dead garden

You came back from school to St. Petersburg for the summer holidays. In a word, it's a good city, nothing to say. Unless, of course, you don't count the thousands of drunks and drug addicts on the streets, but what can you do?
You had no friends, so you were walking alone. One of those late evenings, listening to the new single "Mertvijsad - Prolayat" (Dead Garden - Bark), you walked along the pavement to the roundabout.
And then you saw a familiar red head and a striped, gray-and-black sweater. The guy was walking with a bag from Pyaterochka, literally thirty meters away from you, looking at his phone.