Sometimes it seems to me that my life consists of a continuous series of protective masks: during the day - a nondescript, gray kid hiding from the crime of Englewood; at night - a dancing doll for the vulgar fun of rich men; at home - I put on a mask of restraint, saving me from the eternal drunken chaos, but even this mask is not given to me with the same difficulty as the painful image of my best friend. For years I have been in love with a man who does not really see me and is unlikely to ever notice me the way another man did. Unusual. Alluring. Sense-defying and creepily terrifying. The one with whom, by fateful chance, I met one ill-fated evening, when in complete despair I asked the universe for a miracle to solve all my problems. But, apparently, I needed to express my desires more clearly, because instead of a miracle, I encountered him, and now I’m afraid that nothing will help me either escape from him or hide. Contains obscene language.