M For Moscow

01 | see you soon

If the old version of my mother saw me now, sprawled butt-naked, breasts planted on his chest and baby in the next room, she would've called me a 'сука' and banished me from the dacha to sleep with the dogs.

But she was 6,660 kilometres away and no one was stopping me.

How did my life change from just another gymnasium girl from Yuzhno-Sakhalinsk to the CEO of Moscow's hottest fashion magazine?

You'll have to read on to find out.

***

Three interesting facts about me.

Three interesting facts about me.

"I'm the oldest in a family of five, I used to own a cat and on Sundays, we have church."

"Anya, you're aware we asked for three interesting facts, right?" The thick red-lipped lady asked in Russian.

I nodded my head, like the eighteen-year-old naive girl I was that did not understand sarcasm.

I watched as she muttered something under her breath to the man beside her, who agreed with an unnecessarily loud sigh and a pitiful look my way.

"So, I didn't get it?" I asked, wanting to save myself from the embarrassment.

"Нет."

***

"This is the fifth job interview you've blown in a week, Anya! I cannot afford to be the only one juggling two jobs while feeding four kids! You need to get a job, any job." she said. She tried to talk as softly as she could without my younger brothers hearing, but from the way they were sniffling in the living room told me they heard everything.

"Mama, I will. Just give me time." I tried calming her down so the puppy-like whimpering would stop. I used my hands to gesture for her to sit down on one of the stools in her room while I took the wobbly chair. "I promise you, Mama, I will find a job by Sunday. If not, I will fly to Moscow in search of work."

My mother looked up to me with a glisten in her eyes. To most people, this would be a sentimental moment that would be full of joy, something you'd gush at. But I knew better as soon as she grabbed my hair and pulled me down to her eye-level.

She talked in the same hushed, threatening voice I've heard all my life. The one that scared me when I was awake and haunted me when I was asleep.

"Listen to me, An-ya. If you don't get a job in the next... three days, you can say, 'До свиданья forever.' to your brothers."

My face did a horrible job of not looked offended. It contorted in the most embarrassing of ways. I should've gotten used to the not-so-empty (as proven before) threats, the breaking down of my name whenever she was mad. Most of all, I should've gotten used to the cold words she had no problem using on me but not on anyone else. But instead, I dipped my head and nodded solemnly.

"Do we have a deal?"

Give it up to Yulia Morozova to offer a handshake deal to her one and only daughter.

I bit back my pride, swallowed my sadness and said hand-in-hand, "We do."

***

"Please, Mr. Ivanov! You have to help me. You're my last hope." I begged through the phone at seven in the morning. The coil was wrapped so tightly around my finger that I imagined it would cut the circulation to my thumb as the conversation did to my brain.