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He noticed me for the first time during a school event organized for younger students. I usually didn't participate in such activities, but because I could play "Red Evenings" on the piano, the teacher persuaded me to join the event. I was also tempted by the promised extra credit in literature.

"Elija, right?" I heard a question.

I was standing backstage, watching the performance while waiting for my turn to take my place. The question surprised me a little. I glanced at the most handsome guy I had ever seen and nodded in agreement. He never attended rehearsals, only occasionally passing by, greeting everyone with his perfect smile. It seemed like he was everywhere and nowhere at the same time, the school's darling, having already won several medals for the school with his athletic achievements.

"I like your part," he said, also peeking forward and looking at the stage. "Good luck," he winked and turned on his heel, heading back to where he came from.

I stood there like a chicken struck on the head. I realized it was silly to get excited over a few words. Still, my heart fluttered with joy that he noticed me...

"It's your turn," someone nudged my shoulder.

Lost in thought, I was still waiting in place.

"Elija!"

I shuddered at the eerily realistic voice from the past that echoed in my ears. I closed my eyes tightly, trying to suppress the tremor that arose within and to dispel the images of the emerging memories. When I opened my eyes, I surveyed the bar where I was sitting in a tiny club in the old town. The pervasive violet-blue twilight made the place feel cozily romantic. The walls were lined with strange plastic panels reflecting the flickering lights, and the bar had a modern design with several tiers. Behind me, people moved in groups, their voices blending with the music into a continuous hum. Many people come to such places to enjoy that unusual, thrill-filled atmosphere, but unfortunately, I was completely unable to do so.

I watched as the cigarette butt smoldered between my fingers, the smoke curling upward in slow motion, weaving into the thick air saturated with various sounds and smells. I crushed the cigarette into the ashtray, its tip still bearing the mark of my red lipstick. For some reason, the sight of the lipstick on the cigarette stub, now buried in ashes, made me feel nauseous, so I quickly pulled my hand away and clenched my fist.

The bartender, approaching for the third time, flashed a charming smile and tried to persuade me to have a drink. Although his flirting was pleasantly unobtrusive, he once again received my polite refusal. I must have appeared bored yet eager for adventure. This misleading image had already attracted more than one man, but I managed to quickly send them away. Tonight's task was an easy one; I estimated that I would be done in less than an hour, but my target was still nowhere in sight. I lazily glanced at the black classic watch on my wrist. A few minutes to two in the morning. The blonde had confirmed that he would definitely show up here, so I continued to wait patiently.

I wasn't a fan of nightclubs. My heart leaned more towards retro-style cafes where real music played, not the metallic, computerized noise. There were also too many flashing lights—they created false shadows, and people would wrap themselves in those color cloaks and start behaving in ways they wouldn't normally dare. Such places created illusions and allowed one to play a role they secretly desired. Of course, I was also playing a role now, but it wasn't what I would have wanted. Unfortunately, I often did things that were far from what my heart desired...

After another ten slow minutes, I finally saw a new group of guys. My eyes immediately locked onto my target. I tilted my head to the side and squinted at the guy, trying to assess the situation and decide on the appropriate tactic. Everything quickly fell into place as he headed my way. Soon, he was leaning against the bar, placing his order with the bartender.

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