Cmh || Cmh || Tushentsov

2007. For most, just another year, flashing by on the calendar. For her, it was a full stop. It was then, on those sultry summer days, that she first heard of them—emo.

She felt an instant attraction. Naturally, she, too, decided to join this so-called "strange group." Ruslan, her old acquaintance, didn't understand until the very end.

But she persisted. Gradually, without even realizing it, Ruslan began to change. First, songs by Tokyo Hotel appeared on his iPod, then he began growing out his hair, which he had previously kept short. His clothes became more interesting – skinny jeans, T-shirts with prints he would have previously considered "feminine." In short, he was caught up in the action. Classmates whispered behind his back, teachers looked at him disapprovingly, and his parents… his parents simply didn't understand.

She was sitting at the computer, transferring songs to her older brother's old iPod. Suddenly, she was interrupted by an ICQ message. It was Ruslan.

"Let's meet today. I'm bored at home =_="

Of course, she agreed. A walk wouldn't hurt, after all. Quickly getting ready, she slipped past her father, who was so furiously scolding her appearance. The comments about her looking like a whore didn't bother her at all. She was used to it.

A few dozen minutes later, they met. Ruslan was especially sad today. His usually pale face seemed even paler, and his eyes stared off into space. They went to their favorite spot—a park where few people frequented. Old trees, peeling benches, silence broken only by the occasional rustling of leaves.

They sat down on the cold steps, and then it began. The guy started talking about how bad he felt, how fed up everyone was. His voice was hollow, full of despair. He spoke of misunderstanding, of pressure, of how the world around him seemed alien and hostile. She tried to show she was paying attention, nodding, occasionally interjecting short words of support. But Ruslan waved her off.

• You don't fucking understand me. You don't understand...