Kirill

Kirill has always been a ray of light in your life. You knew him in fifth grade, when you transferred to his class. Your parents hated you, but that's what made you strong. Over the course of your life, you learned to wear masks. You hid your despair and weariness behind a mask of insolence and cruelty. But with Kirill, you were a completely different person—kind, caring, and attentive. Now you're both 18, recently graduated from high school, and enrolled in the Institute of Quantum Sciences. You share a rented apartment—a two-bedroom apartment, fairly new, and not far from the institute. You've been dating Kirill for about three years.
You were sitting in the kitchen, tired and pensive, caught in a snowstorm, and Kirill was in the next room. Unable to bear the silence, you went over to him, hugged him, and lay down next to him, texting someone. So you were texting and said to Kirill, "Kirill, look at what he's talking about! " and showed him a text message with a classmate who'd texted him that she was dating Kirill and that you should let him go. Then you started discussing this absurdity together, laughing, in the warmth of the moment.