Naked, Gara sits on a finely decorated chair, her knees to her chin, her eyes fixed on the floor as she weathers the barrage of cussing.

"First that interview and now this? I'm tired of you making me look like a fool!"

"No worries there," Gara drawls. "You don't ever need me to do that, love. You do just fine on your own." She barely flinches at the next strike. "Well, if you're gonna hit, put some more force into it."

Gara's husband wails, "You had something to do with this! I know you did. You've come off the gaw-ro rails, you piece of shit."

"Whatever you think it is that I did," Gara begins, meeting the man's gaze. "Don't you think I'd at least have sent someone to put a hole in you, too?"

Fists raised, the man huffs and puffs.

Gara barely cuts him a glance as she focuses on the floor again. "Go ahead. Then you do the gaw-ro promotion interviews instead of me. I'm sure nobody'll tell the difference."

The man lowers his hand, his body drooping.

"What is it you want? What the hell is it you actually need to spend even one damn second content? Huh? What could you possibly gain from any of this?"

"Get from this?" Gara asks. "I was with my bodyguard. But assuming I know what you're talking about, maybe you should reconsider watching private recordings of me having sex." She squints before she could get a reply. "You know which ones. The ones that matter to me."

"You have people robbing our home. Are you out of your gaw-ro mind?" he cursed.

Scoffing, Gara lowers her gaze once more. "And again, you assume I had anything to do with it. I was busy having fun," Gara mutters. "But you wouldn't know how that feels, all two seconds of you. Fuck, at this point it's so fast that you barely tickle me."

Servants gather, mostly with diskettes in hand to give a list of all that is missing. Everything falls silent, though.

"Take that back," the man warns.

Gara keeps her gaze low as she cocks her head. "You're right, it does tickle me sometimes."

Sucking in a deep breath, the man turns to one of the servants and says, "Get me fuel. Get me fuel and a gaw-ro match."

At this, Gara picks her head up.

I still stand in front of that narrow passageway, mostly because I don't dare go anywhere else. I have no way to help her—I have no way out of this place.

On a good day, I'd jump at the chance to pretend to be Gara's lover. Today leaves me queasy, however.

The servant returns with the copper container. Gara sits up, her feet on the floor, finally.

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"Wait..." she says but stops herself.

The man in charge stands with his back to Gara, a small smile forming. He nods to the passage beyond me and says, "Light that shit up."

A servant glances back at Gara then lumbers down the hallway. Five minutes later a flame gushes out of the opening.

Gara sits and watches. Silent even as the System warns of the fire and offers to quell it. Silent as the man of the house, the one to order the fire made, declines the suggestion and orders the System to allow it to burn. And she's silent as everyone eventually walks away.

The shrine—her 'private space' and the miner's clothes and quaint decorations are gone. I can't see it, but the passageway is crimson mixed with black. The bellowing smoke gets sucked up where the passage meets the main house by the vents. It's still eerie and surreal. She and me are the only two left.

Can I leave? Do I want to leave? I'm not sure. The flame finally dies away, but Gara still watches on. A tear runs down her cheek as she stands and makes her way down that hall.

When she reaches the little room, she closes the door behind her and the sound to erupt after that makes my blood run cold. Never have I heard someone cry like this.

I'm not sure what I can do but leaving seems like the best—the only option.

The front door is still open. I make it there just as Gara's husband spots me and says, "Hey. Where the fuck are you going?"

I turn to look at him, struggling to find an answer.

"I don't know who the fuck you are, but I know you're not any damn lover. Hold out your gaw-ro hand."

My heart hurts, it's beating so fast. He puts a diskette against my fingertips and waits.

I only caught a glimpse of my picture as my profile starts to scroll on his diskette.

Whatever he finds there makes him snort out a laugh. "Well how'd you like that, you train with Job?" He looks me in the eye.

I think I manage to nod.

"So you are a bodyguard, then? I hadn't expected that." He studies my face a bit longer and then says, "The bodyguard part I'll let slip, but that doesn't mean I forgive and forget easy. If she's hired you idiots to steal, then you might as well be the ones to clean up after her when she goes crazy. So fine, bodyguard, you have a simple task tonight, make sure that fucker doesn't die with a needle in her gaw-ro arm."

And then the man leaves. It only takes me a few hours to see why. Gara exits that room looking like a ghost. I stand around and watch servants scurry from her path. Once she circles the house to find that the bastard she's looking for is gone, she disappears into the room with the large doors and I don't see her for another hour, not until she steps out washed and seemingly unmoved.

After that, two people arrive. Then three, and by dinner time, the entire house is full. Music blasts, food circles the room, and Gara sits in a large chair in the corner, reclining as she watches it.

Never mind that I have on those boots from that shrine. Never mind that I have no idea what I'm doing here. I want to talk to her, but I'm not sure what I can say. Nobody else seems interested in talking to her, either, because while the house took on the atmosphere of a small chaotic club within a matter of hours, few people pass Gara by. Instead, they allow her to sit there in her nice outfit and skirt-like sash, a pocket watch in hand, observing them.

Eventually, Gara stands on her own and wades into the crowd.

I circle the room to get a better view of her. Whatever arrangements of tablets she sifts through, I worry.

She looks happier once she pops a pill into a nearby man's mouth and kisses him to take it back. Three more people offer her something the very same way and she leans back, seemingly at peace.

One of her guests catches sight of me and nudges her . "Hey. Who's this?"

Eyes glazed, Gara glances to him, then at me, and stares up at the ceiling yet again. "Don't know."

I worry for her , but that worry fades when the guest holds out a pill to me. "You looking to go?"

Go? All around me there's chaos, and I'm the only one soberly watching it. The look I'm getting says one thing, take it or leave.

So I sit down, and look around to see how the better half lives.

I never get back the rest of that night.