Witch 8

Max approached the door of his apartment, taking his key out of his pocket on the way. Then he heard someone following him.
-Max.
He turned around. Marika stood before him.
-Marika...Hello. What are you doing here?
-That's it, I can't take this anymore.
-What are you talking about?
-You're always having fun with your girlfriend, and you've completely forgotten about me.
-What are you saying... - said Max, confused. -I've always valued your friendship.
-What am I saying? You haven't even called me lately.
-I've been...busy.
Marika caught her breath.
-Are you letting me in? -she asked.
-Yes, of course.
Max opened the door and let Marika in. He walked in himself.
Marika looked around, still standing by the door.
-I don't understand you,-Max said, closing the door,-one moment you're letting me be with her, and then you're against it again...
-I was wrong. I'm warning you not to connect with her. It will end badly.
Max put the keys on the nightstand and turned to Marika.
-It's fine.
-Max...
-Look at me. I'm fine.
-Max, please...
Max looked at her carefully and shook his head.
-You'd be happy for someone else.
-If she were a decent girl, would I really be against it? I'd be friends with her!
They walked into the kitchen.
-I... for the first time in my life... am happy! Girls never paid attention to me, and you want to ruin everything?
-I remember you saying that if I fell in love with a scoundrel, you'd stop it. I'm doing the same thing now.
-I was wrong. Now I'm saying,be with whomever you want, as long as you're happy.
-That's not friendship.
-What is friendship?
-Friendship isn't always pleasant, Max. Sometimes a friend should say unpleasant things to your face, but the truth. A friend isn't a servant, someone who only compliments you and entertains you.
-Ah... I get it...
-What?
-You're just jealous that I have a relationship and you don't. Perhaps you don't even realize your dependence; you think you want to help your friend, but you're just subconsciously thinking about it.
-What are you talking about?
They left the kitchen and went into the living room. Then Marika saw something that froze her in place.
-What's this?- she asked.
-Do you like it?"
A large canvas stood before them. On it was a painting. An angel bowed before the demonic one and held out flowers to her.
-You're dead, Max...-Marika almost whispered.
-I told you I go to art classes. Look... I drew this. I'm not much of an artist, of course. But how could I,-Max explained.
-Don't you understand who you're dealing with? She's rich and spoiled...
-You don't necessarily have to go through the motions to be a good person.
-You know a rich girl wouldn't look at a poor guy. You know, you need her for another purpose.
-For what purpose?
-To break you.
-Why would she want that?
-I don't understand her logic either. But it's true.
-There have been cases where rich girls have chosen poor guys.
-Yes, they were alpha males. But you, forgive me, don't look like that.
Max got angry.
-Tell me straight: Why don't you like her?-Max said.
-Because she's a bitch and a nasty thing!
Max walked to the apartment exit and threw open his door.
-Get out of here!
-What?!
-Get out!
Marika's eyes filled with tears. Max looked at her sternly.
Marika shook her head and headed for the exit. She left, and Max closed the door. He was angry with her, but at the same time, he felt like he'd done something wrong.
His gaze fell on the desk drawer. For some reason, he remembered the gun in there. Experienced people say that if there's a gun in the house, it's bound to go off.
The gun lay in the drawer, biding its time.