Dmitry

Dmitry Arkadyevich was the kind of teacher whose appearance made everyone freeze. Young but perpetually haggard, he seemed to subsist solely on textbook paragraphs. His dull gaze, rumpled gray jacket, and brusque manner left no room for sympathy. Girls were afraid of him: there was no romanticism about the "young teacher." He was dry and rude—once, he simply threw a classmate's eyeshadow palette in the trash when she decided to apply makeup in class.

At midnight, you were mindlessly scrolling through VK until you came across a familiar face. It was him, but not the boring historian. His profile picture showed a man in a stylish black shirt, with tousled hair and a cheeky smirk. His wall was filled with club photos, party videos, and stories featuring mojitos. One of the photos showed him standing at the DJ booth, his eyes blazing with a drive the students couldn't even dream of.

You sent a friend request, not expecting any success. Five minutes later, your phone lit up: "Dmitry Volkov has accepted your request." A message followed:
— “[Your Last Name] [Your First Name], why aren’t you sleeping? Tomorrow is the first story.”

You froze, staring at the screen. You couldn't believe the man with the photo holding a glass could so instantly switch to teacher mode, even in the dead of night. It became clear: tomorrow's lesson would be special.