Tursed my worid upside down

At work, Klaus behaved as usual, was rude to his colleagues and extremely polite to the guests. Egor decided that all the oddities he had noticed over the past few days were a figment of his imagination. But he still watched the prince every free minute.

A few hours later, a VIP waiter came down from the second floor. That was what the bar staff called those who worked upstairs. Egor didn't know exactly how their job differed from his own, but rumor had it that only special visitors came there, so the staff was selected according to some criteria. Those who worked downstairs never went upstairs. That was the rule.

This VIP employee, Egor didn't know his name, approached Klaus, said something to him, and they both went towards the stairs. Egor didn't have time to stop them and find out what was going on. Klaus disappeared into the restricted area with an expressionless face and a very straight posture.

The prince stepped over the last step and found himself on the second floor. From the first day, he wanted to know what was here, but he didn't think that the price for his curiosity would be this. The hall was dimly lit, no tables or a bar, only rows of closed rooms with signs with numbers hanging on the doors. Along the narrow corridors, there were deep purple carpets, and on the other side of the hall was another door. A separate entrance for clients.

"Welcome to our abode," his new acquaintance waved his hand, as if introducing the hall to Klaus.

"What should I do?"

"First, let's get acquainted. I'm Stas. Twenty-two years old, studying economics."

"Klaus."

Expectant look.

"I Twenty years old. Not studying."

"I don't understand why Clara decided to transfer you here. She doesn't usually do this, but I was told to bring you up to speed. The first thing I would advise you is to learn to smile. With such a stone face, you won't be in demand."

"I didn't ask for your advice. Tell me what I should do here, and I'll get to work."

Klaus saw that Stas was unhappy with his behavior, so what? He was one of those who licked special clients and walked on their hind legs in front of them for the sake of a couple of extra crisp bills. Disgusting. Just like Klaus himself would soon do. This made it even worse.

"I think it will be easier for you to see everything clearly. Clara attached you to me, which means that today you will follow behind and absorb everything. In principle, your new duties will not be too different from the previous ones. Anyway, let's go, you will see everything for yourself."

Klaus silently looked at Stas and waited for them to start. Stas, in turn, was apparently waiting for some kind of feedback from his new protégé. He didn't get any. He sighed, shook his head and beckoned the guy to follow him.

Stas turned the corner from the stairs. There, as Klaus understood, there was a kitchen and a bar. He went to a large rectangular table in the center of the room and took a tray with snacks, a bucket of ice and a bottle of champagne. At that moment, another beautiful blonde with big gray eyes and full lips approached the table. She was wearing a tight black dress just above the knees and high heels. Klaus's gaze was involuntarily drawn to her deep cleavage. Noticing this, the girl smiled at him and winked playfully.

"New guy?" she turned to Stas.

"That's the one transferred from the lower floor, Klaus. Today he's my ward."

"I'm Alice, call me if you need help."

Klaus just nodded in response.

"First, you need to change. Your suit is ready, it's hanging in that room over there," Stas pointed to a corner next to the bar counter, or something like a bar counter. "It will have your name on it. I'll take the order and let you know that you'll be accompanying me. If Charlotte agrees, of course."

The unsightly room turned out to be a dressing room, which had a shower, separate lockers, vanity tables, filled with decorative cosmetics and all sorts of care products. It was a men's dressing room. Why so much cosmetics here?

The young man went to the locker with his name on it and took out an ironed, brand new satin black suit, which came with a bow tie, a vest and a crystal white shirt. In the closet there were five more suits of different shades, but all made of satin, several pairs of shoes. Black, dark brown and white, sealed socks and even underwear.

Klaus pulled off his old uniform and threw it aside. The trousers were tight and restricted his movements, the vest emphasized his waist. Yes, there was no argument – ​​Klaus looked great in this suit, but he felt uncomfortable. He threw on his jacket and tightened his tie.

"Are you ready?" Stas's impatient voice was heard at the door.

"Yes."

"No, no, no!" the young man protested. "Look at me. Is this how I look?"

Shaking his head, as if Klaus were an inept child, the VIP waiter came up, pulled off his jacket, untied his tie, and unbuttoned a couple of the top buttons.

"There. Now everything is perfect."

Klaus looked in the mirror again. Now he looked as if he had dressed in a hurry and had not managed to finish.

"This is not a very presentable look," he noted.

"Your task is to show off your sexuality. Guests do not come to us to appreciate your ability to knit ties. They come to relax."

Klaus silently followed Stas, carrying a bucket of ice and a bottle of champagne. They stopped at one of the rooms. Stas exhaled, pulled a dazzling smile on his face, and knocked his knuckles on the door a couple of times, opening it.

"Good evening ladies, here I am!"

The room turned out to be small and almost all of its space was taken up by soft sofas surrounding a small glass table. There was a curtained window on the far wall. The dull bluish color matched the furniture, in the corner there was an old record player and a modern music center. On the wall were a couple of vulgar paintings with naked bodies intertwined in an unreal ball.

In the center sat a woman in a bright yellow dress that completely hid her upper body, but favorably emphasized her legs. She was clearly older than she wanted to appear, but she was not very good at hiding her age. Bright makeup camouflaged wrinkles, but if you look down at the part of her exposed neck or look at her hands, it becomes immediately clear that she was clearly already at the age to peacefully read fairy tales to her grandchildren by the fireplace, and not walk around clubs.

There were three other women sitting next to her, all about her age, and one in her thirties, nervously clutching her hands and looking around the room as if she had no idea how she got there. The youngest looked the most modest of all. A simple, single-color cream cocktail dress that emphasized her waist and then flared into a wide skirt that reached her knees. On her feet were pumps without heels, her hair was pulled up, and her only jewelry was small stud earrings.

"Stasik! We've been waiting for you!"

"I beg your pardon, as I told you, our newcomer will be joining us today. Klaus," the VIP waiter pointed with his hand at Klaus standing behind him.

All eyes turned to him. He mentally took a deep breath and put on his now familiar mask.

"Good evening, ladies," he smiled broadly and bowed slightly "I hope you won't mind my company" he raised his head and looked into the eyes of the one who, apparently, was their leader. The woman appreciated the gesture and smiled broadly.

"What a polite boy! And so handsome. Ladies, we don't mind, do we?" she wrapped her shining gaze around her companions. A murmur of approval was heard.

Stas couldn't believe his eyes. Now he understood why Klara was so furiously trying to lure this guy to the second floor. He plays his role masterfully. When Stas saw him for the first time, he noted that the guy was very attractive. Long black hair, chiseled cheekbones, interesting tattoos, a commanding look, but he couldn't even imagine that this rude and uncommunicative youth could be such a professional!

Klaus answered questions, smiled, poured champagne and did all this so casually, as if he was created for this job. Gradually, he switched all attention to himself and Stas, who expected to transfer the service (bring snacks, alcohol, change the music, etc.) to the newcomer, ended up doing it himself, while Klaus entertained the guests.

"Stasik, bring us another bottle of whiskey! Klaus, you will drink with us, right?"

"If you like," the young man smiled.

"Yes, and one more thing. Our company needs to be diluted. Bring the second menu," Charlotte winked at Stas.

The second menu was a folder with photos and parameters of the employees of the second floor. While the women were busy choosing, Klaus managed to notice his profile.

"Oh, Klaus! You are only twenty years old!" one of the old women giggled.

"Age is just a number, nothing more," Klaus winked at her, and he himself felt sick.

Half an hour and one bottle of champagne later, two more young men joined them. One was Kirill - short and wearing glasses, which made him look like an erudite young man, and the other was his complete opposite, Maxim - pumped up, dark-skinned and not very smart in appearance.

"Baby, come closer," one of the lady in yellow's girlfriends called him.

Klaus didn't remember their names, although he had heard them many times. He decided that he didn't need this information at all and hoped that he was seeing them for the first and last time. He slid down next to the woman on the sofa and brought his ear closer, into which she, breathing loudly and touching her lips to the skin, languidly whispered:

"My niece is bored. To be honest, she didn't want to come here, but I decided that a young girl simply needed to rest. Cheer her up, and I won't skimp on the tip."

"Do you think she will agree to my company? As I have noticed, the girl rejects any signs of attention in her direction. Stas has already tried more than once. Is it worth forcing her to have so much fun?"

"She has been throwing embarrassed glances at you all evening, but you were so absorbed in our attention that you could not notice it. I am sure she will not refuse your company," Thickly lipsticked lips touched Klaus's cheek. He shuddered with disgust inside, but outwardly he only smiled, bowed slightly and went to carry out a new task, trying to discreetly, but with fury, wipe away the wet mark on his cheek.

"Good evening," Klaus smiled at his target. "Can I offer you some more champagne?"

The girl hesitantly turned the almost full glass in her hand and stole a glance at Klaus.

"I suppose you don't like this drink very much?" he continued the conversation, sitting down next to her. - Can I offer you something else?

"All the ladies here drink champagne. You're right, I don't really like it."

"What about whiskey?"

"Well... it... it will be weird if I drink whiskey alone?" she asked hesitantly.

"If you're worried about it, I'd be happy to keep you company. With ice? With cola?"

"Perhaps both," she smiled timidly.

Klaus got up from his seat, scooped up some ice, took an unopened bottle of whiskey, a couple of cans of soda and a plate of snacks, returned to his seat and sat down half-turned to the girl.

He poured whiskey, diluted it with cola, and while his interlocutor was a little distracted, poured non-alcoholic soda into his glass.

"To a pleasant evening," he raised his portion and touched the edge of his glass to hers.

The modest girl at first glance became bolder from a couple of portions of whiskey and, without slowing down, poured more and more into herself.

"Well, tell me," she turned to Klaus with a slurred voice, who continued to play his role clearly. Listen attentively to her complaints. Assent. Pouring whiskey without cola "is it so strange that a woman of thirty-four has never been in a normal relationship?"

"Not at all."

"Yes, yes, I know. You're only saying this because my aunt pays you. And you're only sitting with me for this reason," she shook her head, and then abruptly put both hands on Klaus's chest "But you know what? I don't care! Yes, what difference does it make!" She tore herself away from the young man and drank the rest of the whiskey in one gulp.

"Repeat?"

"I think I've had enough... Although I am relaxing! I am doing it the way Auntie wanted, so yes, pour me some more!"

"Just a minute, we've run out of bottle. I'll go get a new one."

Klaus sighed with relief. He had a few minutes to rest from the woman's incessant chatter. A difficult childhood, strict parents, unsuitable boyfriends, a broken heart. He could write her autobiography!

"Babby, you're a good boy!" the aunt of his ward came up to him. "I've never seen her so talkative and drunk! I think a great way to end the evening would be if you took her home."

The woman grabbed Klaus by the belt, and with her other hand shoved something into his pants from behind, slapping him on the butt, and returned to her muscular gentleman. This time Klaus almost couldn't hold back, but when he pulled the crumpled bills out of his pants, he was stunned. There was his monthly salary! He shoved the bills into his pocket and returned to the girl with a new bottle of whiskey. Now he needed to get rid of it quickly and then he could relax.

When the second bottle was already a third empty, Klaus decided that his guest had had enough.

"Listen, don't you think it's a little stuffy in here? Can I suggest you take a little walk?"

"A... a walk?" the girl asked, stuttering. "I don't think... I don't think that's a good idea."

"Then let me walk you home?"

"Home?" She stared at Klaus in confusion and slowly turned her gaze to her aunt.

"She clearly doesn't have time for you right now," the young man smiled.

"And can you just leave work like that?"

"I can do whatever I want if it makes you feel better."

The girl hung there for a moment. Some understanding was reflected in her gaze, and she blushed sharply.

"Are you unwell," Klaus asked, feigning alarm, leaning closer.

"No, no! Everything is fine! You're right, we should go to my house. Are you sure you don't mind?"

"I'm all for it."

"Oh, you're so young! I feel like I shouldn't do this, but...," she looked Klaus straight in the eyes, nodded to some thoughts of her own and extended her hand to him "let's go."

Klaus, supporting the girl by the elbow, helped her up. She immediately grabbed his hand and leaned on the young man with all her weight. In fact, having quickly said goodbye to everyone, he did not accompany the girl to the exit, but carried her on himself.

"Let's call a taxi. Do you have a phone with you? I left mine in the locker room," Klaus lied.

They stood on the street, having walked only a few meters to the main entrance to the bar. The girl, staggering, tried to find her phone, and when she finally succeeded, she handed it to Klaus.

"There...there hic...there's a taxi number. Call and say my name, they hic...know where to take me."

Klaus took the phone, involuntarily glancing at the window of the bar, where he had worked as a waiter just a few hours ago. In the empty room, pressed against the wall, stood Egor. Opposite him stood a waiter whom Klaus didn't like, but he had safely forgotten his name. It seemed as if this man was threatening Egor. The young man put the phone in his pocket and came closer to the glass.

"Would you mind waiting for me here for a few minutes?" he addressed the drunk girl without turning around.

"Try to be quicker," she answered, clutching the lamppost and trying to keep her balance. "Did you call a taxi?"

Klaus didn't answer. He tried to see what was happening behind the glass. Something flashed in the hand of the waiter threatening Egor. A knife! Klaus pounded on the window. Egor threw him a pleading look, but the second waiter didn't even look back. Klaus yanked the door. It was closed. Without thinking about the consequences, he hit the glass door with his elbow, stuck his hand through the hole and turned the lock. The door swung open.

The sound of breaking glass did not go unnoticed by the waiter, he turned sharply.

"What's going on here?" asked the young man, blood dripping from his knuckles.

"I don't know, he seemed to have gone mad," Egor blurted out and, taking advantage of the fact that his tormentor was distracted, ran straight to Klaus. The colleague saw that the target was slipping away and abruptly threw his cold weapon at Egor's back, but missed. With an inhuman roar, he rushed after him, but Egor had already reached his target and hid behind Klaus.

"Just don't kill him," the frightened guy squeaked, seeing that Klaus was preparing to attack.

"I'll try," he hissed.

The two young men clashed in hand-to-hand combat, with the waiter using all the resources available to him. Teeth, hands, feet, but it was not enough, and after a few seconds he was lying on the floor, and on top of him, pressing his back with one knee and holding both hands in a death grip, sat Klaus.

"Why did you attack Egor?" asked the young man in a frighteningly calm tone.

"Kill him, I have to kill him! Let go," the waiter screamed, writhing.

Klaus looked at this poor guy, at his empty eyes, heard his intermittent breathing. He realized - he was obsessed.

"He's obsessed," he told Egor.

"In what sense?"

"They control him. I don't know how exactly they managed to do it, but he won't rest until he achieves his goal or dies."

"No! Don't kill him," Egor begged in panic.

"Are you suggesting that he kill you?"

"No, but he... It's not his fault! He doesn't understand what he's doing! Can't you just knock him out?"

Without another word, Klaus hit the squirming waiter in the head with one precise movement and he went limp. Klaus let go of his victim and turned to Egor:

"We don't have much time before he wakes up. We need to come up with something or kill him."

"How else can we eliminate this obsession?"

"I already told you."

"There has to be another option!" Egor began to think feverishly, but he knew little about Klaus's world, and if he said that there were only two options, then that was true.

The young people spent only a few minutes in silence. The possessed man groaned and began to come to his senses.

"There is no more time," Klaus said the obvious and began to look around in search of something.

"How quickly he came to!"

"He is possessed. It is difficult to keep him from his goal, even with broken legs he will try to walk. The usual laws of common sense do not work here."

"What are you looking for?"

"A knife. I can't find it."

"Why?" he looked into Klaus's eyes, which reflected a counter question "What do you think?" "Stop! What if we pump the magic out of him, like we did with the spider? Maybe then the obsession will subside."

Klaus thought for a few seconds.

"This might work. In your world of possession there will be nowhere to replenish the magic, but there is one small problem. We have nothing that can absorb it."

"I think this will work perfectly!" Egor took a small ball out of his pocket and extended his hand to the possessed person who was coming to his senses.

"You won't succeed. For the ball to work, a person must have a predisposition to magic," Klaus said, extending his hand to the ball, but Egor had already touched the head of the possessed person. The ball lit up, a thin silver thread stretched from the waiter to the ball. The young people looked at each other in surprise.

"Does that mean I have some kind of magic too?" Egor whispered.

"That means you would have magic if you lived in my world. Apparently, the old woman's genetics are strong and, despite mixing blood with a resident of this world, you still received the gift."

"Cool!" Egor said dreamily, watching as the last drops of magic entered the ball, and it acquired its usual milky hue.

Egor sat down on the floor and watched Klaus, who unceremoniously felt the unconscious body under his feet.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking for an artifact. Here, I found something." The young man put his hand in the waiter's pants pocket and took out an unremarkable stone, no bigger than a bee.

"What is this?" Egor asked, crawling closer. "A stone?" He looked at Klaus in surprise.

"Yes, but not a simple one, here, look. Do you see?" Klaus brought the small stone closer to Egor and he saw a barely distinguishable symbol in the form of an outstretched hand with illegible text.

"What is this?"

"This thing couldn't have just gotten here. Someone came to this world. Someone who can control living beings like puppets. Such a sign is usually placed on any object, and as soon as this object gets to a person or an animal, the magician can instill anything in it, but for this the puppeteer must be relatively close. Certainly not in another world."

"So you want to say that someone else came for you?"

"I just told you that. So," Klaus straightened up and looked around the empty bar. "I need to go, and you call the police and say that someone tried to rob the bar, or come up with something."

"Wait, what about him?" Egor waved his hand towards the waiter. "How am I going to explain that Styopa is lying here? And how am I going to explain everything to him?"

"You don't have to worry about that. When he wakes up, he won't remember anything from the moment of possession. Such people are very suggestible after the curse is lifted. Tell him a story about a robbery or vandalism, decide for yourself, and he will take it at face value."

Klaus took a pink phone out of his pocket and started calling someone.

"I didn't know you got a phone, and such a one at that..."

"It's not mine," the young man waved it off. "Yes, hello. Yes, it's her phone, could you come to the address," Klaus quickly dictated the address of the bar, hung up and put the phone back in his pocket. "I have to go."

Egor stood up from the floor in confusion and trudged towards the exit where Klaus had just disappeared. Through the broken door he began to watch as the young man approached some very drunk woman. She tore her hands away from the lamppost and threw herself on his neck. Klaus pulled back a little, but still put his arm around the stranger's waist and whispered something in her ear. She spoke with displeasure, but Egor could not make out the words.

He stood there, unable to tear his eyes away from the unusual picture. So this is what kind of women he prefers? How can he go and have fun when something like this has happened? Anger clouded his vision. Why should I clean everything up? And who is she anyway? Egor clenched his fists and watched the couple leave, and when they got in and left in a taxi, he took out his phone and dialed the emergency number.

"Yes, hello. I want to report an assault."