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Mr. Fickelgruber. A man who has long occupied a high position in the business world, and it’s great, even if he finally fits into the “chocolate cartel”. He is tall, dressed in the latest fashion in suits specially made to order by a tailor, he is charismatic, handsome, and ladies often whisper to each other when they see such an enviable man on the street and wonder: who will become his lucky chosen one? Well, let's put this gossip aside, right? And many also know that he hates mentioning the poor. They irritate him literally to the point of nausea. This seems strange to some, like Herold, but he always tried to refrain from asking questions on this topic. In the end, what difference does it make who has what kind of a bee in theirs bonnet?
Arthur understood that such a reaction didn’t appear out of thin air, but on the whole he just didn’t care. Some townspeople, who somehow knew about this “strangeness” of his, believed that he was too arrogant with his business and the money with which he was surrounded, and that was why he was furious. But Felix, when he was child, sees his mother crying bitterly. This already happened, it seems, two years ago, just when his younger brother had just recently been born, then his father’s business went bankrupt, and the whole family was left without a means of living. Of course, father and mother found work, although the latter had never done anything like that, since she came from a noble family. They sold the house and everything in it, and now... Mom is crying. Later, Felix learns about an accident with his father, who, to their great sorrow, deprived the Fickelgruber family of its head. There was enough money for a very simple funeral, and a wooden cross that had become lopsided over time. Felix will never forget everything that happened at this time. Especially one day, when he, still a child, was sitting in the driest corner of the room, in the cheapest apartment, with a thin wooden roof, through which raindrops were now pouring with a roar, and the roars of thunder and the whistle of the wind were heard even louder. The top floor, and held his brother in his arms. Felix looked at him and thought that he was thin and fragile, like a porcelain figurine, the collection of which his mother once kept. Only those figurines were dressed in beautiful clothes, smiling, and a pink blush played on their cheeks. And the little boy in his arms was skinny, pale, and in recent days too weak, for there was almost no food at home. He didn’t have enough strength even for the usual crying for children of his age; with every sound from outside, he simply pressed himself closer and closer to him, and soon he closed his eyes.
- Good night... - Felix said almost in a whisper and kissed his brother on the forehead. After some time, he realizes the terrible truth: his brother stopped breathing right in his arms. And a new grave soon appeared in the cemetery, with a completely short, two-year period of dates on it, this time even without a cross. Every day from that terrible apartment, from those dark, unremittingly nightmarish days, is burned into Felix’s memory with an eternal mark, traces of which are still visible to this day. He doesn’t despise or hate the poor, he hates his own life, which once sank to the very bottom, of which he had to be a hostage. But let's get back to Mr.Fickelgruber and his pride. He is proud of his education, current status in society, business, and natural prudence and cunning, which are excellent in conducting business. He is also proud of his love of high art and fashion, both of which he is simply excellent at.
Fickelgruber was able to build and maintain the image of an ideal person, but do you think he really is? And Felix once again looks at himself, through an antique mirror, bought at some auction, once almost damaged by the owner’s desire to hit his reflection with all his might. Fortunately, everything worked out, but only for the mirror. For the owner, instead of striking, bit his own wrist with force. It was painful, he had to wear a long sleeve shirt for several days, despite the warm weather, and the bright sun still not setting behind the clouds. Let's return to the bathroom, where our Felix can barely stand on his feet with his bangs falling on his forehead, with wet eyelashes that seem to have become heavy, with red eyes, either from lack of sleep, or from tears, and bluish circles, and intertwined veins around them. In recent days, his vision had become darker more and more often, and Felix thought that at some point it would end in a hungry faint. But the goal justifies even such sacrifices. Sickly pale skin stretches over his protruding ribs, and the thought flashes through his head that there are just a few more days left, and then he will definitely become quite handsome. At least in some aspect, he will become similar to that deceitful and ideal mask that he was wearing. Perhaps then he will know at least a little happiness? The main thing is to survive until this moment, because the servants, on his own orders, brought only a cup of strong coffee in the morning, and water thereafter. He even had to miss meetings of the court several times, because they were more like dinner parties, and Felix would never forgive himself for attending something like that. This was not the first time he was not satisfied with his own appearance. It’s not that the feeling of self-loathing ever went away, but it manifested itself especially clearly when he was just starting his career as a chocolatier... From the noise of thoughts interrupting each other, he was pulled out by a knock on the door and a voice calmly saying:
- Good morning, sir. Your coffee is ready. - Felix chuckled quietly and muttered under his breath,
- Well, to whom is good, and to whom… - at that moment he straightened his hair with his hand, threw on a velor robe, which had previously been hanging on a hook in the bathroom, and looked at himself in the mirror for the last time. Hmm, he looked, of course, so-so, as you might have guessed. Not wanting to be here anymore, the man left the room.
- Come in.
A servant, dressed in his usual uniform, consisting of a black, strict vest and a snow-white shirt, entered the bedroom, holding a tray in his hand, on which stood a small, white, porcelain saucer and the same neat and small cup, the hot contents of which immediately filled the room with its aroma. Felix Fickelgruber saw him and raised the corners of his lips a little. Sincerely or not, it's up to you to decide. In general, Felix treated his subordinates differently than his colleagues. More... Kinder and more humane or something? The saucer and cup were carefully placed on the table that stood near the bed.
- Excuse me sir, can I ask you a few... Indiscreet question? — the newcomer timidly asked Felix.
- Ask, but don’t expect an answer from me. — Fickelgruber answered, raising his eyebrows in some amazement and grunting,
- My colleagues and I noticed some unusual behavior in you... First you ordered to change your menu, then you completely refused any food... So, you only drink coffee. - the gaze of the speaker’s blue eyes dropped to the floor, it was clear that he was worried, although his voice sounded confident - Also, the recent sewing of your favorite jacket according to new standards... Perhaps this is not our business as servants, but we are all worried about you. I, who served you faithfully, I’m concerned about you. How a person talks about a person. Is it true. - With each phrase, Felix's expression changed more and more.
Such overly flattering feelings towards his person were something completely unexpected. He didn't know exactly how to react. But what is the message of all this speech?
- You’ve started to look... - he hesitated, coughed and continued.- Let’s just say, not exactly great. One word of yours, one wish and we will prepare for you everything your soul desires! Perhaps you would like some fruit? Or we can order something from your favorite restaurant. We... I just want to help you. - He seemed to have become bolder, but Felix, from the words about food, shifted his eyebrows on the bridge of his nose - This could end badly and...
- Stop. - Fickelgruber interrupted, not wanting to listen to this tirade for another second. The servant, however, visibly turned white with fear; You never know, - he said too much and angered the master. They'll fire you to hell, yes, they'll definitely kick you out of here for talking like that, oh, you shouldn't have spoken about it so harshly, oh, you shouldn't have...
Felix exhaled and continued in a surprisingly gentle tone. Still, he was touched.
- First of all, don’t talk about food and the like. I can handle that myself. Second, it’s not worth all this unnecessary worry - and there was a voice in my head, no, screaming, asking why they all care - I’m fine. Is it true. And... I'm a little touched by your words, but don't worry about me. And don't let others worry either. Just...- here Fickelgruber’s tone became harsher and ruder.- Just do your job and that’s it. I don't demand more from you. It's not that hard, am I right? Now leave me alone for a while.
The servant looked at him with eyes full of regret for his master and misunderstanding. But still he nodded briefly.
-Yes, sir. I understood you. - and left the room, holding the tray in his hands and whispering something quietly under his breath. As soon as the door slammed, Felix fell onto the bed, clutching his face with his hands. Coffee, from just one glance at it, seemed to him a disgusting slurry; the desire to cheer up in the morning from this drink disappeared, leaving not a trace. My head was torn from the inside. Shit! The result, haha, is clearly visible. Or rather, already on the face... They noticed... Is everything that bad? Or is it simply because they are closer than all the other people around, and because they already know all his habits? Damn, you should never let someone too close to you, I knew it, I knew it! What if someone besides them finds out?.. No, no, no! God forbid someone who is too talkative tells someone else who is just as talkative, and that’s how rumors are born. This was just not enough... Stop though. No, they won’t... There have been worse cases, but it remained a secret. And since that time he has not recruited new servants. So everything is fine. I don't care what this bunch of idiots think about him, it will remain within the walls of his house. The reputation is unshakable. You can be calm, right? Felix exhaled heavily and rubbed the bridge of his nose. God, how tired he is of all this. First of all, from myself. Yesterday's conversation with Arthur came to mind. The memories and the conversation itself made me feel disgusted and even sick. It must be said that notes of expensive, citrus-woody perfume reigned in the air from Fickelgruber. Even in this seemingly unimportant aspect, he was at his best. Now his perfume increasingly began to be interrupted by the pungent smell of tobacco and smoke. And his jacket pocket was now filled with a pack of thin, one might say, ladies' cigarettes, and a personalized, branded gasoline lighter. Inhale. Acrid, bitter and disgusting smoke fills the lungs, and the thought flashes through his head that hunger is gradually disappearing. Felix, who was then feeling especially anxious and even nervous, stood on the street, in one of the inconspicuous alleys and smoked, feeling like some kind of young boy who would be in trouble if his parents found out about this.
Laughter, and that's all he did! But he didn’t want anyone, especially one of his colleagues, to find out about his recently acquired habit. And he didn’t want to smoke in public, for reasons unknown even to himself. Somewhere nearby there were quick steps towards him and a quiet, impudent laugh. Felix turned around and, to his disappointment, saw a painfully familiar silhouette dressed in a blue suit. Fickelgruber only managed to squeeze the cigarette in his fingers, purse his lips in displeasure and knit his eyebrows. Only he was missing here. - Felix, I must tell you, felt a mixture of contempt and well-hidden fear when he was next to Arthur. He seemed to him and, in principle, was a real cruel sadist, ready to go over his head, no matter how far his goal was. She will justify all actions, at least in the eyes of Slugworth for sure. And the story with his already dead brother, told by him, as if by chance, with a wide smile on his face, did not make the image of Arthur better in Felix’s eyes. Rather, it worsened and further convinced him of the complete cruelty and inhumanity of the cartel leader.
- How long?..
Arthur squinted, stretching his trademark semblance of a smile across his face.
- What exactly? - still irritated, Felix answered the question with a question
- I’m talking about this cigarette in your hand. I haven't noticed this with you before.
- So now you will. - the irritation, already pouring over the edge, was quickly hidden by the translated topic of conversation - Did you want something?
- Talk to an old friend. - Felix almost laughed. “Friend” is too strong word! - There is a feeling that you have changed somehow lately.
- I'm sure it seems to you. -You missed the cortel meetings. Four times in a row. I don’t know what your actual business was there - he took two confident steps forward and found himself quite close to Felix, almost pressing him into the wall of the house. The unextinguished cigarette fell out of his hand. Slugworth's voice became deeper, his tempo slowed, and he stretched out each word like a chocolate candy on his tongue. It seemed that he was about to grab him by the lapels of his jacket and begin to shake him in rage, like a lifeless doll, which, in view of its current insanely weakened state and position in the hierarchy, would not be able to answer. The interlocutor suddenly felt uneasy.
- You know, we don’t do things like that, Felix. You know, you can continue alone, no one is holding you here, but remember - either you are with us, or...
-Is that all? - Fickelgruber asked a little mockingly, which definitely angered him. It serves him right. -Arthur, it was just a couple of meetings, don’t be so paranoid. And besides, I had very good reasons - having met with a gaze full of quiet, burning hatred due to the lack, as it seemed to Slugworth, of due respect, he continued, as if making excuses, but not too sincerely - but next time I’ll come. That's for sure.
A smile appeared on Arthur's face again, to this times even seemed a little more sincere. He stepped back.
- Nice.
Felix, lying on the bed and remembering his small moment of triumph of unheard-of audacity, realized that he really could get into trouble because of all this. But how pleasant it was to respond to the threats that for some reason appeared in Arthur towards those around him more and more often. Felix smiled and his gaze fell on the table where his coffee was still standing. Suddenly, in the sunlight, he saw an object lying nearby. The man stood up, took a few steps and, taking this small object, realized that it was a small box in green wrapping paper. How cute, and what's there? He opened the edge of the paper, peeled off the wrapper and found in his hand a small homemade chocolate candy with multi-colored sprinkles on top. The gift came with a small handwritten note, written in beautiful, neat handwriting:
“I hope you like it. Don’t be upset and smile :) “
He hadn’t received such sincere gifts just like that for so long... And Felix, without noticing it, smiled a little stupidly, as the note said.
This time for real. With this, my story about Felix Fickelgruber comes to an end. And something tells me that soon his life and he himself will begin to change. For the better, of course.