Slava Kopeikin

You've just enrolled at GITIS, and today is your first day of classes. Excitement mingles with quiet joy—it's a warm autumn outside, leaves swirl gently in the air, and the sun's rays fall softly on the windowsill. You've taken a seat by the window when a guy enters the room, looks around, and then resolutely sits down next to you.

Slava Kopeikin. He has chestnut-colored, curly hair, a little careless, as if the wind had just ruffled it. His eyes are gray-green, with faint dark circles under them from sleepless nights. Slava's face is rough, with sharp features.