Lingerie

I hadn’t dressed in two years. Then I found the key to the room the owner told me not to open, and inside was everything I needed.

By day he was the perfect atelier assistant; by night he tried on lace before the mirror. One photo was enough for someone to discover who he really was.

I shaved everything, put on the blonde wig, and crossed the province with a backpack full of hope. What I didn’t bring was a heart of steel, and that was my mistake.

I just wanted to feel girly for a while under my guy clothes. I never imagined he’d notice, or that that night would end with me on my knees before him.

When my friend opened the bag, there was no uniform at all: just wings, a garter belt, and fishnet stockings. And the trailer was already waiting to roll.

I didn’t come seeking pleasure. I came to remember a buried desire: soft skin, curves, feeling desired. And she gave me permission.

I painted my lips against the trunk, convinced I was alone. Then I heard the crackle of leaves and knew someone had been watching me for a while.

I signed my resignation without looking back. That night would be the last fuck of my life as a man, and I meant to enjoy it before becoming who Carla had always wanted.

I left the curtain half-open on purpose. That afternoon wasn’t just for Adrián and me: someone else was waiting for the show from across the street.

In the mirror, with my lips painted and my heels on, I saw no one in disguise: I saw the woman I always wanted to be when I let go.

I arrived at his door carrying a bag with my other skin inside it: corset, stockings, and heels. That night I stopped being Adrian and gave myself wholly as Selene.

I put on the wine-colored dress he had chosen, took a deep breath, and understood that night would be the real gift: finally feeling like the woman I had always been.

She knocked on their door soaked by the rain, without pride and with nothing to offer but her body. They looked at her, looked at each other, and she knew it was all beginning again.

The first time I saw myself in the mirror wearing the red dress, I knew Daniela would no longer be content to come out only when the town was asleep.

She gave me a hundred euros in tip for a three-kilometer ride. It took me two days to understand the money was only the beginning of what she wanted.

When the director’s assistant handed me the bag with the lingerie, I knew there was no turning back: that night belonged to every man in that room.

I put on the red heels, the baby doll, and the wig, placed a random order, and waited for a stranger to knock on my door in the rain.

I told him he’d left a T-shirt behind just to get him to my table. What he found that night bore no resemblance to the wife he left.

He was twenty-seven, had a girlfriend, and led an orderly life. Then a neighbor looked at him on the bus as if he knew what Tobías dared not name.

It was after eleven, everyone was asleep, and the rain was falling hard. I thought I’d just go get wet in the patio for a while. I had no idea how far I was going to dare to go that night.