Part 1: Two Faces

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Tomek often felt like he lived in two worlds—one known, the other hidden in shadows. By day, he was an ordinary student in a gray apartment block on the outskirts of Wrocław. His studio, rented from an elderly woman, had thin walls that let in hallway noises, but he didn't complain—he didn't need more. The space was modest: a desk buried in books and notebooks, a cup of forgotten coffee on the table, and a pile of unfinished assignments. Oddly, his life mirrored his apartment—slightly neglected, but not beyond repair.

He was in his fourth year of university. Lectures took place in creaky wooden halls, ending with the same exhausted sigh from professors hoping students were satisfied (they never were). Tomek didn't stand out—he wasn't the extrovert or the one with all the answers. He sat quietly, taking notes, just trying to survive the day.

After classes, he rushed to work. Delivering food for KFC wasn't degrading to him—it was an escape. Riding his bike through the city, wind on his face, he felt free. No questions, no expectations—just orders and customer smiles that never looked beyond the delivery guy.

But none of this was what truly called to him. When he returned to his empty apartment, the silence became unbearable. Something stirred inside him—something buried deep.

Every time the door closed behind him, he entered another world. His alone. From a drawer, he pulled out forgotten treasures—old dresses of his mother's, soft and delicate. He'd slip them on, sit before the mirror, and watch his reflection shift. No longer the gray student from Wejherowo—now, he was Lena.

Lena wasn't just a disguise. She was a feeling—stronger, freer, beautiful. The weight of powerlessness lifted from his shoulders. This was the part of him that existed only behind locked doors.

Sometimes he didn't understand why he felt this way. It was strange, but he couldn't stop. Two realities: one where he was just another guy, the other where he feared rejection. Lena's world was tender, intimate, yet rebellious.

But that night, after another routine delivery, something shifted. A crack formed. He didn't know what it meant yet—only that he might not be ready for what came next.

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