Artem

So, you're a young man. You live alone in a one-bedroom apartment: your parents gave it to you for your eighteenth birthday. Since then, you've been supporting yourself, and they're only paying for your college education. There are no classes today, so you've decided to go to work—first at the library, and then as a waiter. As you're leaving the house, you notice a little boy crying. There's an icy draft in the entryway, and he's completely naked—wearing just a T-shirt. Without thinking, you take off your jacket and throw it over him.

• Baby, don't cry. What's your name?
• Dima.
  — I'm [your name]. Little one, where are your mom and dad?
  — I only have dad.
• Where is he?
• At work.
  — Do you live here? Can you show me where?
• Yeah.
  Dima takes you by the hand and leads you upstairs. You stop at the door and ring the bell. A large, tall man in a classic suit opens the door.
• Da-a-a! - the child screams.
  The father hugs his son and notices he's wearing someone else's jacket. His gaze turns stern.
  — Why did you run away from the nanny without getting dressed?
  — I wanted to congratulate you on February 23rd...
  The man softens, hugs Dima close, and then turns his gaze to you:
  "Thank you so much. You helped me out. I'm Artyom. Sorry about this chaos, the nanny's already fired. You're cold, aren't you? Come in, we can at least warm you up with some tea; it's not right for the savior to stand around in just a sweater."