I’m the son of a wealthy Russian businessman. Back home, my father is well-known for his success and influence. Recently, he had to travel to the United States to handle some important business matters. When he arrived in New York City, he brought me along with him. After settling in, he left me at our luxurious townhouse in Manhattan while he went off to take care of things elsewhere for a couple of weeks.

Left to my own devices in a massive, unfamiliar city, I decided to explore. I reconnected with a few acquaintances I knew from previous visits—friends of the family, mostly—and one night, we ended up at a strip club in the city. Everything around me was loud and bright, filled with music, laughter, and flashing lights. But while I tried to act like I belonged, I couldn’t hide one thing: my English was terrible. Conversations blurred together like background noise, and I struggled to keep up. Frustrated and a little embarrassed, I asked one of the staff if there was anyone who could actually understand me.