Elena thinks I’m being ironic when I say I feel sorry for various Illuminati, Freemasons, and all those who, according to popular belief, are supposed to control most of the processes in society, events, changes. They have to document it all through history, and make sure it all fits together. Worrying about a single server and the software running on it stresses me out, and I can’t imagine what it would be like to worry about the entire internet and the world beyond it. Billions of people, all with free will, able to do whatever they want—set something on fire, break things, shoot… and the poor Illuminati has to fit all those actions into some kind of planned framework. From a young age, they know that heavy burden awaits them. Such jobs are a family legacy, but what can they gain from it? While they take care of everything, they can’t even find time for fun.
I grew up on the other side of this game. With plastic horseshoes filled with finely chopped bits of gunpowder in the shape of rectangles. I didn’t care who made it, who sold it, or how much profit was made. I only cared about how it burned, the moment when it suddenly flared up, thrilling the whole crowd. Especially when the gunpowder spilled out from several of those horseshoes. Uncle Vladimir always made sure to bring something interesting whenever he came home. He kept an eye on us while we lit them.
And tonight there will be an explosion too. We will play Worms. This time, the worms are at war. We’ve been invited to Ian’s brother Ivan’s place at B Dormitory to play the game.
My worms got knocked out first again. I sat and watched as they played.
“I could’ve gotten us some energy drinks and snacks if we’re going to play for longer?”
Ivan says guests can stay in the dorm until midnight, but he’s friends with the porter, so we can play until about one. The store closes at nine. It’s eight forty-five now. I have to hurry.
I rushed to the store. If the store in the dorm closes, I’d have to go to one of the stores on the nearby Liman stores, where everyone is buying beer after nine. It would be awkward to walk in and ask for snacks while everyone around me has large plastic beer bottles.
I got the drinks and snacks and hurried back upstairs. Ground floor, stairs, mezzanine, more stairs, first floor, stairs… wait. There’s a girl in the side hallway. She looked like Boyana Dosen, but what are the chances? I stepped back a few steps. It was Boyana Dosen.
“Hi, colleague!”
“Hi, colleague. I thought you’d pass by without saying hi, but you came back.”
“I was checking if it was really you. Do you live here?”
“No, I was at a friend’s. And you?”
“We’re playing a game at a friend’s place here, and I just ran out to the store. It’s my turn now, they’re waiting for me. We don’t have much time now. How about you give me your number so we can go for a walk tomorrow?”
I had already decided a long time ago that if I ever ran into Boyana, I’d immediately come up with a reason to invite her for coffee or a walk. I knew there wouldn’t be many chances, so I had to take the first one. If it turned out I was too direct, I’d apologize.
I didn’t bring my phone, so Boyana wrote down my number.
“Wait, this is my number.”
It turned out our numbers differ by one digit. She has a six, and I have an eight.
I forgot I said I was up next in the game, and we ended up talking for almost half an hour in the hallway. I could’ve stayed there all night, but I had to let her go. Now I’ll just dream about her. She’s “over the top” as Max would say.
I headed back to the room, stairs, mezzanine, new stairs. She can’t see me anymore… I can’t believe I finally ran into her. I skipped up the stairs to the room.
I burst into the room, out of breath like I’d been chased in a movie chase scene.
“Good evening, decadent youth. Take the snacks. The war continues!”
The war continued until one a.m.
