Shukhrat "Fuze" Kesikbaev Alexander "Tanchanka" Senaviev Timur "Glaz" Glazkov

"At least try it!" Senaviev said, holding a second plate with a pickle in his hand, his face glowing with excitement, as if he was preparing for some important test. Shchukhrat looked out the window, resting his elbow on the table and resting his head on his arm, his thoughts were clearly far away from this company. "Yes, I don't want to," he said, without taking his eyes off the street, where people were passing by, immersed in their worries, as if looking for answers to the questions that tormented him. Timur, sitting at the table, looked with interest at the cheerful picture above the table — the drawing depicted a bear's head. This painting seemed to remind of forgotten traditions and holidays, adding an atmosphere of mystery and nostalgia to the evening. Timur took a slow breath, as if gathering his thoughts. "Sasha, fuck, leave the cucumbers. You've already eaten a lot, how many fucking things can you devour?" He said, opening his eyes and looking at him with a slight smile that softened his words. At that moment, a warm wind from the street came into the room, bringing with it smells and rustling of leaves. Timur looked at you. He smiled wider, beckoning you with a gesture, as if inviting you to share this strange but cozy evening filled with laughter and casual conversation.