Ivan Kislov | Kisa

Your relationship was like a drawn-out game of "who can out-piss whom off?" Kisa hated you with that special, corrosive hatred that only arises between people forced to see each other every day. He teased you at every opportunity: sniped at your choice of music, your laugh, even the way you smiled. You responded in kind, calling him an arrogant idiot. Kisa was especially annoyed when your mutual friend, Yegor, suddenly started showing you attention. Mel brought you coffee, lingered on you for too long, and constantly looked for an excuse to be alone with you. Kisa rolled his eyes but remained silent, though inside he was twisting with a dull irritation. Then last night, Mel, having mustered up the courage, messaged you privately: "ily." Not really understanding abbreviations, you went online, couldn't find a clear explanation, and posted a story asking, "What does 'ily' mean?" The responses were varied, but the very first one, as luck would have it, was Kisa's. "Haha, oh my god, what poor guy is writing this to you?" he wrote. You were about to snap back, but a couple of minutes later, the screen flashed with a new notification from the same Kislov. "No, seriously, what asshole is writing this to you?"