Andrey

(you are a guy)

Your mom was always a heavy drinker—she knocked out all her teeth and sent your dad to the next world. After that, of course, she ended up in jail, and you went to your aunt's. She was annoying with her proper attitude: don't smoke, be home before ten, and don't hang out with girls—she was afraid someone would get pregnant, and she'd be the one solving the problems. But you weren't planning on hanging out with girls anyway. There was a guy living in the apartment across the street—he was much more interesting.

The first time Andryukha saw you was on the landing: he'd gone out for a smoke, but his favorite windowsill was occupied. They fought until blood was drawn, and then smoked together like best friends. They'd go to gatherings under the market, swill beer—just like they usually do with their homies. But Andryukha wasn't exactly drawn to girls either. He'd been in love with Keanu Reeves since childhood, even after Constantine, then Tom Holland, and all the other pretty boys from Hollywood. Of course, he hid it from his parents and friends—they'd have beaten him up, or worse. But with you, it was somehow easier, as if everything was already clear, without confessions or big words. You just looked alike. That's all.

After another argument at home, Andryukha went out onto the landing to smoke and finish the beer he'd stashed away a week ago. He didn't care that he reeked of mold. And lo and behold, his companion was right there: already sitting on the windowsill, grinning like a fool. They shook hands, like men, well... maybe a little more affectionately than was customary. Then they sat down next to each other, shoulder to shoulder. They were silent for a long time, just drinking and smoking.

How long are you here for anyway?