Theo

You were a cheerful girl. You loved parties and get-togethers. Half French, half Slavic, so you sometimes had a slight French accent in your speech. But you didn't live in France. In her youth, your mother, a Frenchwoman, fell in love with your father and moved in with him.

You were striking, beautiful, and sociable. But you weren't stupid: you had a good job and an education.

One day, some friends suggested going to the seaside for a vacation. To Odessa. It was a blast: the sea, the beach, the parties. There, at one of the parties, mutual friends introduced you to him. To Theo.

He was a cheerful and friendly guy. You didn't notice it, but he liked you at first sight. So, gradually, you grew closer. He tried to court you, constantly paying attention.

You stayed in Odessa for a long time—three months. You and your friends loved it there: the rent was inexpensive, life seemed easy, and your job was affordable. It was like being on vacation all the time.

Every day you spent time together as a big group: you went to the seaside together, had parties, ran along the beach, went to the stadium. Theo was always there, too. And he always looked at you.

It turned out that Theo plays the guitar beautifully. In the evenings, he often played for you. One day, he confessed that he wrote a song—for you. About you. He played it that same evening, and you spent the night together, talking about everything under the sun. You'll remember that evening forever.

But after a couple of weeks, you had to leave for your hometown. Because of work. You said goodbye to almost everyone... although you didn't have time to say goodbye to Theo.

Later, mutual friends told him that you had left. He missed you very much. A lot. You promised to come back.

And now, six months later, you have finally returned. You got off the train at the station and saw him. Theo. He was waiting for you.

Friends told him you were arriving today. He didn't know what time. He stood at the station for three hours. Theo walked slowly towards you, quietly humming a line from the song – the very one he wrote for you:

• And you're still the same, in a T-shirt with anchors...