Escape... What was he thinking? Daniel offered a wry smile as he shook water from his hands. He reached for a paper towel, patting down his face and hands, raking his fingers through his slightly wet hair, and assessed his appearance in the mirror. A subtle redness tinted his skin, and his eyes sparkled a bit too brightly, but he looked presentable. The nagging mood swings needed addressing; otherwise, they'd wear him down. Contemplating the necessity of appropriate antidepressants and neuroleptics, Daniel wondered how to get them without raising Alexander's suspicions. With a resigned sigh, he tossed the crumpled paper into the bin, it opened wide, quickly snapped shut, and devoured the handout— if only life were that straightforward and mechanical.

Alexander was conspicuously absent, hinting that perhaps someone had pulled him aside or he'd grown impatient and left. Daniel felt a surge of relief, hoping the potential confrontation might be delayed or sidestepped entirely. As expected, Daria gave him a frosty glare. Choosing to postpone any discussion with her, Daniel took his seat. Immersing himself in research felt more constructive than catering to fragile egos.

This time, he scoured social networks searching for family and partners. Even seemingly insignificant information can prove valuable. Daniel knew Pavel, Nikita, and Mikhail were married, and Igor was in a relationship. He picked up on these details during team dinners and stored them in his memory. After a brief pause, Daniel decided to set aside Murad and Nikolai for now, especially since he hadn't memorized their surnames— his own oversight, he thought.

His search hit an immediate obstacle with Pavel; there was no trace of him on any social network, at least not under his real name, which was quite expected for a high-level consultant. Daniel would need to put in extra effort to find information about Pavel's marital status and possibly his wife's accounts, given Pavel's digital invisibility.

On the other hand, Nikita was more accessible. He had active accounts on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and LinkedIn for professional purposes. Moreover, due to his carefree nature on Facebook Nikita had tagged his wife, Irina Dalina, in his profile description. Daniel noted down the links to both their accounts, skimmed through their posts quickly, and moved on.

Mikhail posed a more significant challenge. He was only on Instagram, and his profile was private. Daniel pondered his approach - should he message him from his personal account or use a fake one? Daniel looked at the box with his new phone and scolded himself for not thinking staight. He retrieved the phone and was initially pleased when the screen lit up at his touch. However, his enthusiasm waned when he found himself unfamiliar with the Goldvish's interface. Why had Alexander burdened him with such a luxury device? A familiar iPhone would have been more practical. Daniel spent valuable time navigating the new interface and tinkering with the Google settings to transfer his contacts.

Five minutes later, he scrolled through his contacts, deliberating on whom to reach out to first, eventually settling on Nikita. Based on his gut feeling, Nikita was straightforward and easy to get along with, or as they'd say in the zone, "no shit kinda guy." Mikhail was undoubtedly trustworthy and would be an ideal candidate for the first approach, but he was currently in Argentina. Daniel wanted to meet face-to-face, to confront him and ask direct questions. Gearing up for the conversation, he approached Daria, who was typing with such fervor it looked like she was in a typing competition.

"Daria, is there a place we can talk other than the conference room?" he asked.

She didn't look up but replied, "There's a small meeting room at the end of the corridor. Check Outlook to see if it's free."

Daniel checked Outlook; it was available.

Nikita picked up promptly but greeted him with a reserved tone, seemingly expecting another sales pitch.

"Go ahead," Nikita prompted.

"Hey, Nikita. It's Daniel," Daniel began, pausing to understand Nikita's reaction from the ensuing silence.

"Hey," Nikita replied, sounding uncertain. "You... you got released?"

"Yeah," Daniel sighed with relief. "The charges were dropped, but things got complicated. It's a long story. Can we grab coffee sometime?"

"Um..." Nikita hesitated, seeming reluctant. Seeing this, Daniel added with urgency, "Please, Nikita. I was framed and I need information. I'm desperate to know who's behind those photos."

"It wasn't me, I swear," Nikita quickly asserted. "Alright, how about Friday at six in the evening? I'll be free from work by then. Let's meet somewhere central but not too crowded."

"Sure, wherever you pick works for me."

"I'll text you the details on where and when. I've got to go. Glad to hear your case got dropped; you never seemed like a junkie. Talk later?" The tone made it sound like a question, to which Daniel promptly replied.

"Thanks. Definitely, see you later."

Now, he just needed to slip out of the office early on the designated day before Alexander caught wind of his plans and meet up with Nikita. After that, now that he was out of the office, he'd head to Powerplace with some cash, smooth-talk the administrator, and track down that waiter. Daniel felt a wave of relief wash over him; he was making progress. It was only a matter of time before the person responsible was identified.

Daniel enjoyed a solitary lunch in the basement cafeteria, appreciating the respite from Alexander's incessant pressure. It seemed Alexander had chosen to give him some space, a relief for which Daniel was truly thankful. After lunch, Daria approached him, still tense but noticeably less confrontational.

"I've sent you the Medialogy and BrandAnalytics reports along with my analysis attached. Please review them. Let me know if you have any questions," she said, concluding her gesture of goodwill and returning to her computer screen.

"Thanks," Daniel responded, opening his email to download the reports. He dove into the data with renewed enthusiasm. Even this minor task invigorated him after a prolonged lull. It prompted him to explore unfamiliar terms, conduct online searches, and scrutinize the numbers – his beloved statistics. A previously unfamiliar realm was unfolding before him. A new and unfamiliar landscape was unfolding before him, and it was imperative for him to grasp and apply these intricacies promptly.

An hour later, Daria, looking somewhat reluctant, granted him access to both systems. Daniel delved into them, only to find that the parsers were flawed, the semantic core was underdeveloped, and most critically, the reports were largely inconsequential over a short time frame. The parsers needed refinement, the search parameters had to be expanded geographically, and the agency needed to be tasked with addressing every negative brand mention within a day. Understandably, the volume of negative mentions was minimal. Daniel sighed, contemplating the vastness of Starcom Oil or even the media company under the Bystritsky umbrella. Such companies had ample data to analyze.

When he told all this to Daria, she was momentarily speechless, as if she were staring at Balaam's donkey when it began to speak.

"Well, that's interesting," she finally responded. "Honestly, I'm not as well-versed in monitoring systems; my expertise lies more in advertising and content management. Have you had experience with them before?"

"No, but I've applied similar analytical principles from my consulting background," Daniel replied, relishing the newfound respect reflected in her eyes before modestly returning his attention to the screen. "If you're comfortable with the changes, I'll proceed with implementing them."

"I'll take another look at the semantic core, but overall, I'm in favor of the proposed changes," Daria responded, her gaze fixed on the report he had sent her.

"Even though our primary objective isn't to attract potential partners, I believe it's still worth covering and segmenting the audience into clients and startups. Sure, there might be some irrelevant data, but I can sift through it using the MVP," Daniel mused aloud, then paused. "What are your thoughts?"

"If you can sell this plan to Alexander, then I'm on board," Daria said, her tone growing more somber as she tapped forcefully on her keyboard. Daniel felt the tension and decided to address it directly.

"What's bothering you?" he asked.

"Let's be frank, Daniel," Daria leaned back in her chair to better meet his gaze. "I took this job for a specific reason - I was offered the director's position, an opportunity too good to pass up. I had my suspicions, of course. Why the sudden promotion? Why jump into an industry that's not particularly appealing to marketers? But the title of director carries weight; it could open doors for me elsewhere in just a couple of years. For the first two weeks, I felt completely overlooked by Alexander. All his smiles and chivalrous gestures meant nothing.

Then you came along - or rather, things started changing. First, they revamped the entire office, replacing even my furniture, leaving only this chair. Then came the lavish additions," she gestured irritably at the Jura coffee machine, the sleek Smeg mini-fridge, and the Airgle air purifier with an integrated humidifier. "And finally, you arrived. A former consultant without direct marketing experience, yet you're now the marketing consultant. It feels like you're the prince in disguise, dressed in expensive clothing. From the outset, you're proposing improvements, all while insisting you're not after my job. It's as if this whole setup, including me, was orchestrated just for you, leaving me as a mere token. Something doesn't add up, do you understand?"

"I understand," Daniel responded calmly. "You'll need to trust me. There's no alternative. I can't divulge more about my intentions."

"Is it 'can't' or 'won't'?" Daria eyed him intently.

"A bit of both," Daniel replied succinctly. "So, either come to terms with the situation or challenge it on your own. I can't help you further."

"Got it," Daria retreated abruptly, taking refuge behind her monitor. Daniel sighed. He could empathize with her frustration, but sympathy was a stretch - after all, who would sympathize with him, the outsider?

They continued working in silence until the end of the day. With no pressing tasks at hand, Daniel found himself scrolling through social media, meticulously examining each Ershova profile, and searching for mentions of her husband, Mikhail. He quickly located Igor Evseev and his girlfriend, and even added Murad and Nikolai to his research, who had profiles on LinkedIn as Arc employees. He didn't bother looking for Ivanov's wife - it would have been like searching for a Mrs. Smith in America. The atmosphere was increasingly tense, and Daria's audibly irritated sniffling did little to lighten the mood.

When the content Alexander breezed into their office, both greeted him with tense expressions.

"How was your day?" Alexander, sensing the strained atmosphere, remained silent until they reached his car.

"Fine, thanks. How was yours?" Daniel responded curtly, looking outside the window.

"It was good," Alexander replied softly, moving closer to give him a gentle hug. "I upset you today, and I truly didn't mean to."

"Accepted," Daniel responded, pulling away. "I could have gone to Ksenia myself; you didn't need to accompany me."

"You could have, but I wanted to be there for you, like your most loyal bodyguard," Alexander said with a soft chuckle, pulling him back gently to face him. "I don't like it when you're upset with me. What can I do to make it up to you?"

"Just let me be alone tonight," Daniel replied instantly, and the smile faded from Alexander's face. "You're the one who gets upset when my smile isn't convincing enough, so why force it tonight?"

"You always seem eager to push me away, don't you?" Alexander sighed, not waiting for a response. "Fine, I'll just drive you to the clinic, and then I'll leave you be. If you want to vent your frustrations alone, be my guest. But we'll head home together tomorrow," he added with a hint of resignation and murmured.

Farewell then, my dear one, farewell -

O sweet one, held in my heart.

Parting predestined, yet still

Future promises us a new start.

Farewell, now my dear one - no handholds, no words,

No grieving, no sorrowing frown -

To die is not new in this world

But to live brings no newer crown.*

"Your habit to weave poems into our conversations catches me off guard sometimes," Daniel said, sinking back into the seat. What had started as an evening that promised intensity both mentally and physically had taken a gentler turn. "Thanks for not pushing it, Sasha."

"Say it again," Alexander whispered, caressing Daniel's cheek. "Please."

"Thanks," Daniel echoed, casting a puzzled glance at him.

"My name," Alexander urged.

"Sasha, Sasha, Sasha," Daniel replied, his smile faint as he noticed the trembling in Alexander's green eyes. It struck him then that he had been underestimating his influence over Alexander, failing to leverage it to his advantage. Despite his self-contempt, Daniel found himself repeating, "Sa-asha, Sa-asha, Sa-asha, Sa-asha."

With a growl, Alexander pulled him close, capturing his smiling lips in a passionate kiss and pressing him down onto the seat. Daniel surrendered himself fully, his responses slow and detached, his gaze drifting blankly to the car's ceiling. There was no emotional connection, no misplaced tenderness, and that suited him just fine.

*Sergey Esenin