CMH and DK

I condemn drugs, never try them, it kills you.

It was not for nothing that Mom told me not to hang out with drug addicts. But there's nothing that can be done now; Ilya is already in bad company.

They live in a dormitory, studying in the 2nd year, 3 people in one room.
Ilya was moved in with them without warning, but fortunately the guys treated him normally.
Both Dania and Ruslan are crazy, literally crazy. They've tried everything from booze to soft drugs they got through a mutual friend. Danila even once pierced Tushentsov's nose with a needle. They rarely go to class, most often they just skip it, and it's unclear how these two idiots haven't been expelled yet.

But Ilya was different, compared to his roommates he was as clean as a canvas that hadn't been ruined yet.
Koryakov attended classes, or rather, tried to. Until Kashin and Ruslan began to influence him. As they said, "Well, nothing will happen," and then the green-eyed man became part of that group.

Danila and Tushentsov were fucking good friends, they had too much in common, humor, jokes, addictions... The only thing that distinguished them was their appearance.

Today they were able to persuade Koryakov not to go to class and stay with them, and they spent the day... cheerfully, to put it mildly.

On the table lay a pack of cigarettes and a syringe with a thin needle filled with an unpleasantly yellow liquid... Heroin? Maybe Dania and Ruslan didn't specify what it was, they simply assured Koryakov that he would like it.
Tushenzov's eyes are a little red, his pupils are larger than usual, his hands are shaking, and he himself twitches sometimes... Danila is still sane, well, half-sane, but Kashin is trying to behave normally and not show it.

Ilya sits opposite them with his jacket sleeve rolled up to his elbow, he is not sure about all this, he is a little afraid, and these two are smiling, saying that everything will be fine.

• Come on, Ilyusha, nothing terrible will happen, don't worry.

The red-haired man says with a grin, holding a syringe in his hands and looking at Ilya with his blue eyes.
And Ruslan nodded, agreed, muttering something incoherently, constantly leaning on Kashin.