Reflection

Schadenfreude offers the purest joy, untainted by envy, found only in rejoicing at others' misfortunes.

Reflection

The green sponge glided across the smooth, ebony tabletop — or at least it had been a smooth, ebony tabletop before yesterday's party, now it was covered in all sorts of grime and goo.

If you were lucky, all you had to clean up was the spilled remnants of various spirits or some leftover food — if not, it was someone's dinner from last night.

Around, around, scrub, scrub — I'd been doing this for about ten minutes, but it didn't seem to be getting any better. It wasn't the easiest job, especially as there were inches of unrecognizable material on the tabletop that I'd been struggling with needlessly (?) for a while.

Now, I was even grateful for the yellow rubber gloves that Hajnal threw at me with a pink apron when I arrived.

Last night's party must have been very naughty, and the staff certainly took the brunt of it — which included me and the new guy.

Oh, yes, I haven't told you. So, I called Hajnal to hire me again because I needed the money for books — since we planned to go back to school.

First, she told me to fuck off and called me all types of names. Can I help it if trouble always finds me? Not that I'm looking for it, thank you very much, but anyway, that's not what I was getting at. So, having decided that I will work for Hajnal again, I've listed the arguments for my suitability (highlighting the fact that I was perfect).

Employers are almost fighting for me! — at this point, I telepathically felt Hajnal rolling her eyes. In fact, I am perfectly capable of doing any job, as I am a quick learner and not picky. (Yes, I do need the money) — another eye roll from my boss.

Plus, I'm a magnet for business with my charming smile — now, she couldn't deny that. Since I started working at the pub, the number of teenagers has increased, before that only drunk workaholics and slot machine addicts frequented the pub, and when Hajnal had a good day, the AA club held its meetings there.

You could say that it was thanks to me that she didn't go bankrupt — although I wasn't brave enough to tell her that as I was begging for work.

Eventually, she realized how perfect of an employee I was, and she was lucky that I liked the place, and I didn't look for another one. We agreed that I would start that day.

So I cheerfully arrived at the place, and then I saw him. Hajnal had already picked up a kid to take my place. My face remained impassive, of course, I just asked Hajnal who the fuck that was and why he was wearing our uniform — not with those exact words either, of course.

Hajnal said she didn't trust me anymore and bet me I couldn't last a week without skipping work for some reason — so of course she hired the enthusiastic Cecil. Because his name was Cecilián! Funny, huh? I thought I was going to die laughing — only to myself, of course, and in reality my mouth was just barely curled upwards, because I knew that if I laughed openly in the face of the kid, Hajnal would hit me so hard in the back of the head that I'd never recover properly.

But seriously, who hates their child so much at birth that they name them that? (Okay, okay, my mother hasn't even given me a name, still, it was a much better outcome than being named that.)

Anyway, as I was to learn, everyone just calls him C. Well, if I had a name like that, I wouldn't like it either... In fact, the kid's parents were at least half-shifters, if not completely, so he was surrounded by the unmistakable stench of reptiles.

Anyway, here's this kid C, who stole my place and even had the audacity to smile sweetly at me. I wanted to send him to a place with a warmer climate... like hell.

After that, Hajnal told us to clean up and stormed off to her office. That must have been about an hour ago, and I had only finished five tables — the cheeky asshole only finished three, so we weren't making much progress.

I grabbed the bottle of detergent and squeezed out about a quarter of it on the desk — at least it smelled of lemon, which I liked. I cursed Hajnal inwardly, of course, and vowed to kill her the next time she made me scrub the tables, though I was strictly thinking about it because I was still afraid that if I cursed aloud she might hear me. Hajnal has always had a knack for popping in unexpectedly in such situations.

I decided to allow myself a short break, as my hands were numb from the shoulders down. I glanced over to the despicable job thief working at the other end of the room. The little bastard! How dare he steal my well-earned place! He'll be sorry he started working in this place!

Dear Cecil — I almost laughed at the mere thought of his name — was swearing loudly and sending beautiful curses at our customers. Meanwhile, he decided to help himself again to the bottle of detergent he had left on the previous table. He leaned over the table he just started cleaning to reach the damn bottle, when he slipped on yesterday's spillage and headbutted the dirty table top with a nice bang. It's been a long time since I laughed so hard.

Of course, part of the reason was that dear Cecil was too proud a man for the pink apron — which I admit I even looked good in. Of course, he smirked that I had put on the rag, but now he must have regretted it, for the tablecloth left a nice imprint on his shirt.

He jumped up in an instant, but no matter how hard he tried to wipe the shirt with his sponge, he made it worse. He cursed and threw the bottle to the ground, which again made me smile. He presented me with his middle finger and cursed me too — I continued to enjoy myself. After that, he stormed off to change. I tell you, schadenfreude is the greatest pleasure.

It took until opening time to successfully clean the place up, so it was another exhausting night. It was well into the midnight hours when I was wiping a glass in complete peace of mind, and a man in a robe sat down opposite me.

"What can I get you?" I asked, bored.

The man looked up at me. The shadow of the hood covered almost all of his face, but his eyes were almost glowing. I think he had burgundy eyes. Suddenly I couldn't decide.

In any case, that unusual look almost immediately paralyzed me. Then my guest threw back his hood, showing me his face. He looked young, only about thirty, but certainly no more than that. He smiled — there was something frightening, something threatening, even in this otherwise kind gesture.

He asked for rosé, but of the best kind, the kind that the average customer would have been unable to afford, and also of the kind of wine of which there was only one closely guarded bottle in the pub. I disappeared into the alcohol chamber for a moment, then returned with the bottle, removed the cork, and poured the juice into a slender crystal glass.

The unknown man first merely sniffed at the insolently expensive drink in his glass, and only then did he taste it. He sighed in satisfaction. Soon afterward, when he had finished his drink and paid, he left. I didn't give too much importance to this and went home at the end of my shift. At two in the morning, I fell into bed almost half-asleep and fell into a deep slumber immediately.

I found myself in an unusual place. The ground on which I was standing was perfectly flat; it reflected my shape and the sky above me. The sky was a reddish color, the clouds were off-white, yet the most striking thing was the color of the sun's disk: pitch black.

I looked around and confirmed that I was standing in the middle of nowhere.

There was a noise behind me, so I immediately turned around. A huge double-door gate stood there, as high as a church steeple. In the middle of the gate's halfway point, I discovered a huge reddish gemstone, which at a glance was more than two metres in diameter. Inside the gem darkness swirled and I knew it was a huge shard of life. I could almost hear the screams of the many victims whose lives were taken to make it.

A guard stood in front of the gate, wearing a white cloak and hood that concealed his identity. I stepped closer, wanting to ask where I was.

"Leave," I heard. "You are not worthy of entry."

The stranger's voice startled me: it was suspiciously similar to mine. Then the stranger pulled down his hood and I thought I was seeing wrong. I was looking at myself. Although the doppelganger's hair was snow-white, the whites of his eyes were black, contrasting sharply with his blue irises.

"Who are you?" I asked almost accusingly.

"Leave, this is my last warning," he said.

I didn't want to leave. I wanted to know what lay beyond the huge gate that beckoned me.

The doppelganger stopped trying to persuade me, and instead, in the blink of an eye, he appeared in front of me, grabbing me by the neck and knocking me to the ground.

I groaned and immediately grabbed his hand. He raised his other hand in attack — I knew the move, for it was my own: he was about to pierce my chest. I did not like the idea.

I kicked him off of me and jumped up, but by then it was too late, I stood up only to be met with his punch, which sent me flying toward the gate.

The world spun around me and I could feel the metallic taste of my blood in my mouth. I scrambled to my feet, but the doppelganger was standing in front of me. He grabbed my neck again and slammed me hard against the door. I heard the distinctive sound of the breaking of bones and a series of cracks started in the seemingly fragile door. The cracks reached the shard of life, which exploded into atoms with a huge bang.

The doppelganger was squeezing my neck tighter, I couldn't breathe, and I scratched and clawed at his hand in vain, he didn't seem to feel it.

I wished that the gate would suck me in because I would die in a minute. Surprising as it was, that happened. It felt like I was suddenly descending below the surface of water. My doppelganger, as if burned by the touch of the gate, withdrew his hand — and I fell through to the other side.