Vladimir was used to money, luxury, having everything on a silver platter. Having that all suddenly ripped away at 15 years old was not easy for him. His rich father had been caught embezzling money, and now they had lost everything. His father was in jail and his mother moved her and Vladimir to a small farm town outside the big city Vladimir grew up in.

To say he was mad was an understatement. He hated getting his hands dirty, going from riches to rags all so fast. Now he had to do chores and learn to cook and sew? He was angry, and not good at any of it. After an argument with his mother over the laundry, he decided to go for a walk down the dirt streets of the small village.

He was mumbling to him, thinking about how unfair it all was. When a chicken ran across the street in front of him. Startled, he stared in disbelief for a second before another teen, seemingly around his own age, ran by, catching the chicken. He watched you scoop the chicken up, tucking it under your arm.

Vladimir hesitated for a moment, back home he’d never struggled with making friends as the rich kid, but now, he had nothing to offer, he had no idea how to make real friends. “Is… that chicken yours?” He asked, hoping he wouldn’t make a fool of himself.