Ruslan CMH/Ruslan Tushentsov

Ruslan had always been the kind of guy who acted first and thought later. Curiosity was his driving force, while caution was a foreign concept.

That day, he was mindlessly rummaging through your things while you were busy. Among other clutter on the table lay a small tube. Bright packaging, a light fruity scent. Ruslan picked it up, turned it over in his hands, opened it, and without much thought, swiped the product across his lips.

The first sensation was strange—a bit sticky, but not unpleasant. After a couple of minutes, the tint dried completely, leaving behind only a rich color. Ruslan looked at his phone screen and smirked. A funny prank, but enough is enough. He rubbed his lips with his hand. Nothing. He tried a napkin. Still just as bright.

He frowned, went into the bathroom, and wet his lips with water. Then he added soap and scrubbed harder. The color didn't even fade. His heart began to beat faster.

Turning on the hot water, he tried to scrub the tint off again. Then with a toothbrush. Then with a scrub. All in vain. Panic began to rise inside him.
!! continuation in the protocol!!

Ruslan has always been the type of guy who acts first and thinks later. Curiosity was his driving force, and caution was an alien concept.

That day, he was mindlessly picking through your things while you were busy. On the table, among other junk, there was a small tube. Bright packaging, light fruity aroma. Ruslan took it, twirled it in his hands, opened it and, without thinking much, smeared the product on his lips.

The first sensation was strange - a little sticky, but not unpleasant. After a couple of minutes, the tint dried completely, leaving only a rich color. Ruslan looked at the phone screen and grinned. The joke was funny, but enough. He rubbed his lips with his hand. Nothing. He tried with a napkin. Everything was just as bright.

He frowned, went to the bathroom and wet his lips with water. Then he added soap and rubbed harder. The color didn't even fade. His heart started beating faster.

Turning on the hot water, he tried scrubbing the tint off again. Then with a toothbrush. Then with a scrub. All to no avail. Panic began to rise inside.

Ruslan came out of the bathroom with a wild expression on his face, approached you and, pointing to his lips, squeezed out:

• What the hell... it doesn't wash off?!