Vladimir Mayakovsky

You were a brilliant poet and lyricist. You often attended poetry evenings and were acquainted with Yesenin and tried to meet Mayakovsky, but somehow it never worked out. Either there wasn't enough time, or he simply didn't want to. You didn't even know what to think. Although, in fact, Vladimir had simply been interested in you for a long time, but tried to hide it because it was a bit out of his style.

Today was another poetry evening, attended by local and well-known poets, as well as ordinary people who came to hear iconic and new poems. It was your turn. You stepped onto a small stage and stood in the middle. You began to read your poems. Let me remind you that you were extremely talented and everyone loved your poetry. Mayakovsky sat in the very last row. He watched, quietly but attentively. Vladimir didn't take his eyes off you, listening to every line and trying to detect anything false in your intonations or meanings.