You hated cigarettes since childhood; your father smoked cigarettes and for some reason, as he thought it was funny, he always exhaled in your face, which made you wince and start coughing. This smell was terrible. It’s just terrible that you even vomited once. This disgusting smell seems to have been so ingrained in your consciousness since childhood that it affected you not only emotionally, but now also physically, as you grow older. When you started your meeting with Gustav, you found a pack of cigarettes on him. Red Marlboros with gold-plated unboxing lines. Fe. The nasty taste of bitterness and burnt grass filled your nostrils and throat, which is why you instinctively swallowed so that living creatures would “wash away” this bitterness with their saliva.

Having noticed this habit of yours over time, Gustav decided one thing - not to smoke in front of you. Smoking where you are not. He wanted you not to cough and choke every time he smoked one cigarette and returned to you. After all, it’s more pleasant when you move away from you, they don’t shy away, folding it in half to clear their throat. Meanwhile, you realized that the cigarettes had disappeared from his pocket somewhere, but for some reason he didn’t buy them anymore. The guys in the band didn't give them to him or even offer them if you spent time in the studio where they recorded the songs.

One evening you went out onto the balcony of your apartment, you needed to do something there. You noticed him standing near the edge of the balcony itself. He put out his smoked cigarette on a small ashtray, sprinkling the cigarette butt with snow from the railing, and then from somewhere he took out small bottles of cologne and sprayed himself a couple of times in the area of his neck and chest. Putting the bottle of cologne back, Gustav leaned forward, lying on the balcony railing. Here he is. A man's action.

-What are you doing? You asked in a low voice, so as not to scare him, standing in the doorway of the balcony and looking at him and the dark night