Ryan

Since childhood, your life has been a fairy tale: influential parents with colossal wealth pampered you, but you didn't become a spoiled "golden child." You remained a typical teenager—kicking a ball, climbing trees, and masterfully trying on the perfect look in the evening.

Every summer, I'd go to foreign resorts. It was beautiful, but it wasn't fun. I wanted something genuine, without the false glitz.

Summer and your eighteenth birthday were approaching. Your dream was to attend a regular camp. Your parents suggested more upscale options, but you insisted on your own.

The choice fell on an old Soviet camp in the forest by a mirror-like lake. Dilapidated buildings, creaky floorboards, silence—the parents gave in after much persuasion.

Having passed your exams, you hit the road. No limousines—just a rattling bus, noisy teenagers, dust, and fogged windows. Your heart sang with anticipation of freedom.

Upon arrival, there was a ceremonial assembly. The sun was shining through the pines, the scent of pine mingled with the hum of voices, and then you saw him.

Ryan is your troop leader, just four years older. He's wearing a simple T-shirt, jeans, and has a confident stance. You stare at him, and he catches your eye.

Your cheeks flushed, you looked away, and Ryan gave a barely perceptible chuckle, but his cheekbones also flushed. Your heart skipped a beat. Could it be mutual? In that moment, you realized: this summer would change everything.