The next day, just before nine o’clock, the chief editor came to the office. She was surprised to see the editorial team sitting at the collegiate table on a Friday morning.
Alex and Adam came right behind her.
“Good morning, gentlemen!” She greeted them.
“Not good morning, but bad morning…” Michael began to complain about sleeplessness. In addition, regardless of the presence of the editor, he stretched as if he was still in bed in his bedroom, not at work.
“Shut up, Michael!” Thomas sitting next to him, also sleepy, tried to bring him to order. "Dude, you barely got up, you're already complaining. You were supposed to change! Shave! Brush up!”
"Shh..." Michael put a finger to his lips. “I have a headache! Don't yell behind my ears!”
“Gentlemen, I have a surprise!” The chief editor announced. "There's a package on my desk in my office. Can one of you bring it in, please?”
Hearing this, Alex reacted quickly. After a while he came back with a huge box that he put on the table and began to unpack.
“Maybe a good bottle?” Michael with hungover wondered aloud.
"Shit, calm that fool down!" Simon said straight into Thomas’ ear.
“Calm him down yourself! I had enough problems fifteen minutes ago to wake him up, I had to put him in the shower to wake him up, and now I have to calm him down? You’re joking!”
“You're the one sitting next to him!’ Simon hissed through clenched teeth.
“Sure!” Thomas replied, not hiding his agitation.
Having no choice but to look at Michael stretching again, who had clearly not yet realized he was in the editorial office, he addressed him firmly: "Dude, you're at work! Do me a favor and don’t move for five minutes! Okay? And just shut up!”
“Are you talking to me?” Michael asked, surprised, as if he didn't know what his friend was talking about.
“Yes. I'm talking to you.” Thomas hissed right in his ear.
"Dear gentleman, a very big event is happening; sports competitions of journalists are held today.” Announced the chief editor.
“Yeah... so what?” Michael became interested.
The editor, ignoring him, continued:
“The income from the entire event will be donated to the newly created family orphanage for the purchase of equipment! A noble cause, gentlemen!”
She looked at the faces of her subordinates, but didn’t notice even a bit of enthusiasm. She guessed how they felt at that moment. Before entering the editorial office, she spoke to the guards and the concierge. She found out that they had ‘painted’ all night.
“Glorious!” Michael agreed.
“Our editorial team has been invited to participate in the competition, just like every year. We have accepted the invitation. Here are your outfits, gentlemen!” She pointed to the unwrapped package. “At a quarter to ten, we are going to the hall of the Academy of Physical Education, specifically to the swimming pool!”
“What? What pool? What competition?” Michael said, yawning. Then he felt a sharp pain under his ribs.
“Sit quietly!” This time Alex, sitting on the other side, began to silence him. “We're in enough trouble! You have to shut up!”
“I'm going home! I'm tired!” Regardless of anyone, Michael announced loudly.
“Sorry?” The chief editor asked, amused to see him acting like a kid. “Mr. Johnson, did you say something?”
“Nooo...” Michael groaned, both of whom Alex kicked in the ankle, and Thomas sitting on the other side, until he turned green with pain. Moments later, Adam stood behind his back, intending to intervene.
"Gentlemen..." Alice began handing out turquoise swimming trunks, the same towels and the same colored flip-flops. “These are our representative colors!” She proudly lifted the turquoise towel. “Let's represent our magazine with dignity!”
“In such pants?” Michael said, carefully examining the shorts that Alex had handed him a moment earlier. “What a lovely turquoise! In this… ” He sneered, but didn't finish because he felt the pain again, this time under his ribs.
Adam was standing nearby, serving him the coffee he had brought and silencing him in the process.
“What the hell?” Michael gasped as he breathed some air back into his lungs.
"Coffee, my friend!" Adam said slowly, setting a large yellow mug full of liquid in front of him, blocking the view of the chief editor.
Meanwhile, Thomas put his hand over Michael's mouth, begging him not to say anything more.
“With milk and sugar as you like, my friend.” Adam added as he made a barrier between Alice and Michael.
“Any comments, Mr. Johnson?” Seeing what was happening, the editor said. “I am listening to you? I am open to any comments and valuable suggestions.” She continued, irritated.
Michael was silent. No, he had not only a headache, but also aching ankles and ribs.
"You can swim without pants, if that's more comfortable for you, Mr. Johnson." She said ironically. "We've got forty minutes for coffee and a light breakfast!" With that, she got up and headed towards the kitchen.
Journalists, tired of the superhuman effort which turned out to be the completion of the painting and the all-night, drenched party, looked at their bathing trunks and towels.
“Michael, are you swimming today without turquoise pants?” Simon found a little humour, trying to cheer his friend up.
“Get out, Simon! I will fuck you up!” Michael threatened him.
Eventually everyone started laughing. Only in this way could they drown out a colleague who resisted and complained louder, who got up with his left foot today, and in fact, Thomas pulled him out by force from the sleeping bag, because he would have probably slept until noon or longer.
The chief editor was also in a bad mood, they saw that. They knew that another moment and she would have unscrupulously put Michael out the door.
The storm was in the air, they could feel it. If possible, they wanted to prevent it. They had already experienced the show of strength on their part on their own necks.
Since she sent Carl to Geneva without prior notice, without any preparation, and forced all of them to do hard physical work by trickery, she is so ruthless that she will do absolutely anything to get rid of them as soon as possible.
They supposed she had many more surprises up her sleeve and was just waiting for them to give her any excuse to use them.
Without waiting for Alex to bring clean clothes for Michael, she took him home. As she parked the car in front of the entrance, she wondered if she should go in. Her heart was pounding like crazy, she couldn't control her emotions. It was so hard to keep calm. For the first time in ten years, she found herself in a place with so many memories and not only the good ones. She was surprised to see that Michael didn’t change much in the interior. “Did time stop here?” She asked. “For me it has stopped.” He smiled that she noticed that. “Here, you have always had good taste and an unusual sense of daintiness. That's why I didn’t change anything, apart from the kitchen decor.” “Can I have a look around?” “Sure. After all, it's also your home.” “Not any more. I have a few of my own. That's enough.” “Will you allow yourself to be invited for tea?” Michael timidly suggested. “I will just run to my bedroom to put something on, I will be back in 5 minutes.” “Why not, but only green tea wi
"It's been ten years. I don't want to mess with your life, but it's pathetic to watch a great man tumble down. Too painful to look at." “It's my life. You don't want to mess with it? Really?" If she was telling the truth, why did she invade his world again? “You took everything from me. Even the children I fell in love with. Go away!” He drawled through his teeth. “Michael, finish this show.” She knew he was starting to play to make her feel guilty. She knew him too well. In a completely calm tone, she continued: "I didn't take anything from you. I was in an accident in which their parents and my dear friends died. I promised their dying mother that if I survived, I would look after the children. When I picked myself up after the accident, I returned to arrange the adoption.” “What else do you want?” He asked, tr
In front of the clinic, taking advantage of Alex's moment of inattention, while talking to his friend, Michael broke free from him and started to run, but he was still too drunk and his legs were not obeying him. He hit the nearest curb and fell down. He felt the pain and for a moment he had black spots in front of his eyes. He couldn't move and he just raised his head up. He felt a wet trickle on his face, and felt its sweetish taste. “I'm not crazy!” He started screaming as Alex caught up with him. “You are not!” Picking up from the ground, Alex calmed him. He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and put it on his friend's forehead. “You'll stay a few days to detox.” “I'm not crazy!” He continued to defend himself. “You must have my permission to lock me here!”
Alex was even glad that Michael wasn't home. In a hurry, he picked up everything from the floor and neatly put it on the table. He also put his shoes against the wall so they wouldn't get in the way and headed for the kitchen to search for some food.He was surprised to find an empty whiskey bottle on the kitchen table, and there were no signs of his friend having any guests recently. He didn’t see any dirty dishes or pots around the place.The dishwasher was almost empty too, only a few cups and a plate were inside. To his despair, the refrigerator was practically deserted.There was nothing to eat, no leftovers. Just a few pieces of different kinds of French and Swiss cheeses, which he didn't like because they smelled horrible.There was not much choice, so he pu
A few days ago, his older brother's only daughter, Michael’s favorite, turned eighteen years old. On this occasion, as a gift, he sent her a check for a considerable amount, thus wanting to compensate for his absence at the birthday party.Looking at the photo of the party, he had remorse that he didn’t accept the invitation and didn’t fly to them.He checked his email, then agency services, nothing fancy happened. Another coalition has broken up again, the prime minister is threatening to dissolve parliament… The mess has been the same for years.At times like this, he wished he had emigrated like his brothers. Now, he felt too old for any changes.He only dreamed that he would be able to work in relative peace, until he retired and be able to d
On Monday, he returned on the same plane with the same bloated, slant-eyed individuals.He was greeted by an ugly, rainy, completely not July weather. He drove straight from the airport to work. However, he found the editorial office to be empty.“Have you visited the solarium?” Alex greeted him unusually.“Solarium?” Totally surprised by his friend's question, he decided to simply ignore it. “Hello, Alex! How are you?”“Hmm… Not too bad. Where did you get so tanned in such weather?”“I was on a trip by the warm sea.”“Sure, probably on a bike?” Alex said with undisguised irony, knowing very well that M
“You look very pretty, Alice. What's the occasion?” Michael asked.“As always, I know. Thank you. An occasion?” She thought, confusion crossed her face. “Do you not know anything? I'm hosting a party today for my friend at my home.”“I noticed already.”“I forgot to ask you if you brought any suitable outfit.”“Our tastes are very different. Appropriate, what is that?”“Did you pick up any of your linen suits that you parade around at work?”He wondered. In fact, he was only pretending, because he hadn’t thought about a typical summer linen suit.
La Croisette was the most famous promenade of the Côte d'Azur, covered with palm trees, providing shade on a hot day like today. He decided to walk along it.The place was known for the fact that the most famous representatives of show business and the crowds of onlookers looking for their idols were walking around it, if they blended into the crowd somewhere. This was a regular phenomenon and not something that happened only during the film festival.Along the promenade, he met many artists of various kinds, painters who painted portraits of tourists for a dozen or so euros, a caricaturist who wasn’t as good as his editorial artist Simon, acrobats kicking goats, a clown and some quite serious musicians.He paused for a moment next to one of them, a young boy with a storm of blond hair, who looked to be
He was driving in the left-hand lane and could not turn into the right, because the cars were on a string. His car was right behind the car ahead and so on, thus it was impossible to squeeze anywhere. With no other option, he began to apply the brake hard. He slowed down with difficulty.He heard the horns of the cars behind them. Somehow, he avoided the bump. His legs trembled with fear at the mere thought of what would have happened if the cars behind him had not kept the proper distance and had not slowed down in time. He breathed a sigh of relief and was silent.He waited to hear Alice saying ‘I told you so’, but she said nothing."I won't be surprised if one day I hear the news that famous Mr. Johnson tragically died in a car accident." She said in a completely calm tone without a trace of anger.Then, with a sneering smile, she added: "And breaking the rules is my private business. I don’t meddle in your affairs and expect the same