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thriller - 2nd part:

The white-light pink-purple wallpaper was surprisingly designed in style. Oriental carpet encouraged to walk barefoot. Dark, heavy curtains were covering the midday's brightness - even if ladies tried to deal against it, they couldn't expose the windows. Despite numerous lamps turned on, the apartment remained dark in expression. The most pleasantly charming part was the cherry-tree made wardrobe: when opened, not only was giving the soft, calming light, but also was offering the exclusive alcohols, counted in the room's price.

Nathaliia jumped on a big, comfortable bed and looked sadly at the luggage. Re-packing was definitely something she hated with a passion, and she had rather thrown everything on the floor, to pick up and use things when needed. Gulzhan afforded a glass of brandy. They had nothing to talk about. The atmosphere in such a depressive room could have been only thick. The shouts from behind the wall embittered it even more:

- I swear I'll kill you! - announce the hysterical, feminine voice.
- No you f-o-k-i-n-g won't! - male voice answered in self defence.
- I will, of course I will - the woman was boarderlining bursting out with tears. - How can we make a living now???
- I'll put all the money we still have to back Chokejean over Boredo! This bet is SAFE, I swear, Nicole...!
- You are gambling for my father's money! Where did I have my eyes when I was getting married with you??? - Nicole cried in helplessness.
- Nikki... meine Liebe... - her husband tried to speak as sweetly as he could. Though needed a few thousand Euro to place a bet on a tennis match between Sebastien Chokejean and Tommy Boredo.
- Don't speak to me in this horrible language! I married a Czech guy in a hope he wouldn't talk German to me! You Czechs hate German language as we beat you badly at football! - suddenly the wife got enlightened - Oh! You want money from me! No way! Go on the street and beg for it, maybe someone can help you!

Nathaliia and Gulzhan were looking at each other with the upgrowing disguist about what could have been heard. After several attempts of giving out any sound, finally the girl muttered:
- Mom... I feel like sightseeing...
- Okay, go out. I'll try to switch this room - Gulzhan finished her brandy.

Nathii put on the black leather coat with fur trimming and went straight to the elevator. Was chased by a blonde supermodel, who asked to not to close the door. The supermodel was crying, and it was obvious she stayed at 726. "So beautiful people, and they have problems just like us. Blah, how sad" - Nathaliia thought to herself. She was a famous egocentric, never cared about the other people if couldn't have a benefit from it. Was raised by a rich, single mother, who spoiled her, and who was in control by that sarcastic teen. She could never throw any change to a poorman on the street. She couldn't care less about death and emotion. Seemed fed up and annoyed with everything she came along, and that dared to disturb her own world of fantasy thoughts. The brill intelligence can be either connected with high sensitivity or immunity from pain. This little Polish manipulative hag was definitely the second case. But there was something in Nicole's situation, that touched her. German beauty looked like brought to the edge.
- Tell your husband to stay away from backing Chokesjean today - Nathii whispered, turning her head back, as if she was ashamed she wanted to help somebody. That bet wasn't as safe as Nicole's husband predicted.
The supermodel looked at the girl, like completely not understanding the given hint. She tried to soak up the blackened tears with a tissue and save the rests of mascara. Finally she stepped out of the lift and went in an unknown direction.

Nathaliia travelled by subway, saw different interesting places in Sweden's capital city, and finally decided to come back, as she felt hungry, and also hoped her mother had a lot of time to manage to close all the organization things, especially to take all the bags to another room. She wouldn't want to be bothered about it herself.
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