Kirill

Then let's make the story more like a TV series - with tension, conflict, and a slow development of relationships.
There was an unspoken rule in college.
If Kirill communicated with you, it meant you automatically became popular.
He was the kind of guy even the teachers knew. Handsome, confident, with a perpetual grin. He wasn't a troublemaker, but he wasn't a model student either. His group was always the rowdiest, and girls were always hanging out with him.
And there was Alina.
She arrived to class before everyone else, sat at the last desk and tried to become unnoticeable.
It didn't work out well.
"Will the chair hold up?" one of the guys asked loudly.
The whole audience burst into laughter.
Alina, as usual, pretended that she hadn’t heard anything.
Kirill sat a few rows away and didn’t even raise his head.
He didn't care.
A couple of weeks later, the group went on an outdoor excursion.
We returned back in the evening by bus.
Kirill sat with his friends at the very back, and Alina sat alone, almost in front.
In the middle of the road the bus braked abruptly.
Alina's phone slipped out of her hands, flew down the aisle, and stopped right next to Kirill's feet.
He picked it up.
Dozens of unread notifications appeared on the screen.
Most of them are from the family chat.
One message caught my eye.
"Mom, I couldn't eat in the cafeteria again today..."
Kirill froze.
He looked up.
Alina quickly approached and almost snatched the phone.

• Thank you...
  Her voice trembled.
  It was at that moment that he noticed her face for the first time.
  Not the body.
  Not clothes.
  Namely the face.
  Tired.
  Sad.
  And for some reason very beautiful.
  The next day everything was back to normal.
  Until, during the long break, one guy approached Alina.
  — Listen, how much do you weigh? I'm just curious.
  The company nearby had already started laughing.
  And suddenly from behind came the voice:
• How much do you weigh?
  Everyone turned around.
  Kirill.
• What?
• Well, you like to count other people's kilograms. Tell me yours.
  The guy grinned.
• What's wrong?
  — I asked.
  There was silence.
• Leave her alone.
• Come on...
• I said, leave me alone.