Excerpt 1:

‘The truth is, in this business I constantly meet and communicate with people, but I rarely cross paths with ones I enjoy talking to. I mean… most have no passion! I can’t stand the way they describe their work with exaggerated excitement, when it’s clear that beneath the surface they don’t really care about it. They fervently defend the righteousness of their path, just because it fits some kind of clichéd dream they have chosen for themselves.’

Baylov shook his head, while Tanya kept looking at him in silence.

‘They scan my every word, searching for some hidden opportunity. They calculate, they filter… If they don’t detect anything that translates into a potential benefit for them, they turn off, like unplugged machines. But their heads keep nodding. They don’t really listen to me, but after every other sentence they say: “Actually, all that is veeery interesting!”’

He forced a smile and went on:

‘I like a different kind of people. I’d rather talk with a hatter, if you will! I’m serious!’ Tanya laughed at him. ‘You know why he would be an interesting company? Because he injects sincere passion into his craft, and sincere passion is contagious. It can make me listen, think and talk about hats with the same feeling. That’s the kind of communication that I want.’

‘I don’t suppose you meet that many “hatters”?’

‘No… Very few people choose to do something they truly care about. And even if they do, they rarely look for ways to advance, or even excel at it. They probably find it too risky, too demanding, I don’t know… But to me those are the only people who deserve attention.’

‘I guess it’s hard to come across “hatters” at corporate cocktail parties. Is that why you decided to skip the one tonight?’

‘I avoid such gatherings anyway,’ Baylov put the pen back on the desk. ‘They are full of people who don’t stand out – ordinary and almost identical, like cogs in a machine. They are all patting each other on the back, reassuring themselves that they are on the right path. But the truth is, they have chosen to merge into a faceless crowd, because it’s convenient. There are no tough decisions or mistakes, they follow someone else’s orders or example.’

Tanya was just about to ask him something when he suddenly got up and headed for the door.

‘Good night, Tanya. Keep up the good work. Looking at the time, I’m beginning to think we should review your position in the company,’ he nodded politely and left the room.

Tanya turned back to her computer screen and saw her own reflection in the black surface. She moved the mouse and the screen flashed in her face.

‘Hatters…’

She allowed herself to smile in the empty room.

Excerpt 2:

‘It is the direction I’m worried about. Not just here. Wherever I go everything revolves around wealth accumulation, but frankly I don’t see why anymore. It can’t be just for the sake of some ideal for a better life. No. That ideal does not exist anymore. What we have now is just desire for more of everything.

We lack a concept of sufficiency, enough is no longer enough. Money is the glue holding everything together, not just our lifestyles, but our relationships with everyone around us. The worst part is that the question we ask ourselves is no longer “how much do I have?”, but “do I have more than you do?”. We are constantly looking over the neighbour’s fence, counting their possessions, competing for the greener grass…’

‘How can you speak like that after so much wine, Alex! Seriously…,’ Leo was walking alongside Baylov, as if in a bit of a daze.

‘I don’t feel it special anymore, you know,’ Baylov continued. ‘The dinner, the fancy Italian restaurant. A few years back I would have remembered a night like this, the atmosphere of the place. Now I know I’ll forget it in 15 minutes! I am so used to having my every demand satisfied before it becomes a real need. There is too much food. There are too many whores. I’m sick of it all. This world wouldn’t let me get hungry.’

He slowed down, Leo pointed at a bench, and the two headed towards it.

‘I can’t have a moment of peace, if I don’t isolate myself,’ Baylov carried on. ‘I can’t feel any passion for my wife unless I switch off all my devices. I’m surrounded by images of semi-naked women everywhere, and I’ve come to see my wife as ordinary and… not beautiful enough…’ He stopped and sat on the bench. ‘Damn it… I desire her, but somehow while I’m with her I imagine all those women from the magazine ads… not just one, but all of them.’

Leo laughed and burped loudly.

‘If you think you’re the only one who wants to screw all the whores around – you’re wrong! There just comes a time when you become aware of what really matters, and what doesn’t.’

‘I’ve simply realised that I keep satisfying needs that are dictated from outside.’

‘Well, if you’re aware of that, everything’s fine with you, don’t worry.’

‘Perhaps you’re right.’

‘Of course I’m right. I’ve always been smarter than you.’

‘You wish.’

‘It’s a fact!’

Their laughter merged with the street babble.

Neither of them noticed the stray dog sleeping under their bench.

Excerpt 3:

‘I wasn’t hired the way you’d expect me to be… I didn’t come here the proper way…’

‘Please calm down, Rayna. What are you talking about?’

‘I… we… made a deal…’

‘What deal?’

‘A deal for money.’

Martin felt his temples pulsating.

‘Mr. Petrov promised to hire me if I pay him half of my salary during the trial period,’ Rayna continued. ‘He said he would stop after that period ended, but he didn’t, Mr. Kolev, he didn’t…’

Rayna broke down in tears again.

Damn! Blackmail. This complicated things. Martin frantically fumbled his mind for possible ways out of this situation.

‘Rayna, calm down,’ he handed her another tissue. ‘It will be fine. Let’s review step by step everything that has happened.’

‘I know that I’ll have to leave the company, now that I’ve told you, Sir…’

‘Let’s not talk about leaving. I want you to trust me that we will address the problem in the best possible way.’

What, the hell, was the best way?

Martin felt his palms growing cold. Petrov, that bastard! What kind of a deal was that? Martin calculated quickly in his mind – Rayna’s salary was 1000 euro, so Petrov had taken in 3000 euro during her six-month trial period. That wasn’t even as much as his monthly payment. No, that didn’t make any sense… He wouldn’t take the risk, not with all the bonuses and the security and comfort of his job… Somehow it didn’t add up.

Unless that was not an isolated case. How many people had Petrov hired out of the total 1000 employees? Maybe a third. If he used the same racket for another five or six people, that meant he was able to double his salary every month. In the next year he had to hire at least two hundred more, so his scheme could even triple his regular income. That did make sense. The risk was enormous, but he could pick the “right” people for his blackmail. And apparently up to now he hadn’t made a mistake.

But this girl, evidently, couldn’t take the pressure.

Martin’s eyes were fixated on the black leather chair where Rayna continued sobbing.

‘Rayna, look at me!’ he ordered sharply. ‘I want you to tell me right now in detail exactly how everything happened.’

Excerpt 4:

‘People look for jobs they can complain about, in order to justify their lack of ambition. Do you really think that if you keep paying the staff here, but let them decide about their daily duties, they will suddenly transform into brilliant and creative individuals? Nothing of the sort! Brilliant individuals are only those who can find “their thing” despite the circumstances. Comfort doesn’t breed such individuals. Comfort only breeds whining crowds, counting the minutes to their lunch breaks or to the end of their shift … Crowds that hurry back home, then sprawl on the couch and get stuffed or go to a bar and get drunk and whine, whine, whine…,’ Baylov pushed some papers on his desk with disgust. ‘And you know what the worst part is? If you really “liberate” those people, they will be a lot unhappier than if you gave them some measly job that kept them busy all day. That’s a fact much older than me and you.’

‘I don’t consider my job measly, Mr. Baylov.’

‘Great. So you are one of those ten percent who have succeeded in finding their thing,’ he felt he was going to crack up again. ‘That is, of course, if you really believe what you’re saying. Or you simply don’t want to admit that for you too, your job is just the perfect excuse?’ he paused for a few seconds. ‘Never mind. The truth is that here in MarketPower we even give people the feeling that they’re doing something important and meaningful. What more could they ask for, really…’

‘But they do ask for more, Mr. Baylov. Philip and Nick’s idea about the school is one such example.’

‘Then let them find a way! If they want it so much – they’ll succeed. Otherwise they’ll be just two of many who want something, but only if somebody else earns it for them. And they won’t admit it, like all the others in the crowds – walking around, claiming they are different. But they are not!’

***

‘People are convinced that in time they are going to accomplish something big; that if they only put some effort, they could make something of themselves. And soon, very soon, they will indeed give it a try! They will do their best – they only need to buy a car first, then an apartment, then have a child and raise it, buy a couple of expensive suits, travel a bit, while they’re still young… And then! Oh, THEN they will achieve something momentous, something that will change the world, something truly meaningful, and they will shine with all their talents…, ’ Baylov finally took a breath. ‘Postponing for “then”… that’s the perfect comfort of the modern-day human. Whining crowds with crappy jobs, feeding on illusions till their last breath.’

He approached Tanya, smiling widely at her.

‘And you, Tanya… are just a step away from that. You too are dreaming of a good excuse, the ideal excuse… That’s why you are chasing with such lust each step of the career ladder.’

Excerpt 5:

‘I know you, my friend,’ he whispered. ‘You envisage everything. Because you are well aware that success isn’t the pretty picture with the palm trees and the crystal-clear water, advertised in exotic holiday brochures. Bullshit! Success is a desert, Alex. Even with a few oases scattered here and there… it’s still a desert! And it will never be anything else.’

He took a long sip.

‘It’s quite a long and dirty road till you get there, but when you do, you realise that you are one of the few who’ve made it. A survivor!’ His smile gradually faded away. ‘And it is… great! Isn’t it? The struggles have been worth it. You are a winner, after all. Which means only one thing – that you and I are better than the rest.’

He downed the rest of his drink and got up.

‘Don’t ever forget that, Mr. Chief Executive Officer. We are better than the rest! Come on!’