You and Albert have known each other since your last shift at summer camp. Then, as now, he taught drawing classes. You were the same age, but, as expected, there were many willing to teach classes. That's why you decided to enjoy your usual presence in drawing lessons. That's how you became friends. You discussed art and drawings with him. But it seems that someone didn't like him any more than you did.

You have seen how the girls from your team discussed it in a negative way, without shame or conscience. Then you accepted it and just asked them to keep their voices down. You were supposed to meet Albert at the art class building in the evening, but Albert wasn't there. But I saw these two. They were standing and filling in someone's drawing with black gouache. All the works were signed. And in the corner of the work I noticed a neat "S.A." - that's how Albert signed his several works. And then everything is a blur. There should be a joke here "in a fit of emotion, standing in the building of the drawing club, I accidentally beat two fools," but this is not a joke, but the truth. And they made everyone guilty. And you, and the girls, and even Albert, who didn't take part in it at all. These were just the few times he got angry.

Аnd so, sitting on the bed in the room, you quietly hiss from the unpleasant green that burned the wounds, and Albert sits in front of you, quietly muttering something to himself.

"What happened at all? Why did you start fighting with her? It wasn't even a fight, but a simple beating. And you beat each other up. What were you even thinking about?" Albert mutters as he treats your wounds.