave the same scar that will forever remain on the body of this apartment? Alice carefully stroked the cool wall.       "I hope that I will be a worthy lodger for you, dear"       Towards nightfall, a real storm broke out outside the window. The rain was knocking on the window in large drops, calling to let him in. But Alice knew that this was a trick - even since childhood, when she wet all her drawings by opening the window in her room during a thunderstorm.       Lightning flashed, illuminating the living room with a bright light where Alice was sitting, talking on the phone with Donna.       - Well, share, how was your date?       - Very good. We are getting to know each other, getting to know each other so far only from the best sides, but I think we can’t do without surprises. - Alice laughed a little, hoping in her heart that she wouldn’t have to replace the faucet in the bathroom, which once broke in her previous apartment.       - Well, I hope you'll introduce me!       - Darling, you will be the first to set foot in this apartment after me!       - Oh, I'll take you at your word. Don't you dare break my heart!       After talking like this for a couple of hours about everything and nothing, Alice realized that for the last minute she had not heard any comments from her friend. After lifting the phone from my ear and pressing the lock button several times, the screen showed no signs of life. The girl put it on the table and, wrapping herself better in a blanket, pulled her legs towards her. The soft pile of the sofa pleasantly caressed my bare feet. How could you find such a comfortable sofa? Having stretched sweetly, so that a sweet bliss ran from her fingertips to the very top of her head, Alice stood up, picking up the blanket behind her, and went to what was now her bedroom. Climbing under a soft blanket, the girl fell asleep soundly after a long tiring day, wishing the new place the most pleasant dreams.       The interior of the car swam funny in the man’s eyes. He heartily celebrated the next Academy Award and was pretty drunk. Although he had to put on the most charming smile on his face all evening, another ended romance could still ruin his mood. Having found the keys in his jacket pocket, he squeezed them tightly in his hand so as not to lose them and not be torn apart by onlookers who would see him near the front doors in the morning. The stairs floated before my eyes, not allowing me to climb as quickly as I wanted. So Chris walked slowly up each step, holding onto the railing the entire time. What surprised the man most about himself was how deftly he opened the door without digging through the keyhole. He walked into the familiar hallway and, groaning, leaned forward to unlace his leather shoes. But unable to keep his balance, he fell forward, barely holding back his laughter. He only remembered himself in this state in his youth. Back then, such drinking sessions were a must on every Friday and Saturday, without burdening your head with a morning hangover. But that was ten years ago. Tomorrow he will probably lie in bed all day, cursing himself for the mistake he made. Walking along the corridor, Chris took off his uncomfortable jacket and, opening the doors to the bedroom, slowly sat down in bed, because any sudden movement caused such dizziness that he was afraid of breaking his forehead on the wooden floor. Gently touching the pillow, unable to find the strength to undress completely, Chris inhaled the delicate aroma of bed linen and fell asleep.       He woke up only when he felt soft skin under his hand. Opening his eyes, he saw that someone was lying next to him.              "Dakota?"              The man moved closer with pleasure, hugging the girl. He was incomparably happy that she decided to visit him that night, because he missed him incredibly, despite understanding the need for separation. The still intoxicated mind did not see any obstacles to running his hand upward along the tender arm, shifting the touch to the woman’s breast. He pressed his lips to her smooth neck and was surprised by the smell. Usually he always smelled some sweet fruity aromas on her, but now she smelled of the forest in which he had once walked far away as a child. The smell of something long forgotten and dear, which he missed incomparably, completely turned his head. He inhaled her scent deeply and, no longer finding the strength to restrain himself, ran his hands over the girl’s body, quenching his surging thirst. But instead of the expected moan and mutual caresses, he heard a loud squeal and a rough push in the chest. The girl broke away from his passionate embrace and jumped off the bed, running to the window, grabbing something in her hands. Chris rolled over as quickly as he could, reaching for the switch, feeling distinctly dizzy. The bright light hit his eyes painfully, and without turning back too quickly, he could only discern some movement in front of his face, and then a strong pain in his lower jaw.              - Who the fuck are you?!              An unfamiliar female voice, like a splashing stream of icy water, washed over him in a frosty wave, washing away most of his intoxication. Rolling out of bed, Chris held his lower jaw and looked ahead in surprise. It was clearly not Dakota. Instead of blond hair, he saw a tousled mop of black hair, blue eyes were replaced by emerald sparkle, and pumped lips gave way to medium, neat lips. In her hand the girl held the cause of his severe pain - a bat.              - Who are you?! - Chris flared up, realizing that some girl had somehow broken into his apartment.       - What?! This is my apartment! - She held the wooden tool in front of her, without lowering it an inch.       -Are you crazy?! I live here!              Chris didn’t know whether such loud bickering had awakened the neighbors and whether they had already called the police, but seeing how the girl’s wide eyebrows crawled up, describing the obvious doubt inside, he took advantage of her confusion and, taking a quick step forward, deftly snatched the bat from the women’s hands. hands She ran her green eyes over his face, looking for some answer for herself. But suddenly her confusion immediately disappeared, giving way to fierce rage.              - I bought this apartment a week ago! This is where I live!              She ran to the window, and taking flower pots in her hands, one by one, furiously threw them at her offender. Chris dodged the flower missiles, realizing what he had done. The words about buying an apartment were stirred up by the bitter memory of the difficult decision to sell to some buyer from Chicago, even after receiving the money into the account. It turns out that he broke into a complete stranger’s apartment and attempted rape. This is exactly what the newspaper headlines will be full of the day after tomorrow if he somehow doesn’t resolve the situation now.              - Please calm down. Do you know me? I'm a famous actor...              But before he could finish speaking, she interrupted him:       - Yes, even the Pope!              Chris ran out of the room, dodging another flower, realizing that the girl clearly had no intention of calming down. He stopped outside the bedroom door and tried to convey to her from there what he thought would solve this difficult situation.              - I got the wrong way and mistakenly told the driver to come to my old apartment! I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, but I was very drunk!       - Now you won’t just confuse the road, you’ll come face to face with it, flying from the second floor!              Alice flew out of the bedroom, holding in her hands the heavy figurine with a huge dragon that she had once bought in the Chinese district of Chicago.              - You bought an apartment from me! – Seeing a girl in front of him with a new instrument of his torture, he raised his hands up, covering his head, and shouted the last thing that was in his arsenal.              Alice stopped the hand that was already swinging for a throw. She recalled that the realtor had hinted at some celebrity. Trying to remember his face in the bedroom, she could not imagine anything except his hands, which she watched closely, trying to understand the intentions of the one who had just tried to rape her. In the dimness of the corridor, the man's face was hidden in shadows.       Seeing that the girl had stopped, Chris slowly reached out his hand to the bathroom switch that was nearby. Light streamed from the open door.              - I'm Chris Evans, ma'am, and I'm very, very sorry for this misunderstanding!       - You broke into my house and just almost raped me! - The girl still looked incredulously.       - I recently broke up with my girlfriend and thought that she decided to return and was... Glad, so to speak.       - And I would be damn glad if you kept your joy to yourself!              Alice barked again, but seeing the familiar face of Captain America, she found no reason not to believe his story. Can’t a famous and well-known person really break into other people’s houses and rape women? At least, she hoped that this was impossible, slowly lowering her hand, still closely watching his movements. Chris lowered his raised hands up and gently grabbed his chin. Severe pain throbbed in my jaw, not giving me a moment's rest.              -You have a pretty powerful blow... - Evans tried to joke, still looking at the girl with apologetic eyes.       - Go to the kitchen.              She looked at the man peremptorily and pointed her hand down the corridor. Evans obediently walked forward, feeling the new owner of his apartment following him with a cautious step. Entering the kitchen, he was ordered to sit on a chair and wait. In the living room he knew well, which was adjacent to the kitchen, several flowers and transparent tulles appeared that covered the windows. Bright pillows lay on the sofa with armchairs, attracting attention. Chris looked longingly at the things around him and was undoubtedly glad that all the transformations fit perfectly into his ideas about the apartment that was dear to his heart.              - Here, attach it. - The girl stepped softly towards him, holding a bag of frozen vegetables in her hands. He even thought he saw regret on her face.              She immediately took a few steps back, hiding behind the kitchen island.              - You don't need to be afraid of me. I won't hurt you, I promise! Evans vowed, pressing an ice pack to his throbbing chin.       - The man whose hand was in my pants a few minutes ago told me. - The girl tried to joke, blushing.       - Well... I have nothing to cover up here... - Chris grinned wryly, once again experiencing a feeling of shame. - May I know your name?       - Alice.       - As I already said, I'm Chris. Nice to meet you as much as possible.              He embarrassedly patted the top of his head with his free hand and looked at Alice, who smiled cautiously back at him. - I'm such a cretin, sorry again!       - I need to change all the locks as quickly as possible.       - This is the right decision after what happened. “What if I lose my memory again,” the man laughed, glancing at the girl.              His attention was caught by a T-shirt, which he only just noticed. On it, in bright letters, was the inscription “Chicago Tribune,” which, when he looked into it, sent shivers down the man’s spine. This simply cannot be.              - Alice, are you... A journalist?       -Yes,” the girl nodded good-naturedly, realizing that now Evans would feel the full horror of the situation into which he had brought himself.              Chris swallowed nervously. The thought that tomorrow there will be a photo of him on the front page and a headline about how he tried to rape a young girl by breaking into her bedroom has never been so real. The ground seemed to disappear from under his feet, and he reluctantly lowered his hand with the package down.       Alice saw his face turn gray.              - I won’t write anything about this, I promise.        “This would be excellent material for your article,” Chris was cautious, not trusting her words.       - It’s hard to disagree, but... A career is never worth ruined lives.              Alice stared thoughtfully at the tabletop in front of her. A painful memory burst into her consciousness as quickly as the whole morning commotion. Once upon a time, Alice's life was divided into before and after. In 2001, Charlotte Whittam left home and left her father with a 9-year-old child. She believed in her future, in herself, but not in a position that obliged a young woman to come to terms with the role of a mother. She wanted to become someone more significant, not realizing what place she occupied in the heart of her child. From then on, Alice never saw her mother's face again.       - This is very important for me and...               “I understand,” Alice interrupted him. “So I promise I won’t tell anyone.”              She persistently looked into the man’s eyes, convincing him of what was said. If Alice promised not to tell anyone her secrets, then you could be sure that she would go to the grave with them.              - If this is true, then... I don’t even know how to thank you.              Chris was still incredulous, but already looked at the girl with gratitude.              - Damn it, don't break into my apartment again, and we'll be even!       - I’ll hold on with all my strength,” Evans said and laughed embarrassedly.       Later, standing outside the front door of what was once his apartment, he looked at Alice and felt some kind of incompleteness.       - Alice, really, I apologize again and I hope that your words about the article... - he couldn’t find the right words to correctly express his thought. Doubt still tore at his head, and he could not find a place for himself. Also, as luck would have it, his eyes began to water from the bright morning sun that filtered through the windows of the entrance. He must have looked quite pitiful. But it didn't matter. The main thing is that what happened never comes to light. The girl asked him to wait and went back to the kitchen, returning literally a minute later.       - Be calm, - she handed him a folded table napkin, with which he hastily wiped his eyes and looked at Alice hopefully. - And forget the way to my house, Mr. Evans!       A ringing laugh ran through the empty corridor, and the front door closed in front of his very nose.       Coming out of the entrance, the man took a deep breath of fresh air, which did not forget to run through his body with a slight coolness. The sun was still annoyingly creeping into his face, not giving Chris a chance to see clearly in front of him, blurring his eyes with tears. He again brought the napkin to his face, and wiping away more tears with it, he noticed something dark. Black ink saturates a white napkin:       “I am Alice Whittam, I swear and give my word of honor that what happened on the night of July 6, 2019 will forever remain between two people who suffered irreparable losses in the form of honor and jaw, but remained unshakable in your oath. Signed: Alice Whittam."       A smile crept onto her plump lips and didn’t want to leave them. A black Audi drove up to the entrance, driven by Evans' driver, whom he had called literally ten minutes ago. Reluctantly going down the steps, Chris approached the car door, intending to leave the place where he had spent more than eleven years and forget tonight forever. But unfortunately for him, it was an event that would always breathe down his back, causing a slight fear that one day he might be exposed. But this napkin. Has he ever been so embarrassed, scared and at the same time unable to remove the smile from his face? The man's hand froze on the handle, without opening the car door. The glass slowly lowered.       - Mr. Evans, can I help you? – Jared, who was looking worriedly at his employer, was already planning to get out of the car, although from the very beginning of the service he had received orders to always wait for Chris in the car and not open the doors for him, as if he were an important shot.        “No, no,” Evans jabbered and turned around on his own two feet, coming a little closer to the windows of the girl’s apartment.       - Alice! “He shouted at the top of his voice, hoping that she would hear. Some passers-by, still sleepy, fearfully shied away from the man, frightened by a sharp cry. - Alice!       Jared got out of the car, staring at the man in confusion.       - Mr. Evans, they will recognize you!       - Alice! – he did not give up, increasing the volume of his scream.       The glare from the second floor window rippled across the eyes of the screaming man. The perplexed face of his new friend appeared in the window.       - Why are you shouting?       Chris raised his napkin above him and, smiling from ear to ear, said:       - Has anyone told you that you are just something?