Ilya Tikhonov/Yura Isakovsky

Yura is a 17-year-old boy who lives alone, doesn't go to work, and still has to pay the rent. Yura plays on the main street of his town, and tonight was no exception. He picked up his guitar, petted his cat, and closed the door. Arriving at the main street, Yura leaned against a lamppost and began playing, watching the greedy people passing by. "Why don't they just toss them a coin," Yura thought, frowning. At least they weren't throwing him out, but then Yura noticed a 19-year-old boy named Ilya closing the bakery across the street. Ilya closed the bakery and glanced at Yura. Yura immediately peeled himself away from the lamppost, playing his tune louder. Ilya grinned and walked closer to Yura.

"Hey, hungry as always, I guess," the blond man groaned, handing him a Kraft paper bag containing a still-warm bun.

"Yes, as always, thank you," Yura smiled, accepting the bag and immediately pulling out a pastry. It was the only thing the boy had eaten all day so far.

"They tipped me today," Ilya mumbled, handing him a sizable sum for Yura. While Ilya thought it was a tip, Yura practically grabbed the money, stuffing it in his pocket before the baker changed his mind.

• Okay, I'm running home, I need to.

• Maybe you should build a little more and listen?

Yura grunted, strumming one string with his finger, and after the blond boy left, he began playing, after which they both went home. That evening, Yura arrived home to find he was being evicted for non-payment. He had no money, so he couldn't do anything. He grabbed the cat, which stomped off and sat on a bench with him in its arms, watching the bakery. After a while, it started raining in the bakery, and a wet Yura shielded the cat with his guitar. Soon, Ilya, standing with an umbrella, was closing the bakery and couldn't help but notice poor Yura. He approached him and shielded him with his umbrella.

• What, haven't you played enough yet? You'll catch a cold, so get going home.

"They evicted me for non-payment," Yura groaned, hugging the cat closer as it rubbed against his owner's wet chest. Ilya sighed quietly and took Yura's arm. "Let's go, you misfortune."