"Are you going to tell me your name?" Maks asked, trying to appear impassive. The kid said nothing for a long time.

"Aleks," he muttered reluctantly.

Maks glanced at him with amusement. "So... aversion to long names, Aleksander?" he baited him, grinning. When Aleks grimaced, he added cheerfully, "Is Olek too clichéd? Not that Aleks is very sophisticated."

"Did I ask for your input?" Aleks asked frigidly.

Maks shrugged. "I just thought it would be nice not to sit in silence," he said calmly, feeling much more comfortable in his company when he was acting like a child throwing a hissy fit. He was relieved when they crossed the Poniatowski Bridge. He always felt safer on this side of the Vistula. "Where should I drop you off?" He frowned, concerned, when Aleks shrugged. "You're not from here? Do you have anybody who lives here?"

"I'm from Praga."

"We've already passed Praga," Maks observed, receiving a mocking glare. Aleks opened his mouth, probably to say something scathing and insulting, but then his phone rang. Or not his, but the one he'd been looking for so desperately in the bushes. He froze with his eyes glued to the mobile, as if whoever was calling could see him if he made a sudden movement. After a while, the phone went silent, and Aleks exhaled loudly.

"You know, the further, the better," he said, trying to keep his voice light and looking around lit up downtown. Maks wasn't sure when it would hit him, how suspicious it all was, or what the fuck he got himself into.

"I'm going to Ochota," he murmured, apparently having zero survival skills. Aleks nodded eagerly.

"Ochota sounds great."

"Do you have a place to stay?" Maks asked directly. "Do you know anyone there?"

"I know someone everywhere," Aleks scoffed. His lofty tone sounded forced. "I'll figure something out," he added quietly.

Maks closed his eyes, making an internal decision. He kept driving and eventually turned onto Dickens Street. He stopped in front of the entry gate and pushed the button on the remote.

Aleks snapped out of his thoughts. "Okay, I'm gonna go. Thanks for the ride." He opened the door, and Maks only then noticed that the idiot hadn't even fastened his seatbelt.

"Tell me where you're going to go," he demanded curtly. Aleks was taking way too long to answer. "Come back here," he muttered, grabbing the gearbox when the entry gate opened for them. Aleks slammed the door shut, trying to look unwilling but not doing a very good job at hiding his relief.

"You're not some psycho, are you?" he asked quietly.

Maks looked at him, aghast. "You're asking me if I'm a psycho?" He could hardly believe what he was hearing. "I think I'm the one that should be worried."

"Why?" Aleks wondered. "Between the two of us, you're the one who invites a complete stranger to his apartment. Why else would you do that if not to cut off my toes and keep them in the refrigerator?" He sounded deadly serious. "You're either a psycho or painfully naive."

Maks snorted and shook his head, taking his parking spot and turning the engine off. "I'm not a psycho," he assured him. Aleks smirked, because it was almost as if Maks admitted out loud that he was a dupe.

They went upstairs, and Maks opened the front door, extending his hand awkwardly.

Aleks entered slowly. "Nice place. Yours?"

Maks just nodded silently. Aleks took off his shoes, like he suddenly remembered his manners.

"Lucky you," he added, but he didn't sound envious, more like he tried to be polite or said it out of habit.

"Okay, so... make yourself comfortable, and... oh, I only have the couch," Maks realized, wincing from embarrassment, even though he knew he had no reason to be embarrassed. It was his fucking place, and he didn't owe anything to this guy. He just wasn't used to having anyone here apart from Ewelina. Sometimes.

"Sounds good." Aleks was fully accommodating, because the couch did sound good and looked comfortable on top of that.

"You want a beer or something?" Maks had no idea how he should act in a situation such as this one. "Sorry, I've only got Corona, and that's, you know..."

"What? Beer for fags?" Aleks guessed defiantly. Maks' eyes widened. He'd meant it was like, light. He hadn't meant...

"No, I didn't mean..." he sputtered, but Aleks just laughed.

"Relax. Don't worry, it's my favorite." He winked. Maks had no fucking idea whether he was taking a piss or not, but he was pretty sure that he'd either accidentally insulted gay people or called Aleks a fag. No matter which one it was, he could still end up getting his ass kicked. He opened his mouth.

"And stop apologizing." Aleks cut him off, apparently knowing exactly what he was going to say.

Maks dutifully closed his mouth and went to the fridge, aware of the amused eyes escorting him. He opened two bottles.

"Thanks." Aleks took a large gulp. "Do you mind if I—" he started tentatively, pointing his thumb to the balcony door. "—smoke?"

Maks spaced out for a moment. That was probably because of all the surprising shit that stubbornly kept happening that night.

"Sure," he said distractedly. "I don't have an ashtray, but I'll try to figure something out." He turned around a few times awkwardly, not really knowing what he was looking for. Shit, it was painfully obvious that he didn't have any friends who visited him, because in every group of friends there was at least one smoker. Jesus, he was probably making a complete idiot of himself.

Aleks didn't seem to think so, because he graciously took the jar Maks had found for him and went out without a word. Maks watched him take out a matchbox and light one; it illuminated his left profile. He didn't even pretend that he didn't draw nearer when he realized that Aleks was calling someone. It wasn't that he wanted to eavesdrop on his conversation, but he had to admit to being a tiny bit curious. Who wouldn't have been?

"Did they come?" Aleks asked quietly, without further ado. After that, he seemed to only listen for a long time. "Yeah, I got it. I'll check it and drop it off tomorrow morning." Short break. "Yeah, it should be okay where I am right now. I don't really wanna... All right." Another long silence. "The fuck do you mean you didn't clean up? Did they come right away? Fuck, you're sure it's safe? Well, you can't know that. Fine," he snapped eventually. Maks heard clear traces of annoyance in his tone. "You know if you need, I can always... sure, staying out of it, fuck you," he scoffed. "Get off the fucking phone and at least get yourself cleaned up. I'll call you in the morning."

Maks focused fully on pretending that he hadn't heard a word when Aleks exhaled for the last time, threw the butt in the jar, and reopened the balcony door. Still, he was convinced that Aleks knew that he'd heard his conversation and knew that Aleks knew that he knew, but neither of them acknowledged it. Instead, Aleks examined his place for the first time, now that he'd smoked a cigarette he'd longed for so much. His eyes caught a few letters lying on the coffee table.

"Maksymilian Kołodziejczyk, really?" He read upside down and snorted. "How long does it take for you to sign your name?"

"It would probably take hours," Maks shot back without thought. "If I was illiterate."

Aleks smiled but didn't comment. Instead, he switched his attention to picture frames on the shelf. "She's pretty," he observed blandly. "Girlfriend?"

The word 'fiancée' disappeared from Maks' mind as fast as it came.

"Yeah," he said shortly. Ewelina in the photo was around eighteen; Maks had taken it when they'd been at the beach. Her hair was up on the top of her head, and her face was barely visible from behind the huge sunglasses. He didn't remember when he had last seen her so carefree.

"This one's prettier." Aleks pointed to the next frame. "Piece on the side?" he asked mischievously.

Maks glared at him. "Sister," he corrected sourly.

Aleks did a double take. "You don't look alike." It was true; they didn't. Wiki's hair was more strawberry, unlike his dirty blond, and their features weren't very similar either. Wiki looked a lot like their mom. "Yeah, she does seem too young for you."

"For you too," Maks said sharply. Aleks glanced at him over his shoulder with eyebrows raised and snorted.

"So what is it about? You don't seem used to having many guests here, but you keep these frames because... you feel guilty for not paying the two of them enough attention?" he guessed casually. "Or are you emotionally incapacitated and unable to show them that they're important the regular way, so you're trying to compensate?"

Maks blinked, having no idea how to react to that. Was this kid trying to psychoanalyze him an hour after meeting him? What the fuck? He wasn't going to admit out loud how correct his diagnosis was.

"Sorry," Aleks said, in spite of his words sounding completely unapologetic. "Sometimes I don't know when to shut up. Take it easy. It was just a hunch. And there's nothing wrong with that," he emphasized. "Immuring yourself for your own peace of mind is a completely natural desire."

"Are you pretending to be a shrink?" Maks asked skeptically.

Aleks shrugged and grinned. "How do you know I'm not one?" he asked sneakily.

"Doubtful. I don't think they give diplomas to children," Maks snorted. He wasn't sure how young Aleks was; he could be twenty or twenty-one, but probably not older than that.

Aleks glared without much conviction. "Okay, so I'm not."

"And I'm not hiding in here from the rest of the world." For some reason, it bothered him that Aleks had already labeled him as an alienated recluse with no friends. He had friends; it's just that since he'd come back, he hadn't been in the right state of mind to reunite with them and get friendly again.

"You're not?" Aleks sounded almost disappointed. "Shame. I would, if I had a place like yours. But I'm weird and paranoid, so..." he cut off and sipped his beer instead of continuing.

"You're paranoid?" Maks repeated. It was starting to be fun, even though Aleks seemed a little self-involved and more than a little dramatic. He sat across from him, remembering his own beer.

"Sort of. Sometimes when I'm home alone and talking to myself, I get this sudden scare that feral cats are eavesdropping. And then I realize that no one would probably want to listen to me mumbling to myself, let alone cats, cause they're not very interested in anything and are too lazy to collect intel, no matter if it's useful or not."

Maks' eyebrows stopped somewhere in the middle of his forehead while he was listening with a cocked head.

"Feral cats, huh?" He blinked slowly. "You're not particularly sane, are you?"

"No," Aleks said apologetically. For a split second, he looked almost shy. It was a peculiar expression on his face. "I can try, though," he offered half-heartedly.

Maks ducked his head so he couldn't see him smiling. "I doubt it."

Aleks shrugged. "Don't write me off yet."

"No, let's not risk it," Maks decided, not even trying to hide his smile anymore. "You know, you could keep on with this shrink crap; after the feral cats, I could probably believe that you are one and just stopped growing in the middle of adolescence," he mocked. "Only they are mental enough."

"And poets," Aleks mentioned casually.

"Poets? Are you a poet?" Maks couldn't imagine anything more horrifying.

"I sure am," he declared, sounding as if it should be obvious. "Can't you tell?"

Maks allowed himself to look a little closer. Sneakers—what were they called? Air Max? Kids seemed to love them—skinny jeans, gray hoodie, plain and baggy. Something weird on his wrist. What was it? Oh, a tattooed dotted line and a little scissors that were apparently supposed to help someone who was trying to cut off his hand do it as precisely and elegantly as possible. Funny. He was of average height, shorter than him, but only a little bit. The mess on his head was a little too perfect for Maks to believe that its owner didn't spend ages in front of the mirror to achieve that effect. Overall, there was nothing special about him at all.

"No," he said matter-of-factly after studying his inconspicuous appearance. "No one told you that poets are extinct?"

"If you think so, then you clearly don't know where to find them." Aleks smiled mysteriously.

Maks thought he was full of shit. "So, where would I find more of your kind?"

Aleks pondered for a bit without answering, but still looked smug. "I've probably said too much," he muttered, seemingly at ease, like admitting it wasn't a part of saying too much. "I do that, you know. Loose tongue."

"So are you going to tell me what you were doing in the woods and why you were looking for a phone that is not yours?" Maks asked, seizing an opportunity.

Aleks smiled. "Good reflex," he commended him, then immediately stopped smiling. "But no. You will be much happier without this knowledge."

Maks had forgotten that he was supposed to be concerned, but now his anxiety had returned in full force.

"Didn't I save your ass?" he asked quietly. "Don't I deserve an explanation?"

Aleks looked skeptical. "You gave me a lift," he stressed. "From suburbs—"

"It was actually outside of the city bound," Maks disagreed.

"—to downtown—"

"We're more like at the other end of—" he started to correct for the sake of principle.

"—so don't flatter yourself, and why do people like you always think that they deserve something?"

"People like me?" Maks repeated, feeling wounded.

"It's such a stupid point, cause it's based on the false assumption that we live in a world where we get what we deserve and we don't, so."

Maks rolled his eyes. He didn't need the whole debate. "Just 'no' would do fine."

"Yeah? You would stop asking if I just said 'no'?"

"Why do you think that I will stop asking now?" Maks challenged.

Aleks didn't look amused, and for a long moment he was staring at him in resignation. "See, it was so nice, and you've ruined it," he complained grouchily, but for Maks, it was obvious he was trying to hide his apprehension. He still snorted, but inside he was wondering if he should actually stop pressing the issue.

Only after he spread out the blanket on his couch for a strange guy, turned off the lights, entered his bedroom, and sat on the bed was he hit by an overwhelming clarity.

He had no idea what he'd been thinking. He'd never done something so stupid in his life, and suddenly he started to regret that Aleks was in the living room and he wouldn't even have to get past him on his way to the front door. If he wanted, he could take everything out of his apartment, and he would be none the wiser. He didn't know a thing about this kid; he only knew that his name was Aleks (or so he said), and he was a snooty wanker. He could be some nutcase. He could be a con artist, leeching on genuine people's good will and gullibility. He could have some kind of weapon. He could rob him. He could be anything, and Maks had stupidly invited him into his home, so now he couldn't even sleep a wink that night.

Annoyingly, he dozed off the second his face touched the pillow.

•~💥~•

He woke up at some ungodly hour to the sound of something moving around. Last time he had checked, he had lived alone. Who the hell was trotting around his apartment? He jumped in a sudden panic.

Ugh. His brain started to slowly connect the facts. He was groggy because he'd gone to bed at three a.m., and now it was... yes, half past six. He had a right to be groggy. He remembered both Aleks and his own foolishness from the night before, so he got up reluctantly and went to check if his nightly guest was responsible for all this turmoil.

Yup, Aleks was standing barefoot only in boxer briefs and a t-shirt in front of the coffee machine, apparently trying to start it up and looking like he was about to burst into tears. He was also making an uncomprehensible amount of noise. Maks felt himself smiling involuntarily.

"Good morning," he muttered. Aleks turned around, caught in the act. He scowled.

"This thing... is an embodiment of evil," he declared, sounding annoyingly awake. Maks yawned and whisked him away. He wanted to come up with some clever retort, but his brain didn't function properly at this hour. "Sorry, I thought it would be rude to just leave without a word, and I didn't know if I should not wake you up, or wake you up and make you coffee, or—"

"Could you please stop talking?" Maks interrupted wearily.

Aleks immediately shut up, flustered. "No talking to you in the morning, cause you're a dick. Duly noted."

Maks smiled again, handed him the first cup, and turned the TV on out of habit. The news was on. He focused on preparing another cup.

He wasn't sure when exactly the words started to infiltrate his foggy brain, but he suddenly felt fully awake. He put the cup on the kitchen top. He didn't turn to look at the TV.

"...the former military training area between Sulejówek and Rembertów was secured by the police after finding a body today around five a.m. Police haven't been able to identify the victim yet, but by the initial estimation, it is a male between twenty-five and thirty years old. Right now, we know that it was a fatal gunshot injury and that the police have already ruled out suicide. The circumstances are still being examined..." She was talking really fast and sounding surprisingly impassive for someone who was reporting a homicide.

Maks came back to life and turned very slowly. Aleks' eyes were glued to the TV screen. He was a little paler than a minute ago and was biting his nail nervously, but he recovered quickly.

"Damn, some people should really take it easy." He shook his head and even tried to smile, but when he glanced at Maks out of the corner of his eye to check his reaction, there was a clear dread on his face. Maks wasn't impressed at all.

"Cut the bullshit," he said, suspiciously calm. He still wasn't sure when the right moment for panic was going to come. "You were there." There was no doubt in his voice.

Aleks seemed to think that the best defense was a good offense. "Oh, I should probably mention that it wasn't me who killed this guy," he said mildly.

"I didn't say it was you," Maks protested quietly.

"Why? It would be a perfectly reasonable assumption," Aleks snorted, crossing his arms and looking defiantly at Maks, who couldn't believe that the kid had the guts to actually argue with him right now. He also didn't know how it was possible that he still hadn't completely lost his head and was capable of having a pretty rational conversation about it.

"It would be," he agreed. "So why shouldn't I go to the police?" He was trying very hard to appear self-assured.

Aleks smiled, but it wasn't the same smile as before—the warm and genuine one. This smile had something ferocious about it, like this whole façade he'd shown so far was only supposed to lull him into a false sense of security and let Aleks attack when he least expected it. Maks felt himself going numb when Aleks took a step towards him, fighting the impulse to take a step back. He knew he couldn't let him see that he was scared, but the truth was that he really was starting to get scared. Still, he couldn't help but think that it was Aleks. And okay , he didn't know anything about him, but it was the same crazy kid who had been babbling last night about poets and feral cats. Back then, he'd seemed like the least dangerous person on the planet.

Right, back then. Now Aleks covered the distance between them in two long strides and stopped right in front of him. He was a little shorter, but not short enough to have to look up at him, and there was something in his eyes and this lopsided smile that made Maks feel much smaller.

"Because you're clever. And clever boys know that they shouldn't get themselves into situations that are too big for them and that they're not prepared to handle. Come on, Maks, you're not dumb. You must know how horrible things happen sometimes. Like people disappearing without a trace. That's some seriously awful shit. You would have to be insane to want to get into it of your own free will." Now he sounded almost cheerful, like he was talking about the weather. "Thanks for the ride and a place to stay. I'm sure that good karma will come back to you. And now just focus on getting used to the thought that last night never happened," he instructed, and then grabbed both phones, his own and the mysterious one that he was looking for yesterday. Maks gulped. Last night had never happened... It was tempting, but he wasn't sure he could do it. He couldn't handle it—people turning up in his life out of the blue and then disappearing just as unexpectedly.

"So why risking like that and leaving me here with this knowledge?" The words got away before he managed to bite his tongue. Fuck, that was asking for trouble.

Aleks gave him a calculating look. "I hate the mess," he said eventually, sounding indifferent and pointing with his chin to the TV. Maks held his breath and then exhaled loudly. Was that an act? Yeah, it had to be. He was just playing a tough guy. It had to be all just for show to scare him off, so he would keep his mouth shut. Come on, he was just a kid. Only even Maks, who's been completely detached from reality and kept in cotton wool through his entire childhood, knew what some kids were up to these days. "Thanks again. Take care," Aleks went to the hall, and a few seconds later Maks heard the front door clicking. He was still frozen in the middle of the room, feeling completely overwhelmed by last night's and this morning's events.

He should go to the police. Immediately. He had no idea why he was still standing here instead.

'Last night never happened.'

'I should probably mention that it wasn't me who killed this guy.'

Maks tried to pretend that he didn't believe him, but deep down, he knew it was a lie.