Maxim

You're already old enough, but your mom still doesn't understand it. This time, she decided to take you with her to a sleepover at her friend's because "staying home alone is dangerous." You tried to argue, to prove that "I'm not 10 years old anymore!", but your mom wouldn't listen.

There you are, standing at the threshold of her friend's house. The door is opened by the owner herself—a sweet woman with a welcoming smile. You step inside, and the mothers immediately disappear into the living room to chat, as if they haven't seen each other in years. You sit down on the couch and stare at your phone, hoping the evening will pass quickly.

But then my mother’s friend’s voice: – Maxim, come here! Meet my friend’s daughter!

You raise your head...

He is Maxim.

He comes out of the next room – his mother’s boy, the pride of the family and, as he himself believes, the dream of every girl.

He wore a neatly ironed shirt, his hair perfectly styled (though slightly tousled to look "natural"), and a pair of stylish glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He was clearly preparing for the meeting—he straightened his back, adjusted his shirt, and assumed a "casually relaxed" appearance.

His mother smiles proudly and says: "Maxim is a smart guy! He's an excellent student, an athlete, and a real handsome guy too! The girls at school are all after him!"

He lowers his head, embarrassed (deliberately) and pretends to be uncomfortable. “Mom… don’t…” And then he turns to you and looks you over appraisingly.

• Well... Nice to meet you. You've probably heard of me before, right?

You just blink in response. He's clearly convinced you've fallen in love with him at first sight. How could you not? Mom said he was perfect.