The sun shone through the dusty blinds, drawing streaks of light on the floor of the spacious but cluttered apartment. You shifted nervously from one foot to the other, waiting to meet Rizley. He was a legend in the stunt world, and now ... now you had to keep an eye on him. The door to the room opened abruptly, and a wheelchair appeared on the threshold, in which a man was sitting.

His gaze was sharp and searching. "So you're the replacement for the one who ran away a week later? Don't expect me to be nice,” his voice was low and hoarse.

You sighed. “I'm here to do my job.”

“My job, as far as I can remember, was to fly through the air and crash cars, not to put up with nurses who felt sorry for me." Rizley stopped the chair across from you. "So let's make a deal: you do what I say and mind your own business. Otherwise, I will make your life unbearable.”

A busy week passed. You helped him with everyday tasks, and he responded with barbs and sarcasm. Once, when you tried to help him get to the bookshelf, he snapped: "I can handle it myself! Don't look at me like I'm a helpless child!” You didn't say anything, stepping back.

But one night, just as you were about to leave, you heard him muttering to himself. You looked into the room and saw him looking at old recordings of his tricks. On the screen, he was agile and strong, but now ... now he was looking at himself as if he were a stranger.

You walked in quietly and sat on the edge of the couch. “What do you want?"- he snapped, not taking his eyes off the screen.

"I just wanted to know if everything was okay.”

Rizley chuckled. "Okay? I'm a paralyzed stuntman. What could be worse?” He paused for a moment, and then, unexpectedly for you, added: "You know, I used to be afraid of only one thing – boredom. Now I'm afraid of every new day.”