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Katya wakes up feeling her body on fire. It’s not even 4 in the morning and this bedroom must be hotter than the fucking Death Valley, she thinks to herself. The mattress creaks as she gets up to open the window, dying for the fresh air to embrace her sweaty body. Her girlfriend mumbles in bed and Katya wonders if she misses her by her side or if it was just the sudden temperature change that bugged her. She hates air conditioners, so Katya is already used to not being able to sleep well every time she spends the night.
She lights a cigarette and leans her body over the windowsill, trying to observe the stars. There are no clouds tonight, but it doesn't matter, Katya already knows the only stars she can see in LA are the ones on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Fucking air pollution, she sighs, missing the small town back in Russia where she once lived. She misses the snow, the farm animals, and, most of all, she misses the stars in the sky.
Katya grew up being a tough kid. She had to. The human mind can be tricky, making old memories foggy, but she would never forget the night that changed everything. It was late April, only a few days before her 5th birthday, when her family had to leave their house in a rush. Her father had messed with the wrong people and came home that night with missing fingers in one hand. How could she ever forget about all that blood staining the sleeve of his coat? Or her mom packing desperately? Or how she looked around for Zvezda , her little cat, but she was nowhere to be found, so Katya didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye.
They traveled from town to town for a while, but the Russian mob always finds a way to finish their business. Then, it was only Katya and her mom. The poor woman barely knew how to sign her own name, so it was only a matter of time until both of them ended up in the streets. To be honest, Katya had never cared about not having a home, or how the coldness used to turn her little nails purple, or being forgotten hungry in an alley while her mom was selling her body in exchange for a single crack stone. She didn’t care, because she had the beautiful starry sky to keep her company and it was enough.
Eventually, Katya was taken into foster care. The system can suck and, for her, it was a pure nightmare for a couple of years. She had to deal with three problematic families before finally being adopted by The Velours, a lovely Russian family from Los Angeles. And this is how Katya ended up in the City of Angels.
They taught her everything: her passion for arts, music and languages. For the first time, Katya felt loved, but something was still missing. She was sharing the backseat once with her half-sister Sasha, while her new parents drove back home after a long sunny day in Malibu. "Sestra, why don’t we see any stars?" , Sasha asked, leaning over Katya's body to look outside the window. "They never show up here and, when they do, they are not that pretty,'' Katya replied, tenderly stroking her sister's ginger hair. 20 years had passed, but she vividly recalls the way stars used to glimmer over the deep dark sky in Russia.
“Katya?”
Her girlfriend's hoarse voice calls her through the silent night, bringing her back to reality. Katya's heart skips a beat as she turns around. The bedroom is immersed in the shadows, but she’s still able to see the other’s silhouette sitting on the bed: her long hair is cascading over her shoulders, covering her exposed chest; the sheets are tangles on her long pale legs; and her arms are wrapping her own tiny little waist. Katya asks herself if those dark eyes would be full of lust, scanning her slim body in the silver moonlight, wearing nothing but a black lace bra and matching panties. She squeezes her thighs briefly to the idea of being desired.
“Yes, honey?”
“Close the goddamn window,” she demands. “It’s cold.”
“I needed a cig,” Katya argues, dragging the cigarette to its end, the huge cloud of smoke being quickly taken by the wind.
“And how in the fucking hell is any of this my business?”
Katya rolls her eyes, not knowing if the feeling in her belly is disappointment or rage. Maybe both. She throws the smoked cigarette across the window and closes it again, wondering what could be worse: the noise of the lack of oil on the rail or Violet's tone from seconds before. Maybe both.
Her mind was busy as she crossed the room, taking a deep breath in before sitting carefully by the edge of the bed.
“Lettie?” she whispers, but her girlfriend doesn't reply. Katya squinted, nudging Violet's shoulder until she grumbles “Do you want to go out for breakfast?”
“Fuck off, Katya. It’s the middle of the night,” Violet exclaimed, sticking her head under the expensive feather pillow so she could avoid the other.
The Russian pouts. She hates how Violet never goes along with her outgoing nature. Most of the time she could be very rude to others, and Katya, even after her troubled childhood, was nothing but kind. If Katya was fire, Violet was water. Deep down, she knows the only exciting thing about her girlfriend is sex and, truth be told, even that is starting to bore Katya to death. They are the imperfect match.
She tries to sleep again, but the sweat leaks through every single pore of her body. The dryness of her throat starts to bug, so she takes one of Violet’s fashion magazines on the nightstand and tries to read something to get distracted from the heat. Instead, the only thing the dusk allows her to see is Billie Eilish looking hot in a pink cleavage, curvy hips and bounce blonde hair on that cover. Katya squeezes her thighs for the second time this evening, while the temperature on her body goes high. Great, now it’s even worse here. She starts fanning herself using the magazine in an attempt to make her cheeks cooler. Violet snores, fast asleep with the sheets pulled all the way up, covering her shoulders. Katya groans, suddenly sticking her tongue to her girlfriend, hoping Billie could keep that secret.
Finally, she gives up. The Russian uses the black scrunchie on the wrist to put her short blonde hair on a lazy ponytail and makes her way to the kitchen, longing for something that could help with the dry throat sensation. But when Katya finally walks into the living room she can breathe again.
Violet’s living room is small, with only one black leather couch, a TV in front of it and a poster of a skinny model - that Katya isn't sure if it's Gisele Bündchen or not - framed on the wall. However, the most exciting thing about the room is definitely the large window that leads to the fire escape and goes from corner to corner. Violet hates it, constantly complaining about how all the sunlight gives her headaches. Yeah, right, and the sunlight also goes by the name of Jack Daniels.
Now Violet could have the bedroom all to herself, because Katya doesn't care. The Russian feels blessed the moment she sees the tedious beige curtain fluttering due to the wind and the cool breeze touching her almost bare body. She comes closer to the window and lays on the floor with her legs against the wall, looking like a 90 degrees angle. Her tiny arms are spread, allowing the cold tile floor to calm her overheated body. Katya closes her eyes, feeling refreshed and realizing she can finally rest .
"Hello there."
Katya frowns, pressing her lips together. This isn't Violet's voice .
As she opens her eyes, her vision is fast flooded by an immensity of long blonde hair, slightly curly by the ends. What the hell? Katya blinks a few times, trying to think straight. The mysterious woman is upside down to her vision, leaning her hands on her own knees, smiling kindly.
Maybe it is the drowsiness or the overheated weather, but the Russian is mesmerized, mostly because of one particular thing that is holding her attention: that pair of magnificent honey brown eyes, glimmering above her. As I told you, the human mind can be tricky and that's why Katya doesn't get why, in this very moment, she can't stop thinking about the starry sky in Russia one more time.
"Hi?" Katya asks, feeling dumb because since when hi could be a question? "I'm sorry, but who are you and how did you get in?"
"Well, I live here."
The room is extra silent and Katya is muddled for a second, until something clicks in her head.
"Oh, right! You must be the new roommate."
"And you must be the girlfriend," the blonde woman, who’s still upside down in Katya’s vision, smirks while scanning her body. "Nice underwear. Sexy as fuck if you don't mind me saying."
“Shit,” she blushes, covering her body with her arms. If she knew she would have company, she would have tried to look decent. The Russian shakes her head, sitting straight without breaking eye contact “I'm Katya.”
“Trixie.” the woman answers, stending a hand for Katya to shake. Her skin is smooth, with a delicious aroma of strawberries that makes Katya's stomach snore loudly. Trixie has a sly smile on her lips. “Do you want to bite something? I’m a disaster in the kitchen, but I can guarantee at least a decent cereal.”
Katya nods without paying much attention. She was still delighted by those eyes. Where in the fucking hell Violet had found such an angel to share the apartment?
“Here,” Trixie undoes the knot on the yellow robe she is wearing, revealing a pink nightgown underneath “Put this on. I’m too young to be murdered by my roommate.”
Trixie undresses the robe and hands it to Katya. The strawberry scent is everywhere again as Katya slides her arms through the garment. The Russian notices how the sleeves are wider at their end, and how a few red flowers are contrasting against the yellow fabric by the hem. Katya loves red flowers.
“Lettie isn’t jealous.”
Trixie makes her way to the kitchen and Katya follows her like a lost puppy “I will not bet any money on it,” Trixie scoffs, grabbing two bowls in the dishwasher and placing them over the counter. She turns to Katya and whispers “Have you seen her? She scares me to death.”
Katya cracks up with laughter, covering her mouth so Violet won’t wake up. Trixie looks very pleased as she goes to the fridge and grabs the milk.
“Why are you up so late?” Katya asks, climbing on a small stool so she can reach the cereal boxes in the upper cupboard. She ponders between Fruit Loops and Cap’n Crunch for a few seconds, but then she finally decides on Honey Stars.
"Can't sleep, to be honest. Small town girl in the big city. Everything is noisy and weird."
“Small town, hm?” Katya adds, handing Trixie the blue box she is holding. They are side by side, so Katya notices for the first time how Trixie’s nose is slightly crooked. “Where are you from?”
“Just the middle of nowhere, across the far far away street.”
Katya laughs again, softly grabbing Trixie’s arm this time and squeezing it, which leads the other to spill the milk she was pouring. If it was Violet, Katya would be getting scolded right now, but Trixie just chuckles even harder before cleaning the floor with a paper towel.
The duo is now sitting by the living room window, enjoying their morning cereal. Trixie is staring outside while Katya is betting with herself how long she could glance at the other without being spotted. Or how long it would take for Katya herself to feel those pretty brown eyes on her. Her belly feels weird and she curses Violet's old milk.
“So,” Trixie starts, their gaze finally meeting. Katya senses her cheeks heating up “How long have you two been together?”
Katya tries to recall, the spoon against her mouth. “Almost a year. Lettie and I have been fuck buddies since college, but she made us official last July.”
Trixie nods, placing the bowl on her lips to drink the remaining milk. Katya tries not to stare, but she can't help it. Finally, Trixie disposes of the empty dish next to her curvy hips.
“Why aren’t you sharing this apartment with her?”
“I have my own place,” the Russian cuts right away, but Trixie doesn’t even shiver. Instead, she comes closer, their glance meeting again. Trixie's eyes are challenging and Katya swallows hard “I’m thinking about ending everything.”
Trixie raises an eyebrow. “With Violet?”
“Yeap.”
Katya doesn’t say much more, only does the same as Trixie and drinks the rest of the milk. She only likes cereal while it’s still crunchy.
“Sorry to hear about that,” Trixie declares, kindly placing her hand on top of Katya’s, who almost chokes on her milk. “Can you let me know in advance? So I can make sure to hide in my friend's place for a few days.”
The duo giggles together, Trixie gently squeezing Katya’s hand this time as the Russian tries to be quiet.
“But seriously,” Trixie dries a tear of joy from the corner of her eye, after calming down, “why do you want to break up? What changed?”
Katya presses her lips together, trying to ignore the heavy sensation growing in her chest. Trixie squeezes her hand once more, making a wave of courage hit Katya’s body.
“I realized I’m not in love with her.” she spills.
It was the first time Katya had said those words out loud. She's a tough woman, but not when it’s about taking people out of her life. After everything she went through, she can’t ignore the deep fear of being alone again. Katya wishes she was strong instead of tough: tough people hold a punch; but strong people have the courage to throw them.
Out of nowhere, Trixie wraps her arms around Katya’s shoulders. The Russian gasps for a second, before sticking her fingers on Trixie's waist, squeezing tenderly and pulling her closer. How could she ever feel so connected with a total stranger? She tries to think of something good to say, but all that comes to her mind is the way Trixie has cuddled so easily in her embrace.
A thin smile forms on Katya's face as Trixie’s warm breath hits her neck, whispering in her ears “Do you wanna go to the rooftop to watch the sunrise?”
“I'd love that,” Katya whispers back, snuggling on Trixie’s shoulder one last time before letting it go.
The metal of the fire escape is cold on Katya’s bare feet. She likes the sensation, though. Meanwhile, Trixie leads the way, dragging the Russian by her wrist, the touch burning Katya's flesh. She likes that sensation too. Mrs. Monsoon's dog barks at them, scaring Trixie. Just because of that, Katya steals a pink azalea from a pot, placing it on Trixie's hair by the time they reach the top.
Slowly, the two women approach the edge of the building. Katya is used to this rooftop since she comes here from time to time. However, she had never shared this secret spot with Violet, because she just knew her girlfriend wouldn’t be excited about it. Trixie, by the other hand, looks thrilled.
“This place is so beautiful. You can even see the ocean by day," Trixie mumbles and Katya nods. She knows that. "Do you come here often?”
“Sometimes, when I need to avoid Violet after a fight and it’s too late to walk home; or to smoke a cigarette without her complaining.” Katya pauses, looking up to the sky. “But mostly I come here to try to watch the stars when I feel lonely.”
Trixie’s glimpse follows Katya’s. “The thing that I miss the most about living in the middle of nowhere is laying on the grass and observing the sky. I love everything about it.” Trixie adds, bending on the sill. "It's not the same here."
For the first time in a long time, Katya feels seen.
“I love the stars,” Trixie is smiling, then Katya feels safe to keep talking. “When I was a little kid they were always there for me, no matter what," Katya says, thinking about the starry sky from her childhood. She takes a quick peek at Trixie’s brown eyes, but they are lost in the sky. She sighs "I wanna go to the planetarium and just watch them. Lettie thinks it’s a waste of time.”
“Fuck Violet,” Trixie's tone is sharp. She snorts, crossing her arms on her chest while leaning her back in the sill this time. “Go by yourself.”
Katya steps back, turning towards her. “Yeah, I don’t know. It’s the kind of stuff I would like to have someone to share with.”
Trixie is quiet and the Russian wonders if she said anything wrong. She moves her weight from one foot to another anxiously. After a while, Trixie breaks the silence.
“When did you realize it?” She asks. “That you weren’t in love with her, I mean.”
Katya leans her head in Trixie’s direction, who soon mimics the movement. Those glimmering eyes study Katya’s vividly. The Russian is speechless, Trixie’s honey brown eyes are something inexplicable to her. It took her a few seconds to realize Trixie was waiting for an answer.
“Honestly? I think I knew from the beginning,” Katya admits. “I’ve been waiting for something to happen, the feeling, but it never does.”
Some locks have fallen from Katya’s ponytail and are now sticking on her damp neck, but Trixie apparently doesn't mind, since she combs it with her fingers either way. Katya observes Trixie's glance going to her lips and then swerving away. It's so quick that Katya thinks it might have been just her imagination.
“Do you believe in destiny, Katya?” Trixie asks, making the Russian feel goosebumps at the sound of her name on the blonde’s voice.
Katya doesn’t know what to answer. Instead, she touches the pink azalea on Trixie’s hair. The blonde closes her eyes at the touch and Katya lets her fingertips trace a path over the other’s cheeks.
“I believe in the right place, at the right time,” she finally says, while admiring Trixie’s face.
Trixie’s eyes are still shut and Katya bites her lower lips, wondering if it’s wrong to miss them. The Russian thinks about her girlfriend asleep downstairs and how Violet’s eyes are always foggy and bitter. They could never shine as bright as Trixie’s.
“It’s almost dawn,” Trixie whispers.
Katya stares at the sky, realizing how the colors are slowly changing and birds have started to sing. A shiver goes down her spine and, in a bold moment, she pops a question:
“Can I look into your eyes?” She hesitates “Just for a little bit?”
Trixie grins shyly. “Be my guest.”
Katya’s hands cups Trixie’s cheeks, her thumbs gently caress the smooth skin. Trixie is still smiling by the time she finally opens her eyes. Katya chokes, feeling all kinds of weird sensations on her body that she can’t even describe. She wanted to smile as well, to show Trixie that she’s also enjoying this moment, but those eyes got her petrified.
“So beautiful,” Katya mumbles.
The response she gets to that is something she wasn’t expecting.
“You know what to do,” Trixie whispers again, without breaking eye contact.
Katya can feel her heart speeding up as she places one hand on Trixie’s lower back, pulling the blonde closer. Trixie's eyes are glittering so bright that Katya can see herself reflected on them, almost like they are windows to her own soul. The tension can be felt everywhere as Katya stands on her tiptoes, finally closing the distance between them both.
Trixie’s lips are soft and Katya lets go a low groan by the time they meet. Her hand is tangled on the blonde locks, delicately holding her face close. The first rays of sunlight reach Katya's face, while her fingertips stroke the other's scalp. Their eyes are closed, but Trixie’s pretty brown eyes are already stuck in Katya’s mind.
“Katya?”
Her body is frozen for a moment and she doesn’t understand what’s going on. She hears Violet’s deep voice calling her name from afar. Katya wants to open her eyes, to stare at Trixie, to grab her hand and protect her. But her eyelids are heavy and she physically can't.
“Katya, wake up!”
When she finally manages to open her eyes, all she can see is Violet’s furious eyes, her body leaning against hers on the bed. Nothing makes sense. Katya is so dizzy that she feels sick for a second.
“Lettie?”
“Can you explain why I woke up with a Vogue magazine on my face?” Violet inquiries.
“W-what?” Katya asks, sitting against the headboard, while her body is dripping in sweat.
“This!” Violet holds a magazine in her hands, showing it to Katya, who blinks a few times in confusion. Billie Eilish still looks hot on the cover, though.
“I…” the Russian tries to organize her thoughts “What’s going on? Where is Trixie?”
“Who?”
“Trixie,” Katya whispers, making a last effort “Your new roommate?”
Now Violet is the one with confusion on her face “Have you been eating those space cookies again? You know I haven’t had a roommate since Dax moved out.”
There’s something missing in Violet’s glance. Something Katya saw so vividly just seconds before. Then, she finally understands, a wave of deception hitting her body.
It was all just a dream. Trixie was never real.
Katya tries hard, but Trixie’s image is already fading from her memory. All she can remember are those perfect brown eyes and Trixie’s voice saying “ You know what to do”.
Yeah, Katya definitely knows what she has to do.
She presses her lips, takes a deep breath in and shoots “Lettie, we need to talk.”
***
Katya has just finished her work day, but she's still sitting at her desk, praying to her boss to ask her if she could do some extra hours. Instead, all she gets is an eager look for the third time this week. “Go home, Katya, or I swear to God I will fire you” , her boss announces. The Russian grumbles, grabbing her purse and leaving.
Katya storms into her huge black SUV, the smell of cigarettes and pine air freshener filling her lungs. It’s Friday and she used to spend these days with Violet. It’s been a couple of weeks since they broke up, so she still hasn't figured out what to do with all the spare time.
LA traffic is crazy, so it's already dark by the time Katya finally gets home. She holds the steering wheel, whining by herself at the idea of spending another night alone - since Sasha had told her the other day that a vodka bottle doesn’t count as companionship. Katya mopes, puts the car in reverse and drives away from her place.
The Russian has no special place to go. She passes by her sister's place, but doesn’t stop. Then, she drives by the beach, but she also doesn’t stop. Katya feels lonely, but, at the same time, she doesn't want to be around anyone. She has just stopped at a red light, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, when something comes to her mind: the weird dream she had the night she decided to break up with Violet.
It was all so real, Katya kept repeating to herself over the past weeks. Of course, she tried to have the same dream again, but it was in vain. She doesn’t remember that woman's face anymore, or her voice, or her hair, or even her name. But she couldn't never forget those eyes.
Before Katya can even realize it, she is pulling up at the Griffith Observatory, hoping the planetarium is still open. The Russian’s heels are clicking loudly on the sidewalk, and she wonders if she is overdressed with her pantsuit.
“Hi!” Katya says when she reaches the box office. The ticket man has earphones on, vibing to whatever he might be listening to. He doesn't look up. Katya rolls her eyes and knocks on the glass “Hello? Can I have a ticket to the planetarium?” She asks, making exaggerated gestures with her hands - which, in her mind, represent tickets and planets.
The man’s face is blank as he takes his earphones off. “We are about to close.”
Katya peeks at the sign in front of her and then to the screen of her phone, challenging the man with a raised eyebrow. “I believe I still have 20 minutes.”
The man grunts while typing on his computer. He gives her a ticket, a flyer and a warning that the planetarium guide has probably already left at this point. But Katya shrugs it off, she just needs the stars to keep her company for a bit.
The place is almost empty, so Katya is glad she won't disturb anyone by laughing about that flyer. “Black holes don’t suck” , she reads, thinking whose mind could be behind that title. She turns the page, finding infos about a star show at the theater, and that is exactly where she wants to go.
Katya walks through the empty hallways, turning her face from time to time whenever something arouses her curiosity. Unfortunately, by the time she finally finds the theater the doors are already locked. The devastation sensation soon consumes her tiny body. I just wanted to see the stars. Katya presses her lips, sitting against the door and trying to think about what to do next - she may or may not have her eyes full of tears, but she shuts them heavily, trying to act firm. She's a tough woman after all.
Suddenly, she hears the door behind her unlocking. Before she had the chance to stand up, the door opens and her back falls hardly to the floor.
“Oh, my God! I’m so sorry. God , I’m so clumsy!”
Katya glances up, meeting a blonde woman staring at her upside down to her vision. Holy shit, who’s this angel? , was Katya’s first - and only - thought, since she's absolutely stunned right now.
The woman offers her hand, helping Katya to stand up to her feet again. Neither of them says anything, but their glances are glazed. Katya, then, notices how this mysterious blonde has terrific, incredible, stunning brown eyes, which twinkle towards her.
The woman’s mouth falls open as she profoundly faces Katya “I'm sorry, have we met before? You look so familiar. My name is...”
“...Trixie.” Katya releases her name like it was a deep breath from her soul, willing for the day it could finally come out.
The woman still holds Katya's hand, but her eyes are in shock "H-how do you know my name?”
Katya has a sly smile on her lips, looking delighted with the whole situation.
“Something in the stars,” she says, and Trixie blinks puzzled. Katya tries her best to not laugh as she finally points into Trixie’s boobs. “Just kidding, it’s on your badge.”
Trixie looks down at the badge attached to her yellow floral dress, where it says ‘Trixie Mattel - Planetarium theater director’. When they glimpse each other again, Katya feels her heart fluttering rapidly on her chest.
“I’m Katya,” the Russian manages to say, kissing Trixie’s hand tenderly, while a strawberry aroma fills her nose. It kinda reminds Katya about something, a déjà-vu sensation, but she can’t figure it out.
“Hello, Katya. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Trixie smiles, her eyes brightening beautifully as she does that “But what are you doing here? The Planetarium is already closed.”
“I don’t know,” Katya whispers, her eyes never leaving Trixie’s “Maybe I was just in the right place, at the right time.”