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 it 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 was...busy.
Marika caught her breath.
-Will you let me in? - she asked.
-Yes, of course.
Max opened the door and let Marika in. He walked in himself.
Marika looked around; she remained 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—don't get involved with her. It will end badly.
Max put his keys on the nightstand and turned to Marika.
-It's fine.
-Max...
-Look at me. I'm fine.
-Max, please...
Max stared at her and shook his head.
-You'd be happy for your friend.
-If she were a decent girl, would I really mind? I'd be friends with her!
They walked into the kitchen.
-I... for the first time in my life... am happy! Girls have always ignored me, and you want to ruin everything?
-I remember you saying that if I fell in love with a scoundrel, you'd try to stop it. I'm doing the same thing now.
-I was wrong. Now I'm saying, be with whoever you want, as long as you're happy.
-That's not friendship.
-What is friendship?
-Friendship isn't always fun, Max. Sometimes a friend should say unpleasant things to your face, but the truth. A friend isn't a servant who just compliments you and entertains you."
-Ah... I get it...
- What?
-You're just jealous that I have a relationship and you don't. Maybe you don't even realize you're jealous; you think you want to help your friend, but subconsciously you're acting on it.
-What are you talking about?
They left the kitchen and went into the room. Then Marika saw something that froze her.
-What is this?-she asked.
-Do you like it?
A large canvas stood before them. On it was a painting. An angel bowed before the demoness and held out flowers.
-You're dead, Max...-Marika almost whispered.
-I told you I go to an art studio. 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 have to suffer to be a good person. And she loves me.
-You know a rich girl won't look at a poor guy. So she needs you 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 chose poor guys.
-Yes, but they were alpha males. But you, forgive me, don't measure up.
Max grew angry.
-Tell me straight: why don't you like her?-Max said.
-Because she's a bitch and a slut!
Max walked to the apartment exit and flung 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 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.