J wasn’t unhappy, but mostly uninterested in life as it had been since childhood. Achievements never came easy to her and she hardly had any because she never even tried. The harsh industrial city she lived in shaped her into someone indifferent to noise and disaster, whether it was a shooting or the smog that never quite lifted. She tried to find beauty in a nearby lake, where she hung out with her classmates. They took the usuals: beer, the cheapest chips that tasted like paper, and tough cigarettes. Music from someone’s phone was playing, and she was looking at the pylons on the other bank. Life was flowing like a river, and J was the dead body in it that didn’t go deep but was floating where the water flows.

Good things were happening to her as well, and she had friends, thank God. Her best friend S cared for her. S was a star. Always best at school, ambitious, smart. “She is so bad at anything artsy, she better not sing or draw or do any art” – thought J sometimes or even asked S directly not to sing. J felt in her shade and didn’t even try to get her place under the sun. Jealousy was not a deadly sin for her, rather a normal everyday feeling.

J was very proud that she had a full family: mother and father. It made her feel healthier, better than others somehow. Contrary to S, whose father died when she was a little girl. This thought that she is somehow better than her star friend was something she stuck to, she liked to think about it for a long time, feeling her superiority. She had won the life lottery. That is one core that no one can take from her.

***

When they moved to the big city together, S started working for this media company and was excited about all the new people to meet. J’s job on the contrary was different - she was working in customer support for a wedding agency. All day long she was managing the accounts of K, A and D, speaking to men abroad on their behalf. Those men were foreigners, looking for wives.

J’s task was to ensure each of 3 men that they had a connection with a girl. It was even more – she had to meet the financial KPIs, so she regularly asked for presents, came up with sob stories why the girl needed money.

She never cared it all was a scam. She didn’t know how to do anything else. Even at this job she wasn’t the best, she always got picked on by her manager: “You have to treat those men as cash cows”. She sat at her desk and read a manual:

1. A man sends money when he feels needed. Make him feel needed.
2. Never let him feel secure. Security kills generosity.
3. Ask for small things first. Once he gives small, large becomes easier.
4. A sob story works best when it involves family, health, or an emergency.
5. If he pulls back, increase emotional intimacy, not financial requests.

Good examples of messages:

1. My love, my mental state is so bad right now. Work is so tough I just want one normal evening in a nice restaurant with my friend. Would you make this present for me?
2. When a man truly needs a woman and wants her to be happy, he would give her the world. I don’t need the world, but I would be so happy if you got me those earrings I recently saw. Could you make me happy like that?
3. You are a true family man, cause you care about your mom so much. I am here to find a family, so just a small act would mean your intentions about me are serious: could you send me 300 USD for my health check-up? I was feeling sick lately.

She read it twice, saved the document, and opened her first account of the day.

***

They are sitting with S, just sipping coffee in a cafe downtown.

- You have to get your life under control, learn new things, get a better job than this scamming

- I just want to have a man by my side who would take care of me.

- Forget boys, think about yourself first.

- S, do you even have an idea what is a family? Your father died when you were little, that’s why you can never understand what family is, so just shut up and don’t teach me.

S said nothing.

Having a family and a man had always been her dream. She needed someone who would take care of her, to whom she could talk just as her parents did. Things on this front were not very bright as well. Every relationship she had ended in a scandal, days of swearing and calling each other worst names ever, and then block.

- How is your boyfriend?

- He’s my fiancé, actually.

- Do you still have second thoughts about marrying him?

- I don’t know yet. I said yes, but let’s see what happens.

- It’s easy for you to say that with a ring on your finger. What about all those talks that you have to find yourself and build a career before getting married? How conveniently you have changed your mind. The ring changed you in a moment. And your fiancé. is 10 years older than you, I don’t understand what you are even talking about with him. The time has come for him to marry, that’s why he proposed you so fast after you met. Any woman he met next could become his fiancée.

S just sipped her coffee and stared at the flea market poster on the wall.

- What are you doing in the evening? I have a party to invite you to. My fiancé’s best friend is inviting, all our friends will be there, let’s go!

***

They are sitting on a leather sofa in the middle of a big light room. The wind from the balcony is fresh and a bit cold - it’s early summer and it just rained. DJ decks beside the wall are occupied by the owner of the place - M, who is way too concentrated on mixing 2 tracks. J sneezes - it’s a little dusty in the apartment though for her it looks pretty clean.

Her gaze slides around the room finding interesting stuff around. The picture on a wall draws her attention: a little girl is bent towards a line of glitter. She looks more and more at it. No, that’s definitely a line of glitter. She stands up, walks up to a table to grab a beer and her gaze falls on the bookshelf nearby. Through a pile of art magazines she reads the covers:

Saliut. Female Issue. Creative Confidence. Tom and David Kelley. Second Sex. Simone de Beauvoir. Orthodox Chic.

She takes a shot of tequila and quickly pours it in her mouth. Good stuff! She notices the easel across the room with chaotic childish strokes of paint and writing “COLA OR COKE”?. While opening a beer, she spills it on herself.

- No worries, let’s go, I’ll find you something else to wear

She quietly follows M to the bedroom. First thing she notices is the bright spot - linen on the bed is bloody red with tiny-tiny camomile flowers. The room is light, with parquet and grey paint on the walls. She notices the big 3-sided mirror with photos of a blond girl on it and little boxes on the shelf.

- What did you do to get this cool apartment? It’s the dream.

- Yes, I am very happy that we found it. My girlfriend made most design decisions. Oh, here is the hoodie, take it.

She moves to the bathroom to change. It has the big window and a green ivy. It feels like it needs to be watered. By the sink: Medik8 Press & Glow. Avene. Clearance Gel. Erborian. CC cream. Next to it she sees the tall plastic box which has dark moss on it. A silver ring is placed on it. She went on and put the ring on her finger. It hardly fits. “I wish I had the same ring. Too bad this one doesn’t fit“ – she thinks. She quickly takes off her T-shirt and wears a hoodie. That’s the last thing she remembers from that night.

***

- S, tell me about this guy more.

- This is my fiance’s best friend. He is weird, but fun. Why?

- We got drunk and had sex.

- He has a girlfriend! She is abroad though, but I think they are still together. Do you like him?

- Maybe I do. He lives in a cool apartment.

- He is so lonely now and sad. He needs someone. And he is a good boyfriend, I was watching their relationship with his girlfriend.

- What was it like?

- He was constantly presenting her flowers. Not just the bouquets, but unusual designer flowers. Once she told she wanted to get into painting and the next day he got her an easel and paint.

- Who is she?

- I don’t like her, honestly. She had this crazy job at the best media company. I started getting close to her just cause I want to work at her company. She actually thinks that I am her friend, what the fuck. She makes all of her posts in French on Instagram. Like relax, we got it that you know french. And she is always smiling and so nice to everyone, like come on girl, I don’t trust you. But she is not here, J. She is not here.

- The girlfriend is not a wall, she can move.

- Exactly, and she moved abroad and left him here alone. How could she do that? So he is free. I will help you, J. You know how easy it is to manipulate the guys. I’ll ask him again and again where R is.

- I mean she left, and he is free.

- I could go visit her. What if she is already in another relationship. She thinks we are friends, so I might even be able to stay at her place in Paris. Why not?

***

S was a good friend. She handled everything.

- Why is your girlfriend not here?

J and M hung out again.

- Are you sure she still loves you? She is building a new life in Paris.

J and M got wasted at a party and spent the night together again. She wore the same hoodie home.

- M, she left you behind, you have to break up.

J and M are lying in bed. They hung out together for a couple of days. The bedroom corner has gathered a pile of empty beer bottles and pizza packs.

J takes a selfie and posts it to her stories.

- What are we?

- It’s a hard question. I like you. But you know that I have a girlfriend.

- A girlfriend that left you. She is not here. And I am here.

- It’s complicated.

- Do you still love her?

- It’s complicated, but she is a great person and the healthiest relationship I’ve ever had.

- I want something serious. I want a relationship and to start a family. You seem like a guy who would want the same. We have to be together.

- Can we just go on like this?

- My mental state is so bad right now that I can handle only an official relationship. Would you like to make us happy like that? Can you be a man?

- I have to handle things with R. She comes to visit me in a week.

- She left you behind, and I am here. Either you break up with her or I tell her that you cheated with me. There is no other way.

***

They didn’t see each other for 3 weeks. Finally they meet.

- I broke up with R. She went back to Paris.

- I don’t care. I have big problems now, you know. Maybe I have to come back to my home city. Could you help me somehow, please? You care about me, right?

- I can do whatever you need. Wanna stay at my place?

- Are we moving in together? Wow, you did take my words seriously. I am so happy!

In a week M surprised her with flowers. They were unusual, designer ones - she had seen this kind before, in photos on his phone she had secretly checked. The apartment was almost the same as she remembered. The easel still had “COLA OR COKE?” on it. The ivy in the bathroom had lost two leaves. The ring from the moss box and skincare were gone, though.

- R’s friend will come to pick up her easel and books later.

***

J lies in bed on the same bloody-red linen with tiny-tiny camomile flowers. She makes a selfie. She posts it to Instagram. The photo gets likes. She smiles at her phone.