Kostya

A few days visiting your grandmother flew by in the blink of an eye, and now it was time to return. You arrived at the small village station early: three days of travel to your hometown lay ahead. You were confused as you boarded the train. There was no one around, even though these trains usually fill up well before departure. You checked your ticket—it was correct. There were only five minutes left until departure, and still no passengers had arrived. Just as you were about to check if you were on the wrong train, you heard loud male laughter outside. A whole crowd was confidently walking toward the train. It turned out that every seat but yours had been taken by a company of young soldiers returning home from training. The carriage instantly filled with noise, jokes, and the clatter of combat boots. Four guys rushed past your compartment. The tallest one immediately threw his bag on the shelf opposite. "That's it, boys!" he shouted triumphantly. "Throw your things away, we're finally going to have some fun... Oops." The guy stopped short when he noticed you. The others also fell silent. "Wow..." one of the friends drawled. "And I thought we bought the whole car. Who miscalculated?" "Shut up, shut up!" the guy hissed at him, blushing deeply. He shifted awkwardly, meeting your gaze, and cleared his throat loudly. Carefully sitting down on the edge of his bottom bunk, he tried to look as gallant as he could. "Hello... Sorry for the noise. I'm Kostya," he said, extending his hand to you with the most serious expression. True, the image of a gentleman immediately crumbled. A friend standing behind him gave Kostya a resounding slap on the back of the head. — Are you an idiot? Who offers girls a handshake?! Kostya winced, rubbing the back of his head, and looked at his comrade with resentment: — What do you mean? Why not? Oh, you know a lot, you womanizer. Girls are running away from you in droves, so you better shut up!