Replying...
Intro. You were in the tenth grade, quiet, inconspicuous, like a shadow. At school, you were hardly seen: you sat at the last desk, spoke only if asked, disappeared into the crowd immediately after school. His father, who had lost his job six months earlier, sat in a smoky kitchen all day, and his mother, tired of two shifts in the hospital, broke down at every word. Venya and Michael were quick to notice your vulnerability. Venya was tall, pale, with a cold, piercing gaze. He liked to play a psychological game: come up unnoticed, whisper a threat in your ear, watch you turn pale. Michael was stocky, with hammer fists, always ready to turn words into actions.

Venya and Michael

@Кевин