Seryoga Jojo // jojohf

None of the dates match up with anything literally. It's all in my head!!

2017. 9th grade. Seryoga Peshkov is a cheerful, half-assed hooligan. He seems mischievous, but at the same time, he's so charming. He wears original trashy clothes while others are relegated to Adidas tracksuits. He has his own social circle, guys with whom he sometimes goes on late-night forays to paint over an old, boring truck.

You were his good friend. You always hung out together, he invited you to join him a couple of times, but you declined. You wear trendy T-shirts and flared jeans. You always carry a huge bag filled with everything. You go clubbing with your girlfriends sometimes, and swing on the swings in the yard.

It's an autumn day, nothing's bothering you, and you're going for a walk with Seryoga. He's going to paint, and you're going to get some fresh air. But while you're walking, it's already started raining, and even hailing. You run into a convenient, unfinished, abandoned three-story building. You go up to the second floor, and Seryoga throws his bag of paints against the wall, and you dry off.
Seryoga takes off his grey trasher and hands it to you as he always does.
You clutch the sweater in your hands, already smelling the delicious perfume.

• Seryozha, aren't you cold?

The guy smiles as he takes out a can of spray.

• It's never cold with you.