A knock at my door woke me just as the morning sunlight began to stream weakly through the openings in my curtains. I wrapped my robe around myself and walked over to the door. Hulking in the doorway was one of Kovalev’s guys. I didn’t recognize this one, but then again, they all pretty much looked the same. He was holding a garment bag out toward me.

“This is for you. Boss will send a car here at eight o’clock tonight. He wants you to wear this.”

He thrust the bag toward me and waited for me to take it. Once I had it in my hands, he turned without another word and walked toward the stairs. I closed the door behind him and laid the garment bag onto the bed. Inside was a gorgeous dress, dark blue and low cut. I couldn’t imagine how a man as coarse and brutish as Kovalev could have such exquisite taste in fashion.

What was going on? In all the time I had been here, Kovalev had never taken me out on a date. He had rarely seen me outside of this apartment. What kind of event was I to attend that would require such an outfit? I began to feel a little sick to my stomach. My emotions whipsawed back and forth between excitement and apprehension. On the one hand, I was happy to have the chance to wear a pretty dress and go to a fancy event. But on the other, any kind of departure from the routine gave me pause. I wasn’t happy about the status quo, but at least it was relatively stable. Knowing Kovalev, any change was likely to make things worse. I spent the rest of the day trying to distract myself instead of waiting for the night to come.

The view out my window was generally very boring. Not many people walked around here, so all I saw were anonymous vehicles rolling by. I stared idly outside. I could see the hotels on the Strip in the distance. The sunlight was glinting off the windows. I wondered if Kovalev would be taking me to one of the casinos.

A movement caught my eye on the level below. One of the men who lived in the apartment building was walking out. It was Jason. I hadn’t ever talked to him, but I had heard some of the other girls talking about him. There was something different about him. He didn’t leer at the girls the way that the other guys did, the kind of look that made no attempt to disguise their lurid thoughts. He always smiled at me when he saw me. His eyes were kind and his smile seemed genuine. It didn’t make him any less intimidating. I had overheard some of the other guys talking about him with what could only be described as awe. They didn’t seem to like him, but they knew not to mess with him.

He crossed the little courtyard in a few long strides and then was out of the view of my little window. The world was empty again. I had to figure out what I was going to do for the rest of the day to occupy my mind before I had to start getting ready to go out for the night. I picked up one of the books on my nightstand and flipped open to a random page. I had read everything in this room a few times. I kept asking to get something new, but Kovalev never cared to do anything about it. The hired muscle just snorted when I asked them to go out to get me a new book. I doubted if they even knew where to find a bookstore.

I spent the rest of the morning and the early afternoon down in the silo with the characters in Hugh Howey’s Wool. I reflected on how ridiculous it was that I felt jealous of them. Even if they were trapped below ground in a post-apocalyptic hellscape, at least they had other people around, a community. I missed the casual acquaintances that I had never valued when I had them. I missed that the baristas at my favorite coffee shop knew my name and favorite drink. I always thought of myself as individualistic, but this isolation was nearly impossible to bear. Can we even be human without other people? Don’t we need other people to help construct our own identity? In the eyes of Kovalev and his minions, even the other girls in the building, I was nobody, an object. Valuable, maybe, but still something less than a person. Despite my best efforts, it was getting harder and harder to hang onto my sense of self.

Maybe that was why I was so excited for this night out. I would have the chance to be in a room with other people. I would be in a different context, one where I could appear as something other than Kovalev’s plaything. Even in the eyes of the strangers at the restaurant, club, or wherever, I would be a woman, a person.

I started getting ready at around six o’clock. I took extra care shaving my legs and underarms. I had always kept myself well-groomed, Kovalev insisted on it, but for the first time in a long time I enjoyed getting dolled up. I had just slipped into the gorgeous Versace gown when I heard someone knock at the door. I almost skipped to open it. Looming in the doorway was another of the seemingly identical goons that made up the vast majority of my social circle. I didn’t care. I was going to make the best of the night and not let anything take away from my enjoyment. I left the door open while I went back to put on my shoes and then let the hulking brute escort me down the stairs and into Kovalev’s waiting car. He wasn’t there.

“Boss is busy. He will meet you there,” my escort said in response to my unasked question.

I felt a little twinge in the pit of my stomach, but immediately dismissed it. Surely, it was too much to expect Kovalev would be an attentive date. I let the door close behind me and leaned back into the soft leather seat. There was a bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket as well as a single flute. I took care not to spill any on my dress as the car took off down the street. I stared out the back window and watched the apartment building recede into the distance. It was a beautiful sight.