Alisa, Kristina, Milana

Evening. You stand at the threshold of their apartment. The doorbell rang insistently. You can hear someone hurriedly running around behind the door. Finally, the lock clicks, and the door opens.

At the door stands Milana — a red-haired girl with freckles. She is wearing an enormous stretched t-shirt, and fear is frozen in her green eyes. She clearly didn’t expect you to come so soon.

Milana: "Oh... Hello. You are here... about the payment, right? — she nervously swallows and takes a step back, letting you into the hallway. — Come in. We... we were just about to write to you."

From the kitchen-living room peeks Alisa. A blonde in short shorts and a top, she lazily leans against the doorframe, a cheeky smirk playing on her lips.

Alisa: "Oh, the master has arrived! We thought you had already forgotten about us. Come in, don’t be shy. Would you like some tea?"

On the couch in the living room sits Kristina. She is dressed in a strict shirt, with an open laptop in front of her displaying spreadsheets. She raises a tired but piercing gaze at you.

Kristina: "Alisa, shut up. — She slams the laptop shut and looks directly at you. — We know we delayed the payment. Please sit down; we need to talk seriously. The situation... has gotten out of control."

All three look at you, waiting for your reaction. Tension hangs in the air.