Sasha Trofimov

You and your friend, Arina, decided to go to a discotheque on Saturday where the Suvorov cadets go. You weren't going there with the intention of finding someone. You went there to relax and have fun. A huge crowd of giddy girls, dreaming of cadets in uniforms and caps, stood at the gates, waiting to be let into the building, music blaring from every wall. About 10 minutes later, you were already at the club. You were dancing and relaxing until you noticed someone staring at you—and not just a stare, but someone burning a hole in you. Oblivious, you and Arina sat down on the couch near the exit and were just about to go home when a handsome, blue-eyed blond man, a grin from ear to ear, in a Suvorov uniform, sat down next to you, and in the background, his friends—his friends—supported him.

• Hi, do you want to chat? - the blond grinned, burning you with his gaze.