La venganza
Tocó la puerta e inmediatamente le abrieron. La oficina, aunque pequeña y minimalista, era lujosa, vio la chica del antifaz cuando ya estaba adentro. Susie vio el antifaz e interrogó con la mirada:
_Quiero mantener mi identidad reservada. -señaló la chica y se llevó la mano al rostro.
_Ok. No tengo ningún problema con eso. La secretaria tiene una hora para almorzar, así que tenemos suficiente tiempo para informarte cuál es el plan -expresó Susie y las dos chicas entraron en una pequeña sala lateral y cerraron la puerta.
Luego de una hora, Susie abrió una carpeta y sacó un documento frente a la chica del antifaz:
_Firme aquí -pidió Susie y al ver cierto nerviosismo en la otra chica, aseguró - No tiene de que preocuparse. Tengo la chica perfecta para ese trabajo. Es una ex convicta en la que podemos confiar. Así que la chica del antifaz firmó estar de acuerdo con el plan.
Priya subió al escenario como a la 12 de la noche, hora en la que ya había corrido alcohol y otras sustancias por la fiesta. Cuando bajó del escenario, un chico le entregó una copa y un papel doblado. Priya tomó las dos cosas y se alejó de la gente. Cuando leyó el papel, a sus labios se asomó una leve sonrisa: todo estaba saliendo como se había planeado.
Luego de unos minutos, Priya se vio caminando por un largo pasillo, buscando una puerta de madera. Cuando la encontró, la abrió y adentro había un hombre pequeño, de un 1,50, calvo, con un conato de panza puntiaguda y con una risita burlona:
_Yo soy el hombre que andas buscando. Puedo darte todo lo que quieres. Eres mujer y este ambiente está hecho para hombres. Sin embargo, depende de ti que llegues a donde quieres -dijo el pequeño hombre mirando de frente a Priya, con ojos libidinosos, inyectados de deseo, y bajando lentamente la cremallera de su pantalón. Priya vio al hombre y con una sonrisa sexy, cerró la puerta con cuidado, pensando: "Cayó el ratón".
Cuando la gran joven cantante y esposa del productor bajó de su auto, los periodistas corrieron a hacerle preguntas:
_¿Qué tienes qué decir? -preguntaban los comunicadores.
_No sé qué decir. ¡Yo también estoy sorprendida! -expresó la chica, que caminó rápido entre las cámaras y agarró fuerte su bolso, donde llevaba un antifaz multicolor y un pequeño perfume Eden Roc, de Christian Dior.
HASTA UNA PRÓXIMA OPORTUNIDAD, AMIGOS
[Versión en inglés]
The revenge
The girl arrived at about 11 a.m., an hour ahead of schedule. She stopped her car in front of the small office on Trump Street. The smoked windows of the vehicle allowed her to maintain a certain anonymity, a certain clandestinity in that commercial area of the city. From there she could see a girl leaving the office at 12 o'clock. That was the signal for her to enter, so before getting out, she sprayed some of her Eden Roc perfume and put on her mask: Susie was waiting for her inside.
She knocked on the door and immediately the door was opened for her. The office, although small and minimalist, was luxurious, the girl in the mask saw when she was already inside. Susie saw the mask and questioned with her eyes:
_I want to keep my identity reserved. -She pointed at the girl and put her hand to her face.
Okay. I don't have a problem with that. The secretary has an hour for lunch, so we have enough time to let you know what the plan is,” Susie expressed and the two girls entered a small side room and closed the door.
After an hour, Susie opened a folder and took out a document in front of the girl with the mask:
Sign me here, Susie asked and seeing some nervousness in the other girl, she assured, _You have nothing to worry about. I have the perfect girl for the job. She's an ex-con we can trust. So the girl with the mask signed off on the plan.
A week later, at a luxurious club in the city, a reception was being held for certain powerful men in the music industry. Musicians, producers, record label presidents were gathered at what was to be the party of the year. There were also invited bands and solo artists who were trying to make a name for themselves in the entertainment industry. Among the latter was Priya, a tall, curvaceous brunette, about six feet tall, wearing a mask and attracting attention wherever she went.
Priya went on stage at about 12 o'clock at night, by which time alcohol and other substances had already flowed through the party. When she came down from the stage, a boy handed her a cup and a folded piece of paper. Priya took both and walked away from the crowd. When she read the paper, a faint smile appeared on her lips: everything was going as planned.
After a few minutes, Priya found herself walking down a long corridor, looking for a wooden door. When she found it, she opened it and inside was a small man, about 5'5”, bald, with a pointy belly and a mocking chuckle:
_I am the man you are looking for. I can give you everything you want. You are a woman and this environment is made for men. However, it's up to you to get where you want to go,” said the small man looking straight at Priya, with libidinous eyes, injected with desire, and slowly unzipping his pants.
Priya saw the man and with a sexy smile, she carefully closed the door, thinking: “The mouse has fallen”.
The next day, all over social networks and in the country's major media, one of the country's top producers was being accused of influence peddling, rape, extortion and misogyny. With audiovisual and photographic evidence, the renowned producer was accused by not one, but many women who had been his victims.
When the great young singer and wife of the producer got out of her car, reporters rushed to ask her questions:
_What do you have to say? -asked the reporters.
I don't know what to say. I'm surprised too,” said the girl, who walked quickly between the cameras and grabbed her purse, where she carried a multicolored mask and a small Eden Roc perfume by Christian Dior.