It is Just a Virus

Chapter two

The sun is shining outside, as always here. I went to the window and pulled the curtain. Clean streets of the city called to go outside and go for a walk, enjoying the warm summer sun and transparent air. I opened the door and went downstairs from the third floor to a beautiful virtual day. The colors are so bright that sometimes it seems that you are like in a movie processed by special programs. Although it was so. But being in the V-world you do not want to return.

I went to Magosta Park. This is, of course, not a street, but the name begins, like on a business card. The greenery was fragrant and seemed to swallow the entire park. A girl on a skateboard flew past like a rocket, followed by her friend, leaving green and red neon trails behind. A little further, reaching almost to heaven, couples in love rode on a swing. I went ahead, hoping to find a clue. Although I perfectly understood that I would not find anything here. I had to go around the entire park, looking at people, paths and benches. Nothing.

Magnolia Street, next on my small list, was ten minutes from the park. The smell of magnolias growing there could be felt two blocks away. A small courtyard of five ten-storey buildings. Several bright pink benches near each house. I went to each bench and examined them from all sides. Of course I didn't find anything. A couple of times it seemed to me that someone was watching me from the windows. Not surprisingly, an unknown person prowls in their courtyard. I pretended to be looking for an earring, touching my ear, and slowly began to leave. At the exit, on the floor, lay a business card. I picked it up immediately. The same as I found at Patricia. Letter D, Magnolia Street. But neither his ID, no phone, no mail, nothing to contact the owner of the business card. I looked at the houses. I cannot knock on every apartment. And what am I going to ask ?! I took a deep breath, realizing the stupidity of the idea. 

Strange business card. Why did she install this program for herself? I wanted to go to the hospital, but the fear that maybe Pattie died, stopped me. I'm a coward. Tears were already preparing to escape from captivity; I sank my nails into my palm, trying to restrain myself. Thoughts are confused like old headphones.  

The sky was like a delicate, pale rose, heralding the twilight. My feet led me to the bar where I work. The noise, like a raven over a prey, circled over the "Realdina", named after the daughter of the boss. The aromas of coffee and alcohol poked their tongues out of the bar and called for new guests. And here the aromas are brighter, tastier, like food, like food from heaven, given by the Gods. The truth is, you're full, but in reality you're still hungry, which sometimes leads to a misunderstanding between your mind and your stomach. I took a step towards the cafe.

I walked into the bar for coffee and see who's on the shift today. A tiny girl with purple hair circled around the bar, pouring orders to customers. I smiled affably at Laila. She often works in the V-world. She liked it here; money paid the same as in real life, only you are lying in your bed. And there are always more customers here, and there were more tips too.

"Hey, Dan. For business here? Coffee?"

"Hi. I passed by, and decided to come here. I will not refuse coffee."

I sat down at the bar, watching Laila nimbly handle the dishes and ingredients, and how deliciously dexterous she was at making delicious coffee. She deftly makes a delightfully tasty coffee. She knows what kind of coffee I like, I often come here for him. I admire her actions, and it is clear that she likes the work very much. With an invariable smile and a bright mood, she gave me coffee, and she took up other orders. I took a sip of the scalding drink. Heat spilled over my throat, slowly, penetrating into the stomach. Slightly tart, a little sweet, with a pinch of cinnamon and a couple drops of orange syrup - a taste of ecstasy and happiness. Such a coffee no one else in Groome Town will do either in reality or in the virtual. Laila is a sorceress. It's a pity that Patricia is not here. 

Laila, apparently noticing my mood, looked at me questioningly.

"Pattie has a problem."

"Wow! What happened?" she leaned over the bar, closer to me, interested in the news.

"Problems with unlicensed software. She had a seizure, and she was taken to the hospital, but where exactly it was taken away, I have not been informed."

"This is awful! Will you do something or wait for the news?"

"I’ll finish my coffee and go find out which hospital she was admitted to. I hope they will tell me."

Laila was going to say something to me, but she was called by the client and she quickly went to him.

Coffee disappeared from the cup imperceptibly quickly. I called Laila and gave her card to pay for the coffee. She scanned it through a bracelet on her arm and immediately gave it to me. And again she ran away to the clients, who were too many today. I put the card in the back pocket of my jeans and went to the exit. I decided to go to the hospital, I didn't want to jump at all. Just a couple of blocks from the cafe. The journey will take about an hour, maybe less.

At the exit from the cafe, I stopped to say goodbye to Laila. A guy was passing by, apparently drunk, he began to enter into my direction. I took a step back, but it was not enough. He leaned against me, with such force that we both began to fall. I tried to grab at least something, waving my hands like a drowning man. Behind me was a table. I fell first on the table, the guy on top of me. The roar from the breaking table merged with my cry. A cry from pain and fear. A sharp pain in the head, arm and leg at the same time. In the eyes of everything blurs. Minute. We are lying on the floor. My back aches, my right foot aches, and I think I tore my jeans. I try to get up, but I do not get a drunk body. This fool is trying to get up, grabbing something for my chest, then for the ass, then for the wreckage of the table, muttering something to himself.

"Get up off me faster," I snapped at him, arms and legs trying to push him away.

Someone ran up to help, and the guy was helped to rise, then to me. I examined myself, and there are jeans torn on the thigh. The bruise shines already in place of the hole. Back I suspect, too, all bruised, every movement was given with pain. I approached the guy and slapped him in the face.

"You moron!"

"Sorry," mumbled the guy and left the cafe.

Laila looked at me sympathetically.

"It's okay, go, I'll take care of here," she said, and began to give instructions to waiters.

I nodded and slowly wandered to the exit. Now I definitely need to go to the hospital.