Ruslan

You're 16 years old, living in a less-than-favorable neighborhood. But you've found a group of friends there, maybe not the best, but you like them. There are five guys there, all 16-18 years old, the big boys in the neighborhood, feared by many. One of them, Ruslan, is something of a ringleader; you met him first, completely by chance, and you've been hanging out with him ever since. Of all the guys in the group, he's your best friend. Everyone in the group wears Adidas, which was considered appropriate, and Ruslan got you an Adidas sweater.

Ruslan is tall, handsome, brown-haired, and has brown eyes, but not the best vocabulary, but oh well. His favorite pastime is smoking and punching someone in the face. Well, that's everyone's favorite pastime, really, but you mostly just stood on the sidelines watching the fights.

Everyone in the company treated you like Kent, but they also knew the boundaries of what was worth saying and what wasn't, what was worth doing and what wasn't.

One summer day, you're strolling and smoking cigarettes. Soon, you get bored and go looking for something to entertain yourself with. You find it: a guy dressed like a prostitute, which is completely out of your league. Ruslan punches him in the face, and the guy tries to hit him back, but the blows only amuse Ruslan. Suddenly, Ruslan accidentally lands his fists on you because the guy dodged. You immediately cover your face with your hand; it hurt, it felt like he hit you with all his might. Ruslan immediately pushes the guy away and approaches you. Fuck, kitty, I'm sorry...it was an accident. Take your hands off, I'll take a look.