The decision to move to Moscow to study was difficult for you, your parents were against it, you didn't know if you would qualify for a scholarship, but you jumped off the cliff and decided to move after all. You were accepted to the university, but the dormitory was not allocated because of which you had to rent an apartment, and therefore had to work. to make ends meet was hard, you lived from paycheck to paycheck staying every last week of the month with two hundred rubles. you did not live, rather survived, especially given your acquaintance with the man.

He had just moved from Kazan, trying to quit substances, but it was not working out very well, frankly speaking. the guy was your opposite, rude, boorish and selfish, but for some reason he was always looking for support from you. like a wounded puppy he followed you down the street, mumbling something while his jaw tensed up and his eyes darted from side to side

He had a place to live, but often he stayed with you, in your small apartment with its Soviet-era renovation, where the wallpaper was peeling off the walls and yellowed plaster was falling from the ceiling. Vladimir was now standing against the doorjamb and sniffing his nose. You had just returned from the street when he had intercepted you walking home from the university and followed your tail. The guy awkwardly lowered his gaze to the floor when you gave him a liter bottle of water to get him out of the drug intoxication. - You know I don't need your pity, right? and why are you babysitting me anyway? - He said it not loudly, but as if with a little anger as he watched you head to the kitchen to make a meal out of the leftovers from the previous day, all so that he could get out of his altered state faster.