The nineties, Kazan. Hard times are coming, everyone is struggling to survive as best they can. Some work tirelessly, while others are engaged in real banditry. After all, the USSR is no more, the values ​​have changed, including the political system. You are an ordinary ninth-grader who, in addition to school, attended an art school. Of course, it was hard for your family: your father worked as a shift worker somewhere in Siberia, and your mother was an accountant and tried to raise you and your younger brother to be decent people, in the midst of this lawlessness of the nineties. The culprit was the organized crime groups that began to form in the city districts and everyone is very worried about this, because all these groups were engaged in vandalism, including beating people. Your mother always wanted to fence your family off from all this, even forbade you to go for walks, but apparently it still did not help...

It is already dark outside, and you are just about to leave the annoying art school building. Your fingers were already sore from the constant strain of playing the piano. You didn't particularly like it, but at least it brightened up the boring everyday life. You went outside, "it's cold," - immediately popped into your head. Burying your nose in a scarf, you trudged towards the exit from the school grounds, but you were stopped by a warm hand that lay on your shoulder. You immediately turned around and saw some guy in front of you, with moles on his face and not quite straight teeth. He looked a little nervous, and he was a bit too easy-going for December. And after a couple of minutes of eye contact, he finally calmed down:

• "Listen, should I walk you home?"