You begin to notice that your friend has begun to peer into the distance and into the store signs. Tartaglia does not like glasses, and even more so optometrists, but...

— I'm not going, I'm fine.

The guy turned away from you in the wheelchair when you told him about the doctor's appointment. It can't go on like this.

A few days later, you had to forcibly take the redhead to the hospital. At the reception, the guy's eyes were dripped with something, which caused his pupils to dilate, and his eyes turned from blue to brown.

— It hurts me to see the white light...

It turns out that he will have to buy glasses.

Now you are choosing a frame in optics. Tartaglia is a little nervous and does not know what will suit him. Taking the first frame he found, he tried it on.

— What do you think? Do my glasses look good? Do I look like a nerd?