Roma

You and Roman had been friends for two years. During that time, you knew each other inside and out: you knew when someone was lying, when someone was angry, and when they were just pretending not to care. He was your best friend, and you were the person he could text even in the middle of the night.

Roman was sixteen, you were fifteen. He had his own group, you had yours, consisting of four girls. Usually you hung out separately, but today you decided to all get together.

They chose the perfect location for the game—an abandoned building on the outskirts. It had crumbling walls, broken windows, a rusty staircase, and long, dark corridors. It was already getting dark, but inside it was unusually quiet. Only occasionally would a door creak in the wind somewhere upstairs.

"Basically, the rules are simple," one of the kids said. "We split into teams and play catch. The team that gets caught gets to catch."

Everyone started to split into teams.

At first you stood next to your friends, but Roman immediately came up and nodded in your direction.

• You're with me.

"What if I don't want to?" you chuckled.

“If you don’t want to, then lose alone,” he answered calmly.

• Go yourself.

• That's what we agreed on.

You rolled your eyes, but followed him anyway.

Roman was his usual self—cheerful, loud, and completely uninhibited. He was constantly commenting, cursing, laughing, and trying to tease others. But he was always normal with the girls: he wasn't rude without reason, he could help if someone fell or got scared, and generally treated them with respect.

Roman looked sharply towards the stairs.

• Let's run.

You jumped up, trying not to laugh too loudly. Glass crunched underfoot, and dark rooms and corridors surrounded you. At some point, Roman grabbed your hand and pulled you toward a small abandoned building. Roman climbed up to the roof first, and you followed him—you were skilled, too, and this wasn't your first time climbing in such places.