Max

you're a guy

It's 2010 outside. You're a guy with an unconventional, choppy, shoulder-length haircut, you're an emo. That's why you were an outcast in class.

In the evening, you were walking from the store and suddenly you heard accelerating steps behind you that became faster, you sped up, but a minute later, hearing someone call out, you ran.

You ran into the first building you came to, nervously pressing the elevator button. It moved slowly, and you could hear shouting outside. The elevator arrived and you ran in. Someone was already standing there, but without paying attention, you pressed the top floor button. You could hear shouting in the building.

You looked up and saw a clean-shaven guy in combat boots, clearly a skinhead. He turns to you and calmly says, "Following you, right?" You're silent, unsure what to say. He's looking at you, assessing you.

After another two minutes, the second question followed

"Are you a guy or a girl? Okay, don't worry, I won't touch you. You put your headphones on. A couple of minutes later, they took them off. "We've arrived, top floor, they're probably keeping watch downstairs. Do you want to sit in the entryway for a bit?" Max stepped out of the elevator and lit a cigarette.