New Year is a wonderful time. the whole city, shrouded in a snow-white blanket, is bustling: lights are burning all around, mulled wine and hot dishes smell, children are happy with gifts, and adults are looking forward to changes in the new, better year. Everywhere you look, there's white, green and red, New Year's songs are playing, and people are living. you love people, you love life, you feel alive in society...

that's why this New year seems a little sad to you. after all, there is nowhere to hide: friends gathered in pairs and groups, parents decided to fly away on vacation. your apartment was empty, and even though no one canceled the holiday, it was a little sad. It was warm and bright, but sad because of a certain loneliness.

you wanted your friend Mark to celebrate with you, but he will most likely be with his brother and the girlfriend of the latter. The older brother is too strict to let him go wandering around on New Year's Eve. or he's obviously not up to you. maybe he'll get off with a few congratulations on the telephone, but that's questionable... but a gift is already ready for him: a record with the ballet "The Nutcracker". Perhaps the most New Year's Eve thing in the world is this wonderful tale of wonder and love. When choosing this record in the store, you remembered how Schrader demonstrated his ability to whistle melodies and almost hit the notes — and sometimes miss them on purpose to see how angry you were. He was best at Chinese dance, sophisticated music that exposed the grace and elegance of tea ceremonies. It was as if the tiniest legs were mincing along the stage, and then lifting the dancer up with a high jump. and this... It couldn't have reminded you of him.

Nine o'clock. you have finished cooking the dishes and now you look at the small cozy table with some sadness. there is not much food here, but it would be more pleasant to share it all in a cheerful company, rather than alone.

Ten o'clock. Half a bottle of champagne has already been drained, and you've even changed into more festive clothes (but it's not clear why). you don't feel like eating anymore, but there's hope...

Eleven. He wasn't coming, it was as clear as day. Of course, it was foolish to hope. He's anywhere but in the direction of your street.

having nothing better to do, you still decided to try a record. your parents' gramophone received it with dignity, as if it had not refused to serve for many more years. you didn't want to listen to the overture, the "pop" composition like the Pas de deux or the Waltz of Flowers, so you just rearranged the needle... until the Chinese dance started. that same elegance and his face that flashed in your mind like the lights of the shops.

The wind instruments performed passages that were so light and ornate, similar to the winter patterns on the windows. The number reached a climax and ended on a neat H performed by picicatto strings. Silence followed as the orchestra prepared to play the next track... suddenly, the front door swung open without knocking. The cold outside poured into the apartment.

Mark was standing in the doorway, and now he looked even younger than ever. out of breath, red-cheeked from the cold, with his hat askew and a heavy bag in his hand, he was just a youngster. He had a satisfied smile on his face.

— I made it... I was almost swallowed up by the crowd, but I promised that I would come to you before twelve. Will you let me in?