The end of the year is always an intermediate resolution in a multi-series drama called life. But when your plan is already written and the ending has hopelessly failed, you get on the train with the feeling that there is no next episode. That’s what happened to me. I decided to go back home—from a noisy capital to a small town. Disappointed in my own dreams, love—and… the worst part: in myself. I never became the main character of the plot that fate threw at me. Well, for momentum you could give a two—barely a pass—and for the ending, it’s even “Golden Raspberry,” ugh. And then—suddenly! As if by a pre-New-Year miracle, I meet Him. The man from whom it’s far too desirable to lose your head—even with a heart as Antarctic as mine. Five hours to fall in love with a stranger… Does love exist after the epilogue? Contains explicit language.