«You know that if my father finds out he'll cut off my...»

Michela was listening to Flavia with a furrowed brow.

«... he'll cut off my already limited concessions» Flavia resolved on the fly.

She was tense. Fresh from the trauma of the leg waxing imposed by her friend, she kept repeating to herself: «This is not my life, this is not my body, this is not my identity...»

Michela in the meantime dragged her along by an arm, preceding her in the ascent of a tree-lined avenue in Villa Borghese.

«Don't worry» she encouraged her, «they pay well and you'll have fun. If they take you, you can solve all your problems!»

All of a sudden planting her feet, under the tree-lined vault of the wide pedestrian avenue, Flavia forced her friend to stop in front of her.

The large flow of people strolling on Saturday afternoon passed quietly next to them, and although they didn't pay much attention to the two girls, Flavia had felt all eyes on her since they had left Michela's house, where she had gone to change so that Fabrizio wouldn't see her.

«Stop! Enough, I can't do it...»

For Flavia it was way too much. She had already endured unspeakable efforts to impersonate Claudia and with this last one she was exceeding her limits. As much as the experience intrigued her, as much as she was tempted to try, as much as she needed money and to feel independent as she had always been in her previous life, she didn't feel capable.

Period.

She had liked the reflection in the mirror that she had contemplated with Michela before leaving. It made her want to become a man again even more, so that she could enjoy it better.

She was wearing a black skirt, so short that she would never have dreamed of wearing it since she had become a woman. Her shoulders and navel were exposed by a white shirt so small that it looked more like a top, while her ankles were wrapped by the hem of pearl beige boots with golden reflections.

A few minutes' walk from there was the Reflections, which Flavia knew to be the kind of disco where the number of aspiring patrons far exceeds that of those admitted at the entrance.

It was impossible not to notice how Michela was all happy to express her gratitude to Flavia. There had been no way to refuse her support, to make her understand that there was nothing she should feel indebted for, that it was not her friend Claudia who received the fruits of her efforts.

«We're here now! Please, Claudia, I beg you!» urged Michela, hopeful.

Flavia's nerves were beyond exposed by now. «Don't call me Claudia anymore!» she raised her voice.

Michela petrified and let go of Flavia's arm, defeated. «I'm sorry... forgive me,» she stammered, holding back tears. «It's all my fault, I'm so sorry, you have no idea.»

Shaken by Michela's expression, Flavia came back to her senses. «What? What are you sorry for? What's your fault?»

«That you have to work, that you can't go out and have fun anymore...»

«Of course not! Why would you say that?»

«I put the idea in your head to change schools.»

«That's not true, I would have done it anyway,» Flavia admitted. She smiled while enduring something that weighed on her conscience. She decided to grit her teeth and please Michela. «Come on, don't even think about it, seriously. Let's go to that disco.»

After receiving a nod of approval from the bouncers who were selecting the small crowd of young teenagers at the entrance, Flavia and Michela passed the sign indicating free entry for girls and plunged into the noise inside the venue.

«But... they're all kids!» exclaimed Flavia.

«What? I can't hear you!» Michela shouted.

Flavia quickly adjusted her expectations of the venue with what she was seeing. Obviously, the afternoon disco was not the same as the one Claudia had taken him to see at night when she was still an adult male.

«Now what?» she asked Michela in her ear. «Whom do I talk to to get hired?»

«I don't know. Let me have a look around. In the meantime, try asking that girl over there, she just came down from the dance podium,» Michela replied, extending her arm towards a girl whose facial muscles seemed to be in a deep coma.

Despite the apathy etched on her face, she was one of the most attractive and provocative girls Flavia had seen in a while. She was insecure and felt a budding fear at the prospect of talking to a stranger.

«I don't know, she doesn't seem to be in a good mood...» Flavia doubted.

«So what? What do you expect her to do to you?»

Flavia thought that even though she still knew herself as a "he", she now looked like, girl. A very nervous one.

«That's true, you're right... I mean, it's not like I'm a schoolboy trying to hit on her, is it?»

«What's gotten into your head now? Hurry up, go to her before she disappears!»

«Okay, okay! I'm going...»

The go-go dancer must have been a couple of years older than Flavia. She was at the bar, getting something to drink and regaining some energy.

«Hey, hi,» Flavia greeted as she approached with shy steps. «I saw you on the podium...»

The girl looked at her with indolence. «So what, are you a lesbian or something?»

Flavia was stunned. She wondered how she could have guessed it already. After a moment of dismay, indignation and contempt took over Flavia's face, though.

She tried to understand why she was suddenly feeling offended. After all, calling someone a lesbian is neither an offense nor an insult, not to mention that, now that she was no longer a man, she was indeed a lesbian.

She felt offended, yes, and not because the other girl had guessed, who knows how, that she was a lesbian, but simply because she had been rude.

Neither as Flavio nor as Flavia had she ever reacted with the indignation that she was feeling at that moment. But this time she would do it, she would not swallow it as she had imposed on herself for her entire previous life.

She sharpened her gaze like a werewolf's fangs and curled her lips into a mocking smirk.

«Unless you want to get involved with with me, that's none of your business. But I can introduce you to a friend of mine, if you're into girls.»

The dancer widened her eyes for a fraction of a second, then frowned, then opened her mouth in the hope of finding something to reply. Flavia, noticing her hesitation, took advantage of it to anticipate her in speaking.

«I know they hire girls here. Who should I talk to?»

«The manager is over there, the room on the right» answered the girl, pointing to a door with push-plates at the top of some steps.

«Thank you, you're very kind» Flavia smiled at her before turning her back.

Through the octagonal portholes of the doors, she could catch a glimpse of a short corridor illuminated by faint neon tubes. She motioned for Michela to join her, and together they made their way to the room indicated by the go-go dancer.

More than an office, it looked like a lounge. In the center, a low and rectangular table with a glass surface was surrounded by sofas upholstered in burgundy velvet. Leaning against the walls, a couple of wooden furniture pieces displayed half-empty shelves with scattered folders and promotional material.

At eye level, some monitors received images from closed-circuit cameras inside and outside the venue. On the wall opposite the entrance, a window about twenty centimeters high stretched over almost the entire wall to give a view of the inside of the disco.

At the table, a man worked on a notebook, surrounded by flyers and paper forms.

Flavia knocked on the already open white lacquered door and the manager turned around. «What are you girls looking for?»

The young man had a physique visibly maintained by diet and exercise. A dark goatee and thin eyebrows drawn with painstaking precision stood out on his face, which was unusually tanned for October. The wire of an earpiece ran behind his ear to connect to a walkie-talkie attached to his belt. Flavia estimated that he must have been under thirty.

«I read that you're after young girls,» tempted Michela.

The manager sized them up her with an ambiguous smile.

«For the podium!» Flavia hurried to point out.

«Ah, you are aspiring dancers!» exclaimed the man, widening his smile. «Come on in.»

He stood up with a scenic flourish and, after having introed himself as Renato, crowd mix leader and vibe energizing manager of the Reflections' young area, approached the girls with tightrope-like steps, extending his hand in an ethereal grip and asked for their names.

He circled around them with ostentatious concentration, examining them without caring about appearing intrusive.

«Yes... yes...» he hissed, feigning little conviction.

«Um, actually I'm not interested,» Michela beat a retreat.

Flavia issued a sentence of desertion on the spot and executed the sentence by casting an incinerating glance at her.

«Ah,» Renato intoned, surprised. «What a pity, I thought you might have the potential to be in the groove with us.»

He dwelled on his own disappointment the time of a sigh and then sprang to life like a spring on legs.

«Well, Flavia... come on, let me see how you boogie,» he said preceding her to the door.

Behind the self-proclaimed vibe energizing manager, Flavia approached Michela's ear.

«He's a little moody, this guy,» she whispered.

«Moody him? And what about you, then?»

Back in the main hall, Renato nodded to the girl with whom Flavia had spoken and who had returned to dance in her spot. She came down from her pedestal with the vitality of a mannequin, and Renato shouted to Flavia through the noise, «The podium is all yours!»

Flavia was growing tense and insecure, but something about the experience made her excited, and the idea of trying seduced her with a strange thrill. Risking and trying. "Who cares, it's not like anyone here knows I'm a man..." she thought to gather her courage, then she adjusted her top with a grimace ready to set off on her pearl beige boots.

Just before she walked away, Michela hurried to chastise her, «Watch that face, smile!»

On the steps in front of the push door, Renato and Michela watched with folded arms as Flavia climbed the platform with the effort of climbing a mountain. She swept the room with her gaze and, unsure of what to do with her arms, pushed herself to follow the pounding rhythm, hoping that by moving and wriggling, she could shake off her discomfort.

She saw Renato wrinkle his nose while saying something to Michela, and she could have sworn she read the word "wooden" on his lips. She noticed that Michela had swallowed hard before smiling at him and inventing an excuse to buy some time.

Flavia felt her clumsiness weigh on her as if all eyes were on her, spraying her with webs of ridicule. She sighed and abandoned all effort.

Claudia was able to dance as if her body had been designed for that purpose. Flavia wondered why having the same body as Claudia wasn't enough for her. She thought about it for a moment and then realized that there was nothing to think about. Claudia wouldn't have thought about it. She wouldn't have cared, not at all.

So Flavia decided not to care either. She stretched, closing her eyes and huffing in refusal to please the world that had stolen her body, her life, and her death, and let her new body cradle her in the sensation of being alive and in the best physical shape she had ever been.

Suddenly, the pounding music wasn't as unpleasant to her as before. Although her ears were on a defiant strike, her muscles were receiving a pleasant sensation of vitality, like a current rhythmically massaging them. Flavia began to follow the current that tickled her limbs and realized that for a moment she could allow herself to let go and enjoy the sensation.

She opened her eyes and saw a group of boys huddled around her, staring at her with semi-dazed expressions. She let out a satisfied smile as she felt Claudia's muscles taking over from her neck down.

A swarm of male adolescents began to grow thicker and thicker around Flavia's podium. Michela raised her thumb, and with a sense of liberation illuminating her gaze, she turned to peek at Renato's forcedly skeptical face.

«Yes... I must say she's not doing so bad,» the manager conceded. Then made showy gestures in the air and mimicked an impatient applause for Flavia, inviting her to join him.

«Well, my dear, let me explain a bit about how we jam here, what our bass line is...» he started once they returned to the office-lounge. «The Reflections' young area track aims to expand... to drop it to a younger audience while maintaining the... historical remix and image of the venue. We want, that is, to be known by a wide range of young people, so that we can pick a, let's say... lit and funky clientele.»

Flavia and Michela looked at him disoriented. To Flavia, it seemed like Renato was busy following the thread of words in an ethereal and fabulous world, lost in the clouds. Suddenly, she saw him falling from his thought-cloud.

«Well, sweetheart...» the manager resumed with a down-to-earth expression, fixing his gaze on Flavia. «Your makeup is a real banger just like that, so fresh, light... groovy. You have a truly stunning face, let me tell you.»

«Yes, I know,» confirmed Flavia, distracted, thinking about Claudia's beauty.

Renato blinked, surprised.

«Oh my, aren't we sour...» he chuckled, condescending. «Just so you know, I have other interests,» he whispered, winking at her.

«Yes, of course, me too...» Flavia agreed relaxed, while Michela struggled to grasp the meaning of the conversation.

«Even the outfit has a fine vibe. Unlike other venues, providing uniforms with our brand is not quite our tempo. However...» Renato added, pursing his lips in a dissatisfied grimace, «regarding the skirt, don't you have something more appealing to our VIPs?»

Flavia stiffened, mentally refusing to wear something even more provocative than that skirt.

Without waiting for an answer, Renato continued explaining his vision.

«This venue has an exclusive, classy image. It would be better if you wore something more... chill. I think shorts would really suit you. What do you think?»

«Oh...» Flavia relaxed. «Sure, I agree!»

«Good. Before you leave, I need to give you some promotional material. I suggest you distribute it a few hours before coming here tomorrow» he said, handing her a stack of flyers. Then he pressed a button on the walkie-talkie and spoke into the microphone hanging from his ear.

«Juicy Pear in administration, please,» he said in a supermarket cashier tone. «I'll introduce you to a guy from the security band, so they know you're jamming with us.»

A few moments later, "Juicy Pear" knocked on the white lacquered door, and Renato let in a stocky, red-haired guy.

«This is...» Renato began to introduce him.

«Giuseppe!» Flavia exclaimed, her heart pounding.

«Do we know each other?» Giuseppe asked, bewildered.

Flavia noticed Michela and Renato's curious expressions from the corner of her eye, then looked back at Giuseppe.

«It's written on your Badge...» she pointed with her finger.

Giuseppe checked his chest, and Michela and Renato leaned forward, squinting.

«Wow, what an eyesight... lucky you, you'll never need glasses,» Renato commented, then retracted his neck and resumed the introductions. «Giuseppe Orsini parties here with us every weekend. This is Flavia, and she'll be part of our ensemble starting tomorrow.»

As they walked away from the Reflections, Michela, with a radiant expression, started hopping next to Flavia.

«Did you see? Did you see?» she rejoiced, holding onto her friend's arm.

«I still can't believe it...» Flavia murmured, lost in thought.

«Aren't you happy about the job?» Michela insisted, enthusiastic.

Flavia gave her a smile and pulled her closer to give her a kiss on the cheek.

«I'm even happier to have you as a friend.»