Fifi - Book 2 -Chapter 1

Chapter 1 – Post factum

As David placed the shimmering white gown he had just streamed back in its rightful position, he took a second to run his fingers along its bodice. The material felt slippery between his long-nailed fingers, similar to the top that he now wore as he went about his day of work at Annisa’s bridal store.

Zoning out for a moment, he let his mind wander. For some unknown reason, he was suddenly transported back to a careers meeting he attended in his school days. Sat across from Mr Price, the bearded careers advisor, he was asked what he saw himself doing in five years’ time. He answered instantly, telling the man he wanted to be an artist. Mr Price commented on how rare it was for a young man to know what he wanted from life before laying out some options. One of them being a history of art degree, which David ended up completing. But that’s where the image of the future he saw for himself and reality had diverged!

Leaving university, he had found it almost impossible to find work within the artistic world. Forced to take a job flipping burgers for a living had seemed like a depressing reality check at the time. But where his optimistic sixteen-year-old self would have found it difficult to imagine such a future. He would have found the idea of working as an assistant in an Indonesian bridal store while pretending to be a Parisian girl laughable. But as improbable as the events of the last month or so might seem, here he was, five days a week, organising weddings and caring for lavish gowns. The closest thing he got these days to the art he once planned to produce was the blank canvas that was his face as he was tasked with feminising it each day with an array of beauty products and powders. At least with his background in art, the skills that many other men would have struggled with came quite naturally. A small mercy.

Hearing Annisa shout out his name, the feminised man took a few steps back, not even noticing the clatter of his towering heels on the polished marble floor as it was now a common sound. “I’ll be right there,” he called back.

“What does she want now?” he thought, hoping that he would have had a little more time alone In the back room to relax in peace. But after the success of Annisa’s cousin’s wedding, he should have known better. Since that day, word had spread that thanks to a collaboration with a French girl she had hired, her firm could now provide beautiful and elegant European-style wedding events, and with two new clients already booked, Annisa was working like a woman possessed to take advantage of the hype.

For David, that fateful day also led to more unwanted changes. The long hair (he now had to style each morning) had stayed. So had the nails, even if they weren’t as long and now less flashy, thanks to his bi-weekly visits to the nail salon with Annisa. When he thought back to that day, he had to admit that the venue had looked stylish and modern (mainly thanks to him and his artistic eye). But had he known at the time what all his care and attention to detail would lead to, he definitely wouldn’t have put so much effort in.

“Fifi! Where are you?” Annisa called out again from the front of the store.

Lightly scratching his right arm with his acrylic nails, David took a deep breath. “Coming,” he shouted back, rolling his eyes as he strutted forward on his platform-heeled sandals.

(See image 1.1)

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Hearing the rhythmic click-clack sound of high-heeled shoes approaching, Annisa looked up from her computer screen in anticipation of Fifi’s arrival. She smiled as he rounded the corner, feeling a sense of pride. The tomboy that had arrived at her door that day was no more! And What existed now in her place was blossoming into a beautiful young woman. But something was wrong!

Observing the girl stride effortlessly across the room on her six-inch stilettos, Annisa noted how her outfit for the day was just the right balance of classy and sexy. But there it was again! That sad look in her eyes. Something was not quite right, and she wanted to help. And it wasn't just because of the sudden success Fifi had brought to her business. The girl from Paris, as quirky and strange as she was now someone she cared about. The problem was she just didn’t know how to help her. She had taken her shopping (something that always cheered her up whenever she felt down). She had introduced her to her friends to increase her social circle. She had even used her father's connections to reserve seats at some of the most exclusive and well-renowned restaurants in the city. But nothing had worked! Fifi still looked miserable even if she always said she was fine when asked.

“Fifi! There you are,” Annisa chimed out. “Let’s sit for a moment and chat.”

“Erm… ok,” David said, suddenly worried that something was wrong. Making his way over to one of the sofas on the shop floor, he smoothed out his short silky skirt beneath him and sat down.

“You know you can always talk to me, right?” Annisa said in a serious-sounding tone. “If there’s anything on your mind. Something you’re keeping to yourself. I'm ready to listen.”

David’s panic-stricken eyes widened as his heart started pounding. “She knows,” he thought, looking towards the exit before down at his crippled feet.

“I can see from your reaction something is bothering you,” Annisa said while tilting her head to one side. “If you tell me what’s on your mind, I can help you. I hate seeing my friend look so sad.”

“Friend?” David said, looking surprised.

“Yes, you are my Friend, Fifi,” Annisa announced before smiling. “So please, tell me what is making you feel so sad.”

The skirted man let out a sigh of relief. She didn’t know his secret. He wasn’t about to be arrested for identity fraud. “I… I’m just a little homesick. That’s all,” he announced, crossing his legs, and bashfully looking away.

For once, he had actually told the truth. He desperately wanted to go home. More than anything! He’d had enough of the annoyingly long hair. The embarrassingly short skirts. And the impractically high heels. With each waking moment, he longed to be back home in London with his family, and the daily calls with his mother and sister probably weren't helping. Hearing their voices was comforting, but the lies about his fictional teaching job, apartment, and colleagues were tiring and becoming harder to remember by the day.

Nodding her head, Annisa placed her arm around David’s hunched shoulders. “I understand,” she said while gently rubbing his back. “When I studied in the States, I found it difficult being away from my family too. Thank you for sharing this with me.”

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Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, David wondered why Annisa insisted on him making even more of an effort than usual when dressing that morning. Sitting in the outside seating area of a coffee shop feeling totally exposed and overdressed, it seemed a bit much for just a French lesson. With most people around him dressed in casual attire, his short black peplum dress with a floral design made him feel flashy. And paired with the Mary-Jane Louboutins that Annisa had recently purchased for him, in his mind, he stood out like a sore thumb.

“Can we go somewhere else?” He asked Annisa as a bead of sweat dripped from his heavily made-up face to land on one of the open pages of the French textbook he was holding.

“Qui,” Annisa replied. “Il fait chaud aujourd’hui. Did I say that corectly?”

“Yes, it is hot,” David said, nodding as he wondered what on earth had possessed him to put on a pair of tights that day. As thin as they were, his legs were still exposed and now just felt hot and sweaty.

“Come on. It’s time to go anyway,” Annisa said, taking the textbook from him and standing up. “Did you bring your birth certificate with you, as I asked?”

“Yes. It’s in my bag,” David replied, referring to Fifi’s birth certificate that was folded up neatly in the three thousand dollar handbag pressing against his nyloned thigh. “Are you going to tell me why I need it now? Or perhaps where we're going?”

Annisa smiled as she reached out to take his long-nailed hand. “No. I told you. It’s a surprise! Now, come on. You’re the one who wanted to leave.”

Taking her hand, she help him up and whisked him from the café. Within seconds, he was rushing through the bustling Jakartan streets, trying to avoid bumping into anyone. As he mindlessly followed Annisa, he wondered where she was taking him. Here he was in an unfamiliar part of the city, mincing along like an overdressed fashionista, and completely oblivious to where he was going. It was all a little scary!

Suddenly pulled from the crowd, Annisa almost dragged him up a set of steps. Reaching the top, they entered a very grand-looking building with a high ceiling and a foyer littered with tropical plants. With his shoes echoing loudly off the marble floor below, David looked around nervously as he arrived at a security gate. Forced to empty his handbag, he walked through an x-ray machine, now more confused than ever. What was this building used for? And why had he been brought here?

Once through the gate, a waiting man stepped forward to greet them. He bowed his head and introduced himself before asking them to follow him Well, that's what David assumed was said. With the man speaking in the local language, he couldn't understand a word of what was said.

Setting off through the foyer towards his office at the back of the building, he and Annisa chatted. Following behind, David felt like a lamb being led to the slaughter. Especially when the pair would occasionally turn to glance back in his direction, giving him the distinct impression that they were talking about him.

(See image 1.2)

Visibly shaking, David took up a seat next to Annisa and opposite the man, on the opposite side of a grand mahogany desk. Looking around, he was clearly in some kind of government office, and he could only think of one reason why Annisa would have brought him there. “She knows! And she’s turning me over to the authorities,” he thought as his legs quivered, causing his shoes to rattle loudly off the wooden floor beneath his high-heeled feet.

Tightly gripping his pantyhosed knees, the petrified young man took a deep breath and tried to think of the positives. Whatever the consequences, no matter how terrible, at least he could stop living a lie! He could return to his old life. A life without skirts and dresses, where he could live without the constant anxiety and pressure of having to pretend to be a woman. He had lied. He had deceived. And now he would have to face his punishment, like a man!

“Can you remove your shoes for me, Fifi?” The man suddenly asked in perfect English, taking David by surprise.

“Do I have to?” David shot back as an awful thought entered his head. Given the height of his stiletto heels, in prison, his shoes might be considered a weapon! And as a result, they were about to be confiscated!

“I can’t walk without them,” he pleaded, pulling a sad face.

The suited man looked over at David with a puzzled expression. “It’ll only be for a few minutes, just while we document your height and weight,” he said.

“Of course. A mugshot!” David thought as he nervously fidgeted around. “I’ll get them back after, right?” he asked, knowing how difficult it would be to move around without them.

"Hey, nobody is going to take your shoes?" Annisa said in a calming tone. "I'll keep an eye on them until you're done, ok? Do you want me to help you with the buckles?"

David slowly nodded his head, and a few seconds later, he was trying to force his feet flat as an excruciating pain shot up and down the back of his smooth, hairless legs.

“Here Fifi, let me help, you?” Annisa said, putting her arm around the skirted man.

“Why is she still being so nice to me?” David thought as he allowed her to guide him across the room. “And why is everyone still calling me Fifi?”

The confusion and the anxiety remained as he had his height and weight measured, his picture and fingerprints taken, and his eyeballs scanned. By the time, what he believed to be a confession form, was placed in front of him, he felt like crying. All his courage from earlier had dissipated, now replaced with fear. What was going to happen to him? Would he be thrown into an Indonesian prison dressed as he was? A men's prison?

Looking up sadly at Annisa, she smiled back down at him before nodding her head. Taking a deep breath, he scribbled his name on the dotted line and waited for the handcuffs to appear.

“Ok Fifi, time to go home,” Annisa announced before turning to the man to thank him for all his help.

“Home?” David mumbled in a shaky voice. “You mean home to the apartment?”

“Yes, where else would I mean?” A confused-looking Annisa asked.

“Oh… err… never mind,” David squeaked, quickly jumping to his high-heeled feet before she changed her mind. “Home sounds wonderful.”

Eyeing every security guard as he tottered out of the building on wobbly legs, David’s whole body was shaking. Even stepping out the door into the humid Jakartan street, he half expected to see a police car waiting to cart him away. Instead parked by the curb with the driver holding open the back door was their chauffeur-driven Mercedes, waiting to whisk them off home.

Once inside the car, Annisa turned to David. “Are you ok?” She asked in a soothing voice. “I’m sorry for not explaining what was going to happen in there. I can see now how it must have been frightening for you, not knowing. I just wanted everything done before Saturday so I could surprise you.”

“Saturday? What’s happening on Saturday?” David asked in a quiet shaky voice.

“Your birthday, of course!” Annisa cheerfully announced. “I'm not sure why you didn't say anything, but I saw the date on your birth certificate. But you just wait. I have something real special planned!”