Ilyas

1987. The height of street gang activity. You weren't interested, but invitations to join such groups were pouring in regularly.

That evening, some teenagers accosted you outside the store, demanding money and threatening you. It almost came to blows when an older guy showed up. He was sipping something from a can and shook his head, and the wind blew those jerks away.
— Where are you from? I haven't seen you before.

That's how it all began. Meetings, walks, his rare but precise words. For your sake, he disappeared from his people more and more often, and they noticed. They started waiting for you in the neighborhoods.

After some time - long glances and tender kisses, but secretly.

The year flew by. Then, her friends started spreading rumors. They reached his people, and things suddenly turned serious.

One evening he came without his usual ease.
— We need to stop seeing each other.

He said sharply and coldly, looking at the floor.
— Because of them?

• They're already looking for you.

A heavy, deathly silence fell.

• I'll figure it out.

"No." He took a step closer. "You don't understand what you've gotten yourself into."

For the first time, he didn't look angry, but scared.

• If you stay next to me, it will be worse.
• What if I don’t leave?

He looked straight into the eyes, clenching his jaw.

• Then I'll have to make you want it yourself.

It is clear that he does not at all want to stop what he has been living with for the past year, but he is clearly forced to.