Moscow - Mayakovsky metro station.

 MOSCOW, METRO "MAYAKOVSKOGO"


 Part I

Metro "Mayakovskaya"

 He always stands in the same place
to the left of the bust of the poet, so that, barely leaving
from the train, I see his white jacket and blue
jeans. I don’t see his face - usually he
reads something. I get out of the carriage
I take a few steps and, holding out my hand,
I say:
 - Hello! He lifts his head from
newspapers, responds to a handshake:
 - Hello, hello... - and I almost
I physically feel waves of negative
emotions.
 We walk across the hall to the escalator.
 - Did something happen?
 “You’re late,” comes from his lips.
quiet swearing - For fifteen minutes, -
swearing again.
 - Is this a reason to be so upset?
I smile.
 His answer is preceded by obscenities:
 -...Don't say you forgot!
All of Moscow is yours... knows, and you - of course
Oh, I forgot!
 - Forgot what?
 Instead of answering, stepping onto the escalator, he
gives me an expressive look. I see
something was said, something important.
I'll have to remember.
 - Now choose - either we reduce
our gastronomic gatherings, or me
I'm late too.
 “I’m free,” I smile, “and
entirely at your disposal. you will
use me as a real
proof of your innocence.
 - Yeah, you'll run after the train... from
Yaroslavsky...
 If it were possible, I would stop
in the middle of the road. Out of surprise. Catch up
trains... Now I've started something
remember...


South Butovo, apartment,large room

 I entered the apartment, breaking through
stormy rows of greetings for the festive
table. Having made his way to an empty seat behind
table, looking around. Company to me
half unknown. Drinking
have a snack. The room is smoky - it has become
They've probably been sitting there for about an hour, no less.
Conversations are increasingly about the Internet, either
traditional children's antics. Someone
someone is trying to tell a joke
remembers the fun of the trip to Vorobyovy
mountains last fall. They're already pouring
decentralized. Noise in a small room
costs unimaginable. Covering it all up
doomsday, attention to oneself
attracts the owner of the apartment and the culprit
celebrations, birthday boy Denis:
 - People! Important message! People, please
a moment of silence! - a little general noise
lay down. In the corner of the table farthest from me
In the corner of the room, glasses clink treacherously.
Denis reacts instantly:
 - Friends, you wait there for two minutes,
now you'll hack! Let me say a toast! -
Silence reigns. - I'm not really
counted on this man to come to
for my birthday, he's very busy on
his work, but he came and really me
I was pleased with this. Who doesn't know yet -
Sergey, - Denis nods in my direction, -
I ask you to love and favor me. He's single
So, girls, don’t waste your time,
surprisingly, even when Denis is drunk,
obscene vulgarities do not spoil his speech. -
Let's drink to him!
 Denis drinks, he deliberately holds the glass
in an inconvenient right for himhand - he
left-handed - so that when swinging the sleeve
loose-fitting sweater slid down and opened
on the right hand is a Cartier watch bracelet.
My gift.
 Once upon a time, Denis and I began
the novel didn’t go beyond the prologue,
It’s a little offensive to remember this now,
a little sad, and I resolutely proceed
to get acquainted with vodka...


"Patio-pizza" near the Mayakovsky metro station

 Watch him place an order, too.
no small pleasure. With all your appearance,
with all the intonations in his voice he forces
waiter to work and work off
Small, generally speaking, tips:
 - Immediately bring me a cappuccino and
one hundred grams of Ballantyne. On the subject
eat - give me fish
in Florentine...
 - Dessert? - the waiter asks after
a few seconds pause.
 It also lasts for a few seconds
pauses, looks, smiling, at the waiter and
answers (condescends to answer):
 - No, dessert is not needed.
 - Why do you hate them so much? -
I smile when the waiter leaves.
 “I love them,” he says.
in an indifferent tone. - I generally love everyone.
No one loves me.
 - It’s not true, I love you, - phrase
pronounced with a touch of irony.
 He lights a cigarette and immediately gives out
remark from his repertoire:
 - Who do you love more, mom or
dad?.. That's right, baby, we need it more than anyone else
love Napoleon cake... Never mind
attention, this is Samvan's sense of humor.
 “I’m already used to it,” I grin...


South Butovo, same apartment

 Ba bell rings in the hallway
castle and something appears again
revival. I hear snippets of conversation, but
I can’t figure out who is talking about what.
Someone sitting near the door looks out
into the corridor, peers for a couple of seconds
a small crowd in the hallway, but,
returning to his place, nothing
says. The commotion in the hallway continues
a couple more seconds, then, half hugging with
Denis, an unknown person enters the room
guy. He quickly looks around the crowd.
Several words are heard at once addressed to the guy:
remarks:
 - The evil one has come!
 - Samvansha, what the fuck are you doing?
are you late?
 - Samvan, are you going to break your ribs again?
 - Denis, free kick for him!
 Those who are unfamiliar with the guy look at
and they listen to these exclamations in bewilderment. I
among them. When the first wave of delight
the guy falls, smiling predatorily,
says:
 - Your mother, why the hell are you here without
Are you drinking me vodka? Damn, even ten
You can't be a minute late!
 - Don’t be late, Sanechka! -
Vadim smiles.
 - I have a good reason, -
the guy declares, sitting down on the free
chair Now the guy is sitting next to him
person from me and in profile to me - I
I can look at it better. - I today
went to whores.
 This message causes the public
slight delight:
 - Yes? And whose ribs crunched this time?
 - Samvansha, in the chat with you and
You can’t cheat just once, but you’re offline
you instantly go into all sorts of troubles!
 - Samvan, you’re not in Kitay-Gorodtraveled,
by chance?
 - To China Town, of course! -
the guy agrees, pulling him closer
glass - I wanted to earn extra money. An hour under
stood in the rain - at least one bitch
I'd be flattered...
 - Then don’t give Samvan a penalty
he's angry now, he drinks half a liter and doesn't
wince! - someone jokes.
 The guy takes a knife from the table,
picks them a piece of liver pate
from the plate and, looking around with a thoughtful look
around him, eats the pate straight from the knife.
 “I’m already Evil,” suddenly
he states, pouring himself a glass of
glass of a substantial portion of vodka...
 I'm starting to think how I could
send away the one who is gently pestering me
boy on the right and concentrate your
focus on the new guy...


South Butovo, same apartment

 The nice party continued, guests
gradually got drunk, I couldn’t
managed to put an end to the harassment
the boy on the right - his name was Stas. He,
Actually, I didn’t really pester you - just
was completely drunk, and, having once indicated his
hand on my knee, and in response having met
interested smile on my face, that's it
this Stas perceived further as
taken for granted. I'm finally
looking at a guy named Samvan and drinking
a couple more glasses of vodka, I stopped completely
take something for granted.
 Samvan also drank - and in his attitude towards
alcohol had little appeal. Peel
he drinks a lot, calm me down alone
others, only washed down vodka with water,
the restdrank strong drinks neat, and
I ate little. At the same time, he managed
keep up a conversation with your neighbor
on the left - they were quietly discussing the Internet -
and with other parts of the common table. Feeling
Samvan's humor was heavy, if not
to be more precise - insulting. From
During the conversation, I realized that he was not a Muscovite. But
many people knew him from the Internet, so
some details and details rushed into
the conversation is completely casual, without giving
person from the side of the opportunity to understand
more details. Yet it was
attractiveness. Not even purely external -
although this could not be discounted
accounts (without glasses, however, he looked
would be much more attractive). His
the attraction was precisely in
brutality. And another thing is that,
maintaining a conversation with almost everyone,
he was left alone...


South Butovo, same apartment

 The room is getting too much
smoky, I decided to get out somewhere,
where the air is fresher. While I was getting out
from the table, five minutes passed, and even
I spend the same amount to convince
Stas, that I’m just going to have a smoke.
kitchen.
 The light was on in the kitchen, but no one was there
it was. I found an ashtray and slammed myself
in my pockets and only then realized that
I left the cigarettes on the table in the room. B
I had another pack in my jacket, I went out
into the hallway, stuck into both pockets at once,
one found a pack of Golden Java, and from
dropped the other one to the floor with an awkward movement
packaging of tablets. I bent downto
raise them, and heard in my ear:
 - Oops, what a failure... And I already
I was expecting a luxurious night...
 I quickly put the Hopbupa package in
pocket and returned to the kitchen with cigarettes.
Here, holding in my hands what I found
ashtray and lit cigarette
“Parliament,” stood Samvan. By his grin
I guessed that I had just been in the hallway
he.
 - T-cells above 500, life insurance already
sold, I guess? - sarcastic
he asked in a tone.
 - If you're talking about pills, then it's not
mine, and to one of my former friends, -
I say the first thing that comes to mind.
 - Already an ex? - continues to be sarcastic
Samvan. - Isn’t this too cruel? B
After all, there are condoms...
 I can't understand the meaning of his jokes
I'm thinking feverishly to answer, but
At this time he continues:
 - Although, of course, we have no right to condemn
you for such a violent reaction to
former, in general, friend... And in yourself you
Are you sure?
 A couple more minutes of my silence, I think
me, and he will decide that I am a complete cretin.
This, as you might guess, is not one of my
plans. The situation is saved unexpectedly
Vadim joining us in the kitchen:
 “Sanya,” he smiles at Samvan, “
don't torment a stranger. On
your sense of humor works for strangers
shocking.
 Samvan laughs briefly, curling his lips:
 - You are a fool under heaven, Vadka. to me
possible. I am Samvan.
 -Are you strangers yet? - Vadim addresses
to me. - This is a joyful miracle - Samvan, -
Vadimturns to the guy. - This is -
Sergey, my good friend, don’t offend me
him.
 We shake hands.
 - Why Samvan? - with
I ask with professional automaticity.
 Samvan curls his lips again in a short
grin:
 - You are one hundred and thirty-fourth on mine
memory with this question... - he and Vadim
laugh. - Okay, don't pay attention, it's
long story...


"Patio-pizza" near the Mayakovsky metro station

 He quickly drinks coffee and orders
also, in anticipation of fish, is located behind
the table is more comfortable, in one hand - a cigarette, in
the other is whiskey. I've known him for two weeks, but
I almost never saw anyone without alcohol.
 - I've already told you a million times that
"Hopbup" doesn't cure anything. And he can’t.
By definition. By definition of disease.
"Hopbup" simply supports certain
body functions. And then, very
individually. But the ending is still the same, and
he is predestined.


South Butovo, same apartment

 I still manage to sit next to
Samvan and away from Stas. Stas is
notices, but I don’t care about his reaction.
I'm listening to Samvan. He seems to be saying
serious things, but I can't figure out when
it is he who wedges into a meaningful story
senseless drunken jokes. Besides,
he speaks not to me, but to his own
neighbors.
 - It's all simple. Already half the country
understands that the same laws apply on the web
show business, you sit alone and wait for
they'll crawl onto your page
philatelists-taxidermists. They aremaybe
and they’ll crawl, but keep in mind - it’s all like
jar of seaweed salad. I'm like that
I opened the jar for myself only once. Salad
I didn't like it and I don't like it anymore
I'm eating. So don't be surprised by the low
traffic...
 He pours himself some vodka, just in case
case looks around the table in search of
drinking companion. There is no one and he
drinks alone.
 I take a pause in his monologue and
I'll chime in with my question:
 - Listen, about "Hopbupa"... you
Seriously, can you tell me what's what?
 “I can and seriously,” he smiles,
turning his head in my direction. - Is it necessary? U
people are having a holiday, they are having fun, and I will
pharmacological lectures push...
 “Samvan,” I ask, “I need it.” By
work.
 He looks at me, in his eyes I
I catch a glimmer of sympathy, but here with
An exclamation is heard from the adjacent end of the table:
 - Samvan, there is an intimate question here...
Are you an expert on Ukraine?..
 Immediately - a burst of laughter:
 - I am opening a virtual gynecology service.
Girls, appointment by appointment!..
 Samvan gets up and makes his way to him
the edge of the table, where the question came from...


Stoleshnikov lane, beer bar "Tuborg"

 - I was surprised when I saw you.
 He's wearing yesterday's jeans and a light
sweater
 - Why? You said it was
work. I can help you - why not...
 I buy beer and we go to the table
in the corner. The waitress follows us with
by order. When she leaves, Samvan
immediately lights a cigarette and mutters
in a low voice:
 - Mare...I don't understand the reason for his sudden
anger and try not to pay attention to
this phrase. Samvan takes a sip of beer,
takes a few seconds to get used to the taste
drink, then says:
 - Light beer is bad beer. "Tuborg"
suks.
 - If you had warned me, I would have taken it.
dark...
 - Dark "Tuborg"? - contemptuously
he smiles. - No, thank you...
 He takes another sip of his beer.
 - So what are you interested in?..


"Patio-pizza" near the Mayakovsky metro station

 - And in general, from the very beginning I was very
little interest in the details of this
stories,” he suddenly interrupts my
monologue - I thought you knew that I
very briefly in Moscow. I'm interested
I was supposed to tell you about the pills, but no
not the slightest desire to listen to your
accompanying problems - he, as always,
inimitable in his straightforward rudeness.
 - So you are determined to return to
to yourself?
 - You are the third only for today
day, who asks me about it. Yes,
I decided firmly.
 There is a pause at the table. He smokes
takes small sips of whiskey. I'm drinking coffee.
Then I start digging through my pockets
looking for cigarettes. He looks at my efforts
completely indifferent. He even
it doesn't occur to him to offer me his
"Parliament".
 - What if I invite you to stay? - I
I put a noticeable emphasis on the first
pronoun.
 He shakes off the ashes and is very harsh
hammers in well-thought-out answers
phrases:
 - I can’t offer Moscow anything
such, whatwouldn't be here. For what
I'm a good guy, don't pay me money
will become. And being a "kept-boy" is not my thing
principles.
 - To be who?.. I don’t know English, I
told you...


Sparrow Hills, observation deck

 - Farewell to the highland, farewell
to the North... - suddenly says
he, looking somewhere down at the Moscow River,
through the dense forest. - I don’t understand why
the beauty of this place...
 “I don’t know English,” I say. -
Only German, and even then - weakly...
 - It doesn't matter. Just mine
emotions. I quoted Burns.
 - Do you know Burns by heart? -
I'm surprised.
 - Only this poem and only in
original. I don't like translations, but
There is no desire to look for something else. On
current stage of life, Burns is overweight
information,” he gives a catchphrase.
 It comes from the fence, from the edge of the area in
side of the bus stop. Comes to
bins, throws an empty pack there from under
cigarettes, methodically opens a new one,
lights a cigarette. I'm standing a couple of steps away from him.
 “Let’s get out of here,” he says.
sentence. - Vulgar place.
 I don't argue - I find myself thinking,
that I don’t argue with him at all. Samvan is
a natural disaster that can only
it is useless to wait it out and fight it. We
We walk along the avenue towards the metro. He
smokes silently, I feverishly think about
how to talk to him - the topic "Hopbupa"
we have exhausted, and he easily
can be cut off under the label "excessive
information".Suddenly he stops
near a puddle on the asphalt, then completely
squats down. It seems to me that I
I see a child, about six years old. This child
Shaking the ashes into a puddle, he suddenly says:
 - An idiot's dream came true - to see
Moscow from the inside. Live here. Only in
The only thing left to do is go to the mausoleum - as it is already
I saw everything. Now the question is - go
watch Los Angeles or
sell out - give yourself up to someone and live
the quiet life of a well-fed pig? What's rowing
everything, and shit too... - he sharply
straightens up, jumps over a puddle,
of inertia takes two more sweeping steps,
then turns to me:
 - Why do people think that I am not
scum?


 Part II

"Patio-pizza" near the Mayakovskaya metro station

 - What does this have to do with a paid boy? -
I'm surprised. - Don’t just say that you don’t
you can find a job in Moscow. Or you
Do you really need to separate the archives?
 - But of course! - he is amused by the conversation.
Steal - so a million, marry - so
to the queen!
 “This is maximalism,” I say here too
I regret what I said: I can’t be with him
talk in that tone. Now before
me a bristling teenager.
 - Sergey, I have never hidden the fact
that I don't care about the majority's opinion
Muscovites about me. I am a temporary character
in your Moscow life. It's only strange
that you don't understand this. And still
teach me something.
 “I didn’t mean to offend you,” I try.
make excuses, but I still get into trouble
more. Apologizein front of him is empty
It's just a waste of time.
 - Okay, let's go... - neutral
he says in a voice, shaking off again
ashes...


Metro "Mayakovskaya"

 He stands, as always, to the left of the bust
poet. In the left hand - an umbrella, in the right -
newspaper. I approach, he looks up: -
Hello! We shake hands. I feel some
sadness both in his gaze and in his movements.
Where shall we go? - I ask. - Don't know. B
some pub. Available on Tverskaya
beer pubs, so that it would be clean and it would be possible
smoking? We're going up the escalator, I
I go to the exit, but Samvan suddenly returns
to the metro ticket office and buys a couple of telephone
tokens. - Why do you need it? - I’m surprised. - U
I have a phone card. - When should I
if you need it, I'll take your phone number
card, and your soul, rest assured, -
gloomily says o, but I almost don’t believe it anymore
just for a couple of seconds his ostentation
brutality has cracked, and now I
I instinctively search in his words and actions
pose, game.
 We walk along Tverskaya to the center and enter
to a small pub. I order two dark ones
beer, Samvan is thoroughly located -
puts cigarettes on the table and
lighter, places an umbrella on the hanger and
jacket I even notice that he manages to
hold your gaze for a split second
mirrors Samvan is clearly in
elated and expectant mood.
 - So what's up with "Hopbupom"?
Have you already found a gang of drug dealers? - dear,
he asks in a carefree voice when
they bring us the order. II look at you in surprise
Samvana - asking about my work is not
his habits. By the way, chatting about her -
It’s still not my right, and he knows it.
 - There are no drug dealers there.
 - Oh yes, I forgot - there is an underground
gonorrhea treatment center... - Samvan
having fun.
 - If you're wondering, there's murder there,
I suddenly say angrily.
 “It’s not interesting,” Samvan retorts and then
he clarifies: “Who was killed?” Married couple
boring fagots?
 - Don't try to play a teenager,
tired of life. It doesn't suit you, -
I say.
 Samvan laughs a Jesuit laugh, and I
I understand that I’m about to hear another one
little phrase:
 - You are all teenagers yourself, tired
the sun. Everyone knows and agrees that everyone
one of us is a scumbag, but you are afraid of this
admit it even to himself - he takes a sip
beer. - I'm not afraid. I even know myself
price. The real one - another sip. - And I know
that I'm selling. Twice as expensive. Or three times.
 I look at him in surprise and silence. I
suddenly I understand that he is extremely
serious. I understand that he doesn't play
cynicism.
 - And I really don’t care who
they sewed it on like that, and for what reason, and why
this idiot was found ritonavir, not
sold in Russia.
 - Well, why does it have to be an idiot... -
I mutter.
 - Killed means he failed to protect
yourself. That means he’s an idiot,” he retorts.
Samvan.
Garden Ring near Prospekt Mira metro station

 After the third bar, it’s already completely under
evening, we walk rather unsteadily towards
metro.Samvan has just "joined the
underground" (copyright), why
his mood is cheerful and
cheerful (“pissed - like
confessed", copyright). He sees
pay phones and recalls purchased
tokens. The rain is still falling, but it
resolutely hands me an umbrella, and he
hiding under the canopy of a payphone. Dials
number, waits for an answer, pushes a token,
talking. I'm standing a few meters away
I don’t hear the conversation, but I see a cheerful and
Samvan's cheerful facial expressions. Conversation
short, two and a half minutes, second
He prepared the jet, but did not use it. He
hangs up, takes a step from under the awning, and
I'm scared of him for the second time this evening
facial expressions: the smile disappears as if
old paint, somehow in pieces, exposing
frank, sincere anger. He draws
attention to the fact that there is a cigarette in the rain
goes out, throws it aside, takes it out
new from the pack, that, of course,
instantly gets wet and doesn’t want to
light up, he throws it away too,
looks at the pack for a few seconds, then
frantically throws it aside,
comes up to me and takes the umbrella.
 “Let’s go drink vodka,” the fallen and
he says in an empty voice.
 I don't know who he's with or what he's talking about
talked, but at this moment I want
kill that person.


"Patio-pizza" near the Mayakovsky metro station

 - I quite seriously suggest you
stay,” I interrupt the pause. - Problems
there will be, but they can be solved.
 “I guess you’re not joking,”
calmlyhe smiles. - Consider me
this proposal did not excite me.
 I throw aside the usual way
talk to him:
 - You don’t understand, do you? I suggest
you stay. In Moscow. Not in yours, how
him... - but he doesn’t let me finish. He
pronounces his answer with the usual
pauses, with the usual coldness and
prudence:
 - I'm not interested in the city. Moscow -
this is not the center of the world, I don't care - Moscow
or Kologriv. I'm actually seventy
percent I work via the Internet. I can
live anywhere where there is at least one
provider. I'm not interested in the city. And
I'm not interested in handouts: you offer
Should I stay in Moscow... - every word he
sharpens with pause and emphasis. - Thank you
on a kind word.
 - You understood my words perfectly, no
try to misinterpret them, - I weakly make excuses
I.
 “There is no desire, no need,” calmly
he answers. - You say everything yourself
clear enough.
 - You need my official recognition
in love? - I’m going ahead.
 He doesn't seem to pay attention
question, meticulously studying what has already begun
cool the fish.
 - And where is my whiskey? - he mutters. I'm waiting. I know that such a statement he does not
will be ignored.


Metro "Ulitsa 1905 Goda"

 For Samvan, the time of day does not matter
meanings. And how long he slept and when
last time too. He emerges from
metro and is surprised to discover that on
street - late evening.
 “Hmm,” he says thoughtfully. -
And I thoughtIt's still eight o'clock...
 - Who goes to eight o'clock?
"Chameleon"?
 We're moving to the even side
Presnensky Val. He notices the phone and
stops for a few seconds
think about it. Then he turns to me:
 - You said you have a telephone
card?
 I nod, take out a magnetic card and
I hand it to him. He goes to the payphone, I
I stay where I am. The conversation doesn't last long
he returns the card to me:
 - I almost forgot. Today is father's day
birthday, congratulated him.
 - Does he live in Moscow? - I'm interested,
guessing what the answer will be.
 - No, in the Chelyabinsk region, - just
he answers. We move on.
 - Do you love your parents? -
I'm asking just in case.
 - No, perhaps. The father is the one in general
He betrayed me twice in my life. All these
calls, ceremonies - a tribute to tradition, not
more, - as always, by the tone of the answer I
I feel that he is not lying about his soul. Questions
about the essence of the presentation, I prefer not
ask


Presnensky Val, 14

 I immediately guess that he
stops at the bar. Jar "Holsten" on
it had almost no effect. With some
even as an internet reader I watch the development
events.
 The idea to go to "Chameleon" belonged to
him, but now I, with all my speed and
obviously watched Samvan lose
interest in this idea. A sure sign -
thrown at the clock twice in five minutes
look.
 Samvan finishes his beer and puts the can away
to the counter, looks around the establishment and takes out
verdict:- Viper.
 The waiter removing the jar
smiles in a professional manner and
is silent. I know for sure that Samvan is now
in a good mood, you need to argue with him.
Therefore, I, too, putting the jar aside, throw
A simple question for Samvan:
 - But something brings all these people here.
people?
 Samwan laughs. I feel that he
most likely, he’s just not ready to speak
this topic. Or in this perspective of the topic. But he
quickly finds something to answer:
 - What? Fun party.
Disco, booze, boys... Well, not
they are looking for love here... in the dark room...
 I'm missing the addition
about the dark room:
 - I know several quite happy
couples who met here.
 - Alejandro Casona, "And on the stones
trees grow." Part two - "Boys"
“they also want happiness,” - immediately
he shows off. He doesn't care what this
Half of the audience are financiers and businessmen.
For non-decisive, another criterion, another
half.
 He orders himself vodka, cheerful
looks around the audience and says:
 - As my ex-lover used to say,
if in the process of dating one person
paid more than for a liter of vodka, the second
potential hustler Andrew Cunanan, -
the waiter looks at Samwan slightly
shocked. Perhaps the phrase was
designed specifically for him...


"Patio-pizza" near the Mayakovsky metro station

 - Now your words are nothing anymore
“they’ll decide,” he says, taking a sip of the new
a shot of whiskey. - Even the most sincere ones.
 -Is that feeling really so
serious?
 He still starts eating fish:
 - There was nothing serious
feelings... - short pause. -Where are they from?
do they take so much cheese?.. - another pause. -
There was no feeling, it was just sexy
desire. I wanted to sleep with this
boy Once. Maybe twice.
And that’s it, leaving me in extreme shock, he
focuses entirely on the fish.


Presnensky Val, 14

 Samvan drinks unusually little and
remains sober almost the entire evening.
He hardly leaves the counter, preferring
watch what's happening from your seat
in the corner. With his killer maxims he
no longer overwhelms the waiter. I'm
on the contrary, I feel a surge of energy, I drink
enough to get drunk, but not drunk,
a couple of times I go out on the dance floor. Samvan
looks at all this completely indifferently.
He lost interest in the party - and
irrevocably.
 Returning once again to the stand
bar, I order vodka. Bye waiter
fulfills this wish, I ask
Samvana:
 - How long have we known each other?
 “A week,” he drawls lazily, shaking off
ashes
 - Why haven’t you and I still
slept together? - trying to sound joking
tone, I ask.
 “There was no reason,” he shrugs.
shoulders.
 I laugh:
 - What reason do you need?
 - Well, at least a similar question... - without
he answers with a hint of irony.
 The waiter serves me vodka. I
I sit down next to Samvan and do
first sip from the glass, I light a cigarette"Parliament" from his pack lying on
rack. He watches mine indifferently
movements. I take a few more puffs
another sip of vodka. Samvan drinks coffee. All
this time I try to look him in the face and
at least somehow appreciate the impenetrable
a lazy, indifferent expression.
 He finishes his cigarette, throws another one
glances at his watch, finishes his coffee and
unexpected for me, but completely smooth
says in a tone:
 - Let's go.
 “Come on,” I say. - Relax.
I like this party, let's party
there's more.
 - No one is chasing you - everything is the same
he says evenly. - Stay here. I
I’ll also sit a little longer.
 - Where should we go then? - I laugh. -
Dance?
 - Nope. You wanted to fuck with
by me? There's a dark room here, let's go...
 I'm dumbfounded and downright confused.
Samvan takes me by the left hand and pulls me
chair. I manage to finish the vodka and throw it in
ashtray cigarette...


Metro "Ulitsa 1905 Goda"

 We walk down the street towards the metro. I
I walk a little further away, watching. It seems to me
that his gait is now a little
has changed: he is not walking normally, a little
with a springy step, absolutely confident in
yourself and your goal as a person, and some
with a sweeping, shuffling gait. As if
achieved success and is resting.
 I'm almost sober, but now
I want to get drunk. I catch it every now and then
yourself on the desire to climb into some
night restaurant.
 Samvan suddenly turns to mine
side:
 - Why the hell are we?did they leave from there? to you
I loved the party!
 “I didn’t like it,” I answer briefly.
 - Hmm... master-master... Just look
It's half past three. The metro is closed.
 - We'll go by car.
 - And where? The day is lost, I'm no good
I didn’t find any interest in this viper... I
I want a drink! - there are sounds in his voice
capricious notes.
 - Let's go to my place. Me too
I'll drink with pleasure.
 - Just don’t pester me too much! - sarcastically
he laughs, and I am overwhelmed with feeling
hopelessness - he is what he is, and
That's why everyone likes it, although I want to
change it up a bit...


"Patio-pizza" near the Mayakovsky metro station

 - It’s hard for me to get used to your
antics,” I finally say.
 Having finished the fish, he looks at the dish with
feeling of deep satisfaction. Then
raises his eyes and looks at the fussing
there is a waiter at the cash register at a distance. After a couple
moments he notices this persistent
a look and a sign makes it clear that now
will do.
 - What antics? - he asks
in the most innocent voice.
 - Well, at least this is clean
sexual desire... I saw you
freaked out when that guy got you
ignored. I think it wasn't easy
desire...
 The waiter comes up and listens
polite notice of desire
taste a portion of spaghetti.
 “There was no love,” I hear when
the waiter moves away towards the kitchen. - No
was, - he lights a cigarette again and picks up
glass of whiskey - Hmm... love... - long
pause, - ok...


Moscow,Ostankino, three-room apartment

 Samvan took me out for a drink
absolutely unceremoniously calling
phone at half past nine in the evening.
Arguments about getting up early in the morning
on the subject of work Samvan is not just
ignored them - it seems he didn’t care about them at all
listened. I had to cross half
cities, in order to contemplate
completely drunk company - man
ten. There's a couple in one of the apartment rooms
had fun in another room
the main party was taking place - drinking under
Internet and Linda and Madonna. Samvan sits
in the kitchen (on the floor, by the way), about
him - a bottle of vodka, he is in charge
a small company - three
person. I don't immediately understand what's there
happens, and for a few minutes just
I contemplate the conversation of the company. Samvan
pours me vodka and, without interrupting the conversation,
holds out a glass. I drink quietly
realizing that I won’t be able to do without vodka
understand the meaning of what is happening.
 - So, where are we? -
smiling, Samvan clarifies to his
interlocutors.
 “It’s all bullshit,” he shakes dejectedly.
head handsome guy.
 “Of course,” he calmly agrees.
Samvan. - It's all bullshit. You're just fixated on
love, and what's the point? There is no love, you and yourself
you know that...
 - We just look at things differently.
love.
 -You can't look at love
in different ways,” Samvan smiles. - Love -
such a thing that if it exists, then it
is the same for everyone. Like the constitution
countries. I don't have minelove or your love.
The object of love can be different... heh...
It would even be desirable that they be different...
 - Samvan, you are talking nonsense. For
love you is a pleasant night and a couple
calls during the week, love for me
this is all me and all my friend, no less...
 - This is not love, honey, this is -
maximalism,” Samvan smiles. - A
maximalism does not bring any good. Few
what you set for yourself
a bar that is difficult to maintain, you still
and you're trying to push another person into
some frames you came up with...
 “Nothing like that,” he tries.
the guy argues, but Samvan at this moment,
smiling cheerfully, he raises his glass
and drinks vodka. Everyone, including me,
Let's follow his example. A few minutes
goes to absorb cheese, sausage, fish and
some more snacks. I'm having a snack
vinaigrette, Samvan does not snack at all.
 - Well, what does “nothing like that” mean?
he asks cutely while the guy is eating
sandwich with cheese. - What do you want?
say that you give Vlad full
freedom? I told him - go out with whoever you want,
but I will be there at any opportunity
be jealous of everything, including
mirror... some kind of nonsense...
 - What should I do? - the guy smiles.
 Samvan calmly pours himself a drink and
vodka to the rest and answers:
 - Fuck, my children. Just
fuck. Don't try to build
long-term relationship, otherwise you will
break off and open your veins... -
Samwan smiles and turns aroundin
the other guy's side:
 - Seryozhka, let's fuck? - guy
takes the glass of vodka from his hands and
shakes his head resignedly:
 - No, I'm afraid of falling in love with you...
 - Well, I’m so on you
counted...


"Patio-pizza" near the Mayakovsky metro station

 “There is no love,” he says, accepting
a new dish from the waiter. Judging by the eyes
waiter, disagrees with this statement
It wasn't just me. - In any case, for
me. At least not now.
 -You never thought that it was intentional
you set some limits for yourself... - I begin
me, but he calmly interrupts me:
 - Frames? Spare me the need
listen to all these sermons one more time.
I know the main refrain of all such
stories: be simpler, and people will be drawn to you.
 - Well, yes...
 - What if I don’t want you to come to me?
stretched? Well, just imagine that I
I don’t need little hands reaching out to me,
legs, other parts of the body... I live on my own,
often - alone, but I'm quite happy with it.
 For a couple of seconds I think that he has become
explain something - and that’s a plus that I have
some new chances appeared, but then I
I look up at him and see
condescending facial expression: he, on
in fact, he’s just talking to me now
like a kind teacher with a careless student.
He realized for himself that I was sticking to my guns.
opinion, and simply lowered the level
arguments. Yes, he explains something, but
explains only because I, from his point of view
sight, I didn’t understand anything before...
 - Well, it will becomeyou feel bad, lonely
finally - so what, who will you go to?
 - If I cared about such things, I
would get married.
 I smile:
 - Well, yes, I already did something similar
heard...
 He lights a cigarette, moves him a little away
spaghetti, pulls his temples closer and, looking
straight into my eyes, he says:
 - Sergey, I’ve been here for over an hour now
I listen to the same thing: “I heard, I
I know..." I heard it too, I know it too. I even
survived, by the way. It didn't occur to you
head that we are just wasting time?
 I fall silent.


"Patio-pizza" near the Mayakovsky metro station

 - Okay, I persuaded... - unexpectedly
he says, “I’ll explain to you.” On the fingers.
He puts out his cigarette, pushes away the half-empty
dish, takes coffee. - Let's do it this way. you to me
I like you, well, purely sexually. In
anyway, I could live with you and,
Believe me, don’t feel any
remorse, and you wouldn't even
noticed that I just live with you, but not
love you. Everyone would be happy and happy. C
given my attitude to life, I would
successfully whore, you would not be in
aware of what is happening. Most likely you would
not only gave me housing, but also, taking into account
your work, would help me with the documents.
I would find a job myself, I'm not that kind of person
stupid. And what next?.. - he smiles.
 - In what sense?
 - In any way. How long will we live together?
I get tired of any habits after two
month. You will become my habit, I will become
the object of your love, and we will become rapturously
swear...What next?
 - You pose questions like this...
 - How do you want it? So that I politely
smiled and said that I don't love you, but
therefore I will be honest and so on... Yes,
I have no more honesty than in Chechen
terrorist. Saying that we are human
we approach each other, but should not have
claims - well, you have to admit, it looks
nice, but the result is clear in advance...
 - Samvan, you don’t leave any
chance... - I'm trying to stop this
flow.
 - I’m not leaving? - he smiles. -
Sergey, there is no chance. No. I just want
so you can see it. Otherwise you're thinking something
I came up with it there, and now... and now I
I have to clear out all these yours
fantasies...
 He leans back in his chair and,
seems to be observing the effect of his words.
I try to stay calm. He
smiles, takes out his wallet, takes it out
him three hundred-dollar bills, leaves them on
table:
 - I'm waiting for you in the subway.
 He leaves, I look at his back, and,
suppressing the desire to scream, I realize
that he's leaving...

Sergiev Posad-7
A. Minchin


 Vitka Agapov walked in a good mood
and in a sagging state along the alley with Ben.
Ben was skinny as death, and Vitka Agapov
strong as a buffalo. (Knocked off his feet with a blow
anyone, even those who didn’t want to.) Slightly
swaying and not touching anyone, they walked
their own path known to them. Ben was
light, Vitka is not, and Ben could have been knocked off
feet any breeze. And when it happened,
with the wind, then Vitka sharplyturned
head back. There are some heads that
immediately turn around and instantly
sober up at the slightest smell of a powerful
blood arise.
 Two people were slowly moving away from behind
policeman in blue uniforms. catch,
it seemed there was nothing, but Vitka asked:
 - Did someone push you?
 - Yes, there they are, probably by accident, -
Ben answered without thinking.
 Twilight descended and settled on
alley, pressing it... The lanterns barely
pitiful, meager crumbs of light were illuminated.
They heard him when he was about to
a couple of meters. Still, they heard it. He
I thought I ran more smoothly.
 From half a meter on the move, as soon as Vitka
saw the face turn, he strongly and
sharply punched him right in the jaw. To the one who
stood closer to the middle of the alley, because
it was clear that it was he who touched the blue shoulder
Skinny Ben, the best and closest
friend Vitka Agap. Jaw tightened
lightly, like toast in a frying pan, and
the turned face responded with a glance
from a lying position.
 Article No.. part.. Code of Criminal Procedure of the RSFSR.
 The second tried to wave something:
Vitka's left sledgehammer, as if reluctantly
whipping up a nail, she pecked him on the head.
Having apparently understood something more intimate,
than the lying first, second policeman
galloped, darting, through the bushes and
ran. I ran very quickly, trying
grab something from your pocket while running.
 Vitka decided not to catch up. He
turned to the stunned Ben and hugged him
hand, turned it away from the scene of action and
was about to move on.“Vitk,” the stunned Ben could not stand it,
these are policemen.
 “Cops,” Vitka corrected, “and then,
They were also taught politeness from childhood.
 Alley, hugged by bushes and pressed
at night, had gaps to move from it to
left or right side of the street only in
four places, in unsightly
intersections. On the next one
Vitka and Ben were already waiting at the intersection
handsome people in blue outfits. And so it began.
 Ben was somehow pushed aside, giving him
a strong kick, it didn't bother anyone.
Vitka was immediately and angrily grabbed by the arms from
by twisting these two cops. And the third one,
such a big guy, he was already holding out a rake from
"funnel", waiting impatiently. And one more thing
two were belaying on the sides. It was impossible
count how many people are angry at once
(peasant, tireless) hands reached out to
Vitka.
 Three times, as in the epic, they dragged
Vitka to the car and three times he jumped up and
resting his feet on the footrest, sharply
pushed backwards, dropping himself and
cops on the dirty rough asphalt.
 He didn’t want to run, he was somehow tipsy
and it was a joy to compete with five
men. Simply put, this is
the same men as everyone else, they just put on
put on a uniform and kick out. Like
he's, well, a little older, he's twenty, and they
a dozen, another more - they frolicked and
separated.
 He forgot that men are men, and
policemen are the police. And frolic with
they don’t need it, they are not used to playfulness,
and even if you are used to it, it’s not like that, notto this one.
God knows.
 But nothing, they just had to be patient
not for long. Not a big deal, just two lanes away
sixth department, in the basement.
 Vitka tried without following the rules
epic, twitch for the fourth time, knocking down
policemen behind them, but someone briefly and
drove his fist painfully into his plexus, and he,
wheezing, choked, coughed and
gave in.
 Okay, what's up, let's frolic and
separated.
 To the police station room
tumbled in in an incomprehensible crowd.
Vitka was not visible behind the five uniforms.
He resisted when they led him, he didn’t understand
why is this, enough is enough,
frolicked, and even hit me in the breath. Okay,
even, he forgives.
 The room had one exit from the old one
rickety door (in those days still
the police organization had no better,
necessary, main thing).
 He was surprised that so many policemen
immediately settled in and found a use for themselves
in a small one, well, at least
small room.
 He immediately stood alone at the rickety door and
remained standing there until
moved.
 One sat down at the table, taking out a blank sheet
protocol. The second one quickly went to the window and,
drawing the curtains curtains unpleasant
mouse-colored, he remained standing nearby for now.
The two grabbed something and ran behind Vitka.
back. And the third, a big guy, swaying on
socks, stopped opposite him.
 Vitka felt that he
tie their hands. “Why,” I thought
he then decided: “Empty.”
 Vitka Agapov is the best striker
cities byvolleyball Once upon a time to hand
it scrolled 360 degrees
relative to the body axis for the direction of impact
and the ball to any point in the volleyball court
sites, read one lesson from yogis.
Even an exercise, more correctly. We need to start
it was from a stick. And, taking it with both hands
from behind, first spreading them wide apart,
return from behind the head forward. And by
weeks to bring them closer and closer to
middle until the hands come together. Via
Vitka has already been turning his arms from behind for six months
forward on the pencil and fists it
touched. Like a doll when you twist
one hand, the other tied to
a string threaded through the middle of the body,
turns too. The next day
the whole yard gathered to watch the greatest
performance. An unprecedented trick. Like Vitka,
whose hands were tied with a rope behind his back,
twisting around, somehow absurdly half-crouching,
half-shrinking himself, he pulled them from behind to his head
and, jerking, sharply threw his hands at the apogee
above their heads, after which they ended up at
in front of him, in front of his chest. It was wild
and incredible. The shocked courtyard was silent and
touched Vitka’s shoulders with respect.
 So, when Vitka’s hands were tied, he
decided: nothing. The rest has just begun
no small matter.
 For the record, he was asked:
 - Last name, middle name, year of birth?
 “Agap Vitkin,” Vitka answered,
knowing that the police are not always necessary
say what you know. What is known
you from birth.
 He was asked again:
 - You knowthat he committed the attack
Vitkin, to a representative of the authorities.
 “Nope,” Vitka answered.
 - And what you have done and continue to do
resist delivery to
police station.
 - In my opinion, I'm standing with the tied
with my hands and I don’t do anything to anyone.
 - Why don’t you? - Big guy,
quickly jumping up to Vitka, two wide
with open palms he hit him on the ears.
Something clicked, painfully as hell, and Vitka
I wanted to sit on the floor and vomit, but he
resisted.
 The person sitting behind the protocol said something,
but Vitka did not distinguish the words, he did not hear,
then I began to see dimly, because
some drops of moisture swirled in
eyes.
 After some time the rumor returned,
but in the eardrums there was a wild
itching: I wanted to scratch them, pick my ears
fingers, tear it apart, just to get through this
inhuman itching and noise.
 “They beat without a trace,” Vitka remembered, “
okay, you can be patient for Ben.”
 - So you did not provide and do not provide
resistance, why did they try to pull it out?
the back of your hands made of rope?
 “Ears,” Vitka answered briefly.
 - Oh, you still pretend that you don’t
you hear, but to swing at power is rotten
drunk..
 The big guy took a step and with his boot what happened
urine hit Vitya in the groin.
 Ah-ah-ah... He spun like a mad top
by floor. Those standing behind suddenly, as if
with a wave of the conductor's baton, they began to beat
kicking into Vitka's kidneys. He didn't see
only felt, then felt
stopped: the pain swarmed and beat everywhereplaces. Already fading in conscious thought, he
I heard someone whisper:
 "Only without traces, without, only,
traces..."
 Then he slipped into unconsciousness.
 How long he stayed there, he didn't know, yeah
it didn't matter, what was important was that he
returned from there, from unconsciousness, not
remained there and tried to sit on the floor.
Pain with a thousand needles, and somewhere with ramrods,
Having grabbed hold of it, she pounced on his body. He
groaned, but involuntarily, because he didn’t want to
to prove himself in front of them, because they are his
didn’t know yet, but acquaintance, he believed,
It should always be pleasant and mysterious.
There was no point in opening up. "However
The guys got into a lot of fun, he thought.”
 And somehow I stopped thinking about what
All men are cut from the same cloth
and - all are good. These thoughts fell away like
repulsed. There's only pain left
rawness in sides, kidneys and groin.
 He tumbled onto his shoulder, leaned on it,
pushed his body back a little and found himself on
knee, pulled up the second one and stood on two. He
Vitka Agapov - before this mycopbem on
knees. Nothing. He only needs minutes
five.
 .
 He sat down on his knees, lowering his torso
on your heels. A short minute passed. Big guy
grabbed a handful of his wavy hair and
pulled up. Vitka, shaking his head,
remained sitting still.
 “On my own,” he said barely audibly.
 Two from the "back" moved forward and began
in front of him. Heput one foot on the floor,
swayed, almost falling over, but
managed to balance by leaning on another
foot and stood up.
 .
 - So why did you provide and continue
resist? - they asked him from
protocol.
 “I won’t do this again,” reluctantly
Vitka joked.
 - Criminal proceedings are being initiated against you
case under article such and such,
approximate sentence ranges from 7 to 10
years of imprisonment in a strict colony
mode.
 Vitka stood and did not listen to what he said
they said he didn't care what he
they promise and how many years they will give. One more minute
minute, and the trembling will pass in the legs, they will
stand strong, like on a volleyball court
platform, and your hands will fill up...
  -
. - 
 Just a second, Vitka sat down, as if falling from
tired, somehow awkward and incredible
arched, twisting inhumanly,
jerk with your arms - they are at their apogee above your head,
push - and tied in front of the chest. And
he jumped up from the curtain. On your own
his head jumped up. Wave and fly
the victim in the far corner, clinging toair. The hands are connected, but in front.
 The big guy, growling, rushed towards him
jump. Caught Vitkina mid-flight
his leg is a root, his groin is a big guy. And right there,
like a football player with scissors, with the left, shvark
inhaled, and the big man began to spin wildly
like a top, spitting red blood and saliva.
It hurts them too.
 Two in front of him and behind him, already smaller.
Another kick, another like a hammer,
doomed, Vitka earned it. Stop
now there's a hammer for a second, and he won't get out
never from here again, neither to the court nor to my mother -
Vitka Agapov already understood this, and
worked like a dray. Standing at the door
rushed towards him from behind. But peripheral vision -
his kopohka when cheating at the net. A little
let him come closer and, half turning his head,
strongly and sharply tilted her towards
rushed. Krak-k - the bridge of the nose is flooded
blood. But it didn't fall off. And stuck
on the contrary. Vitka started the dumbfounded man with
gushing liquid and clinging to him
grabbed the cop's leg by the ankle and pushed him hard
the body with a shoulder - from behind collapsed and groaned
something on the floor. And, tramping and stumbling
legs, Vitka rushed, this time from
his death, to the door, forgetting all the pain and
burning, biting and npokycub lip,
rushing up the stairs from the terrible
basement room.
 “Hold it,” was the last thing he heard.
The darkness immediately entangled and enveloped him
(after the light), he stopped as if
blind. Noise, stomping, rumbling along the corridor,
downstairs basement. While we were stepping over
comrade...
 Hurry! Eyes, what witheyes, they
they don’t see anything, it’s not darkness, - in them
blood, or something.
 - Vitk, - whisper-cry, - I’m here,
“run,” came the sound from the passage yard. -
Well, hurry up.
 Vitka, like a blind man, took a step, the second
according to the inspiration of the past. I felt everything. Ben already
sat on the "steering wheel" and rested his long leg against
asphalt.
 They're used to riding like this: Ben on
"steering wheel", and Vitka rules.
 “Myself,” Vitka croaked with his lips, “
I can’t do it myself, my ears, my ears hurt terribly, they
They broke my eardrums.
 Already on the stairs there was a roar, as if
a meteorite flew into the pipe. Ben instantly
moved into the saddle, Vitka was the last
with effort he jumped onto the frame of the HVZ and, falling
head on Ben's hand, jerking the steering wheel,
froze.
 They rushed through the passage yard. Ben
there was a king on a bicycle. Vitka never
managed to persuade him to change the tires to
ball. , Vitka suddenly thought to nothing.
 The entrance yard is over. Darkness
absorbed and threw the riders to the labyrinth
countless small streets and houses
quiet sleeping city. Where almost everyone
it was not a second home, it was a friend, it was a brother, it was for,
and not against it.
 It was either heard or heard from behind
a shot, then another. Even so? But they
were far away and hard to hear. Or maybe
Vitka is due to the eardrums making it difficult to hear,
because Ben shuddered so much that Vitka
almost fell over the frame and his
hand supporting the steering wheel.

 Morning has come. It's natural - it's
always comes afternights.
 Ben licked many of Vitka’s wounds, but
only outside, inside he couldn't. B
They didn’t dare go to the hospital.
 Vitka no longer played volleyball. Yes
and why should he now for the rest
Life had to treat the kidneys. Yes
explained in Essentuki where, after begging,
Ben stuck it, selling his fast one,
the best bike in the world. Cool
HVZ brand.
 He couldn't play anymore. Sorry, it was
the best striker in the city, although not tall
came out, but the jump was unique. A blow, a
deception is a classic.
 OK. What is there? We frolicked.