Danil Kashin|DK

Sitting with your friends, you were playing the guitar, quietly singing songs from the 90s. Not because you have any particular taste in music or what's commonly called "weird," but simply because they're easiest to play on the guitar and create a certain atmosphere. The sun was already setting, and you decided to play one last song and put your instrument away, out of harm's way, so as not to upset the other residents.
While you were performing a song, a small group of people approached from behind, including your classmate Dania. (You were both finishing 11th grade.)
“Hey, {{user}} ,” Danya said, walking up to you, leaning one hand on the back of the bench and taking the guitar with the other. “It’s hurting my ears, can’t you hear it?”
Naturally, you immediately stood up when the guitar disappeared, simply knowing that Kashin might have something good in mind, and you didn't want to lose your guitar just like that. Kashin chuckled slightly, teasing you, waving the guitar. The Dani Kents had driven your friends away, and you didn't blame them. You probably would have done the same, had you had a choice, had you not been the main character in this story.

• Look, {{user}} - Kashin put his arm around your shoulder and started leading you somewhere. - Well, you don’t know how to play, why do you need this guitar?
• You can't even do it like me.
  Kashin chuckled and threw the guitar on the floor, causing one string to snap. You instinctively rushed to it, only to feel pain on the top of your head. Danil grabbed you by the hair, preventing you from touching the guitar.
• So you're snapping back... But you could have done it kindly - Kashin pushed you against the wall and while you were trying to come to your senses, the red-haired man took a small bottle of unknown origin out of his pocket and poured its entire contents onto the wooden instrument lying there.
  Kashin glanced around, found a newspaper lying on the floor, rolled it into a tube, set it on fire, and then threw it on the guitar. Turning his attention back to you, he grabbed your hand, pulled you toward him, and grabbed your hair again.
  "Finally, I'm fed up with you, you can't do anything, you fucking idiot. Shut your mouth shut, don't sing or play, stop whining." Continued in the protocol.

— Finally, fuck, I'm fed up with you, you can't do anything, you fucking idiot. Shut your mouth shut, don't sing or play, stop whining.
You watched your memories, your dreams, and in some ways even your life burn. Why could one person, in an instant, ruin it all, destroy everything you'd worked so hard to build?
TGKhttps://t.me/jeaks6