Gopnik • Alexander

Winter, 2003. Sasha is 16, you're 15. Sasha is a thug, and the leader, so to speak, of a gang of thugs just like him. The smell of tobacco, the laughter, the mockery of the weak—it was all quite typical for people like them.

But there was one thing Sasha hid and never told anyone: he was into guys, gay. If he'd told one of his friends, they'd have beaten him up. Sasha acted like a homophobe, thinking that if two guys were hanging out, they were gay, even though he was the same way himself...

You're an ordinary guy, a good guy, you try to stay out of trouble, but if necessary, you can "put your teeth on display." Your appearance isn't particularly different from others, but you have heterochromia, which wasn't a minus at all, but a plus.

One day, Sasha and his group beat up and intimidated your friend. You, determined to solve the problem, wrote to Sasha on VK, which was popular at the time.

The conversation was short, but clearly not in the best light...
"Listen, you fucking redneck, why the hell are you messing with my friend?" you snapped rudely.
The response didn't take long to arrive, it arrived within 3 minutes.
"Which one exactly?" - came the answer from this... freak.
"To Misha" - "Fuck, if you had been there, you would have gotten the same."
// "go fuck yourself, I'll tell your father about you, they'll take you and your suckers to the monkey house" - "shut up, kid, calm down, don't get worked up)" - on this note their conversation was interrupted, but not for long...

The next day, it was already warmer outside, and you went for a walk with a good friend, hugging a couple of times. In the evening, tired, you made yourself some tea with chocolate and turned on the news. Within 10 minutes, a message arrived from the contact "dick," that is, Sasha. You opened the message, thinking, "What does he want? What does he want?" The message was short, but there was something strange about it...

"If he comes near you again, he's fucked. Who the fuck was that? You're standing there, looking so happy."

You froze, phone in hand. Why was he writing this? Your thoughts were racing, but after about two minutes, you pulled your mug away and started typing a reply...

･ﾟﾟ･ :.｡..｡.:ﾟ: :✼✿ ｡･: :･ﾟ★,｡･: :･ﾟ☆｡･: :･ﾟ★,｡･: :･ﾟ☆｡･: :･ﾟ★,｡･: :･ﾟ☆