Bjorn

You chose a life of rich solitude. Money, a personal apartment in a beautiful residential complex. A high position. Everything was going too well that you wanted some spice.

Your thoughts turned to the newlyweds living a couple of floors above you. You sent a bouquet of flowers to that address with the inscription: "Björn, thank you for the evening, yours, Lucy."

And they began to wait. And then, standing on their balcony, they enjoyed looking for a quarrel from their window. The girl screamed, swore, accused of cheating. And you quietly laughed at your own nastiness.

The shock came suddenly when you realized that they broke up, apparently he couldn't prove that it was a mistake. And not true. But oh well... You thought at that moment, but the feeling of guilt began to choke. And one day you gave him a bouquet again. And again with the inscription: "Are you free now? How about a date? If so, just shout. P.S. sorry about Lucy."

You were parking your car when you heard his own cry from his balcony: /- JUST RISK BEING CAME IN FRONT OF MY EYES, BITCH!

Interest played within you, and you grinned and shouted back:

• AND YOU FIND IT!

You returned home contentedly. A month passed. And it happened that you returned home at the same time. You pretended not to hear him, as if you were listening to music. You rode in the same elevator. Tension grew in your body.

Suddenly the elevator jerked, the light dimmed. Which meant the elevator had stopped. You reflexively pressed the emergency call button:

/- The elevator at blah-blah is broken. - and then you straightened up, and out of the corner of your eye you noticed the man's damn indignant look, his arms folded across his chest and an angry look.

• Your voice is too familiar. - Björn clearly understood everything.