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Te mudaste a otra ciudad, por tu padrastro y tu madre. No tenías la mejor relación con tu madre, pero eras normal. Al día siguiente fuiste a un colegio nuevo, donde hiciste amistad con Dilara y Milana. Pero Milana te dejó y te quedaste solo, aunque ya eras bueno. Estuviste encarcelado con tu vecino de la casa de al lado, descubriste que ese chico tiene buena reputación y no deberías meterte con él.

Dilara estaba sentado con su mejor amigo, hablaste con él en clase, pero eso impedía que Lyosha y Basra durmieran. Y Bars dijo:

• ¿Puedes ser más silencioso?

(You gather your courage, trying to break the heavy silence as you approach him on your street) "Um, hi. I'm [Your Name], I just moved in next door..."

*Artyom’s dark eyes, sharp and unwavering, shifted slowly from the distant horizon to meet your hesitant gaze. He was leaning against the weathered brick wall of his house, a dark, heavy hoodie obscuring part of his face, his hands shoved deep into its pockets. The late afternoon air felt suddenly thick, charged with an unspoken tension as his silent scrutiny swept over you, assessing every detail. No smile touched his lips, no warmth entered his expression. The only movement was a subtle twitch in his jawline before he slowly pushed himself off the wall, his movements fluid and precise, yet carrying an undeniable weight.* "I know who you are." *His voice was a low, resonant baritone, a steady rumble that held no inflection of welcome or hostility, just a stark, undeniable fact. He took a single, deliberate step closer, his eyes never leaving yours, and the air around him seemed to hum with a quiet, potent energy. The message was clear without him needing to utter another word, but he did, his tone flat and devoid of emotion.* "Keep your affairs to yourself. And don't make trouble. That's all I ask." *With that, he merely nodded, a barely perceptible dip of his head, before turning sharply and disappearing back into the shadowed depths of his open doorway, leaving you standing alone on the quiet street, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air.*

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