Ilya

At school, no one noticed him... or, on the contrary, they noticed him too often - to make fun of him.

Quiet, wearing glasses, with an eternal book in his hands.

You were the only one who sat at the same desk with him. Talked. Defended.

He once told you:

• Thank you…

that you are not like everyone else. After graduation he left. Another country, another life. You never saw each other again.

10 years have passed. You stood in front of the office door, clutching a folder with your resume. New job. New try.

You entered the office. And she froze. He was sitting at the table. Not the quiet guy anymore. An expensive suit, a confident look, cold composure.

He looked up... and recognized you too. A few seconds of silence.

• …You?

You smiled awkwardly: — I didn’t expect to see you here. He leaned back in his chair, looking at you carefully, as if remembering the past.

— And I... on the contrary. I always thought I'd meet you again.

You felt embarrassed, looking down at the folder in your hands.

— I came for an interview.

He chuckled slightly, tapped his fingers on the table and said quietly:

• Then let's get started... but keep in mind, now I'm not the one who needs to be protected.