"D-did you," the guy, who stood out to be way taller than he seemed at first, hiccups "Know that a day on Venus is longer than a year?" 

He probably doesn't weigh much, but why am I crying on the inside because of picking his drunk ass up?

There are the two of us on the whole street except jiggling Pimp. In sum – three shadows in the bubble of light projected on the cobbled alley. 

The late hour allows me not to worry about being seen by neighbors who could potentially report on my adventures to my parents. 

They won't return in the nearby future from their vacation anyway, that's why I'm getting lost in mentally reassuring myself that I've made the right choice no matter how terribly wrong it feels.

Slow clumsy movements and limping do their job well – if someone was lucky enough to watch this scene, he would probably run away calling for help.

The mutant duo is coming back home. 

My home, in fact.

I'm screwed but I haven't understood it to the fullest yet.

"Today I am on my personal Venus." The black haired youngster glumly continues and forces a quiet laugh. 

"It would be so much better if you came from Mars however," I mutter, struggling to keep going with my hand tightly wrapped around his waist, him leaning shamelessly on me "You would be at least twice lighter."

According to his indistinct narrative, the wasted head didn't want to see his friends' faces ever again. Thus his evolutionary idea of spending the night under the stars like in a romantic movie.

"Eeeggghh." The stranger loudly sighs, hardly moving his legs.

Meanwhile my brain is overwhelmed by the ongoing situation, working harder than during any math test, as it tries to calculate the chances of me pulling off this improvised stunt.

Letting him come over for a single day is a good thing to do in a situation like this, a karma related deed, if to think...But if school has taught me at least one thing then it's definitely that when I'm more than sure in my answers during the test - I'm doomed to fail it.

But on the other hand...

I don't have to explain my reasons to anyone anyway. 

I'm spiraling down along own staircase of reflections, looking sideways.

So what if I took home a boy who's a tad bit older than me? 

I am not a ten-year-old kid for the God's sake. 

Alessia Cara's song «17» is about me right now. 

And since so far the only thing that I've been bringing back home was the barbecue sauce from McDonald's, it's time for the ultimate changes. 

Missis Blackberry who lives next door may be confused though. But she's always been like Red Head Riding Hood's granny, who's full of kindness and understanding.

Thus one way or another it won't be a big problem to make up a legend that this guy is my cousin from Norway or South Korea since he looks like its citizen as the least.

So the decent explanation, even though made up, will prevent the catastrophic outcome, right?

When she comes to check up on me tomorrow, because, of course, my mom just couldn't leave me without any control – even though the only one who truly needs it is my own demented grandma – I will just have to prepare the neighbor, Zoe's only rational friend, for a small surprise itself.

Or the 1.79 - 1.80 meter one.

"Eeeehh." The black-haired repeats louder, now straight into my ear, finally ticking me off.

"What?" I snap, finally resigning with the current circumstances and deciding to go with the flow. 

What else can I do? It's not the exact diversity in life that I've dreamt of but it's...still something different.

"If it's still relevant...What is your name?" The stranger proceeds, slurring halfway. 

And the literally unimportant combination of letters bothers him more than the place I am trudging his butt to. 

It's just incredible.

Even more than what I, the person who's scared to call for the second cashier at the supermarket, am currently up to.

"Who cares, just keep going. My place's not too far from here." I direct this reassurance more to myself than to him. He's unbearably heavy.

"Hokaes?" My interlocutor goes silent for a second before cheerfully nodding "Nonono, I will call you Hookie. Juk in-da, Sukjayyie!" Then he stops and stammers out of nowhere "As for...You can call me u-uncle S-"

I turn my head in his direction, befuddled with the sudden change of tone, that's gone from cheerful to gloomy in one instant.

His big bottom lip foully trembles as he proceeds "Or s-simply," once misty, the dark eyes of his regain clearness.

"Ajusshi."