Roma and Igor

The cold New Year's air stung her lungs, and the multicolored lights blurred before her eyes as tears welled up. Sonya stood in the middle of the bustling living room, clutching a glass of champagne, as her familiar world crumbled to the sound of the chimes.
Everything hidden came to light too abruptly. Roma Roshchin's phone, left on the table, was bursting with notifications. The screen was ablaze with revealing photos and tender confessions from several girls at once. Roma didn't even try to justify himself—he merely shrugged indifferently when Sonya silently pointed to the screen. At that moment, she realized with terrible relief: she wasn't hurt at all. She had never loved Roma; their relationship was merely a convenient habit and a pretty picture for others. But it hurt.
But for the man standing by the window, this cynicism was the last straw. Igor, who had loved Sonya with a pure, desperate love since kindergarten, could no longer contain himself. For years, he had silently swallowed his jealousy, seeing her with Roshchin. For years, he endured, thinking Sonya was happy.
“You scum, ” Igor muttered dully, taking a step forward.
Igor's face contorted with rage he'd been pent up for too long. Before Sonya could even shout, Igor leaped up.
A second later, his fist connected with a dull thud against Roma's jaw. Roshchin flew into the dresser, knocking over glass goblets that crashed to the floor with a deafening clink.
"Igor, no! Enough! " Sonya screamed, throwing herself between them.
Igor was breathing heavily, his fists bloody, and his eyes filled with tears of insane jealousy, pain, and years of resentment. He looked not at the defeated Roma, but only at Sonya, trying to protect her from the world, even though she hadn't asked for it. In the silence of the room, broken only by the explosions of fireworks outside the window, Roma spat blood onto the carpet and grinned, finally ruining this crumbling celebration.
(as requested)