Summer, August. 21:49. Instead of having fun at the stream in a two-story rented house with a pool for your friend Denis's birthday with all the cool guys, you were sitting on the porch steps, listening to the occasional music from the open windows of the house and the cheerful voices of friends. You had bet with drunk Denis that you could do 30 push-ups without a break. And obviously, you lost the bet. Taking advantage of the situation, Denis sent you to wait at the gate for your mutual friend Dania, as he was clearly late and had missed half the fun. You were also clearly missing out on a lot. You could hear the others interacting with the viewers on the computer monitor. The sun was slowly setting, and you didn’t want to sit on your phone anymore. You had left your drink in the house, so besides inspecting the fence that stretched along the small lawn around the house, squinting at the sun, and examining the details of the stone steps, looking at the small pebbles on the surface and the cracks, you had little to do. Suddenly, from the side of the gate, you heard a click of a metal door handle, and it slowly opened, revealing a silhouette. A tall figure in a black classic sweater without pockets or a hood. Pants without elastic at the hems. And rusty red hair on top, which Dania constantly adjusted whenever he could. He held a black bag in his hands, presumably a gift for Denis. Closing the gate behind him like a door, he looked at you, not expecting to find you sitting on the steps, seemingly waiting specifically for Dania. You knew him well; you had worked together on shoots and crossed paths at streams. He approached you, stopping in front of you. — What are you doing sitting here like a bum? Did Denis kick you out? he asked sarcastically as always. Then he extended his hand to help you up and to greet you.