Owen turned out to be a rather weird guy. Well, not that weird, actually. “Unique” would be a better word.

He was a bit too friendly, open, and sociable. Also, he generated strange ideas, like a living cornucopia of bizarre. Decent person, all in all, but sometimes I wanted to smack him and ask: “The fuck, man? The fuck?!"

I mean he was hanging around the store on his actual day off. Who does that? Especially, if the owner is your dad. If I were him, I would not come at all. This is nepotism, corruption, and all that. But given the chance, most of us would do exactly that. I admit my flaws, for which there's a point in good karma. I’m not a very spiritual person, but I believe that is a thing.

Sitting at home bored Owen to death. At twenty-four, he was already married and even had children. What he didn’t have was anything in common with his wife. According to him, she threw tantrums, 24\7. Meanwhile, Owen’s enlightened soul wanted to delve into the depths of the unknown. Possessing an enormous thirst for new knowledge, he devoured all kinds of fringe data. He read Borges, Castaneda, Leary. Also, the interviews with our reptilian overlords. Oh, and an untold history of Genghis Khan Antarctica conquest.

Also, Owen knew and loved his booze. The two hobbies complemented each other well.

Eh, who am I to judge? While trying to sort out my own problems, I also read a lot of different things. And recently, I poked my head into a completely different world. It be like that sometimes, our life. Amazing and unpredictable. So is karma.

Our shift was drawing to a close. The stars aligned so on this hot Thursday, nobody wanted to buy a drill or screwdriver. There were only two of us in the hall. Owen went on and on about different mind-blowing concepts. I tried my best not to fall asleep right behind the counter.

“Look.” he spread his fingers. Now, they symbolized the multiverse or something. “Let's say that every time we make a choice, a new reality is born.”

“Let's”

I nodded.

“Then, we can imagine that all these realities and timelines exist, as it were, simultaneously. Depending on your decisions and choices, you move through them. This is the essence of "transsurfing”. If this finger.” he touched his forefinger. “Is a hopeless and unsuccessful future, then you can't even think about it. Otherwise, you are literally drawn to that same finger.”

“And if the realities are parallel, then how do you know that you travel through them? Maybe you are native to this shitty “current” place. Whatever. You look kind of gloomy today. Something happened?” I said, mentally pulling a plaque with Owen's name towards myself. It snapped like a rubber band, then came back in place. There was no better entertainment in this kingdom of boredom than to knock a partner off his train of thought. “You talk about bad futures and worst timelines all day.”

“Nah. Business as usual.”

“Your wife?”

“Don’t want to talk about her.”

“Got into some kind of stupid fight again?”

“Something like that.” Owen let out a sigh so despaired and exhausted, the air in the room became few degrees colder. “I envy you, Arthur. You are a lucky man. Can do what you want and no one will steal your thunder.”

Yeah, that.

Alice is weirdly squeamish. She yells at me when I won’t take off my shoes at home. Even mom never cared about that! But she is not my wife, so we can actually talk about things and resolve them peacefully. Everyone knows, once you’re married talking is off the table.

“More like, I can’t actually decide where I want to be. After moving out, I’ve traveled the country on foot. Don't even ask why. I have no idea.”

Owen agreed. “I wish I could travel somewhere on foot right now.”

“It’s not like you married her at gunpoint. Or did you?”

“No, it’s just… It was different back then, ok? Now she mostly pisses me off, but I still don’t regret it. See what I mean?”

“What about children?”

“They have nothing to do with this. Those guys are their own can of worms in on itself.”

What an interesting point of view.

“It feels like she doesn't give me enough room. This is how it happens; some great idea comes to mind. You are burning with creative possibilities and sparks. And then you hear that screech from the other room, - he began to speak in a deliberately annoying voice. - “Ya didn’t put away the dishes again, ya fuck! You eat like a pig, and then don’t even fucking wash them, yadda yadda!”

I couldn't help but grin.

“And that's it! As if a bucket of ice water poured over your head. Like a post-nut clarity without the actual fun part. You clearly understand now that your idea is trash, and so are you. Well, how can a person live in such an atmosphere and remain sane?

“Was it too hard to deal with the dishes?”

Behold, a man who puts imaginary sticks into wheels of his own metaphysical bike.

“Well, no. But that’s not the point. It’s about priorities, and how you approach this.” Owen jumped as if divine revelation and angelic grace descended on him at the same time. “Listen, I know one place nearby. Are you a party person?”

I shrugged.

“As much as anyone, I guess.”

“Awesome! Come on, let’s close the shop. It’s not like anyone will come in the last twenty minutes. And if they are, well… Tough.”

…

It was a long night.

We got bored of the first bar and went on a binge. Not that all others were much better. Some bald guy tried to juggle expensive bottles but smashed them on the floor instead. After that show, I was ready to call it a day. But it was not meant to be. As a result, the adventurous road brought us to the Big B. The Barge.

Inside this den was a spacious hall filled with wooden tables and benches. On the left - the bar itself, with a plump, forever displeased bartender. On the right was an exit to the side, where a bunch of smokers dumped ash into the coastal waters. You can probably imagine what kind of people The Barge attracted. One of them, defeated either in a bar fight or by tequila was lying on those stone slabs.

“Why did we come here of all places?” I asked.

Owen was staring at the stars above with a sad look on his face.

“Who knows? Guess, I felt nostalgic, or something.”

“Was this the place of your bachelor party?”

“Kinda. I met her here.”

It became clear to me that Owen's wife (not even once he called her by name) was a very sophisticated lady. Seriously, what did he expect when he married her? Evening poetry readings?

I patted him on the shoulder.

“You’re being too hard on yourself. That's life. You waste energy trying to deal with little things, and that's why you burn out. It's not even about your wife.”

“Are you some kind of fucking sage?”

“Yes. That’s my diagnosis.”

A small rectangle blinked directly above his head. A Card. It seems that he did not understand anything at all from what I told him, but we became closer. My words reached his heart.

Owen was drunk enough to either pass out or dance furiously. Or start a monologue. “Back at the uni, I wanted to be a stand-up comedian.”

What a twist.

“Stand-up...?”

“Right. I think I still have a talent for that. Just get me on stage, and it’s going to be fireworks all the way till tomorrow.”

“Like one of those SNL guys?”

“Fuck SNL! And fuck you! It’s time for local talents! Where have you been for the last ten years, living under a rock?”

“Well, that farm was pretty remote.” I chuckled.

“Under the rock it is. Listen, all the decent guys are on small stages in small towns, like here. Everything on TV is shit nowadays.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Except Galko. She is hilarious and merciless. Real funny and inspirational, even though she’s, you know, a gal.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“Oh! Listen, I have some jokes prepared!

“Another time, maybe? I think you should save them for your debut.”

Owen jerked his head proudly and almost fell off the bench.

“Steady, steady.” I kept him from falling in a puddle on the floor. “You know, this is the land of possibilities. If you want to, you can be hilarious and merciless. The world is your stage.”

He should tone down that casual sexism a bit, though.

Owen’s made a weird face.

“I'm scaring myself. Eh, Arthurrrrr…“ he slurred. “You see, y’see, I’m, like, on fire…! I burn like a candle, for everyone! And nobody cares!

“Ugh. Yeah, that’s enough for today, pal.”

He kept mumbling.

”One day I will burn out, and disappear… Will anybody notice?”

“Yeah, you think too much. For your own good, stop dwelling on whatever weird shit is in your head right now, and relax.”

I'm not a psychologist. I have no diploma. But I’ve had enough therapeutic sessions. So, I can parrot whatever vanilla advice they kept giving me.

“You should skip work tomorrow. Tell your wife to take the day off too. Take her somewhere. Be yourself and don’t “burn” for one day. Take it easy. Know what I mean?”

He looked at me with dull eyes. The card over his head grew larger and then spun in a frantic dance.

A Card was Unlocked: The Moon

“You wander blindly into the future. Stumbling at every step. Tormented by the futility of your fate and the meaninglessness of existence. You wander in the twilight of your soul, not finding the way, and not knowing, in fact, where you are going. At this time of day, your deepest instincts awaken, many of which are even unknown to you. You have come to the knowledge of the Truth, but you are afraid to cross its threshold. "

This card gives bonuses to the player's stealth, illusion, and eloquence.

Bond level: 1

Creatures and players whose level does not exceed the agent's level (+3) do not see the agent's information plaque. Standard mortal info is displayed for them.

Perfect. I got something useful from all this whining. Now, I blend with the crowd, and no one will notice my actual power level. Unless, of course, our difference is bigger than four.

“Know what? I'm going to the restroom now, and then we’ll call a taxi. Sit here for a bit.”

He grunted something. Seems like we’re on the same page.

By the way, restrooms in this place should be banned by UN resolution. They are that bad.

When I came back from that abode of biological horrors, I saw something annoying. To be frank, I kind of expected it deep down.

Some thug with a huge forehead was holding Owen by the collar and demanded something from him. The thug's friends surrounded them on both sides, intending to join the conversation.

The situation itself was not good. But, besides that, there was one thing that complicated everything. One of these guys, who looked the most like a caveman, was of the second level. He was a player like me.