The flight to distant and stuffy Los Angeles is not easy for all people. Especially if you
e a native Northerner and you can stand the heat.

And if you need a vacation there, like a leper needs a mirror.

Michael Ryers only calmed himself down with one thing, that cute Emma really wants this. Beloved, madly beloved girl, and even with such angelic eyes the color of heavenly azure, this golden baby deserves all the best!

Mike loves her too much, hes almost obsessed with her already. He loves her so much that he is ready to risk even his health for her.

This morning, while presenting another sad confession to a psychotherapist, he also did not forget to mention his deeply traumatized brain and the danger of heat for him, how he starts to go crazy from immeasurable love, also did not remain without attention.

At the airport in Canada, for some reason, he became very scared, it was close to a hysterical fit. From Ontario to Los Angeles is the same as from heaven to hell.

But there seemed to be no excesses. Has the excitement gone away? Yes, where there! Only at the airport he crashed into one guy, a kind of street handsome, a doll boy, whom, probably, the guys would have laid eyes on.

The phone, dancing in the air, flew out of my pocket and hit the floor with force, against this huge pseudo-marble mirror! A nightmare! If these were idiotic modern ultra-thin trinkets, they would have signed a death sentence long ago! And the cover that saved, sat firmly and was not thin…

— Oh! Sorry, sorry!— the handsome man smiled with his pearl teeth. He was scared and embarrassed by his awkwardness.

His childish smile made his soul warm, somehow carefree and Mike mumbled:

— Yes, everything is normal… Nothing… It didn crash…—

Does he love the sight of this guy? Is he gay?

Only this was not enough …

***

He wonder if it is possible to reduce the degree of roasting with some button in hell?

After the infernal torture hotel, which is no less hot, to the beach – it would be better if Emma took a gun and killed him right away!

Having barely gotten used to a large and dense umbrella, Mike ducked under it – he simply could not stand the sun. The skin began to itch, burn, become covered with pimples and, sometimes, spots appeared, large and red, as if they were severe burns.

— Honey, with your anti-sun sores, it would be better for you to go to the hotel, otherwise you will be very ill… Mike, Im serious! No need for another sacrifice! If you feel bad about something, I don want it to get worse!— Emma gets distracted from her sunbathing and takes off her stupid strawberry-shaped glasses with bright pink glasses.

— No, no, what are you! Im fine, its just that this situation is unusual for me…— Ryers sighs.— Emma, Im just tired. And for the first time I see so much sun and sand, which shields the heat. Nothing so special… The

melody of the text message rang out like a thunderclap, although Michael was sure that he had turned off the sound.

So strange, loud **S in silent mode from a completely unfamiliar number. And are there such long numbers? So many numbers…

”Michael, Im going to kill you! ” — the **S broadcast in large letters.

***

What the hell? Is this someones entertainment? Or did someone make a mistake? Who would ever think of having fun like that? What idiots people are!

Michael lay down in front of the air conditioner with considerable bliss. After hell, its just paradise! True, a message, so strange and perhaps even ordinary, would still not come out of my head, if there was someone who was angry at him for one reason or another.

If these are phone jokes, then why did you choose him for this? And how do these underdeveloped pranksters choose?

Michael even tried to call this number once, but the voice on the line said that such a number did not exist.

Heres the deal! How does this number write to him?

After the threatening text message, for some reason, his head began to hurt a lot. No noises drowned out the alarm in his head.

— Mike, Id rather go to the boutique alone. You don look well after the beach. Here, drink this. Not a panacea, but they save from itching and everything else.Emma placed pills and water in front of him.— I drink them if I want to eat shrimp. Okay, see you soon, my love!—

Ryers watched his girlfriend with an exhausted look as she picked up one of her smallest bags and left the room. He also increased the ”minus ” of the air conditioner to almost the temperature of the refrigerator and wearily closed his eyes.

The bliss after fifteen great minutes is interrupted by another **S.

And this is when the phone is turned off? How? Its impossible!

”You
e going to burn alive in your own hell, Michael Ryers! ”

Impotence turns into stupid anger, the fire inside flares up. Although Michael is, in general, a non-drinker, he is now attracted to alcohol. Not to get drunk to death, but at least I really wanted to calm my nerves now.

Only now, looking at his mobile phone taken out of the case, the guy noticed a strange, uneven drop of blood, which had almost smeared on the fabric and plastic of the case. He immediately looked at his fingers, palms, and examined himself in front of the mirror with a flashlight – there were definitely no cuts anywhere.

The atmosphere of the bar, not pompously expensive, but soft, almost retro, calmed him down a little. It was not as brilliant and pretentious as in the restaurant, although it was all in the same hotel building.

— Hello, do you have any Finnish vodka?—Michael asks the bartender and, after receiving an affirmative answer, added::

— Leave the whole bottle.—

From the first glass, a cough first rolled in, then alcohol pleasantly relaxed consciousness and slightly removed all anxiety, all problems.

Even the heat that came here, Michael stopped feeling so much. Its all the magic power of alcohol…

Although he turned off the sound again, the glowing phone screen for some reason still attracted attention. The backlight did not go out…

— Hello! Can I sit down with you?—

This soft voice, beautiful, almost velvety, for some reason strongly remembered Michael, despite one nuance that he had heard it only once before.

The handsome guy from the airport was standing in front of him. Only now the beautiful body was packed in shorts and a sleeveless T-shirt.

— Well, can I sit down with you?—he asked again in his honey-sweet voice.— Please!—

— Yes, yes, of course. Sorry, Im already a little drunk, so Im not thinking straight.—Michael pointed to a nearby lacquered chair with a slightly slow motion.

— Where are you from? And whats your name?— his voice was pleasant, like a caramel sweet pool.

— Michael Ryers, I came here from Canada for a vacation. Im not really used to such scorching heat and Im trying to adapt like this. Its easier to live that way.—Ryers waved his glass.

— Sunset Live, kind of local. With great experience.—the guy introduced himself and laughed when he saw Michaels face, which was stupid from surprise and alcohol.— I didn choose my name! Everyone looks stupid from this!—

— Sunset? I mean, sunset? Hmm, very suitable for such a beautiful face.— alcohol burns your mouth again.— Will you join me? Do you drink vodka or order something weaker?—

— No, what are you! Im a minor, Im not even eighteen…—the guy smiled again.

The same waiter came again (he was closer) and Sunset ordered celery and spinach juice without salt.

— There is little that can digest my stomach, so you can risk your health… And many other things…—

— Do you have some kind of disease?—Michael asked Sunset. He stopped being so distracted by alcohol. The snacks arrived, it took his attention.

— Well, yes, like that… I am very, very strange… After all, everyone has oddities.— suddenly, the very beautiful face that Michael admired began to look just awful.Grave-raising, as if he had been lifted from the grave.—Im dead. I am a living dead man, I have been dead for a very long time and began to hunt for souls that make me alive with their light, and the energy saturates the host. He and I are simply absorbing lives.—

His face has now also changed its color to vomiting disgustingly. Blue, cadaverous.

There was a whiff of cadaverous stench.

The cross fell from Michaels neck and he could not lift it in any way.

— Yes, yes, a nice joke!—Mike grinned angrily.— What, do you like to make fun of drunk people? Go joke somewhere else!—

His mind, very generously flavored with strong alcohol, could not believe in such crazy speeches. It seemed like drunken nonsense, he looked at all this calmly, because he did not believe that it was real.

Sunsets face had the smile of a deranged psychopath. A madman, obviously, hes just a crazy person.

— You
e an idiot! Ive never been joked about so stupidly before… And are you having fun? I see its fun, asshole!—Michael looked up, sobering.

Something hurt inside. Deep in the body, somewhere in the chest. The same unpleasant feeling was in childhood when he was electrocuted.

Jumping up from his chair and leaving the money on the table, in a colorful shiny bill card, Michael quickly ran to his room. It seems that he even demolished something or someone, but, it seems, no one was alarmed by this.

The very first, desperately scratching in the subconscious desire was to call Emma, collect all the luggage that had already probably tripled and get out of here as fast as possible. This psycho, too convincing for a psycho, scared him to the point of neurostenia already beginning now.

And for some reason, Ryers was always sure that such ordinary services as the police and psychiatry would be able to do nothing here at all. They simply won find this guy or won come at all.

Something inside the familiar, dragging, nasty as a mosquito bite pain pulsed.

In the silence, the forgotten phone rang and rattled in the pocket of his jeans, scratching his skin, Michael screams. From such a scream, he probably already alarmed the whole floor. It was loud… Or maybe, in general, the whole hotel

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