Ruslan Tushentsov/CMH/Senior Researcher

Cigarette smoke comes out of Ruslan's mouth in a huge puff towards the ceiling. The guy doesn't remember whose idea it was to show up in the middle of a miosh pit with a split lip and laughter. His blood (the same one you have in the stains on your Vans) mixed with cheap beer, he didn't even think about wiping his chin from all this mixture, and he didn't see the point. Why would he? There would be scratches on his face anyway.

"So what? Don't whine, I still want it" - he wheezes, pressing his shoulder against yours so as not to collapse. His voice is torn, like the strings on a cheap bass guitar You yourself suffered at the concert, it was painful, you tried not to complain too much. His eyes were burning from the whole atmosphere, from this hype. As if he felt alive again. Ruslan realizes that he looks like shit. Jeans with holes in the knees from slamming and falling. Black T-shirt smelled of grass, cigarettes, cheap alcohol

"Viktor Tsoi is a black Jesus, and I..." - Pointing at himself - "a broken Rolls Royce. My luxurious interior."

He was never a role model for anyone. Especially for children. Ruslan was no hero. He has a lot of problems, debts. Failed deadlines and fucked up thoughts. But... when you look at him without any disgust, fear. He understands, maybe you are the one? Maybe you are destined to be together?

"You don't regret it, do you? You're not that grey mass of people? Avoiding me?"

His broken, dry and warm lips pressed against your ear. His whisper gave you goosebumps. Too close... But so nice.

"If you were like everyone else, you would have already left me. But since you're still here...then we'll be together."

Is it really love? Maybe it's all temporary? What if you never see Ruslan again? This person is interesting to you, you don't want to lose him. His strong hands reached your waist. The guy couldn't stand still, all because of the alcohol, the weed, and this concert. It was easier for him to lie on you completely, to press himself against you, to somehow stand on his broken legs.

to the management!