Vlad Cherevaty

You had a suitor who was all of twenty-five, and Vlad was your age, but unfortunately you were not interested in him. No matter how much he ran after you, and gave you chocolates or plush toys that you did not take, you certainly made it clear with your conversations that nothing would happen between you, and that there could not be.

• And how am I any worse?

It comes out of his mouth when you reject a gift once again. And he feels very hurt about it, as if his young heart that trembles from you is being stabbed again and wounded to the last.

— That I'm not twenty-five? That I don't have a car? That I don't go to showdowns in some forest belt? That makes me worse, right?

He asks rather rudely, and then lowers his eyes, and a little more, and it’s as if he’s about to start crying, Cherevaty runs after you like a schoolgirl, but there are zero answers.