INT. LIZA'S DACHA. LATE EVENING.
It is already dark outside. LIZA and VICTORIA collapse onto the old sofa, exhausted, wiping sweat away. The place is clean and cozy.
— Ten hours and voilà! Cleanliness and order! And you said we'd never scrub off thisdust of ages!
— I just didn't believe we'd manage to clear up all this mess, — Vikadrawled, inspecting the sparkling windows and floor.
Liza sharply gets up from the sofa. She playfully rushes to her backpack and pulls out a bottle of expensive wine, a selection of gourmet cheeses, and a bunch of grapes.
— Wow! — Victoria instantly brightens up. — Is that theChâteauneuf-du-Pape? Liz, isn't it a bit expensive? We're at a dacha, not the Cannes Film Festival.
— Expensive?! That man rented it for a month! He agreed to pay such a sum that it'll be enough not only to earn money but to get back everything I spent on that damn business trip for that damnpseudo-romantic Gleb! Drink up, Vika, tomorrow I'm looking at a big score.
EXT. DACHA. PORCH.
The next day, at the appointed time, Vika and Liza happily waited for the tenant.
— Still, Liz, it's strange, — Vika said, nervously rubbing her palms. — A rich man coming to such a remote dacha, in a backwater village. Maybe he's a maniac? Or running away from his wife with a mistress?
In the distance, a luxury foreign car appears on the dirt road. A huge black SUV with a bicycle on the roof.
— He said he'd be alone. He wants solitude and peace, — Liza reassured her friend. — But you're right. The car isn't cheap.
Vika immediately crosses her fingers and whispers.
—Please be single! Please be single!
— Liza, what are you doing?
— What? What? All the eligible bachelors in our backwater have been taken long ago. I can't stay an old maid forever, — Lizablurted out, adjusting her full chest.
The car stops. Gleb is in no rush to get out. He glances at the old house, the wild garden, and the leaning porch. The girls try to make him out through the dark tinted glass.
— Why isn't he getting out? Maybe he saw the house and changed his mind? — Vika sighed, disappointed.
After a moment, Gleb finally steps out of the car. Handsome, tall, in a leather jacket. For Liza and Vika, it was a realpunch to the gut. They expected anyone—a banker, a boring manager—but not thiscelebrity, whose personal life had recently blown up all the media. The girls freeze incomplete, absolute shock, as if they'd been electrocuted. Vika covers her mouth with her hand.
— Liza, that's...Gleb! What the hell is he doing here?!
— Shhh! Be quiet! Let's pretend we don't recognize him. I'm sure someone like him won't even remember me.
Gleb, ignoring the girls' obviousdaze, approaches the porch.
— Good afternoon. Which one of you is the owner?
— That would be me, — Liza replied,pulling herself together.
Gleb carefully inspected her from head to toe. Liza felt like adisplay exhibit. Hisnerve made her jaw clench.
— Excellent, — Gleb said nonchalantly. — Show me the house.
INT. DACHA. LIVING ROOM.
Liza shows Gleb around the house.
— The house, as you can see, is old but very cool. If you heat it, it will be very warm. Firewood is outside. The water is from an artesian well; you can drink it straight from the tap. The lake is nearby. The air is clean, quiet,relaxing.
— I have my own bedding, — Gleb said,casting a dismissive look at the towels. — Take all the towels, pillowcases, and sheets. I need an empty closet.
Glebdisgustedly pulls out all the linen and towels, which Liza had so carefully ironed, and hands them to her.
— Fine, — Lizahissed through clenched teeth, barely concealing her resentment. — The toilet is outside.
— There's no toilet inside?
— No. But that's wonderful! You can combine pleasure with necessity—get some fresh air while you cleanse your body, — Liza barely suppresses a smile.
— Alright. Outside it is. I'll take it. I'm paying in cash.
Quickly grabbing the thick wad of bills, Liza and Vika immediately said goodbye and left the house.
EXT. DACHA. DAY / INT. CAR.
Stepping into the yard, the girls quickly rushed to their old car, as if they werefleeing. Liza hastily started the engine.
Gleb watched them leave from the window. He didn't move until the car, raising a cloud of dust, disappeared around the bend. His gaze was cold and piercing, as if he was trying toremember something.
When the car was completely gone, Gleb finally moved. He slowly headed toward the small wooden structure standing a little way from the house—the one Liza had so enthusiastically called "combining pleasure with necessity."
He stopped in front of the toilet, which looked more like an oversized birdhouse, and cautiously,squeamishly, opened the rickety door. Inside was only a hole in the floor and a rather rough, rotten wooden platform. Gleb's face instantlytwisted in disgust. It seemed he had envisioned something entirely different under the word "relax."
INT. CAR.
Vika couldn't stop laughing.
— Oh, I can't! He wants an indoor toilet!Afraid to freeze his sweet butt! So much for his relaxation!
— Let him suffer a bit. This is just the beginning, Vikusya. He didn't recognize me, and that's his main mistake. My intuition tells me this meeting will bring me a lot of benefit. I will definitely find a way torepay Gleb for his past rudeness!
Vika shook her head in utter shock.
— Like a movie... only instead of a charming prince, it's aqueer, who will now be freezing his butt outside.
INT. NEWSPAPER PUBLISHING HOUSE. DIRECTOR'S OFFICE.
As soon as Liza returned from the dacha, she immediately went to work. Full of adrenaline, she burst into Vyacheslav Sergeyevich's office like a whirlwind, again without knocking. Her boss was standing on a chair, trying to hang a picture on the wall. From Liza's abrupt entrance, he fell down along with the painting. But Liza was so excited that she didn't even notice her boss falling.
— Vyacheslav Sergeyevich, give me the opportunity to run an article onsexual minorities!
— Liza! You again! This is a sensitive topic! I forbid it!
— I have access to the actorGleb! — Liza lowered her voice to aconspiratorial whisper. — The one who was recently exposed in that 'sensitive' scandal! No one has been able to interview him yet. I know where he is hiding!
— Gleb? — Vyacheslav Sergeyevich raised a disbelieving eyebrow. — You, Liza? I don't really trust your words, but... if you actually get an interview with him andexpose him for what he's being accused of... I'll not only give you the front page but also write you a bonus.Go for it!