LOST IN SIN [english version]

2.MILAN

Luna

I sat in a nearly abandoned bar (den) and sipped cheap alcohol. There was semi-darkness and stench, but it was fine. I completely had no idea where I was. In some small town with a small number of people. There were a few guys sitting in the bar, one of whom was homeless. They were all half asleep and drinking liters of alcohol. I was sitting at the bar itself on an uncomfortable bar stool. Among the people sitting there was one young boy. About my age. He had red disheveled hair and a pale emaciated figure. It was obvious that he had not slept by his bruises under his eyes. He had been looking at me for a long while and I knew it. I watched him while he didn't even realize I was looking at him.
-another beer please- I said to the bartender and threw a few coins on the countertop. He immediately got down to pouring alcohol the moment the strange boy also approached the bar. He asked for the same thing. In the pocket of his sweatpants I noticed a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.
-could I have a cigarette,‖ I asked. It sounded strange because I wasn't used to asking someone if I could or couldn't have something. I usually took it myself (stealing) but he was different. Somehow inexplicably different. I don't know. The boy looked at me carefully then handed me a packet from which I took one out and put it in my mouth. He lit it for me, taking the cigarette himself.
-Can you smoke here?" he asked the bartender in a hoarse voice.
-Well, it doesn't say anywhere that it's not-so you can.
- You know, it seems to me that you also destroyed your life. Am I right?" asked the redhead who was standing next to me at the bar.
-mhm...Life sucks. I think it's a punishment.
-How many times have you tried to kill yourself? -You can tell at a glance from some people that someone has tried.
-six and you?-wow. a lot.
-I don't even know anymore.... Seven? No, nine? Fifteen? twelve...? Yes. Twelve.
-record.-he laughed bitterly Who saved you?"-he pierced me with his gaze.
-my friends. They are cool but they pry too much into other people's lives. They don't need to... But such are the people who don't have any problems and don't disassociate themselves from my lifestyle...-the latter part of my statement I said more to myself in thought.
-What kind of lifestyle do you have?" he asked curiously
-no... you know, illegal fighting, pathology, drugs and in general...Pathology. But you better not be interested in such a life or you'll be lost - I warned him, but probably in vain, because when he spoke up I probably had nothing to count on.
-I know, after all, my last fight was a month ago.... I've had enough...
-Ah yeah? Where did you fight?
-In Culver City...
-Ah, then I associate, you are Milan?-I started to connect the dots, that's the one....
-Yes, and you? - Oh how I wanted to see on his face this surprise....
-Luna-Nothing more was needed for him. He made big eyes and covered his mouth with his hand.
-See? How lucky are you?
-O fuck- he whistled....
-Don't tell anyone what I look like.... Now I'm going back to my place. See you at the fights.-I left the bar and headed to the train station. I got on some old, shabby train. Here I don't think anyone paid for a ticket, and some old guy even lit a cigarette. And that's how I found myself back in my town....