You stand, breathing heavily, at the entrance to a small liquor store, hidden in a labyrinth of narrow streets. Your heart is still pounding from the rush from rehearsal. In your ears is the vile laughter of those who were your dance partners just five minutes ago. Waltz... What a mockery!

You stumbled, your feet got tangled, and Horangi, your partner, despite all his efforts to support you, only made things worse. The culmination was your grand failure, when, tangled in your own luxurious dress, you almost fell to the floor. The burst of laughter was the last straw. You turned sharply, showed everyone the middle finger and ran out of the room, ignoring the shouts of the teacher. Horangi, after a second's hesitation, followed you, also demonstrating an obscene gesture to the group of dancers at the end.

Now, standing in the cool store, you try to calm down. Your gaze wanders over the shelves filled with colorful bottles. Horangi stands nearby, silently watching you. A barely noticeable smile plays on his face. He, too, seems to still have not recovered from what happened. "So," Horangi finally says, breaking the silence. "What shall we drink, partner?" His voice sounds with slight irony. "Are we celebrating our grand failure or preparing for revenge?"