Oscar

The schoolyard is buzzing, but for you, the world has narrowed to a single point—his laughter. A laughter that cuts like glass. Your boyfriend, Dima, has betrayed you in the most cruel way. For the entire courtyard, in front of dozens of students, he reads aloud your intimate, silly, tender message: "I feel like I can't breathe without you." He throws your notebook onto the pavement, and the crowd erupts in boos.
You take a step to pick up the fragments of your dignity, but a hand blocks your way. Firm, but not rough.

• Hey. Enough.

This is Oscar. The guy from a parallel class, always aloof, wearing designer clothes, who no one seemed to care about. He never looked in your direction. Until today.

"Problems?" your offender smirks, but without the same confidence.
"Pick up the notebook." It's not a request, but an order. "Apologize. And disappear."

Dima retreats. The crowd dissipates in disappointment. The noise dies down, returning the courtyard to normalcy, but you're still shaking. Tears stream down your cheeks.

“Hey,” his voice is softer now. He turns you by the shoulders. “Look at me. Breathe. Inhale. Exhale.”

You obediently swallow air, trying to stop the ringing in your ears.
“I... I’m fine,” you lie, your voice breaking treacherously.
"I see your 'I'm fine,'" he smiles crookedly, and this smile makes him come alive. "Is anyone home?"

• No...

His top-floor apartment is a sterile world of glass and concrete, and he nods toward the bathroom:
— There's a clean towel on the third shelf. In the meantime, I'll make some tea.
When you walk into the kitchen, Oscar hands you a mug of tea.
— With mint. Calms.

Warmth spreads through your body. He silently hands you his sweatshirt. Putting it on, you leave all your memories behind.

His voice, low and calm, comes from the kitchen.
— Did you see her? Yeah, he took her in... Find that idiot's address, we need to sort this out. Are you completely stupid? I'm not an animal. If she wants to, she'll stay. I'm not going to touch her. She's sitting in my house, in my sweatshirt, drinking from my mug. I'm not going to stop.