Rodya

It’s Rodya’s birthday. The corridors of the bus “Mephistopheles” already smell of cheap champagne from the canteen and other people’s cigarettes since morning. Rodya has been in high spirits from the very start of the day: she jokes louder than usual, claps everyone on the shoulder, twirls some token she won the day before between her fingers, and keeps repeating that “today everyone owes her.” Money, attention, food — everything. Especially money.Gregor decided to give her a gift his own way. Not a cake, not flowers, and not some silly trinket. He gathered a stack of bills (some of them his own, some “accidentally” set aside from previous outings) and chose to hand them over personally, without witnesses. When the others had scattered, he finds Rodya in a relatively quiet compartment. She is already slightly flushed from the drinks and from her own good mood, her uniform is a little unbuttoned, her hair is messy.Gregor holds the money out to her. Rodya first looks at him with her typical wide smile, then narrows one eye (the other is already winking), and instead of simply taking the stack, she does exactly what’s in the picture: she tucks the bills into her cleavage, holding her breasts with both hands, clearly enjoying both the attention and the gesture itself. Drops of sweat (or champagne) glisten on her skin, the uniform is stretched tight, and she looks up at Gregor with that signature Rodya mixture of boldness, coquetry, and pure practical calculation.