I have always been suspicious of the fairy tale about Cinderella. Firstly, I was not attracted by this situation: to find the prince, you need to wash mountains of dishes, dig up kilometers of beds and wash hectares of floors. I had no desire for housework. Instead of being friends with the mop, I would throw such a scandal at this dad that his bitch wife would seem to him a bastion of humility and virtue! ...A millionaire, aka a prince, it seemed to me, is a person who earns his millions solely in order to spend them on someone like me. ... Of course, millionaires don’t ride the subway, and I went public to illuminate the life of some prince with the radiance of pure passion. But it turned out that I’m not the only one so smart - I met many girls who dreamed of a prince, and each had their own wall of fame and defeat.