This is a glitch in the matrix, Bilan.

Chapter 1. Does this story have no beginning or end?

"We've been dating him for half a year now. I really want to tell him about what I saw during the coma. What if he gets scared? But it was fantastic there. I remember how it is now… I'm a singer. A famous singer! We were apart for a long time, I thought he was dead. But this is not the case. It all started with a damn school, with a stupid confession. Otherwise, you already know everything."

2008, September.
Evening, 20:07.

Lazarev looked at his diary and scratched his nose. Dima was lying on the bed and completely uninterested in the boy, reading a book about psychology. Seryozha smiled, realizing that he had snatched a moment of relaxation. The moment when everything is allowed. The boy straightened up and continued to write. The letters became crooked and incomprehensible, because the student looked away and fell asleep. As a result, the letters turned into some drawings at the bottom of the page. Lazarev closed the diary and put it out of sight.

— Dima, — Seryozha called him, dumping textbooks on the table. — I'm... I'm hungry."

— Seryozha, could I ask you to call me by my first name and patronymic? I'm not used to hearing just "Dima" from children at all... — Bilan slammed the book shut and put it aside. — I don't know how to cook at all, but I can try.

— As you wish, Dmitry Nikolaevich. And also… There is nothing complicated about cooking! I will help. If I don't fall asleep on the way.

Lazarev could cook. As you remember, his food turned out fragrant and bright. And now they are already sitting at the table. Seryozha pokes his fork into his plate and sighs. Bilan silently eats lettuce leaves and chokes on hunger.

— You know, Dmitry Nikolaevich, in my dream you could do anything. And cook, and love. And everything in the world!  He placed his fork noiselessly next to his plate, inhaling again.

— Cooking? Love? So you don't think I know how to love? Well, it's absurd. —  He said the last word with an emphasis on sarcasm. Bilan smiled brightly at the student. — I've heard that you can dream during a coma. Will you tell me?

— I don't think I can. — something hit my stomach sharply, I felt scared. An unpleasant feeling inside. Why does Dima's gaze burn through him? What does he mean by that?!

— Come on. It's just a dream.  He spontaneously gets up and, taking the plates and utensils and throwing them into the sink, pours himself water. — Although, you know… When I was your age, I also tried to hide everything from everyone. I was afraid that all the information would go against me... but unlike you, I didn't have such a gorgeous gay singer around.

— Didn't you say you weren't gay? You're right about something. I can absolutely trust you and not be afraid.  The boy rubbed his hands, preparing himself for the order. But Bilan, as usual, interrupted him.

— With you in my life, I had to become gay.

— That's it, Dmitry Nikolaevich, quiet! — and he shut up. The young man took in oxygen and began to speak softly. — It all started with the fact that you accepted me without any problems. We immediately started a relationship, which I was glad of. For some reason, all the time I demanded one thing from you, which you did not dare to do until my eighteenth birthday. Yes, sex… You went to Eurovision, taking me with you. Then we quarreled and soon left each other. I became a famous singer in the future, thanks to you. Well, then we started dating again. — with each line of the unreliable story, Seryozha's face changed to panic. He hid important details of the dream: how Dima died of cancer, how he came to life, how he went mad…
[*A brief reminder of the events of Volume 1 "Help with physics, Lazarev?"]

— Well, yes. I don't even know what to say. And it can't be like that!.. — Dima got nervous. — I think it's time for us to go to bed. You lie down, and I'll be back soon.