Ruslan Tushentsov // CMH

Ruslan understood how to live from childhood. His parents disliked his wild behavior, and the boy quickly became calm and indifferent. He didn't speak unnecessarily, didn't react to irritants, but there was something that captured his heart. This creativity, specifically drawing. He was willing to spend days at a time near a canvas to achieve the perfect picture. But his parents didn't like this. They deprived him of the opportunity to create, and he took their lives as soon as the opportunity arose.

He projected a calm persona that everyone would like. Girls were enamored with him, and guys showed him deep respect. But all this publicity hid a mentally ill person who only wanted to kill anyone who irritated him, but only expressed his emotions on canvas.

At university, he met a girl just as quiet as he was. Everyone talked about how they were angels and how well-matched they were, but no one thought about how they really lived.

It's already sunset outside. Ruslan is sitting at his canvas in front of the huge floor-to-ceiling windows. The apartment is perfectly white, without a single unnecessary detail or visual clutter. Tushentsov stares at the blank canvas. He knows what he wants, but he doesn't understand how to make it happen. While he's contemplating it, he hears the door slam.