Strangers

That night we went down twenty-two steps into the basement where the sax was playing. What happened down there still hasn’t been told to anyone.

When Carla asked if I wanted to do it again, I already knew my answer before she finished the sentence. What I didn’t know was how far I was willing to go that night.

I opened the door for him to shelter from the downpour. I never imagined I’d end up on my knees in front of him, or that his four friends would come knocking too.

I knocked on the seventh-floor door with the bucket in my hand and my heart racing. Neither of us believed in the cleaning excuse anymore, and I stopped caring.

I crossed my arms to hide what the theater’s cold had betrayed in me. Then he sat beside me without asking, as if the seat were his.

I went down those basement stairs with my heart in my throat, and before I even thought twice, I was already on my knees in the back booth.

I charged a lot and chose who I was with. That yacht invitation looked like any other, until the one man who didn’t touch me turned up on the beach.

I shaved, put on the wig and heels, and talked to the camera as if someone might really show up. One night, someone did.

That first night beneath the streetlamp, with the cold cutting my face, I realized my androgyny could be a weapon. I only had to hold out until I had the body I’d always wanted.

When the old man said, “Come for fifteen days and don’t ask questions,” I should have refused. Instead, I grabbed my bag and climbed into his truck.

I climbed those stairs with my heart racing, never imagining I would leave the apartment transformed, with a woman’s name on my lips.

I locked the dressing room, opened the suitcase, and stopped being Tomás. That night at the club, I had no idea my own boss would push the door open.

Five of the boss’s friends, a rented house, and a poker game. Diego knew how I’d be dressed on every round; no one knew how the night would end.

I dialed the number he gave me on the road without knowing his name. In two hours he’d be at my door, and I’d already put on the blonde wig and my highest heels.

The meter had expired, and he was already kneeling with the wheel clamp. I had only a few seconds to convince him another way.

I confessed the fantasy at eleven thirty at night. By two in the morning, the date was locked in and I was more scared than she was.

When she opened the hidden folder on her phone and turned the screen toward me, I realized the shy girl had finally dared to tell it all.

I got off the plane not knowing that trip would end with his hand gripping my waist in the sand, and me wishing morning would never come.

I’m not looking for love or promises. That afternoon I saw him cross the square and knew exactly what I wanted to ask, though I’d never dared go that far before.

I opened the cabin door expecting an empty bunk and found five half-dressed strangers. That same night I understood why I travel alone.