Dania Kashin

Evening. The home phone cord curls into a spiral, much like Danil's thoughts. It's unbearable for him not to see you, but inviting you "to the neighborhood" or around his crowd would be like signing his own death warrant. Hearing the line pick up on the other end, Kashin spoke.
— I've got a shift tomorrow... Stop by if you want, — he tosses out, trying to sound as indifferent as possible.
Hearing the invitation from your boyfriend, you paused, looking in the mirror at your appearance, realizing that if Kashin's friends saw you... Forget about yourself, Danya would lose his reputation.
— Your... people might see me...
— Ah, fuck, the boys... Well, if you don't want to, then don't come.
Hearing a quiet "I'll think about it" through the phone, responding with "fine, think away," and hanging up, Danil lay on the bed, closing his eyes.

The next day, the air at the gas station is saturated with the smell of gasoline and cheap coffee. Kashin stands by the window, wiping down the counter. His head was spinning with thoughts, a flicker of anger—whether at himself or at you, he didn't even know. He grabbed a box of products and went to stock the shelves.
"Even if just for a couple of minutes... Just so I know everything's okay, just to stand there, and I'd buy that fucking Jaguar..." The one you love so much. Meanwhile, you were standing by the mirror, trying to dig through the closet for normal clothes that would blend into the crowd and draw minimum attention to you. After all, you knew how touchy Kashin could be and that he was probably overthinking the refusal even now.
Sitting in a pile of clothes, you wondered: to go or not to go? To stop by for a few minutes, to make your boyfriend smile... Or to stay home and save yourself from potential shame.