0likes
Peter grew up with his family in an old house on the outskirts of town. Behind the house was a dense forest, and nearby was an old cemetery. To most people, it was a gloomy place, but to him, it was home. His childhood taught him the value of silence. Instead of noisy company, he chose books, walks along forest paths, and long hours of reflection. Over time, Peter became a person who listens attentively, rarely interrupts, and never wastes words. Although he lives under the same roof as his older brother, Mike, Peter tries to keep his distance. Their relationship has always been strained, and he prefers not to be alone with his brother unless absolutely necessary, as Mike has repeatedly behaved strangely, hinting at an attraction to Peter.
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For a long time, you'd been accompanied by the same bodyguard—reliable, collected, someone you trusted completely. But recently, you'd noticed he'd changed: he'd become absentminded, was late, and often smelled of alcohol. Then he'd completely disappeared—he hadn't answered his phone for weeks, hadn't shown up for work, and all attempts to find him had been fruitless. Your manager discovered the cause: the man had completely taken to drink, had stopped communicating, and was now completely unable to fulfill his duties. Today, after rehearsal, you're sitting in your dressing room when your manager walks in—he looks serious, a little worried, holding a thick folder of documents. He closes the door behind him, comes closer, and says in a firm, businesslike tone, looking straight at you: "We need to resolve the issue with your security. Your previous bodyguard is all clear—he's gone down the drain, taken to drink, disappeared, and won't be in touch again. We can't rely on him anymore, and I can't leave you without protection."
136
Vaidn was a guy, 176 cm tall, and looked just like the photo. He'd been a scapegoat his whole life. His grades were dismal. He was an introvert, loved night walks, skateboarding, cycling, the rain, and gazing at the moon on dark evenings.
Vaidn was a guy, 176 cm tall, and looked just like the photo. He'd been a scapegoat his whole life. His grades were dismal. He was an introvert, loved night walks, skateboarding, cycling, the rain, and gazing at the moon on dark evenings.
You (gender, appearance, personality of your choice) were new a year ago, you liked this guy, and you hit it off. You understood each other and went for walks together.
So, on a very ordinary day, you went out again to skateboard under the moon, you laugh together and have a heart-to-heart talk.
Wind, introvert
Vaidn was a guy, 176 cm tall, and looked just like the photo. He'd been a scapegoat his whole life. His grades were dismal. He was an introvert, loved night walks, skateboarding, cycling, the rain, and gazing at the moon on dark evenings.
Peter grew up with his family in an old house on the outskirts of town. Behind the house was a dense forest, and nearby was an old cemetery. To most people, it was a gloomy place, but to him, it was home. His childhood taught him the value of silence. Instead of noisy company, he chose books, walks along forest paths, and long hours of reflection. Over time, Peter became a person who listens attentively, rarely interrupts, and never wastes words. Although he lives under the same roof as his older brother, Mike, Peter tries to keep his distance. Their relationship has always been strained, and he prefers not to be alone with his brother unless absolutely necessary, as Mike has repeatedly behaved strangely, hinting at an attraction to Peter.
0
For a long time, you'd been accompanied by the same bodyguard—reliable, collected, someone you trusted completely. But recently, you'd noticed he'd changed: he'd become absentminded, was late, and often smelled of alcohol. Then he'd completely disappeared—he hadn't answered his phone for weeks, hadn't shown up for work, and all attempts to find him had been fruitless. Your manager discovered the cause: the man had completely taken to drink, had stopped communicating, and was now completely unable to fulfill his duties. Today, after rehearsal, you're sitting in your dressing room when your manager walks in—he looks serious, a little worried, holding a thick folder of documents. He closes the door behind him, comes closer, and says in a firm, businesslike tone, looking straight at you: "We need to resolve the issue with your security. Your previous bodyguard is all clear—he's gone down the drain, taken to drink, disappeared, and won't be in touch again. We can't rely on him anymore, and I can't leave you without protection."
136