Kelvin Point Shadow

Prologue was here .

The alumni meeting was scheduled in the restaurant, which, fortunately, was not far from my house. This is important - I don't drink as much as anywhere else, as at the alumni meeting. If you go far, I just will not get to the house.

The guys with whom I studied at the institute, after graduation, I saw only at meetings of graduates. In life, we do not intersect with them at all - do not take the presence of friends in social networks as an intersection? That is why these meetings become an amazing opportunity for me.

Once I caught the eye of a movie about two friends who were afraid to go to meet graduates. Like, there Liza Kudrow played ... Yes, "Romy and Michelle at the alumni meeting," it seems so. For 10 years, their achievements were equal to zero, and the girls passion as they wanted not to be an empty place. More precisely, not to seem. Who knows what the fate of the rest? So they came up with a legend: as if they invented glue for paper stickers.

I do not know why they were afraid of this meeting. I'm not afraid. For me, this is like an outlet, for one simple reason: they do not know me there. And it makes no difference to me that they will think about me. More precisely, not so: what they think is fine.

It's like going to an interview - can you tell any heresy about yourself, no one will check? And if they check, then it's okay - they just won't take a job. I already know that they will not take it, otherwise I would not be stuck in my place.

I'll just go to this meeting and get drunk. I'm not interested in how anyone is doing, who will sing what song about their successes in business or personal sphere. I know - they are the same as Robert. That is, like me.

Any of them can put on any mask, and plenty to laugh at this vanity fair. There will be listeners - those who, for some unknown reason, believe that you have to be yourself. Nonsense. It is not interesting to be so. I am myself every day. And I don’t like myself. I do not want to be myself.

All we do is that we try not to be ourselves. No one likes to be themselves. In life, we are boring, gray, and useless. And we want to be bright. No, again to be ... Not to be, but to appear. We want people around us to be bright. To lick us, as in the fairy tale about Cinderella - the famous movie "Pretty Woman."

Therefore, we like to go to supermarket chains, live in such expensive hotels as the budget allows, fly in business class and in general everything called “VIP” or “Premium”. There we are customers, and we are obliged to lick. And if they don’t, then we’ll fill the Internet with angry comments about bad attitude, rudeness and unwillingness to help us - us, customers!

We are not confused by all the virtuality and artificiality of this game. Here I am - man. I sat in the cabin business-class aircraft - I'm still a man. The stewardess came up - she is also a man. I will begin to be capricious that I want not brandy, but brandy or bourbon, and still remain a man, like a stewardess. After all, I could meet her, for example, in a supermarket, and start to be capricious there? Would she listen to me? Not. And in the plane - forced. Because the game is like that.

Though it sounds negative, it makes no difference to me. I will go to the alumni meeting and play the game. At least one evening I will not be gray, boring, disgusting Robert, but those whom I want. And who do I want to be? Hmm ...

They say that if you know the answer to this question, then everything in life will get better. There will be some kind of goal, an understanding of what is right and what is not, what actions are needed to achieve the goal, and which ones only hinder and pull back.

I've lived for 34 years and have no idea who I want to be. Of course, if Agent Smith had offered me, like Cypher in The Matrix, to choose any fate for myself, I would have thought of something. Or not? By the way, an interesting question ... What would I choose? Probably some neutral life of a millionaire, or even a billionaire, not to lose? Like, there will be money, and there I will figure out who I really want to be? So after all, in life, if you ask me, or anyone else, what is missing - will the money be called? Need to think…

Or rather, to dream. What else is left for someone like me? Dream and build oneself. At work, in the family, on the Internet, at a meeting of graduates. By the way, here is the restaurant.

I straightened up a bit, straightened my T-shirt, put on a rotten smile and went inside. In the lobby, a friendly girl met me — apparently, the restaurant manager, or whatever they are called. Without falling out of the role, I slightly expanded my smile.

- Good day! The girl said in a very pleasant voice. - Please remind your name.

As if my name will tell you something, baby. Although I am Robert, but not De Niro. Here is a great moment to play another game. Fun joke to impress her. Something like "my name is too well known to be called." She smiles politely, or even laughs - how do they have there on etiquette to respond to the moronic joke?

- Robert Adams. - I decided to do without games.

The girl smiled again, lowered her eyes, and apparently began to look for me on the guest list.

“Great, all right, Mr. Adams.” - She said, finally. - Come, I'll take you.

The girl came out from behind her small rack and headed for the hall. I, trying not to lose the image, proudly paced after him. The hall was just huge - probably seven hundred places.
In the middle is a rather large dance floor, next to a low stage. There just unpacked some musicians.

The tables were located around the stage, and at a distance, there was even a second floor, more precisely, a balcony, like in a theater, only around the perimeter of the restaurant. Who had the idea to rent such a huge room? Or will the meeting be for the whole flow? Yes, even with their wives? It’s good that I didn’t take mine with me ... Although she didn’t offer it. And I - even more so.

Part of the tables were already taken. At first I tried to see familiar faces, but nothing worked. First of all, as it should be, a cozy atmosphere reigned in the restaurant; in other words, it was dark. Secondly, I have not seen all these people for several years, and even in bright light it is not a fact that I could find out.

- I beg! - the girl stopped near the dance floor and put her arm around the hall. “Something else to help you, Mr. Adams?”

- So, this ... - from an unexpected stop, I was a little confused. - Where to sit something?

- There were no requirements for this. It turns out that each guest chooses a place for himself. Something more help?

“Oh, no, thank you ...” I continued to mumble, then I got ready, returned to the image, and said bravo. - Thank you very much!

- Glad to help. - the girl gave me another radiant smile and hurried to her workplace.

I wonder when they are taught, give any classification of smiles? And situations when they should be applied? This one is radiant, this one is indulgent, but this one is encouraging, there is still a neutral, persistent, like that of a flight attendant, sweet, charming, attractive ... Damn, the programming mind did not go to that steppe again. Where to sit?

Once again I looked around in fear that someone would call me, and will have to remember his name in a hurry. Fortunately, nobody paid attention to me. Sincerely rejoicing in this, I moved to a table located in the farthest corner, under the balcony, away from the scene, and even closed from prying eyes by a large tree, like a ficus.

Not only my table was free, but also several others. Sitting down, I made sure that it was almost not noticeable to others. Eh, it would be nice among those present to no longer have the same clogged introverts, drunks, then I would have done without neighbors.

The table was already laid - there were some snacks, salads, olives in small plates, but the main thing - bottles. I did come for their sake. Occupation for the next minute appeared by itself.

I immediately set aside champagne - I never loved it. There, after a couple of seconds of deliberation, a vermouth liquor unfamiliar to me went. What is left? Whiskey, of course. Yes, not some, and beloved Jack.

And then the most difficult task appeared: is it already possible to drink? As luck would have it, the remoteness of my table did not allow me to consider how this is the case with others. I began to think intensely, make plans for an intelligence operation — maybe run outside, smoke, and collect information on the way? No, some sort of crap ... Well, to hell with it. In the end, it's Jack - if I break the rules, I’ll just pay for the bottle.

I chose a suitable glass, poured half and, without any ceremony, threw it in my mouth. Yes, Jack is good. The smell is not very pleasant in comparison with other brands, but the taste is amazingly light, without too much tartness and alcohol. Charm. I'll put some more.

I did not overturn the second glass, I tried to savor it. He took a sip, held the burning liquid in his mouth, but could not tolerate it for a long time, and swallowed. Not soda, after all. Finishing up the rest, I threw back my head a little.

- Hi Robert.

In surprise, I choked and began to cough. Somehow put the glass on the table so as not to drop - the cough was atrocious. It was impossible to open my eyes and look at the person who called me.

- Do not die of zeal. - I heard through the cough. It seems, it was said very friendly.

Finally, I managed to cope with the scourge. Rather, an effort of will. So it happens when you have a cold - you don't seem to cough anymore, but you still feel some irritating rubbish in your throat, every now and then causing a small spasm. I opened my watering eyes and saw Trevor.

He managed to take a chair opposite and looked at me with interest. He was dressed as if he went to the same shop with me - a T-shirt, jeans and sneakers. A pleasant face, hair with a small gray hair in the temples are cut short, and a famous smile, as if saying - hey, man, relax, everything is fine, I came in peace! This smile has always acted magically on me, and today was no exception. I smiled back because I could not do otherwise.

“Trevor ...” I said, feeling like a sincere idiot who saw the favorite star of show business in the supermarket.

“Good to see you, Rob.” I do not remember when we last met?

- Yes, I also ... Ten years, probably?

- I think, yes. Well, that time has come. Well, how are you?

At first, of course, I wanted to say “nothing”. Then he remembered that he was going to appear on this holiday by someone. Then he realized that he did not invent a legend.

- Yes, as usual. - I shrugged indifferently.

- About nothing?

- What? - I'm a little confused.

- Yes, so I ... Well done, that came.

- Oh, thanks. This is my first like today.

- What?

- Well, like. Nothing significant approval. For which the entire Internet is trying.

- I see you in a good mood.

- Yes, what is there ... Well, I do not listen again, if I start to whine. How are you, Trevor?

- Perfectly.

- You forgot to add "as always." - I smiled.

What is there to dream about - Trevor is always doing well. I still at the institute did not cease to be surprised. I have a blockage with exams - Trevor is already with the highest marks in his pocket. For all the years of my studies, I have never seen him in exams, lectures and seminars. I have no money - Trevor is always ready to lend, and to give - not necessarily. I'm depressed - Trevor drags me to a party or a movie. I get so drunk that I can't walk - Trevor drags me on himself. If it were not for Trevor, I would not have sat at the alumni meeting, because he would not be.

- What are you doing? - I startled from immersion in my own thoughts.

- Easier to find what I do not. Trevor laughed.

I was tempted to joke about his self-confidence. Were it not Trevor, I would not restrain myself. But this is Trevor.

- Flowers, I think, are not involved. - the same irony crept into my words.

- I do. Trevor nodded. - I have a winter garden. Kayfovy, by the way. In Norway.

- Where? - I, as a true representative of my country, poorly versed in geography.

- Norway. This country is in the north of Europe.

“Wonder what ...” I drawled, starting to feel an unpleasant phantom feeling in my stomach.

- Come with Kelly and the children to visit for a week. I, however, do not often go there, but for the week I will move plans with you.

It was said so sincerely, without hypocrisy and arrogance, that I had a lump in my throat rolled up, as if from a tearful movie about a dog. Phantom feeling in the stomach turned into quite real. For some unknown reason, I was getting scared.

- Why do you need a house in Norway? - my voice trembled a little.

- This is my hobby.

- Norway? Or a house?

- Houses.

- In terms of? Do you have a lot of them, or what?

- Yes, about twenty or thirty.

- And everything - in Norway?

- Of course not. - Trevor smiled.

Again this smile. No shadow of ridicule, antics and coquetry. He smiled like a father, a soothing little daughter who was afraid of a nightmare. And I am that little girl. I buried, dissolved, disappeared in that smile. I'm not scared anymore. God, how easy ... I can just talk!

- Where else?

- Alaska, Hawaii, Switzerland, Portugal, Spain, Italy, Egypt, Emirates ...

Trevor kept listing, but I stopped hearing him. I felt uneasy again. I wanted to leave, run away, forget and never remember. Trevor ... Trevor, why did you come? Why are you telling me this? I know for sure that you do not want to offend and humiliate me. But you are doing great. Norway? Switzerland? A bunch of houses? Why are you telling me about this? After all, you are sitting right in front of me. You, live, real, and not some channel on TV, telling about the life of the successful and the rich.

- ... China, Mongolia, Japan, Australia, Russia, Georgia. So, like I did not forget anything ... - Trevor looked up towards the ceiling, trying to remember.

- Russia?

- Well yes. Why?

- Oh, so ...

- Excellent country, by the way. I have a business there and several social projects.

- What kind of business?

I asked questions, feeling just awful. I am a small child, broke my knee, roared, but familiar guys approached me, I quickly wiped away tears and tried to talk to them and pretend that everything was fine with me so as not to drop my face.

- IT-company, development of services. There are a lot of talented programmers, but not everyone knows English or is ready to move. So I organized the company right there.

- What is developed? - Thank God, I can talk on at least one topic without feeling like a complete shit.

- Are you really interested? - Trevor squinted.

- Well, in general terms. - I circled a circle in the air. Apparently, this circle symbolized those very similarities.

- Basically - integration services for business. The type of social networking is the interaction within industries and beyond.

- What is it like?

- In Russia, it is very bad with business automation, and especially with integration. There is a local vendor who flooded the market, but forgot about the existence of the Internet. As a result, every business is sitting and boiling in its own juice. They keep a bunch of people who integrate companies manually - suppliers, contractors, customers. Prices, needs, remnants of goods, analogues and so on - everything is controlled manually. Well, I came up with a social network for business.

- What? In the sense - exactly you invented?

- Well yes.

- Are you a programmer, or what?

- Including.

- This is how - including? Are you a business owner?

- Yes.

- And the programmer?

- Yes.

- Practicing?

- Yes. I love to write code, so far.

- Once "including", who else?

- Another analyst, if we talk about business. A manager is also a profession if quality management is involved, and not just yelling at people. More - an entrepreneur. Design Engineer. A little designer. Marketer. HR. Any activity where there is creativity.

- And what kind of creativity in HR? Interviews hold? Cards account?

- Of course not. People inspire. Social programs to make employees proud of the company in which they work. Help solve personal and family problems. Send for training in other countries. Many things.

- Wait, this is not HR ... Girls usually sit there and shift the papers, and corporate parties do.

- I’m not talking about the HR position, but about the essence of the profession. I am interested in the essence, but I do not sit there all the time.

- But as?

- So. When there is a need or desire. I will come, for example, to a Russian company, walk around the office - I see that everything is rotten. I'll sit in the office for a couple of days, get a laptop, start writing something — a code, or a book — and listen to it myself. In the working space, in the cafe, in the parking lot, in the bowling guys I bring. And listen. Usually a couple of days is enough to understand what is the problem or where.

- So what?

- What and what?

- Well, what is the usual problem?

- In managers, as a rule. They put pressure on people just to put pressure on them. They squeeze out projects, indicators, figures of some kind, believing that this is important to me.

- Is not it so? This is business ...

- Business is not “come on, come on, faster, more, what are you picking on your ass!”. Business is pleasure. For everyone who is in it and connected with it. Well, I decided for myself.

- A profit?

- What is the profit?

- Isn't profit the main thing?

- Profit is important. Trevor nodded. - But she is not in the first place. More precisely, it is not more important than people. If employees are treated like cattle, then they will have to worry about profits. And you alone. And when in the first place people and the atmosphere, the employees themselves will worry about profits, even more than me.

- Is that how it is? Why? You zombied them, or what? What the hell is your profit?

- She's not mine. - Trevor smiled. - In all my businesses, I share it with people. Half to me, half to them. From the half I invest in development.

- Wait, how do you share profits between employees? What is the distribution base? Salary? Position? Any contribution?

- Not. - Trevor mysteriously squinted, took a short pause, and finally said. - Equally between all.

- That is, the cleaner receives as much as the director?

- Yes.

“And how ... Well, how do they look at it?” Managers.

- Poorly. Therefore, I have few managers. And happy, joyful, enthusiastic people - more than enough. Especially in countries where income is critical.

- For example?

- Well, in the same Russia. If a programmer, on average, earns two thousand dollars there, then I have five, or six, up to ten.

- They probably worship you?

- Not. Trevor shrugged. - At first, there were some people trying to create a cult of my personality. My portraits were hung in the cabinets, books were kept on the tables — mine, again. I do not know where they have such a love for hanging portraits ... I stopped all this. Gathered people and said that this is just such a business model, experimental, and I do not need their snot and kissing. Only high-quality work, interest and creativity. And let them not worry about income.

I fell silent, not knowing what else to ask. I have ceased to understand Trevor’s train of thought. He must be kidding me. I decided to make fun of an old friend. Maybe he chose this role for himself for this evening?

I didn’t like this idea, but she somehow explained what was happening. Yes, that is right! Trevor, old rascal, I played out! And I, like a fool, fell for it - I sit, I hung my ears, and even look at the flow of saliva.

From these thoughts, I even felt better a little. Thank God! All this is rubbish! He is the same as me! No way! Builds of someone unknown to make an impression! And for whom? On me, sullen old moron! This thought even made my heart feel good. Maybe I’m not so empty, since there is a person in this world who spends time and energy to please me?

Trevor noticed a change in my mood. I expected him to be upset, but it was not there - Trevor smiled even wider and, for some reason, reached into his pocket for a smartphone.

“I know what you're thinking.” - Trevor looked at me, and his fingers ran across the screen of the device. - I'll show you now.

- What you'll show? - I asked with irony.

- Go here.

I embraced impressively, slowly walked around the table, stood behind Trevor’s shoulder.

- Look. - he pointed to the screen.

The browser in the smartphone showed the site of some company.

“I don't understand a damn thing, Trevor.” - I said haughtily. - What is it, Cyrillic?

- And, damn it, for sure. - Trevor caught himself, abruptly scrolled the page, switched language. - Here look.

- Where? - I asked in the same tone.

- Well, here it is. Owner of company.

“So ...” I pretended to read in order to gain some time. Two words I saw at once - Trevor Jones.

— Погоди, сейчас еще… — Тревор уже вбивал что-то в адресную строку.

Мне снова стало не по себе, будто пелена спала с глаз. Когда происходит на твоих глазах что-нибудь эдакое – завораживающее, или пугающее, а главное – не реальное, ты начинаешь размышлять: может, это сон? Или розыгрыш? Сейчас вот они все остановятся и скажут: улыбнитесь, вас снимает скрытая камера! Но время идет, события развиваются, и до тебя, не спеша, доходит: это реальность. Ты не спишь. Неприятное чувство. Надежда угасала.

— Вот, смотри. – дернул меня за рукав Тревор. – Это сайт моей китайской компании. Видишь имя?

— Вижу. – машинально пробормотал я, хотя и не глядел на экран.

Not able to stand anymore, I returned to the table. Her legs were wadded, sweat appeared on her forehead - either from Trevor and his endless sites, or from whiskey. By the way, whiskey ...

”“ Trevor, will you have a drink? ”I asked quietly and reached for the bottle.

- Why not. - he shrugged his shoulders, picked up the first glass from the table and set me closer. - Come on.

“What shall we drink to?” - I asked when I filled the glasses.

- For you, Robert. - without hesitation, answered Trevor.

Well, for me, so for me. I drained the glass in one gulp and returned it to the table with a loud sound. For me ... Why does this sound like a mockery? What does he mean again? He told me about his wonderful life in order to emphasize the contrast with mine ... I don’t know how to call this mine now ... Mine ... Being? Too pathetic ...

Existence. Yes, yes. Like a stone, or dog poop on a path in the park. They also exist, even bring some benefit. You can hammer a nail with a stone, if there is no hammer at hand, or to smash the head with somebody.

If you collect a lot of these stones, you can build a house. Probably, the owner of the company in which I work thinks so. He is a creator, like Trevor, and we are stones. And he gave at least some meaning to our existence - he built a house. Yourself. And we give him shelter, protect from wind and rain, and rejoice from our whole stone soul. Especially those who were lucky enough to be from the inside of the wall, and look at the Boss.

As he eats, sleeps, plays with children, heats by the fireplace. And to indulge myself with the thought that I’m not just covering up with mold here - out, for them, these wonderful people. I knowingly exist. Maybe even live.

Did Trevor become so? It's unpleasant, but I want to believe it. Otherwise, I do not understand. Otherwise, I lost my last friend in my life.

- Hey, what are you doing? - in Trevor's voice sounded worried notes. - Whiskey got in the wrong throat?

- BUT? - I started, as if from microsna behind the wheel. - What you said?

“Oh, so ...” Trevor smiled and rose from his chair. - I'll go for a walk, there are cases. Do not run away, still talk. To you, it seems, the guest.

Trevor walked around the left ficus, and Tracy appeared on the right. Warden Tracy. The eternal headman.

- Rob, hello! - Tracy threw up her hands and spread them around. Apparently, she was going to hug me.

What I honestly did not want. But I made an effort, got up from my chair, smiled, and wrapped my arms around Tracy’s shoulders. A stereotypical thought was born in my head that the years did not spare anyone, and now our headman became more voluminous, but I stopped short. Nonsense, I had never hugged her before, and I have no idea if Tracy grew in a girth or not.

- What are you doing here alone? - Tracy sat on a chair, from which Trevor retreated.

- Why you are alone? - I dismissively twisted face. - I'm with Trevor.

- With whom? - Tracy frowned, but after a moment she smiled again. “Well, okay, I don’t remember everyone.” Come on, tell me!