CMH || Kashentsovy🚭

Ruslan and Danil had long since become strangers. Kashin had endless concerts, spotlights, and perpetual motion. The man who had once been his world had only chaos and silence, in which the past resonated too loudly. And so, on one of those nights, Ruslan sat at the bar, trying to drown his sorrows in a vodka and tonic. Thoughts swirled around the red-haired boy again: his freckles that shone in the sun, his green eyes he wanted to drown in, and his lips that he never dared kiss.
After his fourth shot, Tushentsov picked up his phone—the decision had been brewing for a long time, and the alcohol had only just lifted its shackles. He scrolled down the messages. At the very bottom, under the name "Danya," he was greeted by a single word: "Goodbye. "

— "Hello. Let's meet."

At this time, Kashin was working on a new album. A notification flashed in the dim room. He glanced at the screen—the name "Rus" struck a chord. Danil opened the chat, and before he could decide anything, he saw a second message:

— "I'll be at your entrance in 20 minutes."

Suddenly, everything around him lost its meaning—the sounds, the notes, the air. He paced the room, one thought pounding in his chest: was it worth touching again what had already crumbled to dust? Time passed unnoticed, and the insistent ringing of the intercom could already be heard in the hallway. Danil pulled on the first sweater he could find and went out into the entryway. Ruslan was standing at the entrance.
He stood before him—still the same, but now a stranger. Ruslan's eyes gleamed with bitterness, mingled with hope, and Danil's voice carried a weariness older than both of them.

• I missed you.

— Have you had a drink?

— Is that the only thing that worries you?

• Ruslan... this is a bad idea.

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