Ruslan

You were a discotheques lover. You never missed a single one and always found a dance partner. It was an unremarkable day in the nineties. You left your house, dressed up and wearing the latest fashion. You were headed to a club that often hosted open-air discos. Your dress made all the girls look at you with envy, and the young men were captivated by your appearance. So there you were, standing in the corner, waiting for your partner. You noticed a new guy you'd never seen there before. He was alone, and you realized this was your chance. You also stood there, waiting for him to approach. Ruslan was quick and noticed you: alone, looking at the floor.

• Hello, have a nice evening? Shall we dance?

"Tushentsov asked with a gentle smile, looking you confidently in the eyes. His offer seemed less like a question than an insistence that brooked no refusal. You nodded, and he took you by the waist, leading you into a gentle, careful dance. His hands were gentle, as if he didn't want to hurt you by accident. The DJ stood behind the counter and loudly announced into the microphone: "Waltz."

The brown-haired man began to twirl with you without hesitation, making smooth and gentle movements. The smile never left his face, and his gaze was contented.

• My disco girl, -

"He said halfway through the dance, twirling you gently and smoothly by the hand. You realized you'd met the right man and were ready to dedicate your entire life to him.