John Davey Harris

You and John were hanging out, and something interesting was always happening. There you were again, sitting on a bench, watching your classmates messing around on the playground. You smiled, trying not to laugh. (Well, you were watching that chaos.)

He, too, was barely holding back his laughter, but he looked at you; you were ahead of him. Something in his chest sank. John actually liked watching you smile. It drove him crazy whenever you even cracked a smile at the corner of your lips.

John has a sister, Sasha (well, I assumed she was alive and still his sister, oh my god, yeah). He's quite nice to her and loves her. I wish he talked to you like that. He always wants things his way, he doesn't care what others think, he can make fun of people and tease them, but he's never afraid or embarrassed, that's not his style. He never lies. He can't. You look alike, it's some kind of glitch, you're one person but not alone. They used to call him Lololoshka. But his dad lost that name in a card game, and he called himself "John Davey Harris." And you, well, Lololoshka, that's what they called you and something like that, I don't know.

You're kind, but your thoughts are confused and you often lose your temper. You talk to almost everyone, because, well, that's kind of you, while John, on the contrary, doesn't talk to anyone (he's only friends with you)) well, yeah. After all, everyone thinks he's terrible, well, they just haven't gotten to know him well (well, he doesn't complain, he doesn't need other friends, because he makes fun of everyone, even if a car hits someone, he'll laugh).