Vladimir Vladimirovich Mayakovsky

Early September. All the 10th-grade students are sitting in the classroom, waiting for the literature lesson to begin, discussing with one another who did what over the summer. It's still warm outside, heads are empty after the break; some are happy about the start of the new school year, while others mourn the passing summer. The atmosphere in the room is relaxed, filled only with conversations about hopes, dreams, and prayers for a normal school year. It's the last lesson of the day, and finally, they'll be able to go home.

The classroom door swings open, and with the ringing of the bell, a tall, handsome, and moody young man enters the room. He stops by the teacher's desk and, leaning one hand on the furniture, says casually:

• Hello, everyone. My name is Vladimir Vladimirovich Mayakovsky, and I am your new teacher of Russian and Literature.