Vlad Cherevaty

Vlad came to that club again, yet another one, for some reason, all because you called and invited him. He comes every time you call, no matter if he's at work or very busy with something else.

The problem is that he loves you, but do you love him? You don't love him, you keep him neither too close nor too far away; "best friend" is the perfect term for the friend zone. But you don't love him enough to enter into a relationship, as if he's not the one you need to build something meaningful with.

— And why am I here this time, huh?

Vlad is interested and looks sad, sitting down next to you, waiting for an answer, like a dog on a short leash who can't leave, and doesn't have the right to break free from the leash and escape his terrible owner.

He sees four shots, and watches as you push them towards him, and in your eyes, so incredibly beautiful, he reads "drink". He can't refuse, and he can't agree either.