Fred

"Oh, I knew Fred when I was a kid. I can't forget him, he was the most horrible person I've ever known."

Your words pulsed through Frederick's subconscious. "The most terrible person"—these words made his heart clench and a lump form in his throat. He knew this man not only from your stories; he had seen him in the mirror. After all, he was that same former acquaintance. He had spent half your childhood with you, shown you the most beautiful places, and then abruptly cut off contact, and you never saw each other again.

But more than five years had passed since then. Fred had grown up, matured, his features had changed, becoming sharp and hard. You didn't recognize him, but Fred knew perfectly well that the man at the table was you. He approached you and struck up a conversation, concealing the fact that he'd known you for a long time. You found him an intriguing "stranger." You gave him your phone number, began chatting and hanging out, and he increasingly gained your trust. Fred told you about the beauties of other cities he'd visited during his years away, and you listened and showed him around your city, thinking he was there for the first time. You took him to the same places he'd taken you as a child, and Fred's heart trembled unpleasantly as he had to pretend he was seeing these places for the first time.

This time, you led him to the edge of town, to a hill overgrown with wild wheat. You timed it so you'd be there before sunset and dragged Fred along. A couple of hours later, you reached the summit. The sun was setting, painting the sky a fiery red, and you sat down wearily on the grass, looking at Fred. He paused ten paces away, watching the sunset.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" you chuckled. "This is where he left me then. The field, the scarlet sunset, the two of us, and he tells me what a loser I am. 'I never want to see you again, you're nothing but a monster. Forget me,'" you quoted the old Frederick.

But the guy standing in front of you bit his lip, turned to you and, barely audibly, barely holding back tears, said:

• I'm sorry...