"Hey!" Libby called from the bathroom. "Are you surrounding yourself with the pungent smell?"
I looked up from the house's basement bathroom where I was trying to fix something with the water heater. I breathed out heavily.
"I can't tell if it's the radiator or the stink," I replied, returning to my work.
"I don't care! Don't you find it uncomfortable?" Libby screamed from the doorway. She had taken off her shoes and entered the basement completely barefoot.
"Look, I don't know how you make it work, but I'm not a princess!" I called back.
"I can't work in this stench! We'll have to close the windows all day!"
"How do you make it work?" I asked her desperately.
"I wear sealed shoes and socks. Sometimes I bring a mask. I even manage to shut off the heat when I know you're going to be down here, but oh my god, if you're going to turn it on for however long you need to, you're going to need to put on a shirt, too."
"Well, that makes total sense," I joked. "Let me finish this, then. I'll just get out of the open space for now. I have a shirt here somewhere. I'll put it on when I'm done."
"That's not going to help!"
I sighed and hunkered back over the water heater.
"When you see my shirt, you'll know I'm done," I said.
There was more muttering from Libby as she shut the basement door behind her, but after a few minutes of my project, I had to set the wrench down with a clank to wipe my brow.
"I need the shirts," I said, breathing out the words rather than saying them aloud.
I got up and found the first shirt I could find that matched what I wore. It was a dirty white t-shirt that I'd picked up from the floor of the bar.
After getting the shirt on, I went out the basement door. Libby and I looked at each other for a moment before bursting out laughing.
"I don't want to smell for the rest of the day!" she said, collapsing in laughter.
"We haven't even started yet," I said, diminishing her amusement with a smile. "I'm not done yet."
I laid my tool belt down on the floor and began to strip my shirt off.
"What do you think you're doing?" Libby asked.
"Taking my shirt off," I said, sarcastically.
"I know that," she said, laughing again. "But why?"
"Because it's hot in the bathroom. The radiators are all... on. There's a lot of... dumb heating things here," I said, letting the words trail off as I pulled the shirt off, revealing the white tank-top I wore under it.
"And?" Libby asked, tilting her head.
"See, I'm getting dressed for the job," I said.
Libby smiled, knowing she couldn't evaluate properly what I was doing.
The two of us worked up a sweat and a skin condition in the basement, alternating between removing and replacing the shirts as the punishment for the sweat smell began to set in.
"I didn't know it would be this hot in the basement!" Libby said as we changed positions for the third shirt.
"I had a theory about heating systems," I replied. "They either operate independently of anything else or with the help of other systems. I guess this one is just on its own."
"What on Earth are you talking about?" Libby asked.
"Not important. What matters is taking care of this situation. I don't think the heat will last all day, so we can change in the open room. I think that's more comfortable."
We both looked toward the open room at the entry to the basement. The floor was of rough boards and the ceiling was even from boards on all sides. There was very little wall space, so the place was divided into numerous smaller rooms. One of these rooms, the room I had just entered, had a bathroom in it. We were currently in the direct center of the open room, so it was a safe bet that it was the bathroom in this room.
We took a step in and looked around. The door shut behind us with a considerable click, and I was suddenly aware of my body again.
"I need the bathroom," I said, looking toward the shower area and grabbing a toothbrush out of a small caddy.
"I can't believe we're down here!" Libby said. "I never thought I'd have to do anything like this!"
"It's an adventure!" I said, smiling. "What's it like?"
"It's disgusting and gross, that's what," she said. "You can't even get anyone to turn the heat off!"
"It's not that bad," I said, trying to encourage her.
There was a small mirror on the wall in front of the sinks. I looked at myself for a moment and shook my head, trying to shake it away.
"I don't know why," Libby said, "but I'm more scared now than when this whole thing started."
"Hey!" I said, angry. "You need to buck up. You're in this competition for money, you know."
"How much is this show paying?" Libby asked.
"Well... I don't know. We don't see that yet, but I think it's pretty good. This is your chance to fix everything."
"I don't want to fix everything. I'm happy with it," Libby said, between rubs of her hair.
She really was a mess. Her workout bra was still on, showing her nearly flat chest, and her cheeks were red from crying.
"Only a coward would choose happiness over money."
"I don't want to compete for money. I don't want to compete at all."
"Why did you do it, then?"
"I didn't want to do this!" she said, as though I was crazy for suggesting such a thing. "I wanted to act. I wanted to be an actress."
"It's go time, Lib. It's a new world. Do you know how many actors don't make it? They're long gone, replaced by cheaper, better actors in a second. It's the same story with actresses. You're running out of chances to be a star. You're already behind the curve and you need to catch up before things get worse for you."
"How are they ever gonna get worse than this, though?" Libby asked. "I have a chance to get out of the basement and prove myself."