Chapter 90: Makeover
The fate of the girls at Sasha's place was grim, often ending in being used up or succumbing to illness.
Svetlana and her group were all over thirty, considered "old" in the industry. Although experienced, they couldn't compete with younger girls.
In Russia, there's never a shortage of young, beautiful girls dreaming of a better life in America. At seventeen or eighteen, they're abundant and eager.
Sasha could easily replace Svetlana and her peers by bringing in new, cheaper "products" from Russia, leaving the older ones out.
While other girls might not have realized this, Svetlana had.
Her calm demeanor when discussing the situation showed she had come to terms with it.
Svetlana reclined on the sofa, unbothered, lighting a cigarette.
"So, are you actually?" Frank was intrigued.
"Maybe, maybe not. I do find them more appealing," Svetlana openly admitted.
Frank and Svetlana shared a unique bond.
With other men, Svetlana's interactions were purely transactional, but she saw Frank as an equal, someone who respected her.
America, despite being a leading nation, is rife with discrimination, particularly against non-Americans. Svetlana, living there for years, often faced prejudice and was rarely treated with respect.
Thus, she and Frank were friends, someone she could confide in.
"What does it feel like to be homosexual?" Frank asked, not out of prejudice but genuine curiosity.
"Why do you want to know?" Svetlana was puzzled.
"Well, my son..." Frank shared Ian's situation with her.
"Oh, I'd advise you not to interfere. If he hasn't talked about it, he's probably not ready."
"Your son's a teenager. These topics are sensitive. Unless he brings it up, don't push; it might backfire," Svetlana suggested.
"By the way, why do you want me to pretend to be your wife?" Svetlana asked, flicking ash from her cigarette.
"I need you to come with me to a government office to sign some papers," Frank explained briefly.
"What does this Monica look like? Do we resemble each other?" Svetlana inquired.
They'd need ID for signing, and if they looked too different, it could raise suspicion.
"You don't look alike at all, but I have a plan," Frank said, showing Monica's ID.
Monica had a round face, while Svetlana's was more oval, with distinct Russian features.
To Westerners, many Asians might seem similar, just as Asians might have difficulty distinguishing between different European nationalities unless they have distinct features like a Roman nose.
Similarly, Westerners often can't differentiate between Asians based on appearance alone.
However, people from China can often distinguish Japanese, Korean, Thai, or Vietnamese individuals by their looks, just as Europeans can often tell an Englishman from an Italian or a Mexican by sight.
Svetlana's Russian features were unmistakable.
Frank's wife, Monica, was a typical American, so having Svetlana impersonate her would be risky.
It would be like a Thai person trying to pass as Chinese; the differences are evident even before they speak.
Thus, Frank needed to "transform" Svetlana.
He took Svetlana to a Japanese beauty salon.
"Make her look like this. The closer, the better the tip," Frank instructed, handing Monica's ID to the owner.
"Sure, no problem," the owner replied confidently.
Japanese makeup techniques are often considered almost magical, much like the renowned photo-editing skills found in China.
Svetlana sat in the chair as two people worked on her face, feeling odd about having someone else do her makeup for the first time, and paying for it.
After more than half an hour, Svetlana's transformation was complete, rivaling the work of Hollywood makeup artists.
"How does she look?" the owner asked.
"Great," Frank nodded, satisfied with the results.
Svetlana now had a face quite different from her own. While not identical to Monica, she resembled her enough for the purpose.
After all, it's common for ID photos to look quite different from the person, often seeming like two entirely different people.
As long as Svetlana's appearance matched the ID photo closely enough, there wouldn't be issues.
Frank had Svetlana memorize Monica's name spelling, birth date, and basic information.
"Do you have any bandages?" Frank suddenly asked the owner.
"There should be some in the first aid kit," the owner said, retrieving it.
Frank took some gauze and wrapped it around Svetlana's neck.
"What's this for?" Svetlana asked, adjusting the gauze uncomfortably.
"Just in case," Frank replied.
Svetlana's heavy Russian accent could give her away if she spoke.
Frank planned to claim she had a throat injury to avoid her needing to speak.
Prepared, Frank and Svetlana headed to the government office, choosing a busy time to blend in.
After a long wait, it was their turn.
"Frank and Monica," Frank announced.
"Frank, here for the train compensation. Please sign here," the clerk said, pulling out a document.
Frank signed, and the clerk checked the signature for accuracy.
"Mrs. Gallagher," the clerk turned to Svetlana.
Svetlana presented Monica's ID, and the clerk compared the photo to her face.