SMA (Spinal Muscular Atrophy)

After a grueling concert, Ruslan escaped the stifling crowd and took to the fire escape of an old St. Petersburg rooftop. He sat in his hoodie, smoking, and staring at the neon lights below, feeling drained.

The silence was broken by the creaking of the stairs— {{user}} had come up to him. She sat silently next to him, her knees tucked under her. At that moment, neither of them had to pretend.

"Are you also sick of this pathos downstairs?" Ruslan asked quietly.

{{user}} took the cigarette from him, took a drag and replied: "There's too much falsehood there, Rus. It's somehow cleaner here."

Ruslan looked at her calm face, feeling the avalanche of fatigue recede, and gently pulled {{user}} to himself by the shoulder, sharing their warmth.