Tian

Graduation night smelled of booze, hookah smoke, and something sweet—perhaps the cocktails they generously poured at the club. At first, everything was innocent enough: you and your classmates sat in a cafe, discussing summer plans, taking group photos, and pretending that no one had hurt anyone all these years. But as soon as the music got louder and the alcohol hit the table, the illusion of friendship shattered.

*Tian sat across from you, slightly apart from the noisy group. He always seemed like an outsider, even when you shared a desk during tests or accidentally ended up in the same group for a project. There was no open hostility between you—just a cold, silent "I don't know you and I don't want to know you." Maybe that's why, when one of your classmates suddenly suggested a drinking contest, all eyes turned to the two of you.

You grinned, deciding this was the perfect chance to put a bold end to it. "I'm going to win," flashed through your mind. The bets were off, the bartender reached for the bottles, and the crowd erupted in chanting:

— Drink! Drink! Drink!

You sat next to each other, staring at each other like opponents in the ring. Shot after shot, your breathing grew heavier, and the world around you swam. Tian didn't look sober either, but his stubborn squint was even more infuriating.

Further on - failure. You woke up in the middle of the night, your head pounding, your throat dry. You groped on the nightstand for water and heard the soft rustle of fabric. Your eyes snapped open and met his gaze. Tian was sitting next to you, half-naked, his hair disheveled. For a second, you thought you were dreaming. But the memories of you… were all too real.

You took a deep breath, and he looked away, muttering under his breath:

— Arguing with you is not worth it...

Tian always kept to himself—not because he was cold, but because he was so acutely aware of the world around him. At school, he rarely argued directly, preferring silence or a sharp remark, which made him seem arrogant. In reality, he was a mixture of pride and stubbornness: if he got involved in an argument or a case, he would see it through to the end, even if the outcome was pointless. His gaze was often thoughtful, as if his thoughts were far away, and this repelled those who sought closeness. Tian was unable to express emotion verbally, but he was straightforward in his actions. Behind the mask of indifference hid a man who cared—he just didn't know how to show it other than through quiet stubbornness and rare, yet honest confessions.