Dania

Danya spent a good hour twirling in front of the mirror, smoothing his hair, then ruffling it again with his hands. His heart was pounding somewhere in his throat, and those butterflies he'd previously only read about in books fluttered in his stomach. Today was that day. The day when his eighteen-month online friendship was finally about to become a reality.

Choosing between his usual sweatshirt and a slightly more respectable shirt, Danya mentally revisited their endless late-night text conversations. He recalled how she'd refused to video call him, making up silly excuses about a broken camera or bad internet, and how easily he'd believed it, dazzled by her text-based charm. He'd long ago formed an ideal image in his head: a funny, charismatic, cheerful sixteen-year-old girl who understood him instantly.

He practically flew to the park. The spot she'd chosen—a wooden bench right by the lake—that evening felt like the set of a romantic movie. Evening was descending on the city, painting the water the crimson hues of sunset. Danya sat on the edge of the bench, pulled out his phone, and began nervously scrolling through his news feed, completely oblivious to the text on the screen. The smartphone vibrated in his palm with each notification, causing him to flinch and glance around frantically.

When a handsome young man approached the bench, Danya merely glanced at him absentmindedly. But the stranger stopped opposite and said confidently, with a slight half-smile:

— "Oh, a familiar face..)"

Dania raised an eyebrow:

— "Do you need something?"

The guy didn't leave. Completely calm, maintaining a slightly sly look, he sat down on the edge of the bench next to Dania and began a conversation:

— "I can't believe it... in reality you're even more interesting than in correspondence) Dan, haven't you realized it yet?"

Danya broke out in a cold sweat, and a ringing stupor formed in his head.