The Prey

I was tired, so tired I couldn't even lift a finger. My back was screaming at me for being a superwoman last night and my buttocks were sore. God damnit! Not even a week and I already wanted to go back.

Lord knew why I decided to be a saviour when I knew I was a blind owl. Couldn't even see without my glasses, and now, not only was I left with a broken elbow and sprained foot, but broken glasses too. I got them fixed before moving to Russia, and now it'd take another sum of money to repair them. Great. Looks like my clumsy ass come with a price tag – and not the discounted kind. Brilliant.

"You up, Dorogaya?" She walked through the bathroom door wearing nothing but a towel. I quickly averted my eyes, feeling my cheeks warming. Despite the Russian cold, Alina preferred wearing less clothes than a sunbathing lizard. "Had breakfast?"

I continued packing my bag in a hurry, realizing I had less than twenty minutes left for class. "I don't have enough time for breakfast," I grabbed the assignments before stuffing them into the bag.

Why do I feel like I was missing something?

Ah well, if I was missing something, it'd just have to join the ranks of the lost socks in the laundry basket.

"Have some coffee before you leave, okay?" I looked over my shoulder as she extended the coffee mug, our eyes meeting.

"Thanks," I muttered grabbing the cup, her fingers brushed against mine and I couldn't help but notice how beautiful and soft her hands were.

"No problem," she winked, sauntering away to blow dry her hair, leaving me standing there like a startled flamingo. "You can help me with assignments later though," she added over her shoulder.

I took gulps of the coffee, and gagged feeling like I'd just ingested rocket fuel. Well, at least it matched the intensity of my impending panic attack at the thought of helping her with assignments. Great, just what I needed – a double shot of caffeine and anxiety.

Instead, I focused on Alina.

Even without makeup, she was beautiful. Her sharp green eyes looked at me through the mirror as she blow-dried her hair. "...Of course..." Why did she have to look like a goddess while I resembled a sprouted potato? Life really wasn't fair sometimes.

"Are you free this Friday; we can hit the club or go to a bar, what are your thoughts?"

Trust me, nothing was more blissful than hitting the club, getting drunk, forgetting all the problems even if it was for just one night, and being the cool girl. Having a group of friends to chill around, having cute coffee dates, going on shopping sprees, falling in love, having my heart broken, then finding another boy, being the girl everyone desired to be.

But I neither had time nor money to be that girl.

"No, I need to get this assignment ready by this week."

I always watched those girls with a mixture of envy and resignation. Their lives seemed so effortless, like a dance they had mastered while I struggled just to stay on my feet. I wasn't saying I was different from other girls, not in a way that implies superiority or some unique struggle. No, I was like most girls, the ones who didn't struggle to live but lived to struggle.

The luxury of carefree moments and spontaneous fun wasn't part of my reality. Bills needed paying, responsibilities demanded attention, and dreams were often put on hold indefinitely.

"You're so boring, but I like you." I managed a small smile and resumed packing my bag.

Alina hummed some song as she styled her hair. And the void in my chest deepened.

It wasn't that I didn't want those things – the laughter, the freedom, the sense of belonging. I craved them as much as anyone else. But life had a way of pulling me back to the ground, reminding me that my journey was different. I had to work twice as hard for half as much, and sometimes, it felt like I was running a race I could never win.

During high school, I had a decent amount of friends. We shared laughter, secrets, and dreams of the future, thinking nothing could tear us apart. But as I grew older, we parted ways. Or perhaps it was when I lost my father that they realized I didn't have money to spend on outings and frivolous activities anymore. Gradually, they drifted away, their absence as silent as the void that filled my life after my father's death.

I lost contact with them soon after that. My father's passing was a blow that shattered our family, both emotionally and financially. The weight of the world seemed to fall upon my mother's shoulders, and as the eldest child, I felt an overwhelming guilt. I should have been able to do more, to protect and support her. So, I took on my first part-time job at a nearby cleaning station, working long hours for eleven months. I felt so proud the day I handed over my saved money to my mother. But the pride was fleeting. The money I gave her was only one-fourth of the amount we needed for rent yearly. That day, I realized that no matter how hard you work, it won't be appreciated unless it meets certain expectations.

The problem was that I wanted to be the man of the house for my mother. I wanted to lessen her burdens, to give her a home of our own, and to hire someone to help with the chores so she wouldn't have to exhaust herself every day. I wanted her to rely on me, not the other way around.

Her tears became unbearable when she cried herself to sleep every night, tormented by the uncertainty of how she'd pay our next month's bills. That uncertainty, that gnawing fear, I wanted to take it away.

I learned to become self-reliant. I became so used to doing things by myself.

But that’s just how life was.

Sighing, I grabbed my jacket throwing it over my sweater and jeans. Trying not to think about Texas, I hurriedly grasped my bag and was about to rush through the doors when I remembered.

My lip gloss.

No matter how poor I get, I would never do the sin of forgetting my lip balm. Even if I was to die today, I'd rather die with moisturised lips than chapped ones.

Alina waved. "Bye, Bye, Серафима,"

I waved back before applying a thick layer over my lips, I smacked them together before rushing down. Shit, I was going to be late.

❁

By the time I limped toward my class, I was tired and already wanted to go home. Home. A bittersweet ache settled in my chest. There'd be no home for the next two years.

I sank into the last empty seat, finding solace in the backbenches. The professor was already twenty minutes late enough time to map out my evening plan, a job hunt through Moscow’s streets.

Laughter and chatter swirled around me. To my left, a red-haired girl yapped about her latest date, her friends hanging on every word, giggles spilling like secrets. On my right, a group of boys argued over last night’s football match, voices rising with every play they dissected.

Everyone belonged. Except me.

I clutched my books tighter, the weight of being ignored pressing down on me more than usual. The bench felt smaller beneath me, the space between me and everyone else stretching wider. Not that it mattered—I was used to it. An outcast. A foreigner. The invisible presence in a room full of people.

Shaking off the sting, I plugged in my earphones, letting a podcast fill the silence.

"How would you rate your life on a scale of ten, Ms. Polani?"

"It depends."

"On what?"

"Oh, you know, the usual—coffee availability, the weather, whether or not my favorite show got canceled again."

"So, what’s the score today?"

"Well, considering I spilled coffee on myself this morning, my Wi-Fi is acting up, and someone just spoiled the ending of a book I’ve been dying to read… let’s call it a solid three."

Laughter rippled through the audience, and I found myself smiling faintly, lost in the conversation. The background noise of the classroom faded into nothing, blending seamlessly with my own isolation. 

Then, everything stopped.

The chatter died down so suddenly like someone had hit pause on reality. I was still in my bubble, oblivious, until a tap on my shoulder yanked me out of it. My body jolted on instinct, nearly swinging at the unexpected touch.

A hand caught mine mid-air.

My ear buds slipped free and the distant voices of the podcast fizzling out. Slowly, hesitantly, I looked around. To my dismay, every single pair of eyes was on me.

Well. Wasn’t this just fantastic?

Ms. Olga's sharp gaze pinned me in place.

"Done with your daydreaming, Ms. Rosewood?"

I snapped back to reality feeling my cheeks burn. "I... I am so…” 

"Yeah? Careless American blood."

The room felt smaller and my mind scrambled for a response, something—anything—but all I managed was a stiff nod.

She released my wrist, and I cradled it instinctively. "Next time, be mindful."

I nodded, avoiding her gaze as she adjusted her glasses and strode to the front. Behind me, a few girls snickered. Swallowing my embarrassment, I bent to grab my earbuds, only to fumble and drop them again. One rolled just out of reach.

"For heaven’s sake," I muttered, watching it mock me from the floor.

Crawling under the bench, I stretched out to grab the damn earbud, only for a hand to snatch it first. Startled, I jerked up, smacking my head against the underside of the desk.

"Ouch!" I hissed, rubbing the sore spot as heat crawled up my face.

"Here."

I frowned, still dazed, until a tug at my sleeve snapped me back. Peering under the table, a grinning face met mine. "Looking for this?" he asked, holding up my earbud just out of reach, amusement dancing in his eyes.

I blinked, trying to process, then quickly reached for it. My fingers brushed his before I yanked it back, shoving it into my bag as if that would erase the mortifying moment.

"Thanks," I mumbled, still rubbing my head.

"Ivan," he extended his hand.

I hesitated, glancing between him and his outstretched palm before giving it a quick, tentative shake—like it might detonate. His soft green eyes were wide and bright, his smile easy, and his hair a messy halo around his face, giving him the look of a curious puppy rather than a university student.

"Seraphina," I muttered, barely audible over the internal panic sirens blaring in my head.

Why was he talking to me in the middle of class?

Please don’t talk to me. I’ll just embarrass myself.

Just keep it together, Seraphina. Breathe. Don’t trip over your own existence.

To my dismay, Ivan seemed completely immune to Ms. Olga’s glare.

"Exchange student?" he pressed, undeterred.

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly Sahara-dry, and resorted to scribbling in my notebook. Unfortunately, all I managed was a page full of indecipherable gibberish—much like my current mental state.

"Scholarship," I nodded, my voice barely working.

"Woah, that’s cool." His eyes lit up as he leaned in, and suddenly, Ms. Olga’s lecture on genetics might as well have been in Martian for all the attention I was paying.

He was close—too close. Close enough for me to see flecks of gold in his green eyes, like tiny stars trapped in an emerald sky. A faint trace of his cologne lingered in the air, crisp and misty, like fresh rain over stone.

I scooted to the edge of my seat, heat rising up my neck like a warning signal. And just when I thought I couldn’t embarrass myself further, my hand slipped over the table, knocking my water bottle.

Panic surged through me as I watched it roll in slow motion. But before disaster struck, Ivan’s hand shot out, catching it with effortless ease.

"Thanks," I whispered, my face burning. I dropped my gaze, suddenly finding my shoes fascinating, fingers fidgeting against my notebook. Summoning courage, I glanced up with a small, hesitant smile, hoping it didn’t scream help me, I’m malfunctioning.

He chuckled. "I'm from Moscow. How about you?"

"Originally from the States," I sighed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "But we moved around a lot."

"So, have you been here long?"

"Just a week," I shrugged. "Still getting used to everything. The culture’s so different."

"I bet," he murmured. "If you ever need help—or just want to hang out—let me know. I’ve been here a semester already, so I kinda know my way around."

Relief flooded me. "That would be great, thank you. I could use a friend here."

"Consider it done." He smiled, a little timid, a little playful. "Maybe I could show you some places?"

"I’d love that."

"Deal." He grinned. "Looks like we both have a lot to share."

"Definitely." Excitement and nerves swirled in my chest.

Just as I turned to say something else, the bell rang, signaling the end of class.

"Medusa’s leaving," Ivan murmured under his breath.

I stifled a laugh. "Quick, before she turns us all to stone."

My heart thumped as I met his gaze, warmth lingering in the space between us.

"Well, see you later," I stuffed my books into my bag.

"Ivan!" someone called from across the class.

He hesitated. "I should go, or… do you wanna—?"

"That's all right," I cut in quickly. "I need to check out the library."

It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. I wanted to keep talking, to make a friend, but a familiar voice in the back of my mind told me to pull away. Stay quiet. Blend in. You’re not interesting enough. Not outgoing enough. Just… not enough.

"Okay," Ivan said easily, his smile was still unfazed. "See you around, Seraphina!"

"See you," I replied softly, watching as he disappeared into the crowd.

I exhaled deeply, my pulse still racing. The thought of standing out, of drawing attention to myself, sent a chill through me.

What if people saw me for who I really was—and didn’t like what they saw?

The idea gnawed at me, a tight knot of anxiety in my chest.

Better to stay in the background. Safe. Invisible.