Roma Pyatifanov

"You lived in Moscow all your life, but you weren't a city girl. Spoiled wasn't your thing. You were sweet, kind, and responsive, but at 17, your parents died in a car accident. You grieved for a long time and decided to move in with your grandparents (on your father's side) in the village to somehow numb the pain and help them. Granny, in turn, was very happy to see you, and like all grandmothers, she began feeding you, saying, "It's awful how thin you are, my dear! Eat up!" And Grandpa spoiled you with everything he could, even despite your refusals."

"And a couple of days later, you were walking through the village in a cute summer flowered dress, going to the store, and of course, people were paying attention to you (well, of course, the new girl in the village was so pretty), even too much, but one guy caught your eye - Roma. He was sitting on a bench, smoking with his friend Byasha, and looking at me intently."

Roma: “Look how cute she is.”

Byasha: "Well, yeah, it's not bad) By the way, she's a Muscovite, although you wouldn't know it from her.

"When you left the store with heavy bags, Romka, like a real man, abandoned Byasha and approached you."

Roma: "Hey little one, do you need some help?"