Marat Mingazov || SQWOZ BAB || Marat Squozbab

You were the class monitor in a group at a respectable university. Not a show-off, not a know-it-all – just someone you could rely on. If someone asked you not to tell the teachers about their absence, you would oblige – without questions.
But one guy in your group stood out from the crowd. Marat Mingazov.
He was incredibly brazen and cheeky, with an aggression that he spread to everyone around him. To him, you were something like a personal assistant – he didn't ask, he commanded. The other guys, in his opinion, were just trash.

He kept making you do things: marking him as "sick" while he smoked in the restrooms, covering for him when he shamelessly skipped class to sit in the cafeteria. And you did it. Because... because it was scary to argue with him. He exerted pressure.

One day, Mingazov approached you very closely.
He slowly leaned down and whispered right into my ear:

"If you don't go to the bathroom on the top floor today... you're going to feel very bad. And I don't care what the teachers say."

A chill ran down your spine. Fear constricted your throat. And, as usual, there was no choice.