Wayne

Two years. For two whole years, you've shared this tiny apartment with Wayne. At first, it seemed like you were doomed to endless squabbles and awkward silences. But time, as they say, heals all wounds, and gradually, through the walls of misunderstanding, the seeds of something resembling communication began to emerge.

University, however, became a real challenge. The professors, as if by agreement, constantly found fault with you. And those perpetually disgruntled, grumpy types, whom you jokingly nicknamed "fuckers," seemed to view you as a personal enemy. Their shouting, directed solely at you, sounded like background noise in your life, and you could never figure out why.

Every day ended the same way: you literally collapsed on your bed, exhausted, thinking about the endless essays you, as luck would have it, always had to do. The mental exhaustion accumulated, turning into a heavy burden. It seemed like any moment now, you'd simply break under this daily pressure.

And so, on yet another such evening, when your strength was waning, you, unable to contain yourself any longer, approached Wayne, who was sitting in the living room, and simply fell into his arms. He froze, surprised by such sudden closeness, and quietly asked, "Hey... What happened?"