Katrina remembered how she’d just started wearing makeup, and found a women’s blouse from a secondhand store. Her hair hadn’t grown out yet, but she had fastened it with a shiny pink barrette. It had been the first time she’d gotten a lanyard and a name tag with her chosen name KATRINA and she/her printed in boldface Helvetica.

And, after another workshop where she had said nothing, Evan had sat with her for lunch. She had a ham sandwich, while his was tofu. She apologized about being too stupid to know queers shouldn’t eat meat and so many pronouns existed and she’d never even heard of Imogen Binnie or Nevada.

Then he hushed her with his finger, kissed her on the forehead, and she felt her body go liquid like summer sun. And then he kissed her on the lips, and she knew it didn’t mean anything, except that it meant everything.

But now?

“I was thinking, it would be a way to help with the rent, you know?”

He pushed her down and continued. After he finished, Evan tried to kiss her again.

“I don’t know why you’re crying,” he said. “It’s fair trade. Besides, I can only imagine how you paid for that violin.”

Eventually Evan left with a couple of their friends for a new Korean teriyaki place that was supposed to be super authentic. Katrina listened as Evan’s Jeep drove one, two, then three blocks away.

Katrina felt for her safety bag. Then, quietly, she retrieved her violin. From China, a P20+, maple, spruce, ebony … The eBay description said it was a copy of a 1710 Stradivarius. Even in the dimness of Evan’s living room, the wood grain seemed to hold whatever light it could find.

Please come see me. Or you can meet me here, the teacher had offered.

She was so beautiful. Was she even real? Katrina reached into her purse. Whoever she was, to be able to play like that. To make music that could do that.

Yes! The woman’s card was still there. Of course she’d never use it. But yes. It was real. The music she remembered, the music that she was hearing, even now, was real.

But then Katrina’s phone buzzed, and with it, a more immediate reality. Someone wanted a date, and he was nearby.

It did not take long to make herself pretty, at least pretty enough. Early on, she realized that being Chinese, Vietnamese, and Mexican meant that with the right makeup and attitude, she could seem exotic to just about anyone.

Work it, girl.

Though she far preferred to webcam, there was neither the space nor privacy to do cam sessions at Evan’s. She looked herself over. It would do. She carefully packed her violin, then hid it away before heading out the door.

It was time to make money.

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