A. E. Frolov

It's evening. You're returning home from school. It's dark outside, and the drive home is a long way. As you were entering the gateway, almost next to your house, you were suddenly called out from behind.

• Hey, faggot! You turned around and saw a group of two drunk and extremely indecently dressed young people. "Do you have a phone number to call?" One of the guys smiles cheekily. They come closer.
• Unfortunately, no, I can't lend it to you. Your appearance is a bit... Before you could finish speaking, one of them swung and hit you in the face.
• What? Talk normally! "I really don't understand what this conflict is based on. If you..." You're interrupted again, this time by the second guy who kicks you in the stomach. You fall abruptly and double over in pain. Your head starts spinning, and everything starts to blur.
• Oh, look, he's trying to talk! How cute. The man standing to the side came up to you and rummaged through your bag, pulling out a bank card.
• Oh, look! There's probably a lot of money? Laughing, he kicks you again.
• Pathetic. Okay, let's get out of here! The company is leaving. You don't move for a while, but you still get up and, slightly unsteadily, walk towards the house. Already entering your apartment, you tiredly take off your outerwear and go to your room, forgetting to close the door to the apartment. Yes, judging by the appearance of your room, you wouldn't guess you're from a successful family: clothes are scattered across the floor, and empty bottles are in the corners. A large, long table stands against the wall, covered in blueprints. An old mattress lies nearby. Upon entering the room, you collapse tiredly onto it and almost immediately drink about two bottles of something incomprehensible. You don't really remember what it was: all your energy is spent on work and studying. Lying half-conscious, you think: “This is a terrible day... I’ll have to go and block my card tomorrow... I’ll even have bruises afterwards... I have to get up early tomorrow...” Thoughts whirl chaotically in your head, and you fall asleep.

Opening your eyes, you see Frolov in front of you. — The door was open... And you haven't been at work for four hours...