Kira Modest

Chapter 7

The alarm clock rings  — the cheerful voices of Polina and Lera. I look at my watch. Oh God! It's already 1 p.m... How did I manage to oversleep for so long?  Apparently, yesterday really took a toll on me emotionally; I tormented myself with a stream of thoughts. And the first thing that came to my mind in the morning, or rather in the afternoon, was that I haven't changed my mind about going there. Well, of course not, Kira. It would be truly surprising. Because I never change my decision once I've made it, especially if I'm determined.

Today is Sunday. The laughter of the girls doesn't subside. I crawl out from under the warm blanket, slip into my home slippers and robe, and follow the sounds of laughter leading me to the kitchen.

"Well, well, well. The kitchen is all in flour...oh, and the wall suffered just as much. What were you doing here, you vandals?" I ask with a smile.

"Oh, the princess woke up. You could sleep your whole life away." Lera quips in a friendly manner.

"And we had a little bet on who could cook a better pizza. As a neutral party, you'll try them both and tell us whose is tastier."

"Oh... and what about the wall?"  I note the long red stripe on the wall, seemingly splattered with ketchup.

"Oh," Lera laughs, "we were fighting over the ketchup. So, whose pizza will you try first?"

"Well, I love pizza. Maybe you should argue more often and feed me in the mornings?" I propose, winking my eyebrows.

"Oh, dream on. It's a one-time deal, roommate." Polina laughs.

I try the pizza. Mmm, the girls cook pretty well. Someone will get lucky with them. They'll be feeding their husbands with pizza. 

"Well, what can I say," I chew and continue with my mouth full, "not bad. But I could cook a tastier one." I burst into laughter.

"What?!" Polina laughs in response. "Give back my piece." She exclaims, trying to snatch it, while Lera laughs at the unfolding scene.

"No-o," I shout, "I won' give it back; it's already mine." I laugh and run into the room, finishing the last bites on the way. 

"Don't come back for seconds." Lera shouts at me, laughing. 

"And you'll be making dinner in the evening." Polina adds.

The girls have lifted my spirits, and I suddenly feel more energized; the sleepiness has vanished.

Alright, it's time to get ready for that club. For some reason, I'm confident that I'll impress the choreographer, and they'll take me. I used to take dance lessons, and my coaches praised me. I'm not stiff; I have good flexibility and decent moves. Heck, 'I'm plastic and beautiful', I assure myself, looking in the mirror. 

I find myself filled with wild curiosity and anticipation. I love trying something new. I can feel butterflies in my stomach from the excitement of the unknown. What awaits me at the rehearsals?

Judging by what I saw yesterday, it doesn't seem too difficult. Perhaps the choreographer will show me a couple of sexy moves, and I should be able to execute them. Rubbing against the pole, like the girls did yesterday, shouldn't be that hard either. I can't help but desire to showcase my skills, hoping for praise and hearing those words: 'We take you!' 

Once ready, I head to the club.

I already know where to enter. Fortunately, a different guard stands at the entrance, and his attitude doesn't irritate me like the previous one. This one seems much calmer, almost indifferent. It's as if he's grown tired of dealing with girls and everything related to them. Does he dislike his job?