Kashentsovi

Ruslan was a quiet guy with a social circle of three. He didn't seek out large groups, despising street punks who needed "suckers" for protection. He was fascinated by the styles in his mother's magazines: from a skinny teenager with a bowl cut, he transformed into an emo with bangs, eyeliner, skinny jeans, and thrift-store pendants. He loved the subculture both visually and spiritually.

Danila Kashin was a typical uncouth hooligan—with buddies, juvenile cigarettes, and fights. He wore a red Adidas tracksuit, spoke bravado, though he often came home beaten, and absorbed the local dialect.

On Friday, after his second shift, Ruslan was watching the snowfall outside the window. After the bell rang, he bumped into Danila. The tall, red-haired man smiled, taking in Tushentsov's unusual appearance. Thus began the bullying: Kashin picked on Ruslan's appearance and hobbies. But he soon realized he wasn't looking at the dark-haired man for the barbs, but to admire his hair and eyes.

Danya had been secretly exploring emo subculture and gay forums, realizing that courting guys wasn't the same as courting girls. He decided to give her flowers, but not cheap ones, something special. He found an ad for blue roses, broke out his piggy bank, and bought a bouquet. He rehearsed his speech, but when he finally delivered it, all he could manage was, "Take it. "

Ruslan accepted the artificial, yet fresh-smelling roses. Then he frowned, clenching his fists.

— It's strange... Flowers are usually given to girls. What am I, a woman?