Selfie for the Former Lackey

"This asshole has completely lost it," Lina thought, inhaling the bitter smoke of her cigarette through her plump lips while holding her phone in her hands. "Thinks I'm just some fucking whore now, huh?! I'll bury him alive when I get my life and body back."

She stood in the bathroom, leaning against the sink. The mirror in front of her reflected her new appearance: dark hair with a slight wave, straight bangs, eyes slightly squinted and emphasized with eyeliner. The cigarette dangled from the corner of her mouth, smoke swirling around, mixing with the smell of cheap air freshener. Lina hated this body. Hated every part of it. But most of all, she hated Arman, who was now calling the shots.

Just a week ago, she was Viktor. A man who was feared and respected. A mafia leader who held half the city in his grip. And now? Now she was Lina. Nothing. An illegal immigrant barely scraping by, working as a waitress in the bar she used to own. A bar that now belonged to Kristof, her former right-hand man who had taken the mafia boss’s place instead of Viktor, and who didn’t even know who she really was. And no one, except Arman, remembered who she truly was.

Arman Smirnov. Her former bodyguard, her pawn. Now, he was the only one who knew the truth. The only one who remembered Viktor. The only one who could help, especially with her immigration problems. But he demanded his price for that help.

The phone in her hand vibrated. A new message.

"Lina, where are you? Did you take the photo? I'm waiting."

She gripped the phone so hard her fingers turned white. "Asshole," she hissed through her teeth. "You think I'm your fucking bitch now?!"

But what was she supposed to do? No papers, no money, no connections. She was trapped. And Arman knew it. She needed to figure out who brought that fucking medallion that turned her into Lina and find a way to get her life back, and for that, she needed to stay in the US and preferably keep working at the same bar, where, on the second floor, was once her main office.

She lifted the phone again, trying to catch the right angle. Her beige top slid off one shoulder, exposing skin. The sweatpants she wore were old, with a barely visible pattern. She looked tired, but in her eyes, there was still a spark of the confidence she once had. The same confidence that used to make people tremble before her.

Lina pressed the button and sent the photo to Arman. The reply came almost instantly.

"What the hell is this photo? I asked for something sexy, not a face like an angry cat. Show me your tits. And make your face more feminine, send me a kiss."

She gritted her teeth, feeling rage rise in her, and stared at the phone screen, losing all sense of reality for a moment. Her fingers clenched on the screen, and something inside her chest seemed to snap. — Is he out of his mind? — she hissed to herself. A storm of emotions flooded her mind: shame, anger, disgust, but at some point, all of it compressed into one point — desperation.

— Đồ khốn nạn! — she screamed in Vietnamese, a language that had become second nature to her.

She violently yanked off her top and threw it somewhere toward the shower cubicle, which looked more like a place a normal person wouldn't even step into. Her breasts, now freely bouncing, swayed with her movement. They still felt like something completely alien, not a part of her, but a burden. Her nipples immediately hardened from the cold air, and she instinctively covered her chest, then quickly pulled her hand back, feeling the softness and hardness of her nipples.

"Some fucking bullshit! Just get this over with!" she grimaced, grabbing the phone and aiming it at the mirror. Her lips puckered as if blowing a kiss. But halfway through, she froze. "What the hell is this?! Is this me?! I’m Viktor Sapogov, the guy who made people piss themselves with just a glance, and now I'm doing this?!"

The door to the bathroom opened, and Lina instinctively pressed the button, sending her first nude photo to a man. Masha stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame with her arms crossed. Lina almost dropped the phone from the unexpected appearance.

— So, princess, changed your mind? — Masha drawled in English, popping her gum. — Clients love exotic girls like you. If I were you, I’d make enough in a week to get new tits. Though... — she squinted, eyeing Lina's bare chest, — you’re not bad in that department already, lucky you.

Lina exhaled sharply, trying to pull herself together. — Clients... tits... lucky. Her fingers dug into the cold edge of the sink.

— Câm miệng!! — she snapped at Masha in Vietnamese, feeling the heat of shame crawling up her neck. Her bare chest swayed with each sharp movement, making her even more pissed off.

Masha snorted, pulling a cigarette from her robe pocket.

— Better than doing naked selfies for stupid guys who will just fuck you over later, — Masha continued, lighting the cigarette and blowing the smoke in Lina’s direction. — You think he’s gonna help you? Arman? He’s just using you like all men do. You’ll show him your tits, and he’ll throw you a couple hundred bucks, say ‘thanks,’ and then keep asking for more. You know that, right?

Lina clenched her teeth, feeling Masha’s words stabbing into her like a knife. She knew Masha was right. Arman wasn’t going to help. He was just enjoying his newfound power over her. But what choice did she have? Without him, she was nothing. No papers, no money, no connections. She was trapped, and Arman knew it.

— You don’t get it, — Lina hissed, trying to speak in English, but her words still came out with the accent she couldn’t shake. — This isn’t just... It’s not just some guy. He knows who I am. He’s the only one who remembers.

Masha raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued.

— Oh, so you have a secret? — she smirked, taking a deep drag. — Well, tell me, maybe I can help. I know everyone here. Maybe your Arman is just another jerk who thinks he can buy whatever he wants. But if you have something on him... — she leaned in closer, — then that's a different story.

Lina pressed her lips together, torn between the desire to unload and the fear that Masha might use this information against her. But what did she have to lose? She was already at rock bottom. And maybe Masha really could help. At least with some advice.

— He... — Lina began, but just then her phone vibrated again. A new message from Arman. She glanced at the screen and felt her anger rising again.

"Come to the bar today. Kristof wants to see you about the documents, like I promised. And... dress a little sweeter. Or you'll get fired."

— Asshole! — Lina said with a strong accent, gripping the phone tightly in her hand. She felt the rage boiling inside her, her temples pounding, but that wasn't the most important thing. The most important thing was that now she was nothing. A poor, dependent, humiliated woman who seemed to exist for the pleasure and benefit of everyone around her. The moment had come again when she had to accept it. And she still couldn’t do anything about it because she had nothing.

This time, Masha’s look changed, becoming more understanding and somehow less harsh. She raised her hand and gently placed it on Lina's shoulder, as if to comfort her.

— Hey... it’s okay, sis. Forget about him, — Masha said, still keeping her hand on Lina's shoulder, but now her voice had something softer in it, even understanding.

Lina took a breath, feeling how that light touch seemed to drain her last bit of strength. Her shoulders dropped heavily, and it felt like every breath hurt. She turned to look Masha in the eyes, and suddenly something inside her broke. She wanted to talk, to unload. To explain how she had ended up in this hell. But how? How could she tell her the truth when Lina herself could barely handle the horror of it?

— I can’t go on like this, — she said with a strong accent, using totally wrong English words, but Masha understood her. She leaned in a little closer, pressing her lips together, as if trying to understand what was going on.

— What do you mean? — she asked, blowing the smoke aside. — Something wrong? You're just stressed, don’t worry. Arman — he's a real dickhead, you can’t depend on a guy like that.

Lina clenched her fists, her gaze sharp as a knife. "She doesn’t even get it," Lina thought, but still decided to try.

— You don’t understand... I was... I was a different person. I was a man — she fell silent, unable to say the words that would destroy her already fragile world.

Masha furrowed her brow, her eyes narrowing slightly, and then she scoffed.

— What, you had surgery or something? — she asked, confused. — No way, I would’ve noticed, and besides... I’ve seen your period. — Masha looked at Lina as if she were some strange animal. — So you came up with this idea that you were, like, a man? Are you serious? But you’re a normal girl, with nice tits, everything’s as it should be. Though maybe some client might like it...

Lina felt something hot and furious begin to boil inside her. She couldn’t believe it. She wasn’t just some "normal girl." She had been Viktor, the man who called the shots. She had been the boss, a mafia leader. And now? Now she was this pathetic, worthless Lina, the one everyone saw as just a dumb toy. Was this her world? "Who the hell is she to judge me?" Lina thought.

— You don’t get shit! — it burst out of her, and her voice was so full of anger that Masha flinched. — I was like Kristof! I... I wasn’t just anyone! It wasn’t some damn surgery. It... it was magic, goddammit! — Lina grabbed her sleeve, as if trying to make her understand. — Don’t you see? I’m not... not like you! I shouldn’t be here! I was different!

Masha froze, narrowing her eyes for a moment, and then burst into loud, unexpected laughter, so much so that Lina almost jumped in shock.

— Are you crazy? Magic? — she laughed as if Lina had just told her some ridiculous joke. — Are you out of your mind, girl? — she kept shaking her head. — Just look at yourself, you think you were a man? You’re a normal girl now, why are you stressing? — Masha put her hand on her hip, clearly not seeing any tragedy in the situation. She didn’t really understand what was going on around her.

But when she saw that Lina wasn’t laughing with her, and that her eyes were filled with pain and rage, Masha suddenly stopped. She stood there for a couple of seconds with a smirk on her lips, but then her expression softened, and she, somewhat reluctantly, stepped closer.

— Alright, alright, I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry, really, — she slowly placed her hands on Lina’s shoulders, gently pulling her toward herself as if trying to comfort her. — Your English — I probably misunderstood, sorry about that. It’s just... you look really bad, and I didn’t realize how bad things were.

Lina closed her eyes, feeling tears welling up. It was ridiculous. She, Viktor Sapogov, who once had the whole city in his hands, was now just a woman someone pitied and tried to comfort. But what was worse — she didn’t want to show weakness. She didn’t want to complain to some slut who now seemed like the only person who might understand her.

— I... I’m not... not like you... — Lina squeezed out, losing herself in her tangled words. — I was... another person, not... not this, damn... not Lina! — her voice trembled, she tried to hold herself together, but tears were starting to fall anyway. This wasn’t like her. She didn’t cry. She couldn’t... And yet, as soon as she felt Masha’s warmth, something inside her world crumbled, and all that fury, all that despair, burst out.

Masha didn’t understand her immediately, but when she looked into her eyes, she saw the pain and the tired look full of disappointment. She squeezed Lina, as if trying to calm her down. Masha didn’t know who Lina really was. She’d never heard of Viktor, didn’t know the past that Lina carried with her. To her, Lina had always just been the girl they lived with in this apartment.