Night club. Tables, a disco. Club music is playing. The case is already coming to an end, it's late at night, so there is almost no one in the club anymore.
On the dance floor, Dasha is far from fresh-looking, far from drunk-looking and it is unclear from what remnants of strength she squeezes out the last movements of herself, trying to give out her signature feints.
Zhora is sitting at the table, carefully watching Dasha with ecstasy. He thinks, takes aim.
Dasha falls almost exhausted on the dance floor.
The music stops.
Zhora immediately explodes from the spot and runs to pick up Dasha.
Zhora (solicitously). Girl, how are you
? Are you hurt? Everything is fine? Let me help you.
Dasha (with interest, but at a distance). S.
Zhora picks up Dasha, but accidentally steps on her foot, she screams.
Zhora (guiltily). Pardon the moi, mademoiselle.
Dasha notes for herself the interesting behavior of a stranger.
Dasha (with interest, goes to the rapprochement). Yes, figs with him (waving his hand), it will pass.
Dasha holds out her hand to Zhora, he shakes it like a man.
Dasha (gallantly). Daria, you can Dasha!
Zhora (with the smile of a March cat). Georgy Shustrilov, as simply as possible-Zhora.
Dasha (smiling). Very pleasant. And I look like you've been watching me here for a long time. Or was it just my imagination?
Zhora (a little embarrassed). Well … yes, there is such a thing. I liked you. I didn't know how to approach him, so as not to scare him away.
Dasha (flirting). And I, by the way, fell on purpose. To check whether you will fit or not.
Zhora (flirting). Oh, you sly one!
Dasha (flirting). Yes!
Zhora (flirting). And … listen, well, since you wanted to check, then you also paid attention to me?
Dasha (flirting). I did, I really did. (He pauses) There is no one else in the club. Who else should I pay attention to?
Zhora (positively). Hah! That's also true. So what? Since I liked you and you liked me, then let's go?
Dasha (as if not understanding). Where to?
Zhora (positively). Well… there are two options. Either to you or to me.
Dasha (improbably). Oh, no, I'm not like that!
A small pause
Zhora (disappointed). What…? Not like that at all?
Dasha (fearing to lose the cavalier). No, well, not quite straight, not like that. But… as if she were a nedotakaya!
Zhora (disappointed). And … hmm.
Zhora is thinking about what to do with all this. Dasha takes the initiative!
Dasha (fearing to lose the cavalier). But this does not mean at all that I am just not like that at all! Don't think about it. Simply… well, not just right away? It's necessary somehow… not right away… right? Or not? Or how it should be?
Zhora (cautiously). Honestly… I do not know how to do it… But I know exactly what I need. Right here… very necessary!
Dasha (sighs thoughtfully, confused). Ah…, very necessary right?
Zhora (pained). Straight… in general, kapets!
Dasha (thoughtfully sighs in confusion). Soooo.... So-so-so-so-so-so-taaaaaaaaaak …
Zhora (pained). Dasha… we have to do something!
Dasha (guiltily). M … you know… I can't do it today. But… but let's do this. Write down my phone number. Let's meet one of these days, maybe tomorrow, and settle our issue. On the second date, you can already… if you are careful.
Zhora (with sadness, but more or less positively). Ah, come on.
Dasha takes Zhora's phone, puts her numbers there, throws it off for herself, her phone rings. She keeps his number for herself.
Dasha (moderately positive). Well. Everything is ready. I kept yours for myself, too. We'll call you.
Zhora (improbably). Absolutely!
Zhora waves goodbye and leaves in some disappointment.
Dasha goes to the toilet in confusion.
The music is playing, the dance floor is empty, the hall is empty. A sleepy Gosha returns from the toilet.
He goes out into the hall, looks around, looks for someone.
The music stops.
Gosha (indignantly surprised). I didn't understand, but where?
Dasha returns from the toilet, corrects something in her purse, is about to leave.
Gosha notices her, forgets about his thoughts, turns his gaze on the girl.
Gosha (positively, rubbing his palms). Opanki …
Gosha pulls up in a certain dance to Dasha. Dasha fumbles in her purse, sees nothing and no one around.
Gosha (with a gun, confidently, dancing). Hello, hello, beautiful. What's your name?
Dasha turns her gaze to Gosha, looks at him point-blank with the context "Get off", continues to look for something in her purse, fixing her gaze there as well.
Gosha (without losing enthusiasm). Got it! Let's try another way.
Gosha enters a new circle, while diverging in the dance. The music is getting louder again. Gosha anneals such feints, which are difficult not to pay attention to. This is both ridiculous and sinful and moderately professional and flirtatious. In general, he manages to attract the girl's attention. Dasha leaves her purse alone, at first she casually lets short glances at the boy who is showing off several times, then she changes her mind about leaving. She is already looking at the way the guy moves, a smile flashes on her face and even some part of embarrassment, but she keeps herself in control.
Gosha understands that the trick was a success, the client is ripe, you can approach. Fits.
The music stops.
Gosha (trying to catch her breath from her stormy dance). Georgy Vilyaev! But everyone calls Gosha.
Dasha is in some confusion, her arms are crossed on her chest, her face expresses surprise.
Gosha (without losing hope). Do you mind meeting me?
Dasha (exquisitely). George means …
Gosha (in his own way). Yes, call Gosha. So somehow it's not so official, and it's more familiar. Well, so what? M?
Gosha plays along with his eyes, flirts, grimaces, plays with his shoulders and still tries to finish off the girl with his signature movements.
Dasha (smiling from everything that is happening). Okay, you've talked, you tongue-tied devil. I'm Dasha.
Gosha (pleased). Dasha? Fine. A beautiful name, a beautiful girl, a beautiful voice. Well, everything is just on the highest level …
