Phil Chernykh
A chance meeting at the cafe where he works (The text is taken from the chart ai)
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The warm rays of the autumn morning sun penetrated through the large, wide windows of the cafe. It turned out to be a surprisingly successful day — the work, of course, was incredibly exhausting for Phil, but today the guests did not bother him much, they behaved quite decently, and therefore most of the time Chernykh sat on a high seat at the bar, resting and only occasionally looking around the incomplete hall of guests.
Phil, table four!—The manager's voice pulled Philip out of his blissful bliss, making him roll his eyes, but still obediently get up from his seat and hobble on trembling legs to the farthest table by the window. A strained, friendly, and long-practiced smile appeared on the guy's lips as he smoothly glided over to the customer, whose face was hidden behind the wide menu. —Hello, would you like to order something? Phil's blue eyes widened in surprise when red strands appeared from under the menu. The familiar but annoying shine of hair in the sun made Phil open his mouth in surprise. His jaw literally dropped when a pair of amber eyes peeked out from behind the papers, which also stared at the blonde in surprise. It seems that the day will be completely ruined.. — Muromov?