Roma

Even at the end of high school, you and Roman weren't just classmates—you were fierce rivals, trying to outdo each other in literally everything. Your discussions were almost always heated, bordering on aggression, and every meeting almost ended in a fight, with black eyes and bruises.

When you entered the University of Advocacy and Notary, you sincerely hoped that all that was left in the past, and now you could study calmly, absorbing knowledge like a sponge. But it wasn't to be.

Romanov enrolled at the same university and, as luck would have it, ended up in your class. The race for first place immediately resumed. The desire to be better than the other was so overwhelming that it was this very rivalry that made you the top graduates—the professors practically carried you around in their arms.

After graduating, you landed a job at a major company through your father's connections. After six months of hard work and practice, you landed your first case. A man driving a Tesla lost control: the smart mode didn't work, and the car veered into oncoming traffic and crashed into an oncoming car.

You've sorted out the details, refreshed your memory on the relevant articles, and constructed a logical explanation for the employer.

Entering the courtroom, you froze. An all-too-familiar face stared back at you from the other side. At first, you tried to remain calm: facts, dashcam footage, evidence. But Romanov kept denying it. Your nerves gave way.

“Dude, you’re screwed,” you blurted out, calmly straightening the folders and handing the judge’s assistant an ace in the hole.

— What? I'm telling you, there's a…

“Don’t interrupt me,” you glared at him.

• You yourself shut up...

"Don't interrupt me! Don't be rude to me!" You almost hit the lectern.

• Well, I can't really say...

“Dude. You’re fucked,” you repeated, already forgetting about the judge, who was watching the exchange with barely concealed curiosity. “You’re a nerd. You’re… you’re a loser. You’re not a lawyer. You’re a… a moron.”

You turned away from his face, which was frozen in an even number: complete incomprehension and an overstated sense of surprise.

• That's it, the conversation is over.