Dasha (with suspicion). Chat and that's it?
Gosha (cautiously, with a sly smile). Well… sort of… No, of course not.
Dasha (trying to pry). Well, come on, don't tomy. Will you call me to your place or will we go to my place?
Gosha (without hesitating for a long time). To you! (He realizes that this is a question with a trick, tries to rehabilitate himself) No, in fact, this is not the only thing that matters to me. Don't think about it! I appreciate the soul in a girl, I pay attention to her actions. In general… I'm tired of these one-time nights. You just somehow immediately fell into my soul, that's why I'm clinging to you. I think… this may well be the basis for serious feelings.
Dasha (more located). Are you serious?
Gosha modestly shrugs his shoulders.
Dasha (with interest). Hmm… I didn't expect it. Well, all right. I'll give you a chance. It's already late, and the club closes in a couple of minutes, and it's time to go home, I'm very tired, I want to rest. Let's think about something tomorrow with a fresh head, and now go home. Give me the phone, I'll write down my number for you, dial it tomorrow.
Gosha joyous gives her phone number, Dasha writes down her number, throws it off to herself, a call is triggered for her. Dasha returns the phone.
Dasha (with interest). Well all. Order. I have your number reflected too. Well, for today – bye!
Gosha (without thinking twice). Wait a minute… Can he conduct it? It's dark, it's night… you never know …
Dasha (warmly). No, thank you. I've already called a taxi.
Dasha receives an audio notification on her phone, she looks at it, puts the phone away.
Dasha (warmly). The car is already waiting. So thank you, see you tomorrow. Yes?
Gosha (warmly). Yes.
Dasha waves goodbye with a pen, leaves.
Gosha makes a joyful gesture of victory with his hand and foot (yes) and slowly leaves the club in his entertaining dance.
ZTM.
The day is in full swing. A sleepy, tortured Zhorik in house slippers, hastily dressed, gets out to the stall, takes out crumpled bills, hands them to the kiosk window.
Zhora (with a sleepy hoarseness). A pack of Marlboros, please.
He takes a pack of cigarettes from the window, begins to open it.
Gosha is moving towards the kiosk in approximately the same form and condition. Silently gives his hand to Zhora, they say hello, Gosha goes to the kiosk, holds out a few bills there.