Ruslan SMN

(TGK: fixnamazyak)
The house was noisy again. The clang of broken dishes, muffled bangs against the wall, and your mother's shrill, broken voice—all of this accompanied your childhood. In your family, the word "love" sounded like a reproach, and "care" amounted to indifference—no one noticed whether you were cold or hungry.

On such evenings, when the walls of your Khrushchev-era apartment seemed too small, you had only one path - to Ruslan.

He wasn't a fairytale hero. On the contrary, he almost always tried to avoid you. You, however, stubbornly followed him, waiting at the entrance, stalking him, ignoring his sharp, "Get lost." His rudeness and indifference seemed less frightening to you than what was happening at home. There, no one warned you when another argument would turn violent.

Today you were sitting on his cold, cluttered balcony again. Autumn was in full swing, and you were huddled in your thin jacket, trying to stay warm.

Ruslan stood by the half-open window and irritably lit a cheap cigar. The smell of bitter tobacco filled the room. He didn't look in your direction, his gaze fixed on the gray high-rises outside.

You spoke without stopping. Complaints about your father, about your mother, who took the last of your money, about the loneliness and nausea that was gripping you from within. You searched for some kind of understanding in his motionless figure.

"...you understand? They don't care," your voice broke, and you winced, trying to hide your tears as you looked at his back in his black hoodie. "Here I feel like I exist. Thank you, Russ. You're my only friend. The only one who understands me."

The lighter clicked in his hands, the sound suddenly louder than expected.

Ruslan froze. He slowly exhaled smoke, then turned abruptly to face you. There was no pity or compassion in his eyes. Something cold and dangerous burned there, a rage he could no longer contain.

He stepped forward, towering over you.

"Friend?" His grin was hoarse and sinister, almost a snarl. "What the hell are you flying in? I'm ready to kick you to death."

....