I will do anything to get famous, the Russian girl puts her hair behind her ear and stairs naively into the room.
Like in a dramatic movie I almost spit out my expensive white wine. Did I understood that correctly? I stare at her, wondering if she realizes the meaning of those words.
The room becomes quiet and the old men are silent for a couple of seconds, like lions observing their prey.
Although I wish to stand up immediately and remove myself out of this situation, I stay put.
There is an annoying professionality about me, which refuses me to leave situations that are getting unprofessional, or even worse… dirty.
I assume she is 16, all alone in a big unknown city with no knowledge of the culture, language, food and communication manners.
Maybe her family sent her to the other side of the world to make money as a model. I imagine how people claimed her to become a famous and rich model if she puts her signature under that golden modeling contract.
Little did she know those golden days are over and the world of modeling has become a battlefield for every little job. The era of topmodels is over and no agency pays the high apartments and travel expenses anymore.
Perhaps she is looking for an alternative job, trying to find a rich old man who might just support her in exchange for.. well we all know it.
It’s not even the matter if she perhaps mentioned: I will do anything to get famous, because being famous equals happiness.
One of the men stands up, offering a tour through the house.
Butlers, cleaning ladies, expensive paintings, expensive furniture, expensive everything. If I wouldn’t have known any better I believed I was walking in a museum.
The man stops in front of the bedroom, saying something inaudible to the girl.
I see her face expression changing, spotting fear in her eyes. The atmosphere changed drastically.
I’m done with the situation. I raise my voice and ask for a taxi to take me back home. “Such a tiresome day it was today” I smile.
With some weak arguments they try to keep me there, but I stand my ground. “I think you are also tired right?” I turn around to the terrified girl.
She nods her head anxiously. “Please take her home also”. I’m not afraid of what perhaps might happen. I know that in these kind of houses walls are silent and whatever happens will remain there. Rich people have power. The man looks at me for a couple of seconds and sighs “Ok”.
As I see the taxi driving away with Russian girl I ask myself what the hell she was thinking. What would have happened if I wasn’t there. Would she have stood up for herself?
I enter my taxi and close the door. I don’t know and frankly, I don’t want to know.