Part 1

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-This is a story of a man named Stanley. Stanley or...- the smooth voice the Narrator fell silent for a while. - Stanley?

He was at a loss, the one he was talking about just went somewhere. He wasn't in the office.

-When did he have time?.. - the Narrator was so perplexed that he asked the question out loud. Where could Stanley have gone? And why? These questions and many others tormented the Narrator.

- What has he already done?! - The narrator literally grabbed his head. His gaze darted around Office 427, trying to find the clerk, as if he was hiding from him, but something else caught his attention. Strange white dots and stripes that were on the table, walls and even on the floor. It looks like... - A marker! Oh no.

No, where did he find the marker at all?! If it's forever, then the Narrator will kill Stanley.

The narrator frantically searched for Stanley and was horrified. There were drawings and inscriptions on all the walls of the study. Various flowers, emoticons, incomprehensible squiggles, inscriptions "Hello", "Is there anyone here?".

There was a feeling that this was a child who found felt-tip pens and decided to use walls instead of canvas.

The search went on for quite a long time, there were only a few places where he didn't check, and the first thing he looked at was the star room.

In it, Stanley was found sitting on the floor, hunched over and focused on something.

- Stanley! - the clerk was startled by the unexpected voice - What are you doing here?

The above-named one quickly hid the thing behind his back and pretended as if he had done nothing.

- I start a story, and what do I see? The one about whom the story is, is not clear where! So also ruined the walls in the corridors and not only! Stanley, why did you do that? To annoy me? I definitely don't understand your train of thought. You could have done anything, but you chose to paint the walls. Where did you get this marker? Where is he by the way? - Stanley shrugged in response. - Oooh, don't tell me you don't know, you can't fool me. You have it somewhere, where did you hide it, and Stanley? What are you holding behind your back? Give me that Stanley.

The narrator tried with all his might to see what was behind the clerk's back, but he seemed to feel it and spun like a top and in the end, just shoved the thing under his shirt, which angered the Narrator quite a lot.

- Stanley, if you don't give me this thing yourself, I'll take it by force. - The Narrator's voice was menacing, but the clerk was not confused. He just stuck out his tongue, and significantly, turned around a hundred and eighty degrees. - Oh so?! Well, Stanley... I wanted to solve everything in a good way, but since you don't want it, it will be in a bad way.

A quiet rustle. The narrator is no longer heard. A couple of seconds passed. One minute, two... Still silence. Stanley tensed up, the Narrator was so offended that he staged a strike?

Shrugging his shoulders, the clerk was about to leave, but the sharp sound of rapidly approaching footsteps behind him scared him. Stanley turned around sharply and saw a man a couple of meters away from him. Short brown hair with a little gray hair on the temples, rectangular glasses on a chain, a beautiful face like a model, a blue sweater with a peeking collar of a white shirt, simple black jeans and shoes. Stanley's gaze returned to the face of the familiar stranger. Namely, his eyes, pure blue.

-Stanley, give me that thing quickly. - The man held out his hand, palm up. Wait... this voice... this is.. the Narrator?!

Stanley froze in shock, his eyes widened, and his eyebrows rose so high, as if they trying to escape. Seeing this, the Narrator grinned.

- Why are you frozen? Have you never seen other people? - he smiled mockingly and narrowed his eyes, but this is not the most important thing that surprised the clerk.

There were several reasons for his surprise, the first is that the Narrator is now standing in front of him, and the second is that this is exactly how he imagined him. Could Stanley be a psychic? He'll think about it later, because now is not the situation.

Seeing inaction on the part of the silent interlocutor, the Narrator continued.

- So Stanley, I don't have time to mess with you, give me this thing. - Stanley seemed to wake up from a dream, and vigorously shook his head in different directions. - No? Okay, well, so be it. - the voice sounded casual and uninterested, but the next sentence was said threateningly - Then I'll take it from you by force.

Hearing this, Stanley began to retreat and completely rushed away to the stairs, seeing how the Narrator ran at him. Stanley hoped that the ladder would give him a head start, but only drove himself into a trap. He was caught by the leg halfway up, from which he fell with a crash, painfully hitting his knees, ribs, arms and a little forehead. While he was in pain, reflexively turning on his side and clutching his forehead with his hands, the Narrator promptly took out what Stanley was hiding.

-I'm sorry, Stanley, but I had to do it - it was true, the Narrator never wanted to hurt the clerk, he sincerely felt sorry for the guy. - Sorry. - silent apology and restart.

The narrator sighed heavily and sat down on the step, while Stanley was loading, he would have time to see what was Stanley hiding from him. It was a button, the same button that should pronounce the player's name. But only initially empty, with a white marker pattern...

Him and Stanley. This is exactly what was drawn, the Narrator would not have paid attention to such a stupid thing, but a small crooked heart and the word "friend" seemed to touch something inside the man. His chest ached painfully and succumbing to an incomprehensible feeling, he pressed the button.

Friend

The word echoed through the room. The narrator hunched slightly, biting his lips until they bled, and abruptly stood up. We have to go back already, the story won't tell itself.

And he left. He went to his usual place. And no one but him will know that this word was uttered by Stanley's voice. Perhaps this time, he will wait to bring the office to its original appearance.

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