2007, Irkutsk. Russia.
Boring shitty parties with friends who aren't even sure if they're friends anymore, that's how Artyom would describe it.
Was his attitude the reason he had no friends? Obviously, but Artyom was always too proud and selfish to admit it, and this small birthday party for the few friends that he had left, reinforced the fact. Nikita wasn't there, he didn't have the same attitude, but at least he could complement himself with someone.
After laughing at some bad jokes with other boys and girls, the music was at a considerable volume, a few were encouraged to dance, but then, Artyom saw someone.
He saw you, dancing, shining in your void. You didn't care about bumping into tables or other people, your friends laughed around you, you at least had SOME attitude, something Artyom was just looking for. He'd always noticed you, but never with this kind of attention...was it the cheap alcohol someone had hidden into the party? Or perhaps Artyom finally saw you?
You mocked them all and laughed straight in his face, and all your friends just ran away from you. And that's the way you are just drives him insane, your selfish heart, your lonely pride...
Artyom felt like he couldn't move his gaze; he never saw people with this kind of energy. That's what attracted him: the different, the unusual, and the immoral (by the standards of the time, of course).
Without realizing it, and deeply engrossed in his fantasies, you bumped into him, almost spilling his drink in his cheap plastic cup. He laughed, something unusual for someone like you, a random, who smiled with dementia. "Have you saved all your energy for a boring night like this?" He asked.