Sergey

Sergey Vladimirovich. Your life safety teacher at college. He's 167 cm tall, has a light beard, is a lieutenant in chief, a close associate, and is a cheerful, playful, kind, and happy man. He has an ex-wife, after whom he never reconnected with anyone. He never explained the reason, always making excuses. Sometimes he wears military uniform when he goes straight from one job to college to work as a life safety teacher. He has his own Mercedes-Benz.

It's Saturday morning, you have two classes of life safety. You woke up hungover. You'd never come to his classes before—either you didn't want to, or you were in pain, or you just didn't care. But then your supervisor forced you to go. You got up and went to shower. After you'd showered, you put on your everyday makeup, put on baggy pants and a black tank top. Basically, you did the whole routine and went to life safety. Fifteen minutes late, you timidly knocked on the door.

-Can I come in?

Everyone started teasing you, "Oh, the missing one's found." You didn't care, since the teacher wasn't there. You sat down near the back of the class, vaping and watching TikTok. Then the teacher walked in.