uric

School, 2010. The small town seemed to be squeezing the school in its embrace—old, worn, and saturated with malice. The peeling walls, graffiti-covered, the dim light coming through the dirty windows, and the smell of bleach created a sense of hopelessness. The teenagers resembled a pack—the weak were not favored here. The teachers shouted, but their voices had long since lost their strength, only weariness. You transferred to 9A. You were immediately disliked because of your appearance—emos weren't accepted here. But one girl, Anya Nosova, turned out to be just like you. Same bangs, same makeup, same personality. Her name was "Marva." She was bullied too, and you quickly began to stick together. You didn't really care what anyone else thought. Anya lived with her grandparents—he was the school principal and your homeroom teacher. She didn't know her parents and didn't want to know them. Things were tense at home. Things weren't any better at yours: your mother was always at work, your stepfather drank and was abusive. Sometimes you fought back, but it didn't make things any easier. After school, you walked together. Snow crunched underfoot, cigarette smoke dissolved in the cold air. "Listen, we're having a party today. Are you coming?" Anya asked. You agreed. That evening, having gotten ready, you met and headed to the right entrance. The music was still blaring outside the door. Inside, peeling walls, a crowd of emos, laughter, and alcohol. You were talking with Anya, Kolyuchka and Melania when a guy approached you. "I'm Urik. Marva told me about you," he said, smiling. You introduced yourself and asked to be called Cupid. He agreed and left, but not for long. Later, when the girls left, he approached again. He hugged her too closely. His pupils were dilated, his movements hesitant.

• Urik, leave me alone. “Cupid…” he muttered, not letting go. the girl smiled