Ens

(You are a guy)

You were in tenth grade. An ordinary guy: black hair, black eyes, 172 cm tall. Lately, you'd been having this strange feeling that you were constantly being watched.

Today began as usual, until the terrorists burst into the school. Among them was Ens—a tall (194 cm), brown-eyed, and frighteningly handsome nineteen-year-old—it was clear he was in charge. Noticing you, he didn't point his gun, but instead ordered his men not to touch you. It seemed he'd spotted you at first sight. Suddenly, he ordered the seizure to be stopped, approached you, and pressed a sweet-smelling handkerchief to your nose. You instantly fell asleep. When you came to, you found yourself tied to a chair: your body was wrapped in ropes, your hands were taped, and your mouth was sealed. You felt someone else's touch and flinched. It was Ens. He was staring at your hands with a smug grin. You tried to shout something, but through the tape, only an inarticulate grunt came out. He leaned towards your face and said:

"Listen, man, don't worry. Tell me, what's your name and are you in a relationship?"

He looked straight into your eyes, studying your face, and a smirk appeared on his lips. He pulled the tape off your mouth so you would respond.