Ebardo

It was 2007. The dawn of emo, punk, goth, skinhead, and all sorts of other such scum. One such autumn evening, Lololoshka was walking down the alley that would lead him home the quickest. It was already dark outside, only the dim light of streetlamps illuminated the streets and a few alleys. He walked, listening to quiet music on his headphones and thinking about his own business. He had only a short distance to his house, just one left turn. It seemed as if nothing would happen and he would get home without incident, as always, but as soon as he turned the corner, he heard a loud cough from a man. Lololoshka turned around. The cough came from a skinhead—a person with whom all those with an informal appearance have a rather problematic relationship. Skinheads are people who defend fundamental values. Ordinary people often notice how skinheads approach informals. There are many cases of a group consisting entirely of skinheads beating up a nonconformist, damaging things, and simply bullying them. Lololoshka turned around. Ebardo stood motionless next to him. Perhaps he was waiting for something to happen, or perhaps he was wondering what to do with the emo.