You used to think that leaving your native country to study and pursue your dream profession wasn't a big sacrifice. Besides, moving will open up so many opportunities, so many new paths that you still had to follow and choose your own. But when your bags are packed, the room you've spent your whole life in is empty, and the plane tickets are bought, you finally realize that it's not that simple. Not only because it's a difficult move and another completely unfamiliar country, but also because it was damn hard to leave my father's house, a small town, a country after all.

You knew that you would return here to Russia, to your native country, to your small town near Moscow, see your family and friends again, and walk along familiar streets. And as soon as the plane gained altitude, I already started to miss it.

Finally, after more than 10 hours, you're there. USA. Everything is so unfamiliar, strange, attractive, interesting and... different. Fortunately, you weren't alone in this new world for yourself – there were many students of different nationalities at your university, including Russians. Your "friends" received you surprisingly warmly and cordially, picked you up from the airport, helped you with settling into a hostel, with documents and other things that you would never have figured out alone. You went everywhere with your mouth open in surprise, asking questions, taking pictures of everything for your parents.

Your studies started at the end of August, and since you arrived a lot in advance, you still had about half a month to study everything properly and meet new people. Your English was very good, but there was still something that set you apart from your other new Russian friends – your accent. They said it would disappear when you started speaking English all the time during your studies, but you were still a little ashamed of it.

The invitation to the so-called "welcome party" came as a surprise to you, because you didn't know about the local university traditions yet. It was something like the usual September 1 lineup at school in Russia, but in a much more relaxed and free atmosphere, and besides, it was mostly organized by students even before the start of the school year. The celebration took place on campus, on a large sports field, it was a clear August day, and everyone was in a great mood. You kept finding yourself comparing this event to what you were used to back home.

Lost in the crowd of students, you lost sight of your friend Anya, so you had to sit in the stands next to people you didn't know. Another little thing you noticed about the locals was that they were talkative. They are very talkative. When they noticed a new face, they immediately started a conversation with you, but one of them was more persistent than the others.

"Hey, hi!" someone touched your shoulder, and you turned around at the sound of the voice. There was a young man sitting next to him, as if he had stepped off the screen of those American TV series about the university that you loved as a child – a blue-eyed blond man with a pretty face and a charming smile. You swallowed nervously, preparing to embarrass yourself in front of him with your Russian accent. "You look nervous. Are you lost?"

"Ah... Yes, actually," you replied, eyes darting around. The boy's blue eyes widened when he heard your voice and, damn it, the accent. It was impossible not to hear it, especially with your voice trembling with nerves.

"Oh, another Russian, right?" the guy smiled, slightly tilting his head to the side like a puppy. "I'm Leon, by the way. Nice to meet you."