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    Mercury Eff
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

A Night with no Stars - 21. Twilight Zone

Hi! I got back to translating and remembered that I used to publish here, so if anyone’s still interested what comes next, here it is.
This is the last chapter I translated back then and soon I will be back with the new one. Enjoy!

Since Aleks has holed up in his studio, he didn't want to leave at all.

Ok, so far he's only spent a few hours here and hasn’t even recorded anything, he was too busy being amazed and pushing all the buttons. It was more of a dump than a studio, because all real studios were already occupied by real artists, but this dump was still the most professional recording place he'd ever set foot in, so he wasn't complaining.

He couldn't stay here forever though, because there were still other duties. Partyka had made it happen for him and Aleks couldn't just hole up here in return. No, he needed to prove that he could do both, appreciate the gift, make the most of it and not blow off his actual job. Maybe it was stupid to think about it as a gift, it's not like Partyka had done it out of the kindness of his heart and wasn't going to get his cut if the whole thing worked out. But he was still the only person who'd given him a chance, decided to invest in him first and then see if it paid off. It was hard not to be at least a bit grateful.

The business was booming, so Aleks had been all over the place lately and now he was also going to be running between the club and the studio and back, which wasn't all that bad, because it left him little time to think about Maks. Only when he got back home late at night, worn out and ready to drop, he went to bed and sleep was suddenly forgotten. It might be because sleeping at his mother's place suddenly felt alien. Even though he had grown up there, he'd been avoiding it as much as possible for quite some time now, even more since meeting Maks. Which was sad really, as if he had no place to call his own. It's not like Maks' place had ever felt like a real home, but this place wasn't it either, it was too dirty in comparison to Maks' always tidy apartment, too noisy outside and too silent inside. Just wrong.

So he was lying late at night, staring at the ceiling and daydreaming. They hadn't spoken to each other in three days and Aleks was wondering obsessively what he was doing right now, whether he had already told her or was planning on it, or wasn't going to tell her at all and was just trying his patience. He must have known that Aleks wouldn't hold on much longer without speaking to him, especially when this time the silent treatment was one-sided. Maks hadn't waited long and texted him the next day. He started slyly with 'I'm going to tell her' and then added 'soon'. Next he sent a pitiful, imploring 'Please, can we talk?'. When that didn't work, he changed tactics, wrote 'I wish you were here right now' and then a simple 'I miss you' and fell silent. Aleks kept holding his ground and never replied, even thought he could only think that he missed him too. He wasn't even sure whether what he was doing made sense or if he was torturing them both just to make his point.

Luckily, he didn't have much time to ponder on it. Partyka, as always, summoned him like a secretary and Aleks only hoped that he would have time to get back to the studio today. He wondered if he could sleep there, it would definitely be an improvement from his mother's place. It was just a dump so nobody should mind, right? And it was solely his, because no self-respecting artist would ever record in such conditions, so why couldn't he bring a couch in, arrange it a bit and live there? That would have its advantages, if he woke up in the middle of the night hit by sudden inspiration, he could not only write it down right away, but also record it. He snorted at his own crazy ideas.

"You will perform," Partyka informed him without any greeting as soon as he saw him in the door. "June seventeenth. In Progression," he specified. It didn't sound like a question.

"Ok," Aleks said slowly, walking in. "Do you think everything will be ready by then?" he asked hesitantly.

Partyka glowered at him. "Is this my project or yours?" he scoffed. Aleks opened his mouth, but Partyka didn't let him interrupt. "Are the backgrounds not gonna be ready in two weeks? I'm not paying for you two to slack off."

Aleks averted his eyes, suddenly feeling like a berated child. "Sure they will be," he muttered under his breath, bracing himself just in case.

Fortunately, Partyka's face softened. "Really, Aleks, let's just speed it up. I don't like to throw money down the drain. And I don't like to wait. Do I look like someone who likes to wait?" he asked.

Aleks knew it was a rhetorical question, but still shook his head vigorously. "I just meant that Szymon mentioned that he's going somewhere and we should..." he started, trying not to sound as if he was defending himself.

"Szymon isn't going anywhere, he's at your disposal for the next two weeks. You can have suggestions for him, but you can't do everything on your own, so he's responsible for backups. We want to get it out in August at the latest, so what's your job?" he asked.

It took Aleks a moment to realize that this one wasn't a rhetorical question. "Not leave the studio for the next two months?" he guessed. It didn't sound too bad. That was what he wanted, right?

"Wrong, because we have also other things to do that are more important and more profitable than your career, and I'm gonna need you for those. Be prepared that you won't have many free evenings this month," he warned.

Aleks hoped he didn't look as pathetic as he felt, because was that even doable? If Partyka was going to have him booked up most of the time, when was he supposed to record? And what about time for Maks?

Partyka apparently noticed his expression, because he added gently, "Listen, kid, I wouldn't drop it all in your lap if I didn't think you're gonna handle it. Because you will. Understood?"

"Yeah," Aleks replied blandly, though he perked up slightly. He must have really been an idiot if such a vague, reluctant praise, that was actually more of a threat than a praise, made him feel flattered. "Progression is pretty big," he noted out of the blue, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"We'll fill it up," Partyka assured him curtly.

Aleks wasn't particularly convinced. "Practically no one knows me..." he protested hesitantly.

"I've said that we'll fill it up," Partyka repeated, starting to sound annoyed. "Are you here to question my every word? You don't get to be privy to every fucking thing I do," he snapped. Aleks shut up dutifully. "By the way, we will need to find you an actual agent, I have Szymon looking into it. But it needs to be someone trusted, so it might take a while. I'll let you know," he said flatly.

Aleks nodded. "Ok. Then I'll..."

"Then go back to your catchy, tragic stories while I go back to the actual work," he prompted him, sitting back.

"When do you think you're going to need me?" Aleks risked one more question.

"You've got a few days," Partyka muttered distractedly, mostly focused on whatever papers he drew from his desk. "Use it wisely," he added and Aleks understood that he was being sent away. He turned around. "Oh, Aleks?" Partyka said suddenly. Aleks glanced over his shoulder to see that he still hadn't looked up. "Nicely done on Thursday. That's what I wanna see, you doing your job without bothering me with it. Keep it up."

Aleks didn't give him an answer and he didn't suppose Partyka expected one. He left quietly, not able to stop the smug grin forcing its way onto his face. He spent a moment basking in self-admiration. Maybe he didn't suck as much as he thought. Maybe he actually was good at it, aside from the pangs of conscience, but who wouldn't have those? Whether it made him a bad guy was highly relative, besides it was always better to be good at something than to suck at it. He didn't see anything wrong with having options.

His good mood wasn't ruined even by Adrian who passed him at the front door. Aleks' eyes were fixed at the floor, but he looked up when he saw his shoes and froze, because Adrian wasn't scowling and glaring at him as he usually did. His gaze was mostly blank and he moved away to let him through. Aleks' eyes narrowed suspiciously, because Adrian was never one to control his temper, but eventually decided to dismiss it. He knew better than to start anything with him. He couldn't help but glance over his shoulder when he was outside. Adrian had stayed put, he was still standing in the door looking right at his back. The corner of his mouth went slightly up at some point. It was such a sleazy smirk and at the same time it said 'I know something you don't'. Aleks was instantly reminded of the text, because it wasn't all that hard to figure out. Adrian had never coped very well with his presence. There was also something odd about that smirk, almost lascivious. Aleks didn't suspect Adrian of having hidden gay urges, but the impression was there. It was more likely that he was just a creep who got hard at the prospect of getting rid of the competition. He suddenly imagined Adrian jerking off to his picture and stabbing it with needles at the same time. He shuddered. Now that was disturbing. He hated fanatics. He would need to keep an eye on him.

He changed his mind the moment he went to get on the bus that would take him back to the studio. They would have so little time and he was already tired. He probably wouldn't be very productive today anyway and he didn't really want to record. He wanted Maks. Without thinking too much about it, he crossed the street and got on the bus going in the opposite direction. They'd gone too far now to throw temper tantrums. Sure, Maks was difficult and loved postponing things indefinitely, but Aleks felt like an asshole leaving him on his own with such a big task. And he couldn't help but think that making demands made him a hypocrite. He wasn't a saint himself, it's not like all of their problems were caused solely by Ewelina.

He went up the stairs and knocked, but no one answered. He waited for another minute before getting out his key and quietly entering the apartment. All the lights were off and it didn't take him long to determine that Maks wasn't here. He frowned, checking the living room just in case. No trace of Maks. He went to the balcony and sat on the bench to smoke.

They were in this together. They were both stuck in a different swamp, but when combined they would at least end up stuck together and being together in one swamp could be pretty cozy. That's why Aleks was going to join up the swamp called Ewelina, lead Maks through it by the hand and make sure he didn't drown. Just like Maks made sure he didn't drown in the lake. That was his fucking job.

He smiled to himself, looking up at the twilight sky. No, he wasn't going to be that guy. He wasn't going to threaten to leave Maks if he didn't comply with his wishes. The world was bloodthirsty enough, they didn't have to be hard on each other on top of that. With that thought he put out the cigarette, went back inside and headed to the bedroom. He lay down on the soft mattress, nestled his face in Maks' pillow and sighed in relief. Now that was more like it. Maybe he would even do without his presence, maybe those walls, the silence typical for gated communities and Maks' smell all around him would be enough.

He was asleep the second he closed his eyes.


***

 

Maks wasn't sure what he was doing here. He was as far from a mommy's boy as possible and when he had a problem, coming to his parents for advice was never his first instinct. But he just thought that so many things in his life had changed in such a short time and he hadn't seen them in ages. It seemed proper. Besides, it didn't hurt to test the waters.

His mom appreciated the surprise, because she threw herself at him when he was still at the door. "Your father is not here," she informed him dryly.

Maks recognized from her tone that they must have had a fight again. He really didn't understand why they kept torturing each other. Sure, maybe there'd been a time when they'd loved each other. Maybe even in some weird sense they still loved each other, though they definitely weren't making it obvious. Suddenly he felt mad at them. Didn't they realize what a shitty example they'd given him and Wiki? Maks was well on his way to following in their footsteps after all, if not for Aleks he would have ended up in a cold, toxic marriage as well, even though he'd been witnessing this catastrophe from early childhood. Couldn't he learn from other's mistakes at all? What the fuck was he thinking? Even before Aleks, how could he have believed that marrying Ewelina would ever be a good idea? He shook his head.

"That's fine, I'm actually here for you," he said casually, following her to the kitchen.

She smiled at him over her shoulder. "I sure hope so. There's also no dinner. You could have warned me," she muttered, visibly disappointed in her own lack of preparation. "You've lost weight," she noticed. "You haven't been overworking yourself, have you?" she asked suspiciously.

Maks smiled indulgently. It wasn't work, it was just stress.

He was going to answer, but she didn't let him. "So where's Ewelina, why didn't you bring her?"

Maks got involuntarily tense. "Work," he said in a non-committal way.

"And why are you not at work?" she picked up. "I wouldn't expect to see you here at this hour. Actually, I wouldn't expect to see you here at all," she added, raising a significant eyebrow, but also smiling to let him know that she wasn't really mad.

Maks' smile widened. "I'm playing hooky," he confessed quietly, leaning against the table.

His mom closed the fridge to come up to him. "How are you doing there?" she asked, putting a hand on his arm with visible concern. Apparently she knew his tendency to white lies, because she added with emphasis, "For real?"

Maks shrugged, averting his eyes. She seemed to know that it meant 'Shitty, but you already know that, so why do you bother to ask?'.

Her face dropped. "Baby..." she started carefully. "I know that your dad put you under terrible pressure. And I know that you only bowed to this pressure for peace of mind and because you thought it was a smart and pragmatic thing to do, but I can't shake off the feeling that you got trapped and now you don't know how to get out," she said helplessly. Yeah, she always struck right home. "I know you have an analytical mind and you're smart, but I can't see you being an economist. You always needed to express yourself. And you were a dreamer, and a determined dreamer at that. I loved it. But then you just gave up. And I understand why you did, but I think you made a mistake. It happened too overnight for me to believe you've thought it through hard enough."

This time Maks didn't avert his eyes. "I think it was a mistake too," he admitted quietly, sounding much calmer than he felt. He didn't know at this point what he was going to tell her. Maybe nothing. Or maybe everything. Let's see how it went.

At first she looked surprised that he owned up to it so easily, then she looked at him with new interest. "I know what your father thought of it. But I never taught you to give up on your dreams. You could have stood up to him at least a little bit," she pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

Maks smiled. Well, she never had a problem with standing up to anyone, that was for sure. "I know I could," he admitted, ashamed of himself. "But it wasn't only about him. Ewelina didn't think it was a good idea either, she wanted me to have a real job first and then think about acting... as a hobby, if at all."

His mom looked thoughtful for a moment. "I can believe that," she said finally. "She's very... down to earth. Not that it's necessarily a bad thing," she assured him quickly. "It's actually healthy for one person in a relationship to be more... pragmatic. Then the other one can have their head up in the clouds," she smiled before adding sternly, "But they can't cut them down, so don't look at Ewelina, if you think seriously about..."

"I'm going to break up with her," Maks cut her off abruptly, sounding as firm as he could.

His mom broke off mid-sentence, leaving her mouth open. For a moment she didn't seem to know how to react at this sudden announcement. "Break up?" she echoed, as if she needed to make sure she'd heard him correctly. "With Ewelina? Don't you think that's a little... drastic? I mean, if there are issues between the two of you, I'm sure you can work it out, you've been together for so long after all..."

Maks eyed her thoughtfully for a long moment. His mom was... he couldn't fully figure her out. On one hand, she had always been encouraging him to work up his passions and make something more of himself than what his father had planned for him. It was hard to say if she was doing it more for him or in spite of his dad. He wasn't sure how far all those pretty words that Maks could do whatever made him happy went. Whether her inclination towards full liberation included her only son choosing a significantly younger boy over his long-term fiancée. His mom had always liked the idea of him and Ewelina together. Maks had no idea why, it was like a re-run of her own marriage after all. His parents also met in high school and stayed together through the years. She liked the idea of him and Ewelina and she liked the idea of him as an actor. Maybe it was because she was an artist herself and the fact that her husband was so well-positioned made it possible for her to sculpt her little masterpieces regardless if they were currently a hit or if there was a standstill. Maybe she just wanted the same for him.

But there was also the other hand. His mom would do anything to get one over on dad and she was ready to go a long way. And his dad... no, he didn't have anything against gay people. He didn't really have anything against anyone, as long as they were far away and weren't complicating what, according to him, was a life order in his immediate surroundings. He was the most non-ideological man on earth. He would probably be all for don't ask, don't tell. To him there were just things that weren't supposed to be acknowledged. Things that could be potentially damaging and it didn't matter whether they were right or wrong, as long as they were questionable. Maks could bet that if he ever found out about Aleks, he would be able to spend his whole life without mentioning his name, just pretending that he didn't exist. If Maks was to follow into his footsteps, he really should just marry Ewelina, make a kid or two and fuck Aleks on the side in secret. That's how it was done after all. Sometimes he was scared that he was more like his dad than he hoped. He was a liar after all. Would he be able to lie through his whole life, to himself, to everyone he ran across? Maybe. Depending on the circumstances, possibly.

His mom was the opposite. She liked everything to be voiced out loud, without beating around the bush, no matter if it was uncomfortable, embarrassing or potentially harmful. Maks kind of respected that.

"Yeah, there are issues between us, the main one being that I don't love her and I don't want to be with her. I don't think I've ever loved her," he said calmly. It sounded even more overwhelming while voiced in such a flat tone.

"You don't..." his mom broke off, obviously lost for words. It took her barely a second to realize that her son was completely serious and the previous astonishment was replaced with curiosity. She glanced around and walked away before he managed to open his mouth. She pulled a bottle of brandy from the cabinet and raised it in question. "I think we're going to need it for this conversation," she explained casually.

Maks made a vague gesture between shrugging and nodding. For a moment he thought about changing the subject from his love life to the fact that she'd been drinking a lot of this stuff lately, but eventually decided against it. One issue at a time. He raised a glass, wetting his lips in its content and relishing the warmth rushing through his body. "No, I don't," he repeated, seeing her expectant stare. "I also don't want to work in finances anymore. I'm going to drop it, go back to the theatre and audition to the drama school. Even if I'm going to get in next year. Or in two years or ten, or never. I..." he hesitated. "I'm not going to compromise on my happiness anymore. I know what I want from life and I intend to go get it," he said firmly. It wasn't until he voiced it out loud that he realized that it was the truth. He did know what he wanted. He did, more or less, know how to make it happen. Right at this moment he even believed it was all attainable.

At first his mom just blinked. "Where is this coming from?" she asked, sounding suspiciously calm. "Not so long ago you were insisting that everything was just the way you wanted it."

"I lied," Maks said flatly, not sounding particularly ashamed or guilty because of this.

His mom glared at him briefly. "I know," she emphasized. "It's just so sudden and... extreme. Are you sure dropping everything and completely starting over is the right way to go about it? You could try it out without burning all your bridges," she suggested carefully.

Maks was silent for a long moment, staring at his glass. Finally he downed its content in one gulp and grimaced slightly before reaching for the bottle to fill the glass back. He knew he was stalling, but he didn't know how to properly explain why it had to be all or nothing.

"Maks, where is this coming from?" his mom repeated impatiently when she didn't get an answer.

"Someone opened my eyes," Maks finally confessed quietly. He looked up at her at the exact moment her eyes widened.

"Oh. I see. Someone," she emphasized the last word. "Well, that changes things," she remarked so casually that Maks had to snort.

"Yeah. It changes everything," he muttered in agreement, staring at the table. He didn't see her eyebrows rise.

"Everything," she echoed knowingly, sounding as if she finally fully understood what was going on. "So who has the magic power of changing everything?" she asked, smirking at him meaningfully.

Maks froze, staring into space instead of at her. He registered the question, but right now his mind was focused on something else. He was in task mode again and the task that needed to be done wasn't going to be pleasant at all. He shook his head distractedly. "It doesn't matter," he dismissed before deciding to use his mom as another guinea pig and put it out there, regardless of what she was going to think of him after. "I need to go to my girlfriend," he broke off before grimacing lightly and correcting himself, "...fiancée... and tell her that I've been cheating on her for the last two months with someone she knows and, what's even worse, actually likes. I don't think she's gonna be very happy with me," he finished lamely.

His mom cracked and snorted loudly, though it didn't sound all that amused. "No! You think?" she mocked before her eyes narrowed. "What's the matter with you, Maks?" she asked suddenly. "I thought you were better than that. My own son, just a common cheater. You really are all the same," she said, sounding almost surprised.

Maks had an unpleasant impression that she was talking from experience. He didn't feel particularly offended by her accusation. She was right after all. "But mom, it's like... real love," he objected quietly, feeling slightly stupid.

That made her look taken aback. "And that makes it ok?" she asked dubiously.

"Doesn't it?" Maks shot back, because it made him feel kind of justified.

"Two months ago maybe it would," she corrected him harshly.

Maks dropped his head, slightly abashed, but still shrugged. "You know, she cheated on me too," he informed her casually. "When I was in England."

She stared at him intently for a long moment. "So was that supposed to be payback?" she asked, frowning. "I never took you for one to get even. You always seemed bigger than that."

"I don't know," he confessed, biting his lip and seriously considering it. The answer came to him after barely a few seconds. "I don't think so. It already didn't matter by then," he said vaguely, but she seemed to know what he meant.

"When you think about it," she started thoughtfully. "Look at how it works. Infidelity is always a test. You either make sure that it's good how it is or find out that it can be better. Shame when two people come to completely different conclusions," she mused philosophically, taking a sip of brandy. "Sometimes I regret I've never tried," she revealed suddenly, sounding relatively ashamed of herself for admitting it out loud. Maks blinked, aghast at the confession. She laughed quietly, shaking her head at herself. "I was always too decent," she scoffed, as if it was actually a reason to feel sorry for herself. Finally she looked up at Maks. "Are you going to stay tonight?" she asked calmly. "Maybe when you've slept it off, you will have even more revelations. Besides, a brand new day is always better to make grand life decisions."

Maks thought he sensed a trace of mockery in her tone, as if she was laughing at him. He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, ok," he said, surprising himself. It's not like his family home had any chance of making it easier on him, but postponing things for the next day had always been his favourite pastime.

His mom nodded. "Good. I suspect tomorrow's not gonna be easy," she remarked. "Are you going to reveal this other name, so I can at least use it in my head?" she added curiously.

"Aleks," Maks said without second thought, then blinked, startled. He wasn't sure why he'd done something so monumentally stupid, besides the fact that for some reason he felt it was safe to tell his mom Aleks' name.

Apparently he was right, because she barely snickered. "Aleks, huh? Is Ola too clichéd?" she asked wryly.

Right. Telling his mom Aleks' name was fine, because it still made her think that Aleks was a woman. On top of that, she'd reacted in almost the same way Maks did when Aleks first introduced himself. Sometimes life was so poetically ironic.

He decided not to correct her. He'd told her the name, hadn't he? He had. He hadn't lied. She could interpret it as she wished. Maybe it was a sign from heaven that it wasn't the right time yet.

So he said nothing, just smiled casually. "I'm going to bed. You should too," he said, leaning in to kiss her cheek. "Don't tell dad, ok?" he added.

She gave him a knowing smile. "Goodnight, Maks."

 

***

 

Someone was talking. It was a little muffled, like in a dream. Maybe it was a dream. He was pretty sure he'd dreamed about something else before, but he couldn't remember.

The voice belonged to his mom. "So where's Aleks, why didn't you bring her?"

Maks opened his mouth to answer, then suddenly froze.

He opened his eyes slowly, instantly fixing his gaze at the very familiar ceiling. He was startled when he realized that he was actually in his parent's house. He repeated the only words he remembered from whatever he dreamed about in his mind. There was something disturbingly wrong with them, but in his dozy state the source of this wrongness was hanging right outside of his grasp.

'So where's Aleks, why didn't you bring her?'

He suddenly tensed, filled by weird, almost suffocating panic. His mom now thought that he had a girlfriend named Aleks and he'd deliberately let her think that. Last night it had seemed like a good idea and an easy way out, but now there was no trace of the relief he would expect to feel after succeeding at keeping his gayness secret. Instead he felt as if his body was protesting violently against the mere idea, even if it was completely irrational. He wasn't planning on coming out of the closet yesterday, it was still too early for that, so it wasn't even that he'd set on doing something and then chickened out. But now it hit him that telling his mom there was someone else and not specifying that someone was a man would result only in his mom believing there was another woman in his life. For some reason it felt more wrong now that his mom knew Aleks existed but misgendered him than when she didn't know about him at all.

He jumped out of bed, glancing briefly at his phone. Seven am. Good enough.

He tried to prepare a speech while he was driving and then when he was parking in front of his building. He didn't know what he was doing it for, he probably wouldn't use it anyway. He opened the door, got inside, went to his bedroom and froze.

He gaped for a moment, stunned, before coming up to him, smiling involuntarily. He got to his knees in front of the bed, resting his elbows on the mattress and staring at his sleeping face. He reached out to brush his fringe from his eyes. Sleeping Aleks was a sight that always filled him with calmness, maybe because normally he was so quick and frenzied, and in slumber he looked much younger, like a vulnerable little kid. It was something Maks never got tired of looking at. He'd missed him, missed him like crazy for these few days. He would really love to join him now, just get undressed, cuddle with him and put everything off for a couple more hours.

But he also really didn't want to have to look him in the eyes and tell him that he still hadn't done it. On the other hand he imagined himself coming back today, waking him up and saying 'I told her'. He could easily see the faint, unbelieving smile that would appear on his face. Aleks would try to hold it back and not let it show how deliriously happy it made him. Maks would then say something along the lines of 'you know I would do anything for you', blushing from head to toe and instantly pretending that something so ridiculously sappy never came out of his mouth.

He hesitated in the door for one more minute, because it was Saturday and barely eight am. But she got up up as early as he did, they were both fucking early birds. And she was going to hate him anyway for ruining her Saturday and weekend and life.

Stop looking for excuses and just do it, he told himself and left the apartment.

Copyright © 2021 Mercury Eff; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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