"Red! Red, my good man! Come to your senses! Can you hear me?" - Green gave a gentle shake to a soaking wet guy in a school sports uniform who had walked into the Staff Room a couple minutes ago, collapsed on the couch, covered his eyes with the back of his hand, and didn't move.

The door swung wide open and Norman practically ran into the room with his cell phone to his ear, "Found him! He's here! Lying on the couch... condition! Now, wait..." - the man walked over to the guy and asked: "Red, are you okay?", but there was no answer.

"He came in all wet and here he is... lying there for a few minutes now and not talking," Orange standing nearby decided to clear things up a bit.

"Red, for fuck's sake! What happened? Answer me!" - Norman was clearly worked up.

The guy stood up from the couch, took a deep breath, and without raising his eyes said: "It's not like I'm late, so I'm fine. I'll go get ready."

"Did you hear that? I don't know what's going on. He's all wet and his condition is so-so... Maybe he's sick! Okay," Norman agreed with the person on the phone, disconnected his cell phone and grabbed the guy by the shoulder, who had already taken a few steps toward the bathroom.

"Clean yourself up and go home. They'll be here for you soon. I'll deal with the customers - we've got Indigo sitting idle, let him work it off!" - After these words the boy looked up and looked around, and in the room, besides Norman and Green, were Indigo, who was sitting in a chair with his legs apart, and Orange, standing beside the sofa. All had concerned expressions on their faces, and the guy in blue was looking at the perpetrator of this commotion studyingly, and surprisingly without his usual caustic smile.

"Dial Grandpa again and tell him I'm staying," Red said, and Norman realized that this flower boy was clearly out of his mind as he began to reveal personal information aloud, so he put his arm around him and led him down the hallway. The boy, without resistance, obeyed. As they were leaving the room, Orange ran up to them with a towel and threw it over Red's shoulders: "Here, take this. The air conditioners are running full blast. Don't catch cold."

Left alone with the boy, the man began to speak in an already calm tone: "Honey, I can see you're not feeling well at all. Go home and clean yourself up. Ms. Makoto will be making rounds of the properties tomorrow, you better show up for work"

"I can still work today, P. I just need fifteen minutes...I'll be ready," Red said in a quiet husky voice.

"Can you even hear me? Have you thought about what's going on with Troy right now? He made a big fuss when he didn't find you at school! He made a fuss, yelled at your coach, and I got the brunt of it all at once," the boy looked up after the words about coach, but immediately lowered his eyes again.

"I'm here to work off my debt, right! I can't be sick or this punishment will drag on. I'm going to get myself together now and work this day off," Red's voice without any emotional coloring, as well as the blank stare, made Norman realize that none of this was good at all, so he went to extreme measures:

"Okay, little one, listen to me carefully! You go to the bathroom, dry off, and leave this place! If you don't follow orders, I'll... I'll fine you a month's wages and your term in this cloaca will increase! And I don't want to get into the noose of my own guts, and that's what's waiting for me at the hands of your "grandpa" if you stay here now. You got it? Let's go! I expect to see you at the bar tomorrow!"

Red realized that it was pointless to resist further, opened the door and went into the bathroom under the stares of his colleagues.

Without undressing, but only threw off the towel from his shoulders, he stood under the warm jets of water in the shower, closed with a transparent plastic curtain, and cried again. The tears brought out all the pain he'd accumulated over the week. He leaned his arm against the wall, lowered his head and watched the jets of water running down his face and running down the drain:

"I'm so pathetic... like this water: first it lives its crystal clear life, and then it passes through people and into the dirty, filthy sewer..."

A deep sigh. A fleeting smile.

"But don't be sad, droplets! Ahead of you is purification and then - a clean endless ocean. Maybe I, too, have something just as unimaginably bright ahead of me, but for now, stench and filth are my inescapable companions."

Red began to slowly peel off his T-shirt, shorts, and boxers, stood under the jets a moment longer, and turned off the water. Carelessly, hastily wiping himself with a towel, he went to the mirror and realized that he had nothing to wear.

Another heavy sigh

Knock, knock, knock

"Berry, I brought you your clothes," Green's voice came from behind the door.

"Thanks," the boy almost whispered as he wrapped a towel around himself and took the clothes from his coworker's hands.

"Do you want to talk?"

"I want to, but... not today. Thank you."

"Okay. Cherry, look in your pants pocket - you'll find a piece of paper with my phone number on it. Call me. Day or night, I'm always at your disposal," Green gave Red's wet hair a brotherly pat and left.

After getting dressed, the boy grabbed his wet clothes, left the bathroom and walked straight to the hallway exit, but he was stopped by Indigo's voice, as per tradition:

"Leaving already? I don't know if you're really upset or maybe you just have great acting skills! You'll probably walk out the door, laugh at us, and run off to hang out with your high school buddies! Huh? Either way, you owe me, you little rat! It's your fault I have to please your daddies today."

"Shut up!" - Green and Orange said in unison.

"What are you yelling for?" - A panting Violet ran into the room, "Phew, not too late! Where are you going?" - The guy in the club black jacket looked at a coworker standing next to the door.

Violet

"..." - Without saying anything, Red squeezed himself between Violet and the doorjamb and wandered down the long hallway.

"Run! Get out of this place as soon as possible!" - the boy quickened his stride, and then tore as fast as he could, as if he were being chased by a swarm of Asian giant hornets.

Only on the street, seeing Troy standing by his car smoking, did Hope stop and then walk calmly in his direction, recovering his breath along the way.

"Get in the car," the man said calmly.

Once in the front seat and feeling perfectly safe again next to Grandpa, choking tears came to the boy's eyes, which he struggled to hold back.

"Do you... do you realize that I've gone a hundred percent gray in the last two hours! I've been saving those ten dark hairs as a reminder of my stormy youth," Troy always delivered any information to Hope in a gentle manner, no matter the situation.

"Ex...cuse me, Grandpa! I just didn't want to ss...stay at school anymore and walked to work," the tears were under control, but the sobs came out, gutting the boy's condition.

"Just... and you didn't even take the phone, you wanted to leave so badly. Okay. Just sob! What are you holding back?! We'll talk at home over a mug of cocoa," Grandpa started the engine and turned on the radio.

"Little by little we are approaching Friday night..." - the announcer began. Hope didn't hear anything further, as his thoughts went back to the memories of what had happened this week, and when he came back to reality, the song had already ended, and the DJ continued:

"Sometimes passions rage not only in the arena of the Colosseum, but also in everyday life. Excessive passions are hardly good for anyone. In this regard, do not forget that a sound and healthy sleep can save you from the excess of emotions. I advise you to choose today's guide to the kingdom of Morpheus - Zom Mari with a cover of the song "First Love""

The pop ballad was very beautiful and touching, and Hope, turning away to the window, gave vent to tears.

Half an hour later they were home and sitting at the table in the small but cozy kitchen. Troy fixed his all-seeing eyes on the boy sitting across from him with a droopy face and eyes red from long sobs, then sighed and began to speak:

"Son, come on, tell me! I'm ready for a therapy session," the man leaned back in his chair and put his foot on his leg, taking a sip of cocoa from his mug, "I can't even imagine what happened in there. Didn't make it into the basket?"

Hope, smiling, snickered: "Grandpa, you're in your repertoire. Played a good match. Just got tired and decided to take a walk..."

"That's a good start. "I just want to bring my big metal cutters and use them to get the truth out of you. So? How was the walk in the rain? Soothing, I guess?"

"I didn't know it was raining out there...*sneeze*!"

"Oh, just what we needed! Maybe it's for the best! Lie down for a couple of days with a temperature of 40, and all the bad thoughts evaporate from your head. So, what? Should I bring the tools?"

"Okay. Don't scare me! I give up... I'm just upset, and I'm also very tired, which is probably why I rushed off to wherever I was going."

"Okay. The glacier's leaking... And what's got you so upset, my dear?" - Troy set the mug on the table, rubbed his hands together in anticipation, and stared at his son with the face of a starving dog whose owner was already bringing out a big bowl of meat.

"I hit the coach..."

"Oh, bull's-eye, as they say! I really wanted to punch him today too! Careless asshole! Sitting in the coach's office during training, lolling around and not watching the students!" - Troy was glad that the coach had gotten what he deserved, but his fun was abruptly interrupted.

"It was a game moment! And... don't call him that," Hope was uncomfortable with the swearing toward the Lion.

"Ahem, ahem, got it, I stand corrected. So what's up with that coach? Upset you, I guess, after the hit?!" - Troy couldn't sit still, he turned half sideways, leaned toward the guy, and sipped from his mug again. His whole being was telling him now that he was going to hear something interesting from his son.

"I wanted to help him, and he asked me not to touch him... well, he looked at me so... sternly."

"And?"

"And that was it."

"That's it???"

"Yes, that's it!"

"Well, if that's all, then I'm going to get my clippers."

"What else do you want to know?" - Hope wanted to keep his yet-to-be-formed feelings for Jake a secret.

Troy

"I want to know why my son was moping around in the rain for an hour and a half, and most likely sobbing, because of the teacher's "stern" look! Answer clearly and truthfully! Tell me if you was sobbing or not?" - Troy continued his interrogation with vigor, starting to quicken his pace and wanting to finally hear the truth.

"Uh-huh, sobbed."

"Did you want him to react differently?"

"I did."

"And your heart was torn apart?"

"Uh-huh."

"And you like him?"

"Like... Grandpa!" - Hope was thoroughly tired and didn't notice how easily Troy had caught him. Seeing Grandpa's smiling eyes, the boy realized that it was no longer appropriate to deny and grandpa completely figured him out.

"Ah, love, love! It's a rare bastard, strangling the best of the best! That's why I'll never fall in love, I guess. It's so much more fun to be a free wind! You can fly right or left," Troy started waving his arms, mimicking the wind.

A person "off the street" would have said there was obviously something wrong with his acting bodily equipment, because the movements were more like a terrifying hurricane than wind. But Hope knew that this incredible man just wanted to lighten the mood and make the conversation less awkward for the guy.

"Grandpa, knock it off! Since you've already figured out everything about my possible feelings for this man, which, for a second, I'm not entirely sure about yet, I'll tell you something else..."

Troy stopped acting windmill and listened to his son's words, leaning back against the table.

"Remember that 'pillow' client?" - Hope didn't know where to begin and decided to remind Troy of the story from earlier in the week.

"I remember. You said he had a thing for you. And?.. Oh, come on! No way! It's just so marvelous how things have gotten so interesting! Tsk-tsk-tsk. The trainer and the client are one and the same person, am I right?!" - Troy perked up again and even jumped up, happy as a child at his guess, then sat down again and continued seriously: "Hmm. Worried that he might blab to someone? Let me talk to him!"

"Oh, Grandpa, I'm not one hundred percent sure he recognized me, sometimes it seems like he doesn't, and sometimes..."

"Like today?"

"Uh-huh. Maybe he figured it out after all and he's sick of looking at me now - me being all positive at school and then at night I change into a prostitute..." - Tears came to his eyes again at the thought, and he lowered his head.

There was a minute's silence.

"Weeeeell. Listen to what I think about this. This man, even if he recognized you, he hasn't shown it in any way yet..."

"And the stern look?" - Hope reminded, interrupting the man.

"Ahahaha! My dear, there could be a thousand and one other reasons for this behavior! Has Cupid completely messed with your bright head?! Maybe he has an itch. So he's taking it out on everyone. What?! That's another option," Troy tried to add positivity to the conversation and his son's thoughts.

"Huh. I guess you're right... *sneeze*"

"That's it, we're done here. Take your medicine and run to bed!" - Troy pulled some pills out of his locker.

"Okay. Good night, grandpa! Maybe the radio isn't lying and sleep will help me," Hope got up from the table and went to his bedroom.

Saturday morning, 8:00 am

The boy woke up to the rain drumming on the roof. His eyes were burning, and Hope was getting a knowing chill:

"It's raining again... Gotta pop some pills. It's still seven hours till the shift. I'll have time to clean myself up"

Having taken two pills at once, the guy went to the bath and after all the morning procedures, went downstairs. Troy was in the kitchen making breakfast.

His pink apron contrasted sharply with the brutal look of the man, who was humming something energetic to himself, dancing and beating the table with a spoon.

The image gave Hope a smile: "Good morning!" - he greeted the buttock-wagging Troy in a husky voice.

"Oh, son! How are you feeling? I thought you'd be snuggling in your crib till lunchtime. I decided to take a day off from training today. Are you glad?! We'll munch on Salapao with pulled pork and red beans on the couch. Anyway, here's a lazy morning of movie watching. So, who's the best Grandpa in the world?" - As he finished speaking, Troy brought the backs of his palms up to his chin and grinned his full thirty-two.

"Undeniably, Grandpa, that title is yours forever and ever!...! I feel like a pickle!" - Hope replied cheerfully and cheerfully, while overcoming his weakness so that Troy wouldn't guess his well-being.

Next, things proceeded according to Troy's plan. Over watching the Korean dorama "Back to 1988" they laughed a lot and commented on the moments. It had been a long time since Hope had had such quality relaxation and fun:

In between episodes, Hope remarked, "I think Dok Sung was written with Jean, they're very similar, mischievous and kind, don't you think?"

"Exactly! The peppercorns aren't much, but they're spicy! By the way, how's the little one doing?"

"She seems fine, but I'm worried that after this story, her thoughts will take her into the wrong jungle. Once she's made up her mind about something, it's hard to change her mind - you can't stop a running elephant by the tail, as they say."

"I'm intrigued. You're friends, so tell her your thoughts directly when you meet her so you won't regret it later. Just be discreet. She's an adult - let her make her life as she sees fit, but remind her to make all decisions on a cool head."

"Uh-huh. Tact is my middle name, Grandpa! I'll be sure to catch her on Monday. Have you see Yellow yet?"

"Haven't had a chance yet. Maybe I'll make it today."

"Good. Let me know how it goes tonight."

In the warm atmosphere, over leisurely conversation and delicious food, the lad's mental moping diminished many times over as the birds took it easy and fluttered away.

Going upstairs to get ready, Hope took his temperature, as he felt a little weak. The thermometer showed - 37.6.

"That's not a problem. I'll take my medicine and I'm alive!" - thought the boy, swallowing another pill.

Red Dragon Club, 2:50 p.m. (14:50)

There were four areas of the Red Dragon Club. The first was the open part - the restaurant, with panoramic windows overlooking the blooming garden, as well as an abundance of plants inside. The second - a large dance club area with a large number of tables and several stages - one long, dividing the hall in half, with poles and dancers, and a large stage, which often held various entertainment shows, guest musicians performed, and DJs played their records. The third - a bar, which was a long room without windows with many secluded tables with sofas, separated by dense curtains in several layers, where customers could have privacy. The fourth was a "rainbow" brothel hidden from view in the basement.

On weekends, Red worked from 3 p.m. to 00:00 a.m. as a waiter in one of the first three parts of the Club, each with its own rules for employees, as well as a different uniform.

An excited Norman's assistant immediately ran up to the guy entering through the back door with a clipboard in hand, "Red, you're here! Great! You're working at the Bar today."

"P'Aran, no corporate tonight?" - Red immediately clarified, as closed events brought him the most trouble.

"Yes, but it's open top day, and don't forget your tie!" - Aran quickly replied, running off.

A white uniform was provided for the Bar's employees, but each week the top changed: a small vest in three flaps and one button, a sweater in a very large net, ties, bow ties, chains; only the pants remained the same.

Quickly changing his clothes, Red entered the Bar section of the club on time. He felt faint, and his throat was a little scratchy, but there was no fever, he felt.

The customers had already taken three tables, and Hope immediately began to serve them.

After a couple of hours, the three men at the first table were already very drunk, as they were relentlessly chasing Red for more cocktails.

Walking over to table 1, as the customers pressed the call button again, Hope asked: "Anything else, Khun?"

"You!" - replied a drunken man in his forties and, grabbing the guy by the tie, sat him on his lap.

According to the Bar's rules, visitors could touch the employees, but no more. Those who wanted more were invited to go to the brothel and party there, if any of the "workers" were available at the moment.

"I know the rules, so sit down and don't move!" - With Red's back pressed against him, the man frantically stroked his stomach and chest, squeezing his muscles hard with his fingers, and explored his long thin neck with his lips.

The client's breathing brought the heavy odor of liquor and cigarettes to Red. Feeling that in the man's pants something is getting bigger, Red still didn't move, as everything was still within limits for now.

"That's the kind of dog I want to have in my house! To sit and wait and give herself to me whenever I want her to! Bark, buddy!" - The customer said vile things and continued to slobber on Red's neck and back, while the other two men grinned.

As the man's hand began to advance to the front of the guy's pants, a smiling Norman approached the table, "Good evening, I'm Norman, the manager. Dear ones, do you all like everything about our establishment?"

Hearing an affirmative answer, he continued: "I ask you to please let our employee go so he can do his job. If you wish to continue the fun, I can offer you our private sector."

"We know your sector! You'd have to pay a lot of money to have fun there!" - said one of the drunken men.

"Please urge you to let the employee go as he has other duties. The club is offering you a 10% discount on the other guys' services in the private part," the "daddy" persisted, not letting go of his smile.

"Okay, we'll get around to it! We were just about to leave anyway," the swaying visitor said, letting go of Red.

Looking into Norman's eyes, Red faintly nodded his thanks and went on to serve the tables.

As the guy maneuvered between customers, bar and tables, he noticed an elegant, neat middle-aged woman in a fancy dress approaching the manager.

"Ms. Makoto!" - Norman bowed his head respectfully.

"Yup... very handsome kid, only pale today. How's he doing?" - The woman's soft but commanding voice gave away her position in the establishment.

"Not bad. Holding up," Norman replied.

"You idiot, you think I'm interested in his moral or physical condition! Show me the figures!" - A metallic note appeared in the woman's voice.

Norman immediately pulled out a clipboard and opened the table in question: "Here! The numbers are high and stable."

Makoto looked at the numbers for a couple seconds and hummed contentedly: "Not much, of course. Doesn't work a full shift. But not bad. Let's move on!"

There were a lot of visitors that evening, many of whom wanted a moment alone with Red, but he was indifferent to all the lustful touching of his body and the barbed phrases to his address.

An hour before the end of work the guy got dizzy, he felt worse and worse, his throat was no longer sore, but burning like hell.

Approaching the table with the older man once again and pouring champagne into his glass, Red heard: "I see it's bar rules that you have to sit down briefly with a customer if they want it! Sit down!"

"Yes, Khun," the guy said coldly but politely and took a seat next to a man in his sixties.

The visitor approached the guy, and Red was about ready for dirty solicitation when suddenly the man touched his forehead with his hand:

"You've got a high fever, kid. I've been watching you for a long time. The symptoms of an acute respiratory infection are obvious. I'm a doctor by education. You should go home!"

"I'm sorry... My shift isn't over yet. I can't leave," Red was shocked and looked at the man gratefully, as he hadn't met the likes of him before within the walls of this building.

"Take care of yourself! To hell with everything! I've seen a lot of patients like that in my life, neglecting themselves for their livelihood. Health should come first," the man admonished.

"Thank you, but I have to cope, there's less than an hour left and I'm going to rest," the guy stood up, but he couldn't take a step as his eyes went dark and he no longer had control over his body, which collapsed into the passage between the table and the sofa....

Sunday morning

Hope began to slowly regain consciousness and didn't understand what had happened to his body while he was unconscious: why he was in a lying position, why all his bones were breaking so badly and his skin hurt, the last thing he remembered was talking to the elderly Khun. His eyes wouldn't open, his nose was almost out of breath. Bringing his hands up to his face, he began rubbing it slowly to bring himself to his senses.

"You,re finally awake?!" - The native voice was a lifesaving anchor that the boy grabbed onto as he tried to open his eyes and look in the direction where, from the sound of it, it was Troy.

"Take your time, son! I'll get the doctor. Eh, I was wrong to talk about the fever of forty yesterday... But it's all right now," Hope's eyes were slowly adjusting to the light and he could see Grandpa's tired and worried face vaguely, but not clearly.

"Where...are...we?" - Hope barely audibly, hoarsely whispered.

"Norman called me at 11:30 last night and said that a visitor had taken you to the hospital in an emergency. Good thing he checked his credentials and confirmed that this customer was indeed a doctor, or I wouldn't have looked up that he was my apprentice and cut him to shreds!" - Troy recounted, adjusting Hope's pillow.

"All night the fever didn't go down, me and this doctor were by your side the whole time. Your condition is stabilized now, not above 38, thank the gods... You need to eat a little, my good man. I'll get some porridge and warm tea," Troy walked towards the exit of the spacious bright room.

"The sun has peeked out. Good. Gotta get better soon," Hope was having a hard time even thinking in his current state.

"Here comes our handsome boy awake! The young nurses are already queuing up for your treatments! Hehehe. How are you feeling?" - Bar's visitor from yesterday walked in wearing a white coat with a file and a stethoscope in hand.

"Ahem, not bad, doctor," Hope felt a little embarrassed since the doctor had seen all the things his clients had done to him yesterday, so he averted his eyes and blushed slightly.

"Worried? Come on, honey! A job is a job, even a lousy one like this, and I already know you didn't have much choice. I had a sad occasion yesterday and I was looking for a place to sit alone and have a drink, unknowingly I walked into this place for the first time, and the seats in the restaurant were already taken... I must have followed you, hehe. By the way, my name is Sunan," the doctor spoke and examined the guy at the same time: listening to his lungs, taking his temperature with an electronic thermometer, checking the reaction of his pupils to light and looking down his throat.

"Thank you. Ahem...Khun Sunan. I'm Hope."

"Uh-huh, Hope, hehe, that's my niece's name. So, your guardian will take you home today and treat you himself. He was very insistent about it, and I'm not going to cross a man like that, I'm not the only one who cares about my life, heh-heh. You can pick up your school certificate from me when you're well enough to go out. My card's on the nightstand. Now, I'm gonna have to leave. I'm sorry, you're not alone. The nurse will come in and give you another IV. Make sure to eat, but only as much as you can. I'll pass all treatment instructions on to Troy. Get well soon!" - Dr. Sunan finished and left the room with a quick step.

Hope fell asleep three times during the day, the rest of the time Grandpa took care of him, never leaving his side, not even letting him go to the bathroom alone:

"What's wrong? I'm a man too, what haven't I seen there?!"

In the evening they arrived home where they were greeted by Troy's boys, "Hia, we brought everything you asked for, the laundry was changed, the room was ventilated"

"Thank you, my good ones, you will be rewarded!" - Troy replied, supporting the ill looking guy by the waist and leading him inside. He set Hope down on the couch and went to see the guys out. The door was ajar, so the guy could hear everything.

"How's Anuman doing? Is he alive?" - Troy asked.

"Don't worry, Hia. We're taking good care of him, haha, he'll last a long time yet!" - replied one of his students.

"Okay, don't overdo it with him. We'll let him go at the end of next week. I'll be gone tomorrow, tell Calleo he's in charge. Have a good trip, boys," the man said goodbye and went back into the house.

Hope pretended not to hear anything.

During the night, the sick man's fever rose again, and Troy rubbed him and woke him up when it was time to give him medicine. It wasn't until morning that the fever broke and the man went to take a short nap.

Monday morning

The sun broke through the lace curtains and began to shine in Hope's eyes, causing him to wake up and stretch sweetly, glad that his bones and skin hardly hurt anymore. He tried to sit up, but he felt dizzy and fell back onto the bed:

"My first skip of school in a year... Gotta warn my friends."

The door opened, the boy turned his head and, meeting Troy's eyes, spoke hoarsely, "Hi, Grandpa! I'm alive and well, as you can see, a little dizzy, but I think I'll be able to go to school tomorrow"

Troy, who had been leaning silently against the joint until then, immediately walked over to the bed:

"No way, patient! You know me, until you go through a mental and physical scan using Grandpa's method and get approved, I'm not letting you go anywhere."

Troy covered Hope with the blanket, touched his forehead and continued: "You lie like this today and rest all day, and I'll try to keep you entertained in every way I can. I won't let you be sad, and I forbid you to think today about coaches, work, school, and whatever else is upsetting you!"

The man stood up and as he left the room, he added: "I'll get you some food. Lie down and think good thoughts!"

Hope was used to following Troy's orders without question, as his orders were always for the good, so he immediately looked out the window and began to think:

"Good thoughts... good thoughts... Grandpa, Jean, Pruit, school, basketball... Lion... I guess he'll be pretty happy that such a 'nasty me' won't be looming before his eyes today!"