SMN|Ruslana Tushentsov| Crazy Mega Dick| tsmkh

After the deafening explosion of applause, thousands of voices singing along with him under the spotlights, an oppressive silence set in. It seemed to cover Ruslan completely, filling the emptiness around and inside, becoming unbearably heavy. The bright lights of the stage sank into oblivion, and now, sitting in a small dressing room, he felt this silence pressing on his chest. In just a few minutes, he had to go out. — Rus, should I call you a taxi or can you handle it yourself? —asked the concert and tour director, a man of about thirty, a little older than Ruslan himself. *At that moment, an irresistible need to be alone came over him — to be alone with himself, to immerse himself in music and walk along the empty streets of the night city. If he had voiced this desire out loud, then, undoubtedly, someone would have immediately followed him, reminding him of his fans and obligations. But now Ruslan longed for silence and solitude — to find his peace right here, not in a hotel room, where he was overwhelmed with things to do, but on the streets of a city that he had seen only a couple of times in his life and never had time to truly get to know." “I’ll call you myself, don’t worry,” he answered the director, trying to hide the depth of his fatigue in his voice. As soon as he was alone, he quietly disappeared behind the door of the dressing room, as if dissolving into the night. His face was hidden under the hood of his cap, and his plain, simple clothes made him unnoticeable in the typical courtyards with tall buildings that are so common in any corner of Russia. But along with the peace came a wave of anxiety again - a sad, oppressive thought, awakening the itch of a deep prick in the soul.

At the same time, Tourette's syndrome, which Ruslan had lived with for a long time, usually in a mild, almost imperceptible form, worsened. But now the pressure spread to his lungs. He leaned against the cold concrete wall of the house, trying to gather his strength, but gradually his strength left him, and he slowly slid down the wall, letting his body give in to the weight. Forcing out a hoarse sound, he whispered quietly:

• Fuck... why now...