While the parents were in full swing celebrating their offspring's academic achievements, the kids sat locked in one of the rooms, safely away from the ever-curious and intrusive eyes of one meddling parent or another.
"Two hours until the diploma ceremony," Dasha said irritably.
"What are we doing tonight?" Anya asked.
"But it's the graduation ball tonight—all night, until morning!" Artem said, baffled.
"How boring," Anya mumbled. "We've been staring at those same faces for five years, and now we get to admire them again."
"I wouldn't mind seeing a few people," Artem said dreamily. "Like Yura and Valera, for example."
"Missed them, have you?" Vadim teased.
"Not really, but just this once. For the last time," Artem smiled. "Too bad Kirill won't be there. How's he doing, anyway? All these years, neither of us called the other, not even once…"
"Yura said Kirill's doing fine and is graduating successfully too," Max suddenly said.
"You're in touch with Yura?" Artem asked, surprised.
"Of course," Max replied. "Exupéry taught me: 'You are responsible for what you have tamed.' I kept in touch with Kirill too—all this time, until he transferred back to our city six months ago."
"Transferred? Where?" everyone asked at once.
"Some friends you are," Max said reproachfully. "He's studying law here now."
"At our university?" Artem asked, suddenly excited.
"No, at another one, on the other side of the city. If you're so curious, call and ask him!" Max said sternly. "But he changed his number."
"Give me his new number!" Artem demanded.
"If I had it, I'd be talking to him myself," Max replied. "He only gave it to Yura and Valera. He told me that if he started talking to me, he'd feel obligated to talk to all of us, and it would be too much for him again."
"What do you mean, 'too much'?" Artem asked hesitantly.
"No idea," Max shrugged, continuing to scroll through his tablet. "But I have a guess…"
"Then tell me!" Artem demanded.
"Ask him yourself!" Max shot back. "I can't stand gossiping!"
Everyone grew quiet, sinking into a shared melancholy. The memories of Kirill seemed especially warm and nostalgic, leaving a bittersweet weight in the air.
"Alright!" Anya commanded. "Tonight we're going to the ball so our little flower"—she gestured at Artem—"doesn't bore us to death later with complaints about how we robbed him of his best memories. But tomorrow, it's the club. Because, look at our great thinker over here"—she pointed at Vadim—"he's been single for six months now. I think his balls have long since acquired a cubic shape. We'll find him a girl."
"And me too!" Dasha interjected, offended at being overlooked. "I haven't had anyone in, like, five years. Well, except for Artem." She shot him an apologetic glance. "But he's such a goody-two-shoes boy, you can't get away with anything fun around him!"
"Dasha!" Artem protested. "Who's the goody-two-shoes here now?"
"She's right, you're a goody-two-shoes boy!" Vadim chimed in, backing up Dasha.
"Dasha," Max began in his usual lecturing tone, "you shouldn't go looking for a boyfriend in a club. That's not the place for it. People go there purely for, well, one-night stands. And most of the time, they don't even bother leaving the scene of the crime. You're not cut out for that, and honestly, you don't need to be."
"But I want to!" Dasha declared firmly. "If I can't find a boyfriend, at least I'm having healthy sex with a quality stallion!"
Her friends' jaws collectively dropped. No one had ever expected to hear something like that from Dasha.
"Oh my!" Anya gasped. "Our little girl is growing up!" She threw her hands up dramatically.
"Well, that settles it!" Max concluded. "Tomorrow, we hit the club. Let's see how Dasha gets sick from alcohol. We'll laugh our asses off!" He chuckled.
"Dasha, don't worry!" Anya said in a mockingly sweet voice. "I'll hold your hair back for you the whole time!"
"Oh, sure," Vadim snarked. "Unless someone else ends up holding yours first."
Anya smacked him on the shoulder.
The entire family walked as a noisy crowd from their house to the university, making a ritual pilgrimage to the temple of knowledge for the last time.
Out front, the children moved in a flock, dressed in black gowns trimmed with gold, wearing square black caps with golden tassels swinging like carrots dangling in front of donkeys.
Slightly behind, a tight-knit group of proud parents marched, admiring their offspring and singing praises to each child individually.
The ceremony took place in the university park, on the stage of the open-air theater, sparing everyone the need to enter the building and endure the soul-freezing sensations that had haunted the students during their final months of study.
The day was exceptionally sunny, and the park was thick with green trees that shimmered in the rays of spring sunlight. On such a day, being on campus felt almost pleasant.
The theater's shell-shaped stage was beautifully decorated with festive tinsel in a palette of blue, black, and gold. At the center of the stage stood a lectern, from which each graduate would speak their gratitude—to parents, professors, lovers, friends, and so on. This would repeat in endless loops for several hours. But this was the final grueling duty graduates had to endure before receiving their long-awaited diplomas.
It began. The parents of the graduates gathered as a colorful, buzzing crowd at the rear of the parterre, while their beloved children were seated in neat rows at the front. Those lucky enough to receive their diplomas early were quietly slipping away into the park's greenery with their parents.
"What was the point of all this hard work?" Anya grumbled. "What am I supposed to do with all these certificates?"
"They're not even good enough to use as toilet paper," Artem added in agreement.
"And now we have to wait until the bitter end of this spectacle," Vadim complained irritably.
At that moment, Vadim harbored a genuine hatred for Artem. Their constant rivalry had led them both to collect a mountain of certificates through every possible means, which were now being handed out to the most distinguished graduates at the very end of the ceremony. Even Max had been dragged into their competitiveness, forced to earn a few certificates of his own. For this, Max currently loathed them all equally.
Only Dasha sat content and proud, a fact that only fueled everyone else's simmering frustration.
The parents beamed with pride and happiness for their brilliant children. They were prepared to stand at attention for a week if it meant witnessing what they believed to be the "triumph" of their offspring. As for the children's grumbles and complaints, that was just their usual state, and the parents had long since stopped paying it any mind.
By the time the least distinguished member of the quintet, Max, was called to the stage, less than a third of the students remained in the parterre, and the rows of parents had thinned out considerably. The sun had begun to dip below the horizon, and the park was growing noticeably colder. At last, the children began to appreciate the absurdity of being there in those ridiculous gowns—they were at least somewhat warm.
Max's father stepped forward as his son ascended the stage. This was his son: a truly handsome manly figure, adored by all the girls (and even a few boys), talented, intelligent, well-read, a lawyer with a red diploma, and an honorary graduate loaded with certificates, two medals, and a peculiar-shaped trophy. At that moment, Max's father felt like a completely fulfilled man. For the first time, he openly wept, comically dabbing at tears of happiness while gazing at his son with unabashed pride, utterly unconcerned with how he might appear to others.
The incongruity of this scene with his usual stoic demeanor was so striking that even the children felt unexpectedly moved watching him.
Next, Anya was called to the stage. Her mother clapped her hands and practically bounced with joy, as though she hadn't seen her daughter in years. Max's father, still overcome with emotion, gave her an enthusiastic hug, clearly understanding exactly what she was feeling at that moment.
When Dasha's name was announced, her mother retreated behind the other parents, unable to contain her own tears as Dasha walked onto the stage.
None of the parents had the faintest idea what their children were saying from the podium, but that didn't matter in the slightest. It was the sight of them standing there, radiant in their moment of recognition, that filled their hearts.
Vadim and Artem stepped onto the stage simultaneously and, standing together at the podium, addressed their mothers.
"Mom!" they said in unison, as if perfectly rehearsed.
"We think you're finally satisfied," Vadim began, his tone deliberately serious, drawing amused smiles from the audience.
"Here are your diplomas!" Artem added, making a theatrical gesture toward their mothers. "We hope you'll leave us alone now!"
The audience erupted into laughter and applause. The boys had planned to say more, but seeing the uproarious reaction to their brief remarks, they realized brevity truly was the soul of wit—and not something to provoke unnecessarily.
By the end, seven people stood on the stage, decked out with medals like Christmas trees, clutching diplomas and an array of certificates: two unfamiliar bookworms from other departments and their entire quintet, all present and accounted for.
The dean, clearly relishing his moment in the spotlight, launched into a lengthy speech filled with praise and flowery compliments. He singled out their quintet multiple times as an exemplary, united team, inadvertently leaving the other two feeling a bit overshadowed. His words overflowed with advice and encouragement—though, truth be told, much of it seemed more an opportunity for him to bask in his own cleverness and eloquence. After all, even a dean deserves a rare occasion to talk about himself.
When he finally concluded and ceremoniously "sent them off into adulthood," the students descended the stage with strained smiles and stiff legs. Before leaving, they decided to sit down in the audience seats for a moment, just to feel their legs again.
The idea of a graduation ball had lost all appeal by this point.
Their parents, like a swarm of piranhas, immediately descended upon them with kisses, hugs, and incoherent murmurs. What exactly they were saying was impossible to decipher—and, frankly, the exhausted graduates couldn't have cared less.
Removing their gowns, which had concealed their evening attire, they sent their parents home and trudged off to the ball.
"God, my feet are killing me," Anya said, already barefoot, holding her shoes in one hand. "I'm going to walk around barefoot all night. And honestly, who's there to impress? It's so nice, the cool floor…" She sighed contentedly—then abruptly slipped her shoes back on, her gaze fixed on someone in the distance.
"What's up with you?" Artem asked, puzzled. "You just said walking without shoes felt great…"
Approaching them was Kirill—tall, strikingly handsome, and transformed in a way none of them could have anticipated.
"Kirill!" Artem exclaimed, the name bursting out of him as he instinctively threw his arms around Kirill's neck like an overexcited twelve-year-old girl. "I've missed you so much!" Pulling back to take a better look at him, Artem grinned. "Wow, you're like every dream guy rolled into one!" he teased, genuinely admiring him.
Vadim, playing the part of a jealous spouse, nudged Artem aside and positioned himself squarely between them.
"You look good!" Vadim said, offering a compliment laced with subtle wariness.
"Got all handsome and decided to forget about us?" Anya chimed in, her tone effortlessly flirtatious, as always.
"Oh, stop it!" Artem waved her off. "This is Kirill we're talking about! What's wrong with you? And why are you here instead of, you know, back at your place?" he asked, turning back to Kirill.
"Well, I don't know anyone over there. I only studied there for one semester. But here? You guys are here. I wanted to catch up. Plus, it's a graduation ball—I wanted to spend it with people I actually know."
"Glad you made it!" Max said, joining the group and giving Kirill a friendly pat on the shoulder.
"Oh my God, Kirill!" Dasha exclaimed, walking up to them. "It's so great that you're here! Well," she turned to the others with a teasing grin, "now Artem has a boyfriend. All that's left is to find boyfriend for me and for Vadim too!"
"I already have a boyfriend," Vadim replied, seizing on her slip of the tongue, gesturing subtly toward Artem. "I need a girlfriend."
"Wow, multitasker!" Dasha exclaimed in mock outrage.
Artem burst out laughing, oblivious to any subtext.
"Ugh, let's get out of here!" Anya suggested. "I've seen it all, the chest is empty, there's nothing to catch here. Let's at least go for a walk in the central park."
"They're having fireworks there tonight!" Artem said excitedly, bouncing in place. "Kirill, come with us? Please!" He put on a mock-whiny voice, pretending to beg.
"How could I possibly resist?" Kirill replied with the air of a competitor, locking eyes with Vadim and smiling.
Vadim laughed, refusing to play along any further. "Good. It's been ages since we were all together."
"But!" Kirill suddenly stopped them. "There's one more couple I'd like to see first. Can you wait a bit?"
"You mean YurVar?" Artem asked, using the nickname they'd long given to the duo of Yura and Valera.
"YurVar? That's brilliant! Yes, them," Kirill confirmed with a grin.
"Then let's go to them together!" Artem urged. "We'll drag them along with us. What's the point of leaving them here to marinate?"
Finding the pair turned out to be no small feat. They scoured almost the entire university before Artem stumbled upon them hiding in an abandoned upper-floor corridor, engrossed in a kiss.
"Oh, come on!" Artem exclaimed, dragging the reluctant duo behind him. "Enough with the smooching already. What are you, saving it all for home? Let's go to the park—Kirill's waiting for us."
"Kirill?" Both of them suddenly perked up and stopped resisting.
Catching Yuri's sharp look, Valera hesitated before asking, "What's he doing here? Where is he?"
"Why you so eager?" Yuri snapped, jealousy dripping from his voice.
"Oh, don't start," Valera waved him off. "It's not like you've got any reason to be jealous."
"Why don't you ask him yourself?" Artem said, steering them toward the group, with Kirill standing in the center.
Kirill stepped forward and pulled both of them into a warm hug. Artem, unable to contain himself, began impatiently patting Kirill's back.
"Let's go already! Let's go!" Artem whined, bouncing on his toes as though he urgently needed the bathroom. "Come on, come on!"
With a mix of laughter and rolled eyes, the group finally set off toward the exit.
They left the university, for the first time as a complete group, with no trace of regret.
"I don't think I'll ever want to come back here again," Max said.
"As for me, I think I'll be having nightmares about this place for a long time," Dasha added.
"I don't know..." Anya mused. "I had fun here. But I could have just as much fun anywhere else without having to fight with textbooks."
"I'm going to miss it!" Artem declared. "I met all of you here. Well, except for Vadim. I'm happy with you all!"
"Oh!" they all chimed in unison, hugging each other.
"You're so sweet, really!" Valeka said.
Yuri slapped him hard on the backside, earning a knowing look from Vadim.
"Don't relax too much, or silly things might slip out!" Vadim said, pointing at Yuri as he did.
"Ugh..." Valera muttered, rubbing the spot where he'd been slapped. "He's so jealous!" And Valerka definitely enjoyed it.
The group burst into laughter.
The city had really outdone itself, decorating the parks to celebrate the graduates. Crowds of former students, dressed in their best evening wear, strolled through the park. There were tents serving plastic glasses that resembled crystal, filled with sparkling champagne. The evening was pleasantly warm, with a huge, bright moon in the sky. From the farthest corner of the city, the first flashes of fireworks could be seen, lighting up the dark sky. Gradually, the flashes grew closer and brighter, the bangs of the fireworks growing louder, until their "flowers" and "balls" bloomed right above their heads, mesmerizing them with their grandeur and beauty.
They spent the entire night walking, sitting on benches, laughing, and dreaming, gazing at the sky illuminated by vivid colors. It wasn't the first celebration in their lives, but today, for the first time, it felt like it was all for them.