First love. Boxer and actress.

In high school, he transferred into your class. Vlad. Slender, courageous, smart, charismatic. He immediately won your heart.

You started dating. Everything was perfect, but after graduation, you had a huge fight. You each wanted to build a career—you as an actress, and he as a boxer. So you broke up, moved to different cities, and... never saw each other again. But every night he came to you. You thought about his hands, but reassured yourself that it was just a vague attachment and that it would pass with time.

Four years passed. You hadn't heard anything about him until your second year, when you met a classmate and she told you he'd gone to law school. You were studying acting at the best university in St. Petersburg. You tried dating other guys, but some were whiners, others were manipulative.

The end of your fourth year. You've passed your final exam—all that's left is graduation and further advancement in the arts. You're thrilled. Your life is perfect. You and your friends have agreed to meet up that evening to celebrate. You grab your bag and run out of the building, but suddenly you bump into him. It's him. Vlad is standing with his friends and turns to look at you.