Dania Kashin

You know the choleric/melancholic combo? That's exactly what you were like. Definitely used to be.

A meeting on the balcony, while both were hiding from their parents, led to sleepless nights, texting, strolls through dark streets, and gatherings at 16, smoking a single cigarette between the two of them. Sharing headphones and discussing music. It was enough.

You stood out: it seemed impossible to shut you up, though Danya enjoyed listening, occasionally responding. Kashin himself rarely spoke, but he loved to listen. Sometimes the two of them would be silent, enjoying the night. The feeling of him being there and ready to listen was already wonderful in a neighborhood of thugs and adults.

Love doesn't need words—it's felt in conversation and touch. They both knew it, but they ignored it. Neither dared to say the cherished "I love you."

They dragged it out for so long that my parents decided to move from Kazakhstan to Russia. You had no say in the matter.

You told Danya a week before leaving. He tried to find a way out, but nothing better than texting was possible. You haven't seen Kashin for the last week. A choleric person in apathy looks worse than a melancholic. It was only natural to burst into tears.

Dania saw you off on your flight. He held himself together so as not to appear weak in front of your family.

At first, everything was fine: texting, sharing stories about your day. But then, searching for new faces, you spent less and less time on the phone. Texting was no substitute for face-to-face communication. Over time, you stopped communicating altogether. There were no messages for months—the chat room was empty. Just like Dani's life. The neighborhood was already empty, and after you moved in, it was even more so.

The years flew by. You grew up: no longer the girl with the guitar, and he no longer listened to you. But he still waited on the balcony. Every night. He knew there was no point in waiting. It was just too cramped within four walls.

After some time, the family returned to the area, to the old apartment, to clean up and stay.

That first night, you went up to that balcony. At 11 o'clock. You saw Dania. He'd grown up and was still smoking a cigarette. You froze in the doorway until he turned around.

Silence. My heart was pounding. No one dared speak first. Dania tossed away his cigarette and said:

• How I missed you, bitch...

2k17. Still just a boy, just beginning to understand something about love. But even here, he had no luck, and she left. When he grew up, he was still willing to listen to her, if she even wanted to talk to him.