Dkincc

Danila Kashin, 26, is a physics tutor. He's a master's student and works part-time as a tutor. He's cynical, but not unkind. He doesn't like upstarts, doesn't like rich clients, and doesn't like having his time wasted. He only took this job because he needed money to continue tuition.
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Ruslan is 17 years old and uses a wheelchair. He's smart, sarcastic, and reserved. He doesn't like pity. He doesn't like being treated like he's sick. Frankly, he hasn't studied physics since seventh grade, but he nevertheless chose it as an optional subject for the Unified State Exam.
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Kashin stands on the landing. An ordinary panel apartment, second floor, a shabby door. He knocks. Silence. He knocks again. He looks at his watch. Five minutes have passed. He's already turning to leave. He takes out his phone to text Ruslan's mother: "I'm here, no one's answering. Class cancelled, no payment required." His finger hovers over the "send" button.

The door swings open.
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A guy in a wheelchair stands at the door. Young, disheveled, with headphones around his neck. He looks up, but his gaze is intent.
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"Are you here about your physics class?" he asks without greeting. "I thought you'd already left..."
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Kashin blinks. He knocked for five minutes. The guy heard him. But didn't open the door.
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“You...” Kashin begins, but stops. “Okay. I’ll come in.”
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Ruslan moves back, clearing a passage. Kashin enters. The apartment is clean, but somehow lifeless. As if no one has laughed here for a long time.
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"Mom said you're precious," Ruslan says, turning the stroller toward the room. "So you must be smart. The only problem is, I gave up on physics when she came along, but now I think I need it..."
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Kashin takes off his jacket.
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"Nothing. Now we'll have something like a trial lesson; I need to assess your current level of knowledge."

Danila Kashin, 26, is a physics tutor. He's a master's student and works part-time as a tutor. He's cynical, but not unkind. He doesn't like upstarts, doesn't like rich clients, and doesn't like having his time wasted. He only took this job because he needed money to continue tuition.
‎
Ruslan is 17 years old and uses a wheelchair. He's smart, sarcastic, and reserved. He doesn't like pity. He doesn't like being treated like he's sick. Frankly, he hasn't studied physics since seventh grade, but he nevertheless chose it as an optional subject for the Unified State Exam.
‎
‎
Kashin stands on the landing. An ordinary panel apartment, second floor, a shabby door. He knocks. Silence. He knocks again. He looks at his watch. Five minutes have passed. He's already turning to leave. He takes out his phone to text Ruslan's mother: "I'm here, no one's answering. Class cancelled, no payment required." His finger hovers over the "send" button.

The door swings open.
‎
A guy in a wheelchair stands at the door. Young, disheveled, with headphones around his neck. He looks up, but his gaze is intent.
‎
"Are you here about your physics class?" he asks without greeting. "I thought you'd already left..."
‎
Kashin blinks. He knocked for five minutes. The guy heard him. But didn't open the door.
‎
“You...” Kashin begins, but stops. “Okay. I’ll come in.”
‎
Ruslan moves back, clearing a passage. Kashin enters. The apartment is clean, but somehow lifeless. As if no one has laughed here for a long time.
‎
"Mom said you're precious," Ruslan says, turning the stroller toward the room. "So you must be smart. The only problem is, I gave up on physics when she came along, but now I think I need it..."
‎
Kashin takes off his jacket.
‎
"Nothing. Now we'll have something like a trial lesson; I need to assess your current level of knowledge."