I've had four days of working my other menial jobs and countless thoughts of my encounter with Leonid at the bar.
I received a message that said all servers had a four days break.The bar had been shut down for four days,I guess they have to reconstruct and do some damage control.
I returned to the bar immediately since I need all the money I can get.
The bar changed completely.It looked more.More expensive.The private sector look more secluded.
It was surprisingly calm,in a way that was not deserving considering the situation and violent interaction the previous days ago.The bar manager is seemingly on vacation.I noticed some servers were laid off and there were new strange looking people in their place.Nobody said much,everybody just moved like they were robots who were controlled by someone,somewhere.I was not different from them,not trying to even be,I did the same.My hands moved on autopilot.Clean.Stack.Clean.Stack.
Staring at the glasses stacked I could not help but think,I tried to take my mind away from it but it kept circling back to "What would that man possibly want from me?"
"What does he mean he could use someone like me?"
"Who even am I?"
People like Leonid do not notice people like me by accident.They do not linger.They do not look back twice.He had quietly and throughly like I was a new fine print nobody has bothered to look at.
I try to imagine the kind of work he will make me do.The kind of work you cannot write on a résumé.Certainly not the kind you can speak about.
Listening without talking and reacting.Standing at wrong places at a supposed right time.Keeping doors wide open and Keeping it closed when necessary.Keeping my mouth and the mouth of others shut.Being present when violence did not need witnesses but a little bit of permission.Transporting God knows what.
I have seen and lived long enough to recognize this kind of power.His was very clean on the surface.Too clean.
By the time my shift ended,my decision wasn't even made.My mind and body was filled with tension.My chest became tight like I held my breath.
I tried to put my self together and head home,staring at the ceiling at home,I did something I think I'll regret.I dialed Leonid's assistant number from the card I received from an unidentified person I believe is acquainted with Leonid.
Of course she answered.
Her voice was smooth,very professional and unreadable.She sounded like someone trained to be calm even when things went awry.
"I would like to request a meeting" I said,trying to keep my voice steady.
There was a pause.I heard something like a click on a keyboard.Another pause.
"He will see you tomorrow by Ten a.m.
Do not be late."
The line went dead.
Belov Corporation's building,placed at the heart of the Moscow,rose out of the city like it was built to be worshipped.I noticed this as I stand at the bridge close by,getting down the bridge wondering where I got the courage to call Leonid's assistant and request for an appointment.
And now I'm there.Belov Corporation.It is written at the apex of the building,you can only try to look once so you don't get blinded by the sun.
Glass.Steel.Heights…Great heights.
Inside,everything was precise.The people there moved gracefully,with purpose.They were not rushed but there were not relaxed either.Suits perfectly fitted.Shoes impeccably polished Staff with name tags and their practiced corporate smile that did not seem unnatural to ordinary eyes.
I suddenly felt the weight of myself.My faded black shirt and pants,my whole appearance even.My history. The bar smell of liquor that never quite leaves your skin no matter how often you wash your hands or wherever it comes in contact with.
The elevator ride was silent. No music. No mirrors. Just a smooth ascent that felt longer than it was or how I thought it would be.
When the elevator doors opened, the floor was quieter than the rest of the building. The Carpet was soft enough to swallow sounds.Walls lined with art that looked expensive,like you shouldn't touch them,not that I was even going to,my nerves would only take me as far as meeting this mysterious man.
I saw a familiar face.It was his assistant.She gestured me forward. "He's expecting you" she says.of course he was.
The office was larger than I expected.A wide desk. Minimal clutter. The Floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city like it was something he owned, not something he participated in. The air smelled faintly of leather and something sharp,clean, but not comforting.
The assistant kept a file on his desk.He stood when I entered.
Not in a way to impress,but a way to measure me I assume.
His demeanor was so calm in a way that made me quite uncomfortable as my skin prickled.His eyes stayed on me the way a gun stays aimed in the hands of a professional user.There was not necessarily warmth in his brown eyes.It was then,I noticed the assistant was not in the room with us.
"Sit" he said.
He did not sound unkind.His voice was just certain.
I came closer and sat down.
For a moment,he said nothing.The silence stretched until it became loud.I realized there that this,this waiting was part of how he worked.He does not rush people,he instead lets them reveal themselves.
"You are conflicted" he finally said.
I let out a breath I had not realized I was holding. "This is not exactly familiar to me"
A faint curve reached a dimple.He smirked.
"It's unfamiliar because you are new,quite honest too," he replied. "Most people lie to themselves first here."
I swallowed. "I do not know what I would be stepping into."
"No," he agreed. "You don't."
He stood up,moved around the desk slowly, deliberately, stopping close enough that I could feel his presence without him touching me.
"What you imagine is probably worse than the reality," he continued. "And also not as bad as what could happen if you say no and walk away pretending this never crossed your path."
There it was.
The edge under the silk.
"I don't deal in chaos," he said. "I deal in order. Control. People who understand discretion."
He looked at me then,he really looked.
"You work in a bar. You already live adjacent to this madness,you just managed to avoid it and don't get paid enough for it."
My jaw tightened. He was not wrong. This made it worse.
"I won't ask you to break," he went on. "But I will ask you to carry weight. To see things and keep breathing. To protect what I build."
"And if I can't?" I asked.
"Then you leave with more money than you've ever had," he said calmly. "And the knowledge that I didn't misjudge you."
That should have reassured me.
It didn't.
He returned to his desk and opened a folder.
"I've already made one change," he said, sliding it toward me.I opened it with shaky hands.
Inside the file were documents. Contracts. Numbers that made my stomach flip.
"The bar you work at," he continued, watching my reaction closely. "You'll manage it."
I blinked. "The current manager…"
"is paid," he said simply. "Generously. To disappear"
The word landed heavier than it should have.
"You'll clean matters up. Tighten the staff. Learn who belongs there and who doesn't. That bar is a listening post, whether you realize it or not. I'd rather have someone I can trust at the center of it."
Trust? Trust.
The most dangerous word to say in the room.
"And the pay?" I asked quietly.
He named a figure that made my pulse jump.
"You'll be protected," he added. "And watched. At first."
I met his gaze. There was something there I could not place or understand it. But it wasn't soft. It was sharp. Like standing too close to a blade and admiring how well it was made.
"This world will change you," he said. "It already has. I am just offering structure."
I stood slowly, heart pounding.
"This is strange to me," I admitted. "All of it."
He nodded. "Foreign doesn't mean impossible."
As I turned to leave, his voice stopped me.
"Take the night," he said. "But understand this,once you step fully into my orbit, you won't be untouched again."
I didn't look back.
But I felt him watching me.
I didn't sleep that night.
I lay on my back staring at the ceiling, listening to the city breathe through my cracked windows,sirens far away, footsteps passing, laughter that didn't belong to me. My mind kept replaying my encounter with him at his office. The stillness. The way he spoke as if outcomes were already decided and all that remained was consent,that was not fully in my hands to give.
"Foreign doesn't mean impossible."
By morning, my confusion had changed shape. It wasn't fear exactly. It was something I couldn't find words to explain.