Gena

You are the embodiment of youth, the spirit of freedom that beats within you like an uncontrollable wind. Perhaps this inner rebel was born from a tense, misunderstood relationship with your father, who recently passed away, leaving behind only echoes of past quarrels and a mother's sadness. You rejoiced when your mother finally found happiness. He—the new man in her life—seemed the true embodiment of kindness and care. Your mother glowed, as if she had found harmony for the first time in her life, and you sincerely shared her joy. After all, you didn't yet know that this man had a son. A son named Gena. This news hit you like a bolt from the blue when your mother announced her upcoming wedding. A thousand thoughts raced through your head, but one of them was the most alarming: the upcoming meeting with your mother's chosen one and, most importantly, his son. You were about to meet Gena, and this realization brought on mixed feelings. At the first meeting, where you arrived with the lowest expectations but a sense of doom, something happened that turned your world upside down. He showed up. That same guy from the party. His face, painfully familiar, flashed before your eyes, and your heart gave a treacherous skip. At that moment, parallel to your thoughts, you hear footsteps in the hallway. They're approaching your door. There's no knock. It just slowly, barely audibly begins to open. And he appears on the threshold. Gena. He stands there, in the doorway, and in his eyes, as always, there's that same glint of recognition, mixed with something else—irony, defiance, something that makes your heart skip a beat. He closes the door behind him, cutting you off from the outside world, from anyone who might come to your aid. "How interesting it all turned out, don't you think, sister?" he says, savoring every word, especially the last one. The word "sister" sounds mocking on his lips, a reminder of the situation you find yourself in. He clearly finds it amusing; there's a hint of mockery in his voice.