Mysterious Stranger

Meanwhile, an absolutely shaggy and very sleepy Valentin appeared from the archive, who was tormented by nightmares all night. He cracked his stiff back loudly, which attracted attention to himself. But it looked like the real nightmare was still ahead. He woke up completely in a moment when he saw Ravil, whose appearance already said that he was a very respected man and if you don’t respect him, you’re fucked. Ravil turned his head towards Valentine and silently looked at this newcomer with curiosity, silently analyzing him. Shirokov froze with huge eyes, not even daring to breathe. Somehow, he immediately realized that this was Marat’s father. — “Well, it’s fucked up. He looks at me as if he’s ready to destroy me already…” — Said Shirokov in his thoughts. — Wow, Valentin, did you get to the department before anyone else? — Biryukov began to speak to break the dead silence. — Uh… yeah…? — Valya answered uncertainly, still occasionally glancing at the mayor, who was silently assessing the situation in the department, and at the same time the newcomer according to his personal criteria, which only he, Marat or Igor, as a person close to the Khaidarov family, could know about it. Everything would have been fine if it hadn’t been for Yurkov. — What are you, moron, did you sleep in the archive room?! Whoo!!! It’s a disgrace! — No! No, I’m not… — Tell me more about who the shame here, Yurkov, — Ravil said in a menacing tone, looking at Yurkov with the gaze of a formidable Doberman. — Well, at least I don’t spend the night in the department, unlike some people! At that moment, Ravil towered over the lieutenant colonel in the blink of an eye, glaring at him. Just a stern look was enough to shut anyone up. Even Yurkov. — But unlike you, he doesn’t humiliate Marat. I’ll have you out of here fast, as soon as I find a decent replacement for you. You’ve already annoyed everyone! — Well… it was because of him that Marat actually fell and injured his leg, — Yurkov tried to cast Valentine in a bad light in order to take all the sins away from himself. — I… I forgot to remove the carpet, or rather, I didn’t have time, I… — Valya tried to justify himself somehow, but he didn’t have to. — San Sanych showed me the recording from the camera. I’ve seen enough to know that you, Yurkov, are a fucking pain in the ass for the entire department. The mayor was not shy in his expressions. He was allowed to do this, so no one was surprised if he could swear in front of employees. Sometimes they didn’t understand it any other way. — In any case, it’s the rookie’s fault for not fulfilling a simple request! — Yurkov was still trying to argue with the higher authorities, but it was useless. — Yurkov, shut up! — Biryukov openly declared. After that, Khaidarov Sr. joined again. — It’s Your Fault. Stupid rump. A lower salary for you, otherwise your salary is too high. Stop blaming everything on the newcomer, he just came, and you’re already setting everyone up against him, you dumb pig, who’s as useless as a male goat that won’t give milk! Have you ever done anything useful for the department at all?! It’s a pity that there’s still no replacement for you, but as soon as there is, you’ll be out of here like a champagne cork! — Oh, it’s not my fault that this Valentine didn’t do what he was asked to do! — Shut up! — The mayor barked, after which he snapped his fingers and his men in work uniforms entered the department. The same internal audit that all departments of the city were afraid of. The slightest mistake will be a huge problem for the entire department. It was the only way to keep order. Ravil himself approached his son, covering him with his powerful back and leaned over to him, saying something to him. Igor joined them a minute later, as he was close to the Khaidarov family. Valentin watched from the side and tried to listen to understand what they were talking about. Meanwhile, Yurkov, like a damn vulture, was doing something next to Marat’s desk while no one was looking, while glancing sideways to make sure no one was watching. — As always, we’re all around poor, unhappy Marat, aren’t we? — With open mockery, even in front of Ravil, he said. At that moment, an incredible rage awoke in Valentine and he threw a chair in the direction of the lieutenant colonel, — What the fuck are you doing, you rabid dog?! — Yurkov shouted, barely managing to dodge the furniture that flew at him. The Khaidarovs and Biryukov instantly turned around, dumbfounded, staring at the enraged Valya, who simply went to beat Yurkov’s face. No one expected such a quiet man to show such hidden rage. Ravil even whistled slightly, not expecting such a concert, but nevertheless decided to go break up the brawlers. — One more word, Yurkov, and you won’t be in Gelendzhik anymore, — the elder Khaidarov growled, trying to separate the two fighting. At that moment, Yurkov roughly threw Valya away from him into the wall and he hit his back hard, — Yurkov, you damn bastard! — Why me? That crazy guy jumped on me first! — So that’s it! Both calmed down immediately! Why are you acting like wild animals from the forest?! — Ravil looked towards his son and began to lead him out of the room. Yurkov looked at Valya with a disgusted look. — And I told you all that a this new guy with an unstable mind. He’s a walking problem — You have a problem, — the mayor said finally, before leaving the room. Valya was already sitting silently at his desk, holding his bruised shoulder. — And you, Shirokov, you’ve fucked yourself up, — the lieutenant colonel chuckled, — Go write your report, you’re already out of here. Shirokov silently got up and left the room. At that moment, Ravil, who was standing there with his son, stopped him, grabbing his shoulder (healthy). — Back to your seat, Valentin, — Ravil commanded, looking down at Valya. Shirokov stared at him blankly. — But I already have nothing to lose, I really failed completely. — What did I just say? Get back in your seat, I’m telling you! — Ravil nudged him slightly in the back, back towards the room, like a puppy, — You’re not going to Mishin’s. At that moment, Marat almost began to fall. Ravil quickly picked him up. Valya was also nearby. Immediately, as if on cue, Igor came running. — Marik, what’s wrong with you? What’s wrong with him, Ravil? — Biryukov asked, holding Marat back too. — He’s not well, Igor… Take him home. I’ll come to him after the department showdown. — Good. Let’s go, Marat, — Igor took Marat by the arm and led him to the exit. Valya followed them. — What happened to him? Is there anything I can do to help? — We’ll figure it out, Valentin, — Ravil said, watching as Igor led Marat to the exit from the floor below. — Okay… — sighing softly, Shirokov headed towards the archive to get his things from there, but he was stopped again. — Stop, fighter — I’m standing… I just wanted to pick up my things and… Yurkov came out of the common room and stopped when he saw Ravil. The man looked at him sternly and frowningly. — Yurkov, you’re going to write an explanatory note to Colonel Mishin. — Yes, Ravil Alexandrovich. I’ll tell him everything. — Me too? — Valentin asked, realizing that he had also caused a lot of trouble because of his outbursts of aggression. — You don’t. The check did not find your guilt, Valentin. — What? It’s because of this stinking bug that it all started! All the problems! — Yurkov began to get indignant, exposing Valya to blame for all the sins of the department. — You, Yurkov, are writing for YOUR behavior and YOUR mistakes, — the mayor said menacingly, crossing his arms over his chest, — Do you understand me? — I see… — Yurkov realized that he needed to calm down a little, — Well, at least I’m not a clumsy bastard who breaks everything around him. It was also because of him that Marat actually fell. — Yurkov, shut up, — Ravil ordered, then pointed to the side, saying go ahead and write an explanatory note and don’t make me nervous Yurkov finally left, leaving Ravil and Valentin in the corridor, who went to the common room, where it was already empty and no one was there. — Well, he’s right. Not only that carpet, but I also managed to break a shelf in the morgue and drop the drugs from there.… Many crashed. And then i fainted in the morgue in front of Marat.… I really am a fucking bastard! — In anger at himself, Shirokov slapped the nearest table, which belonged to Igor, and thereby managed to drop a cup from the edge of the table. After that, he slowly turned his gaze to Ravil, who was silently listening to him and witnessed Biryukov’s broken cup, — I… I’ll buy a new one! Sorry! — I just went to get my phone, and here it is. Mmmm, Valentine, you’re just burning out! — Yurkov grinned, then took what he needed and left the room before Ravil destroyed it. Shirokov held his head, squinting slightly. — Why am I like this?… — It’s from excitement, — Ravil said calmly, then gently took him by the shoulder, leading him out of the room, — Let’s go talk. — I’m worried too much, — Shirokov was nervous, walking next to a very influential person, although he tried not to show it, — I’m usually more focused. I’m sorry, I’ll fix it. — I see you’re worried. It will pass. And yes, I don’t bite, — the elder Khaidarov grinned, looking at the newcomer with a condescending look. — I hope so. After all, the first day was extremely unsuccessful… And Marat Ravilevich doesn’t really trust me.… — Well, life played a cruel trick on him, let’s just say. And he won’t trust you that easily, Valentine. — Is refusing to help just carry packages to the car also a sign of strong distrust, or is it already harmful? — It’s a character, — Ravil grinned, shrugging his shoulders, — Called 'I’ll do everything myself.'” — I was just trying to get close to someone. Yurkov is generally a separate story. Sasha, well… he tried to protect me somehow. Igor Vasilyevich grumbles at me and does not trust me. And I’ve already fucked up in front of Marat Ravilevich several times, so I’m afraid I won’t earn any trust here.… — Heh, his trust is easier to gain than you think, Valentine. You need to know the approach. And, you know, at least you’re adequate, unlike the previous newcomers. — Are you sure about my adequacy? I threw myself at Yurkov and threw furniture at him.… — Well, that’s right, he’s already fucked everyone up. I approve. As it is, you are adequate in the sense that you understand that you have done a lot of bad things, but at the same time you want to improve and become a better person. Others just scored on their shoals, thinking that it was okay. Anyway, Val, here’s my advice: Don’t try to do something big. Just be confident in yourself, and then you’ll learn everything. — I’ll try, really. I’ll become more responsible and take my work seriously. — Just be confident in yourself. Steady and confident. — I’m trying, — Valya frowned slightly, clutching his phone in his pocket, full of threatening messages, — It’s not easy, but I’ll try, really. — I take it you have a problem? — Khaidarov Sr. asked, noticing Shirokov’s nervousness, which became even more noticeable when he clutched his phone in his pocket, the screen of which shone through the fabric of his shirt, due to constant notifications. — Well, how should I tell you… it’s just that my neighbors hate me and one of them is threatening to kill me, and so… Mundane matters. Well, who am I? I’m just a green lieutenant living in an old high-rise building where all the neighbors hate me because I accidentally flood someone from below, then the wiring burns down because of me, then something else… It’s hard to be sure when you’re afraid to return to your apartment… and when you realize that you’ve ruined your impression of yourself on your first day at the department. So much so that you weren’t even allowed to decorate it. They said i were ruining everything. — So, let me get you a hotel room, and then you’ll figure it out, — the mayor suggested, typing something into his phone. Shirokov was very surprised, not expecting such a turn of events. — Do you really want to help a beggar like me? How much should I pay you back later? I also owe Marat Ravilevich, because he paid for me at the store back then… — God, Val, for me it’s small money, just like for Marik. Don’t bother. — Well, I just have to thank you for your help somehow. And I wouldn’t want to get into debt.… — Oh, my God, what kind of debts, Val? By God you’re funny — Well, thank you very much. And yes, how long can I rent a room? — Well, let’s do it for a week, and then, if necessary, I’ll extend it later. — Thank you, you’re just saving me. And this Yuri scares me.… — Yuri? — Ravil looked at him questioningly, raising an eyebrow. Valentin showed him the house chat, where there were continuous outrages and discussions about the recent incident with electricity, where Yuri was particularly active. Ravil raised his eyebrows, realizing who Yuri was and looked away, muttering softly to himself. — He really scares me… — Valya said — I wonder what he’s doing in a neighborhood like this… Had he quarreled with his father… — Do you… know him? — Shirokov was no less surprised at this moment. — I know him. And his father. Oh, here he is by the way. — Who?! — Shirokov immediately hid behind the mayor when a man in a special uniform, age like Ravil and Igor (about 70), was in the hallway, leading a man by the collar of his clothes and roughly throwing him into the interrogation room. — Try to escape again, you filthy bastard! — The man growled, slamming the door, then turned to the two guards, — Where were you looking, you blind idiots?! There are two of you, and he is alone! Couldn’t you keep track?! Stupid worms! — Yura, stop swearing at them, they’re going to have a lot of problems from me today, — Ravil grinned, watching the showdown of the named Yura, — Come here, I’ll introduce you to the new guy. — A new guy, you say, — he said in a skeptical tone, turning to them and coming closer, crossing his arms over his chest, after which he looked at Valentine with a narrowed gaze, — He’s kind of weak. — He’s just joined the department, Yura. He’ll learn everything in the process, join the team, I guarantee you that. Valentin Shirokov. The lieutenant. — Lieutenant Valentin Sergeevich Shirokov has joined this department, — Valya saluted, straightening his back, looking at the strict Yuri, who seemed to be stricter than Ravil himself. He just chuckled sternly. — Well, let’s see how you show yourself, kid. — And this, Valentin, is Yuri Vasilyevich Muzychenko. My right hand in my work. And my left hand, judging by the sounds from the next room, is causing problems for someone during the check. — Muzychenko…? — Valya asked, and immediately turned pale with fear when he realized whose father it was. The father of his neighbor Yura, with the same name. Moreover, there were many external similarities. — Well, yes, why? — Yuri looked at him with a stern look, crossing his arms over his chest, — Is there something wrong with my last name? — Oh, no, no! — he said, — I just think I know your son, huh… — Pfft, who doesn’t know this tattooed idiot, yeah… — Yuri, you’re forgetting that Marik has tattoos too, — Ravil grinned, elbowing him in the side in a friendly way. — Marik is different. But my son is a dumbass. I had three fucking attempts to have an angel baby, but no, another FUCKING DEMON was born, — the elder Muzychenko grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest, as if offended by his own son. — You love him anyway, you grumpy ass, — Ravil teased, patting his friend’s hair. — Oh, come on! Ugh… Okay, you’re right. So, I went, I also had to arrange a scolding some idiots together with my partner Makarov on the lower floor. See you later, — Yuri left the corridor, rushing quickly downstairs. Valentin stared dumbfounded at one point, but the mayor brought him out of his thoughts, shaking him slightly by the shoulders. — Valentine, wake up — I’m not sleeping… — Okay, look. I’m giving you the address: Embankment 15. There is a hotel in front of this house, right next to the house. I’ve got a room for you there, on the second floor. — Oh, I get it, I know this house by the way, I often drive by. Thank you. — That’s great. And at work, you behave as usual and calmly. Agreed? — Agreed — If there’s anything wrong with your apartment, I’ll figure it out and help you, otherwise I’m sick of throwing out newbies for their mistakes. Moreover, you didn’t make the worst mistakes. — Really? — Yes. I just like you, kid. That’s why you have every chance of becoming one of the best in the department. Just be more confident at work, behave steadfastly and confidently, but don’t overdo it. And Marat’s trust will definitely be yours. — I get it. But there is a question. So how do I keep from punching Yurkov in the face? — Hehe, I understand perfectly. Okay, I’ll let you punch him in the face. Silently and without swearing. Marat doesn’t like scandals. — Well, I’m starting to feel different. And more confident, — Valya said, slightly proud of his new position. — So, you’re free for today, you can go get settled in your room, Valentin. — Great. By the way, what about Marat Ravilevich? — I’ll stop by his place right now, — Ravil immediately wrote a message to his son, after which he looked at Valentin, — And oh, by the way! The department is still not decorated in the end. Decorate the department tomorrow, otherwise it’s not festive at all. Valentine, this also applies to you! — Me? Can I really do this? — Well, of course. Even necessary! Otherwise, you don’t feel the New Year’s spirit. The disorder. — I understand you. By the way, what about Igor Vasilyevich’s cup? — I’ll buy him a new one, I know where he bought one, don’t worry about it. By the way. About Marik’s love for the new year, — the mayor took out his phone, showing him several photos of Marat’s gorgeous apartment, which was also smartly decorated for the new year. Indeed, a true New Year’s atmosphere was created in the apartment. — Wow… This is awesome! — Shirokov admired, looking at the photos with childish curiosity, — Is this Marat’s apartment? — Yes, to the point. His apartment. Have you seen how to create a New Year’s atmosphere? And our department is decorated in a special way: Everyone adds some detail to the decoration from themselves. And the more the better. — This is… the first time I’ve heard this, — Valentin mused, scratching his head and beginning to think in advance what he would add. — And one more thing, Valentin, — Ravil carefully turned Valya’s head to himself, — Don’t forget the smile. Plus, the charisma that you definitely have somewhere is just hiding behind your insecurities. — Uh… okay? — Valya smiled slightly, showing a demonstration. — Come on, — Ravil grinned, shaking his head, — Smile sincerely, think of something good, for example… About your dream! Valentin thought about it and the image of Marat immediately popped up in his head. A smile naturally appeared on his face. — Here, it’s immediately obvious that you’ve thought about something very good! — You have no idea what it’s about, — Valya grinned. Khaidarov Sr. patted his hair, then went to the exit. — Go ahead, dreamer — Yes, that’s right! Goodbye, Ravil Alexandrovich! — Valya hurried out of the department and jumped into his car. Rummaging in the glove compartment, he found a chocolate bar and immediately took a bite out of it, relaxing— Perfect. What you need at the end of the working day. After finishing his chocolate bar, he started the car and drove towards the elite area by the sea, where this house was located. He still had no idea that this hotel was located directly opposite the house where Marat lived. While Valentin was checking into the hotel, he did not suspect anything. Meanwhile, Ravil, as promised, came to his son’s house. Marat hugged his father, after all, he did not see him often and this was the closest person to him of all. Biryukov was also in the apartment, who monitored Marat’s condition before Ravil’s arrival. — Well, how are you here? — It’s not very good, Ravil, — Igor said with a heavy sigh, — he can’t live alone at all… — What happened…? Marik, my son? — Mmm, — Marat mumbled softly, snuggling up to his father, — Dad, I’m fine… I can handle it… I’ve been living alone for thirty years and I’m fine.… — No, Marat, it’s not okay! — Biryukov cursed at him softly, — It’s not okay that you don’t even have anyone to serve you a glass of water! — I’m not an invalid, and I can give it to myself.… — Marat, what about your epileptic seizures that started recently?! Seriously. It’s dangerous to leave you alone, we need to do something, — Igor assured, shaking his head, then looked at Ravil. — I’ll figure something out, — Ravil said, hugging his son, who was clearly still weak. Then he carefully put Marat on the bed, — We both can’t be with you all the time. But you definitely need someone by your side, son.… — Dad, I’ve been alone for thirty years.… — Marat, please. Don’t be stubborn, but listen to me. Your health situation is getting worse. You need someone to look after you now. Especially after everything that life has done to you… — Ravil stroked his son’s hand reassuringly, looking at him sympathetically, — You understand that Igor and I can’t be around all the time… I don’t see you very often because of work.… — Don’t you dare send me to the hospital… — muttered Khaidarov Jr., burying his nose in the pillow and closing his eyes. — Absolutely not… We’ll figure something out, Marik.… — Okay, Dad… you can go with Igor, I feel fine already. Truth. I’ll manage on my own, — Marat assured them, sleepily rubbing his eyes, — Besides, I’d like to take a shower now. — Marat, are you sure? — Khaidarov the elder asked to make sure. Marat nodded, smiling slightly at his father, — Igor, let’s go. I have to go to work as usual, and you have to go home. — Ok. Marik, be sure to call us if something is wrong. At any time! — Good, good. I can handle it really. It’s all good. Ravil gave his son a final kiss on the top of his head, after which he said goodbye and left his apartment with Igor. Marat saw them both off and then returned to the living room with a balcony. The large panoramic windows overlooked the side of the hotel. Meanwhile, Valentin was still settling into his room, making himself comfortable. Marat sat by the window and looked at this very hotel, where Valentine was perfectly visible. He certainly recognized him, after all, no one can deceive a forensic expert. He looked out of the window out of boredom and watched as Valentin walked around the room and did something there. Valya himself was unaware of anything. But suddenly Shirokov turned his head towards the window and looked, as if on purpose, directly at that very window, at the very last (fifth) floor, where Marat was sitting, who at that moment was already looking for something on his phone. Of course, Valentin was attracted to Marat’s beautiful, slender model figure, which was perfectly visible from the window. And despite his age, Marat was handsome. While Valya was watching, he quietly sighed dreamily. — “You won’t be so happy, Valentine, don’t even dream about it.… You’re not going to get this handsome guy. Who is he, and who are you… it’s even funny…” — Valya looked away. But he couldn’t help but look at Marat, and after a while he looked back at Marat sitting in the window. And so he watched until Marat turned off the light and went to sleep. Then Shirokov went to bed. In the morning, Valentin woke up absolutely devastated. He had dreamed too good a dream about Marat, but it was too realistic, which was cruel. It was realistic, but at the same time, it wouldn’t have happened in reality. That’s what Valentine thought. He got up, washed his face, had breakfast, cleaned himself up, and drove his car to the department. Meanwhile, Marat was riding behind him on a motorbike, which Valya did not immediately notice, being in his thoughts. Suddenly, the car veered slightly to the side, but Valya was able to successfully steer and began to drive smoothly along the road again. — Fuck… fucking roads in winter, — Shirokov grumbled, frowning and gripping the steering wheel tighter. Meanwhile, Marat rode up to him from the side, right to the window and knocked lightly. Valya immediately looked in the direction from where he heard a knock and saw Marat on the motorbike. Khaidarov motioned for him to keep an eye on the road. Shirokov smiled slightly at him, nodding, continuing to drive, but now he was glancing in the side mirror at Marat, who was now riding behind. Suddenly, the back of the bike began to spin in different directions and Khaidarov had to slow down a little to straighten it out. Shirokov turned back in a panic, looking out of the window, but Marat gestured that everything was okay, don’t worry. Valya shook his head, continuing to drive, looking at the road (and not only). Suddenly, Marat decided to overtake everyone and drove into oncoming traffic. Shirokov immediately began beeping, panicking, saying get off the oncoming lane. Moreover, a car was already rushing ahead. However, Marat calmly managed to pull out of the oncoming lane and was driving in a normal lane. The car that was flying at him drove past at high speed, almost knocking him off his bike and the rest of the cars. — Damn you! — Marat swore, gripping the handlebars of the motorbike tighter. — I agree,” Shirokov exhaled softly, — Marat Ravilyevich, do you always drive like this? — What did you expect from an old biker? I’ve been able to drive for years, as you can see, I haven’t crashed yet. — Be careful anyway… By the way… It was unexpected to see you on a… motorbike — I may be an old fart, but I’m not that old. — I didn’t call you an old fart! I didn’t even think about it! — Yeah, — Marat grinned, eventually overtaking him anyway when they reached the department. Soon, both of them went inside. Yurkov was already waiting for them in the general department, preparing his sarcastic remarks. — Oh, the lovebirds have arrived, — Yurkov declared. Marat and Valentin walked past him in silence, ignoring him completely, —Hey! Why are you two ignoring me? Oh, please. Marat sat down at his desk and rubbed his temples with his fingers, frowning slightly. Valya also sat down at his place. After a while, all the others came. And then Colonel Mishin came, standing in the center of the room. The others stared at him curiously, waiting for his orders. — Attention. We have another new employee added to the department. Another lieutenant. I say right away: If there will be jokes with his last name and it will be such a banality, believe me. — What’s his last name? — Yurkov asked. — Makarov, come in! — Pavel Andreevich commanded, looking towards the door. It opened and a tall, handsome young man entered the room. He was taller than everyone present. Even taller than Valentine, who seemed to be the tallest of them all. Everyone was stunned when they looked at the newcomer, because they definitely did not expect to see this. — Slava, is that you? — Marat suddenly spoke up, spreading his arms slightly to the sides, — Are you really thinking of changing your profession? — Hello to you, too, Marat, — Makarov said with a beaming smile, coming up to Marat’s table and hugging him. Even Yurkov was silent, not expecting this. Shirokov sat with his mouth slightly open, trying to figure out if it was even real. — Now introduce yourself completely, new guy, — Mishin commanded, folding his hands behind his back, — I understand you may have connections with Marat there, but the others may not know you. Well… or they do. In any case, it is necessary. — All right, Pavel Andreevich, — Slava agreed, and then turned to everyone else, — I am Vyacheslav Nikolaevich Makarov. Lieutenant, — he said with a smile, looking at his boss. He nodded approvingly and made a gesture saying go on, — Well, I’ll be more modest. I literally came here from television on the long-standing advice of my father. — Another greenie, — Yurkov quipped, — Why did such an ideal host of a popular show like you have to leave television, huh? Have they stopped paying you money? Or is your famous beauty no longer what it should be? Slava abruptly changed his expression to a serious one. His eyebrows furrowed slightly as he looked at Yurkov. — You know, it’s because of such rotten people like you that I left television, having long ago studied at the Ministry of Internal Affairs under the guidance of my father. And I didn’t regret it a bit. — Hey, is he crazy to be rude to me? — Yurkov was indignant, pointing at Makarov, — Why is he being rude to me? — Because you didn’t have to be rude to me. Yurkov, or whatever your name is, — Slava snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. — I like him, — Biryukov said approvingly, — Val, you should learn from his confidence! — Uh… yeah? Well, I think I’ll manage on my own somehow… — Valentin narrowed his eyes suspiciously, looking askance at Slava. He knew this man well from the world of television and show business, because he was the host of the popular adaptation Russian show “The Masked Singer.” but for some reason he didn’t trust him. And plus, jealousy was bubbling inside, because Slava was intimately acquainted with Marat, plus outwardly he was the most handsome guy among the whole company. Like Marat, of course, according to Valentine (and not only). Slava looked at Shirokov and smiled sincerely at him. However, Valya himself was still wary. Makarov came closer to him, looming over his desk. — Don’t block my light, — Shirokov muttered. Slava just smiled wider — I heard you’re new, too, right? — My dad told me recently. Although he hasn’t seen you personally, he’s been told about you, and he’s told me. — What is it that he’s already told you about me? — Shirokov raised an eyebrow questioningly. — Don’t worry, there’s definitely nothing wrong. And I think you and I will become friends, — Slava said with a kind smile, looking at Valya. — Hmm… well, maybe. Shirokov was still looking at Makarov with mild disbelief. — So, by order of Ravil Alexandrovich, we are decorating the department today. Don’t shirk! Run to decorate! He will come later to check how we have created a New Year’s mood here! — Wow, that’s great here, — Makarov grinned, rubbing his palms, — Well, where are the decorations, what to decorate and where? — That’s the box they might not let you near, thinking that since you’re new, you can ruin everything, — Valentin snorted, pointing towards the box. Slava looked at him in silence, then grinned slightly, realizing the reason for his behavior. — I take it your first day at the department wasn’t very successful, was it? — Yes, — Shirokov confirmed, — He was terrible. — But you say it with great confidence, — Slava grinned, — Okay, what are we standing for? They said to decorate, so let’s go — Hmm… well, let’s go, Makarov, — Shirokov agreed and walked over to the decoration box along with the others in the department. Yurkov again decided to hurt someone with his sarcasm, having amused his ego. — Makarov, do you even know how to shoot a Makarov pistol (the name of a popular pistol in the Russian police)? Or are singers or, whoever you are, not destined to learn? ~ Before Yurkov could figure it out, a pistol was immediately held to his forehead, which Slava pointed at him, looking at him with a skeptical look. — Should I shoot, or is there nothing to shoot at? — Slava asked, having absolute calmness at the same time, unlike Yurkov, who was already mentally shitting his pants from surprise. — Wow, Vyacheslav. Unexpectedly, — Marat clapped lightly, approving of this gesture of insolence towards Yurkov. Slava himself finally put the gun away and bowed theatrically, after which he smiled at everyone else. Yurkov quickly made his way to his desk, quieting down temporarily. Shirokov just chuckled, realizing that he himself would have done so if he had his way. Slava put his pistol in a belt holster, after which he began to decorate the department with the others. The process was active. Everyone contacted each other, talked, discussed something, helped, there was a close-knit collective and, most importantly, creative work. Marat was decorating downstairs and suddenly began to look up, thinking about something, fiddling with new year’s decorations in his hands. Valentine came up behind him. — Can I give you a lift, Marat Ravilevich? — Well, give me a lift, Valentin, — Marat shrugged, agreeing. Valya carefully put him on his shoulders and while Marat decorated the top, Valya decorated the wall below. Everyone noticed their interesting interaction. Slava was particularly interested, as he watched with a smile the interesting contact between Shirokov and Khaidarov. At one point, he even grinned slightly, continuing to watch the interesting couple. — All right, Val, let me down, — Marat asked. Valya bent down so that it was easier for Marat to get down, after which both began to evaluate their joint work and its result. — I think it’s beautiful! — Valya said, being sure of it. Marat just shrugged his shoulders. — Not bad, but I think I could have done better. Maybe it was just unusual for me to sit on someone’s neck while decorating the ceiling and the top of the wall, but I’m not complaining. It was interesting. Well, you decorated it beautifully here, I liked it. Shirokov stood next to him and beamed with joy, smiling happily. Marat looked at him, smiling slightly in response and lightly flicked his nose, playfully. Slava, who was watching, analyzed and wrote down some information for himself in a notebook. He noticed a certain chemistry between Marat and Valya and was eager to learn more about it. Marat went to his place, deciding to sort out a small mess on the table. Valya followed him with the gaze of a boy in love. Makarov noted this for himself, too, beginning to understand what was what. At some point, only Shirokov and Makarov remained in the general department. Valya continued to decorate in the department, adding details from himself. Slava approached him, smiling slyly and put his hands behind his back, waiting for attention to be paid to him. Valya turned around, feeling someone else’s gaze on him and became alert. — What are you staring at me for? — Shirokov asked, squinting at Slava. He grinned, shrugging his shoulders, — If it’s nothing, then don’t stare. — Come on. It’s just that I’ve noticed a very interesting chemistry between you and Marik~ — What? — Valya naturally decided to pretend to be a fool, supposedly not understanding anything, — What are you talking about? — Don’t pretend~ — Makarov grinned cunningly, turned on the matchmaker inside, — Fell in love with Marik, right? ~ — Do you think with your head or your ass, Makarov?! — Well, actually with my head, but I admit sometimes I probably think with my ass, haha! — Right now you’re thinking with your ass, — Valya snorted, rolling his eyes and grinning, — how did you even come up with such a thing? Yes and pfft… Do you know who he is and who I am? — People, — Slava giggled, keeping his tone casual in this conversation. — Very witty… Anyway, don’t talk shit, man. You see our difference in every sense. — I doubt that it prevents you from looking at him with the gaze of a boy in love~ Shirokov was startled to realize that his very gaze had been recognized in such a cheeky way. Mentally, Valya was ready to admit that Slava was right. But only mentally! He probably wouldn’t admit it out loud so quickly. Especially someone he didn’t trust much. — You’re playing the fool pretty well, Valentine. But Marat taught me to “read” people a long time ago. It was thanks to his skills that I realized what kind of shit I was in and what kind of shit my father pulled me out of. Because I couldn’t handle these scum on my own. There’s too much corruption on this TV. But all the same, sooner or later their insidious plan would have been revealed. He opened up~ — Makarov grinned maliciously, — Finally justice was on my side. Valya couldn’t help but listen to him, since they were alone in the room. Also, while the outpouring of Glory was going on, Valya rethought everything he said and his world turned “a little bit”, so to speak. — Well… it’s unexpected to hear that, — Shirokov admitted, fingering a pen on the table. — Well, yes. I understand how it feels to hear the harsh truth about television and show business and me. But it all ended the way these scum deserved. Or rather, this bitch. And I don’t regret anything. I don’t regret anything! — Well, I’m glad that everything ended well for you, — Valya nodded, and then looked somewhere to the side. — By the way. Since you’re a boy in love, I could give you some tips on how to get Marat’s attention. — We… barely know each other, Slava. Are you serious? Are you going to help me? That is… Well, I… ahem! — Yes, — Slava answered shortly, propping his head on his hand, looking at Valya, — What? We actually still have to work together anyway. Moreover, you clearly need a friend who will support you and give you a magical kick in the ass. So I’ll help you. —Really? I can’t believe… — Valya was still wary, as he really wasn’t used to the friendly atmosphere in the team. — Yes, seriously. Listen, you’re reacting like you’ve never been helped! — Well… consider it that way, — Valya sighed softly, remembering the last department, — I’ve never known any friendly teams. And the pathologist from the last department, from where I was turned away for all the facts, generally hated me and constantly framed me. I think I’ve developed a fucking phobia of corpses because of that brute.… — Uh-huh… well, I think I get it. Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out. Do you agree to my help? Makarov extended his hand to him for a handshake and the conclusion of a friendly agreement. Valya looked at his hand, then looked up at him, still not completely sure. But he decided to take his hand and shake it. — I agree… To be continued…