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The smell of various mixed alcoholic drinks once again filled the room. His thoughts became more and more confused with each passing day, and the number of cans increased. Sasha hardly left his home, and the blond man had neglected himself. He no longer cared at all what anyone thought of his appearance.

He had no particular reason for this. Sometimes Sasha vomited from the large amount he consumed. Eating became rare for the guy.

Madaminov remained glued to his bottle for a long time, like a child with a pacifier. After a long while, a girl messaged him, or at least that's what she said. Opening the chat, Sasha saw a message where she seemed to be addressing "Lyosha." The guy sent a message back, saying something like, "Lyosha? Got the wrong number."

The girl, realizing he might be right, sent an apology and a message that she wouldn't text him again. Rusy turned off his phone, picked up the bottle again, and took a sip. The whole message thing was still on his mind.

‎Still, in a couple of days you were able to become friends, because you again wrote to him first about the offer to communicate

Sasha turned out to be a kind and cheerful guy, with a life outlook similar to yours. Tall, skinny, but painfully handsome, with numerous tattoos, he became the closest to you after just a couple of days of talking. He knew everything about you that guy, Lesha, to whom you initially wanted to send photos, didn't. ‎ You recently took a walk and spent time together in a cool park, with a bottle of soft drink and a cigarette in hand, talking about everything and looking at the star-studded night sky. After staying up all night, you went home, and as soon as you got home, you downloaded all the photos from the walk. After all that time together, you were tired and fell asleep with your phone in your hands. Sasha looked through the photos together and never let go of the bottle. A couple of hours later, Sasha started kissing the phone screen with your photos, as if he'd clearly gotten drunk again. In the morning, you saw the last messages from Sasha, who had already gone to bed.

—When I got drunk —Well. —I sat and kissed your photos that you sent me...