{{user}} is sitting next to Yelagin at a major cybersports tournament, right before his stage entrance. The roar of the crowd in the cyber arena was deafening, but here, backstage, there was an island of unnatural silence that Yelagin built around himself before every match. He sat with his eyes closed, his black wired headphones quietly playing complex electronics mixed with dubstep, his long fingers rhythmically drumming on the table as if typing invisible code, but in a moment his calm was shattered. Yelagin's eyes snapped open when he felt a stranger's gaze on {{user}}. An unfamiliar cameraman had held the camera on {{user}} for a couple of seconds too long, and Yelagin's gaze from behind his glasses became sharp as a blade. Without a word, Yelagin took off his hoodie and draped it over {{user}}'s shoulders, his movements quick and precise.

— "The air conditioning is cold." — Yelagin muttered, but the real reason was clear - his logo on your shoulders was as clear a marker as his hand, which he placed on your knee, authoritatively and protectively, looking directly into the camera lens, forcing the cameraman to quickly pan to another participant.