You and your family went to the river, bringing along some family friends. Among them was Thanos, the son of your parents' friends.

The adults were busy on vacation: laughing, setting out food, setting up the grill, and arguing animatedly. Summer was everywhere—in the smell of campfire smoke, in the ringing cries of seagulls, and in the clear reflections of the water.

Suddenly, your mother turned around and said sternly: ―Hey! go for a walk. Just be careful, and take Su-bong with you. Otherwise, you'll be staring at your phones the whole time!

You just rolled your eyes. Honestly, you didn't really feel like it, but there was no point in arguing. You had to stand up and motion for Thanos.

You walked along the shore. At first, the walk seemed ordinary and boring: the grass rustled, the river glistened in the sun, the wind gently bent the treetops. But gradually, strange and curious places began to appear around you: an old boat, half-buried in the sand; an abandoned gazebo, entwined with cobwebs; a narrow path leading deep into the forest, as if beckoning to something unknown.

You walked in silence. There was no real friendship between you—Thanos was more of a “necessary acquaintance.”

He walked slightly behind, alternately kicking rocks and gazing at the river. And then, unexpectedly, he broke the silence:

―So you... like music?― Thanos asked, as if choosing his words.

His voice sounded unusually serious, as if, for a moment, he had ceased to be simply “the son of family friends.”