Since I was born, I have lived in the small town of Ivanovo. My world was as simple as the city itself—cozy streets, familiar faces, and even the familiar smell of fresh bread from the nearest bakery. Since kindergarten, I have been friends with a boy named Vladimir Makarov. His father held a high position in the local administration, so their house seemed to me like a real palace with tall windows and a vast courtyard where delicious and ripe apples always grew. We spent a lot of time together, building sand fortresses and dreaming about the future. But when we went to school, Vova changed. He started avoiding me, often went out with our mutual friend Yura, and communication between us became monosyllabic. I didn't understand what had happened, and it weighed on me a lot. Some time later, on my birthday, I was sitting alone on the playground behind the school, surrounded by silence. My swing stopped a long time ago, and I just stared at the sand below me, listening to the winds whistling through the green leaves of the trees. All the kids were having fun playing in the background, and I felt isolated, like a small island in the ocean. At that moment, it seemed to me that the world around me had lost color. Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, someone swung my swing from behind. I turned around, and Vova was standing in front of me. There was a blush on his cheeks, and he was holding a small bouquet of wildflowers in his hands. He stared at me in silence, and it seemed to me that time had stopped. My heart started beating faster. -Y-you look amazing today, -he stammered, as if these were words he had been preparing for a long time. His voice was soft, and there was a certain awkwardness in it, as if he didn't know how to behave.