could travel somewhere with all my equipment—would you get off the dance floor and follow me? In a long line? Tapping your feet in time with the music?
Almost immediately he stopped thinking about it because a couple of girls, identical twins, jumped onto the low stage and, in one synchronized motion, ripped off their tops, showing off their tanned chests. The crowd roared and applauded, the happy girls danced, and Aspirin glanced at the clock—it was too early for a slow number. Let them enjoy the chaos a little longer.
He suddenly felt terrible. Irina’s silence, the conversation with Alyona, Whiskas’s knowing look, all this nagging and minor comments rolled up into a single poisonous lump, stuck in Aspirin’s throat, and only now did he realize how tired he was of this life. He was exhausted. He felt like dying.
Moving like a fly in honey, he put on a slow number. He needed to last until morning. There was no need for Russian roulette, all he needed was to collapse on his controller and not move. And let someone else deal with his problems.
“Aspirin?”
He turned his head.
The girl was no more than twenty; she had bright green eyes, freckles, and was wearing a sailor’s shirt. Her smile held a hint of danger. Aspirin could have sworn he’d never seen her before—he would have remembered.
“Who are you?” he asked, looking her up and down.
She thrust out her chest, catching his stare. “They call me Castor Oil.”
“Be nice to yourself,” he said, catching himself at the first spark of interest.
She laughed.
“Hey,” Aspirin said. “Can you put this disc into your bag? It’s a gift from Kostya.”
“Wow!” The girl looked at the disc with appreciation. “Sure, I can, but I want one of those for myself. Where is Kostya?”
“He’s sitting right over there. You can talk to him later, but I don’t want to miss the slow dance.”
He took her into his arms right inside the DJ booth.
The night had passed, full of uncomplicated fun. Aspirin woke up in her bed, kissed Nadya on the naked shoulder, and went into the bathroom, wrapped in a sheet. Nadya’s parents were skiing in Switzerland, the apartment was clean and spacious, and standing under the hot streams of water, Aspirin smiled as if a load had fallen off his shoulders.
Coming out, he asked, “Got any food?”
“I don’t know, look in the fridge.”
They cooked a light breakfast. Nadya made some coffee.
“I am going to become a regular at Kuklabuck.”
“Awesome.”
“I listen to Radio Sweetheart too.”
“That’s dumb. Why would you ruin your taste?”
Nadya frowned. “You’re a snob. This pop stuff feeds you, and you turn up your nose.”
“Pop to you, bread and butter to me,” Aspirin said. “Where is my disc, the one Kostya gave me?”
“Are you leaving already?” Nadya asked.
“I am on air at noon.”
Nadya got up to take the dishes to the sink. Aspirin lightly slapped her ass.
“Hey!” Nadya jumped.
“There was a mosquito there,” Aspirin said.
“A mosquito? In winter?”
“I know—lucky I got it.”
She laughed, wiped her hands with a kitchen towel, then sat by Aspirin’s side.
“Will you teach me how to mix tracks? I want to be a DJ too!”
“Sure thing,” Aspirin said.
He had half an hour to stop at home and change. The slush on the road had frozen overnight, and Aspirin nearly wiped out right in front of his building. He unlocked the door; the apartment was unusually quiet. Alyona must have been asleep.
He changed his shirt and went into the kitchen for a beer. A fleeting thought passed through his head—how nice it would be if Alyona never existed, and if this long, difficult story had been nothing but a bad dream. Everything was working out for him right now: his work was going well, his personal life couldn’t have been better, he had money in the bank, the beer was cold, and all he had to do was to live and enjoy living.
So, of course at that moment, the doorbell rang.
Swearing under his breath, Aspirin shuffled into the hallway. He opened the door and saw Irina.
“Hey,” he said cheerfully. “Sorry, I am about to run to my shift.”
“But it’s Sunday,” Irina said.
“Right, but someone asked me to take his shift, at noon. I have zero time to talk.”
Irina remained standing, as if she had not heard a word he said. Her light brown hair was swept back and two vertical lines stood out against her forehead. Aspirin noticed that she had lost weight and looked pale and gaunt.