INTERIOR. DACHA. BEDROOM.

Morning light breaks through the loosely drawn curtains. Gleb wakes up, winces from the pain in his back, and stretches his neck. The old spring mattress clearly did not agree with his body, which was used to orthopedic beds. Gleb slowly gets dressed and leaves the room.

INTERIOR. DACHA. KITCHEN.

Entering the kitchen, Gleb makes himself a cup of strong coffee and pours it into the elegant white mug he brought with him. Taking a deep breath of the bitter aroma, he throws on his jacket and goes outside.

EXTERIOR. DACHA. BACKYARD.

Comfortably settled on a wooden rocking chair, Gleb sips his coffee with pleasure. The crispness of the morning and the light scent of autumn hang in the air. He admires the beautiful view: the mirror-like surface of the lake, surrounded by the golden forest.

The perfect, tranquil solitude is broken by the sound of a car parking. It’s Liza. She gets out, quickly adjusts her hair, and heads resolutely towards the house. She knocks on the door, disturbing Gleb’s peace and quiet. Annoyed by the arrival of the uninvited guest, Gleb abruptly sets his mug down on the wooden table and reluctantly goes to open it.

EXTERIOR. DACHA. PORCH.

Gleb opens the door. Liza stands on the threshold with a strained smile.

— Good morning! I came to check up. How is my tenant doing? Is everything okay? Do you need anything?

— I need only one thing, — Gleb replies curtly. — For no one to bother me. Are you satisfied?

— But...

— Goodbye.

Gleb slams the old wooden door with a dull thud right in front of Liza’s face. The friendly, strained smile transforms into a malicious sneer. Moving away from the door, she quickly goes to the side wall where the water pipes run. Forcefully twisting the rusty valve, she breaks it with a small stone. Satisfied with herself, Liza gets into her car, starts the engine, and drives away with an aggressive jerk.

INTERIOR. DACHA. SHOWER / BEDROOM.

Slamming the door shut on the uninvited guest, Gleb opens his travel bag and takes out a soft white towel. Stripping off all his clothes, he heads to the shower.

Entering the shower stall, he turns on the tap. Only a short hiss of air, not water, comes out of the showerhead. Grabbing the phone in anger, Gleb dials a number labeled “Cling-On.”

— Hello, — Liza’s voice answers; she is driving in her car at the moment.

— There’s no water in the house! What is this?

— Really? Everything was fine. Perhaps there’s a breakdown.

— Then fix it immediately.

— Unfortunately, I’m very busy right now and can’t come over. But don’t worry. There’s an old well in the backyard. You can haul some water, heat it up in pots, and wash. Just like the good old days!

Gleb angrily throws the phone, gets dressed, and goes outside.

EXTERIOR. DACHA. BACKYARD.

Gleb doesn’t see the well right away. He approaches the stone structure, set in the faded grass. Feeling the wet rope, he lowers the bucket. He pulls, hunched over, looking at the wet ground beneath his feet. It takes several trips to fetch the required amount of water. He hauled it as if serving the most meaningless and repulsive punishment. This was not the kind of relaxation he envisioned in a place secluded from the hustle and bustle.

INTERIOR. DACHA. KITCHEN.

Pots of water stand on all four gas burners; the kitchen is filled with steam and anticipation. Gleb waits for the water to heat up. Suddenly, the flames on the burners go out with a soft pffft. The gas is finished.

Gleb erupts in fury. His face twists with anger. He calls Liza again, who, upon hearing the problem, feigns concern with pretended regret.

— What, the gas too? I can’t help with anything. I can’t come. Wait until tomorrow, I’ll figure something out. And anyway... why don’t you bathe in the lake? The water there is good and clean.

INTERIOR. EDITORIAL OFFICE.

Gleb doesn’t get a chance to protest. Liza hangs up and joyfully dances, twirling in her office chair.

— Who called that made you so happy? — Vika asks.

— My hapless tenant. It’s obvious he’s a fussy, helpless gay man. He can’t do anything without me! I shut off his water pipe. The gas cylinder wasn’t enough to heat the water. So, I advised him to bathe in the lake. He doesn’t know it’s boggy!

Volodya, listening to the friends’ conversation, scratches his chin.

— Liza, you are a scary and dangerous woman... — the guy concludes.

— He’ll learn not to offend me.

EXTERIOR. DACHA. BACKYARD / LAKE.

Following Liza’s advice, Gleb goes out to the lake shore. The cold autumn wind whips through his hair. Resolutely shedding his robe, he runs headlong into the water. Surfacing, he winces from the cold; his head is covered in nasty duckweed, and his legs are up to the knee in slimy, cold muck. His ideal, trained torso is smeared with swamp filth. Barely climbing out onto the bank, he wraps himself in the towel, which instantly becomes dirty.

— Liza, you pathetic journalist! — he spits out, clenching his jaw. — You think this is fun? Well, let’s see what else you’re capable of.