Chapter 2: Building Tension
Steo was startled by a sharp knock at the door. He froze, his heart pounding in his chest. He'd been lost in his own reflection, the transformation so captivating that he'd forgotten about the world outside. The knock came again, more insistent this time. He looked around the room, his eyes landing on his reflection again. He looked... good. But he also looked like a woman, a fact that he wasn't quite ready to reconcile with the real world.
"Steo?" A muffled voice called from the other side of the door. "You home, buddy?"
Steo's brow furrowed in confusion.
He recognized that voice—it was the plumber, the same guy who'd been skulking around the house for the past few days, fixing pipes and grumbling about the state of their plumbing. Steo had been too busy with work to pay him much attention, but now, it was just him and the plumber, separated by a door and a whole lot of awkward.
"Uh, yeah," Steo called out, his voice cracking slightly. He cleared his throat, trying to dislodge the sudden lump that had formed. "Just a sec."
He looked around the room, his eyes landing on the cheerleading uniform discarded on the couch.
He quickly snatched it up and hurried to the bedroom, stuffing it under the bed along with the wig and makeup. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves before he opened the front door.
The plumber, a burly man with a thick mustache and a name tag that read "Victor," stood on the porch, holding a toolbox. His eyes widened when he saw Steo, taking in his disheveled appearance and the faint trace of lipstick still on his lips. Victor asked, his voice laced with confusion. "Everything okay, buddy? You look...
flustered, is everything alright?"
Steo wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, trying to mask the remnants of makeup. "Oh, yeah, everything's fine. Just, uh, just had a bit of a... spill," he stammered, gesturing vaguely to his lips. "You know, coffee. It has a mind of its own sometimes."
Victor's eyebrows shot up, but he didn't press the issue. "Right, well, I'm here to take a look at that pipe in your basement.
You said something about it making a funny noise?" Victor shifted his toolbox to his other hand, his gaze lingering on Steo for a moment longer than necessary before he walked past him into the house.
Steo nodded, closing the door behind him. "Yeah, that's the one. It's been driving me nuts." He followed Victor down the hallway, trying to walk casually despite the tightness of the pleated skirt. He couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious, as if Victor could see right through him – or rather, through the cheerleading uniform.
As they descended the stairs into the basement, Steo started to relax a little.
The dim lighting and the hum of the furnace helped to mask any lingering traces of his earlier ventures. Victor flipped on the overhead light, flooding the room with a harsh, unforgiving glow. Steo squinted, his eyes adjusting to the sudden brightness.
"So, where's this noisy pipe?" Victor asked, setting his toolbox down on the concrete floor.
Steo gestured toward the far corner of the room. "Over there, by the water heater. It's been making this weird grinding sound every time I run the washing machine."
Victor nodded, walking over to the pipe in question.
He crouched down, tapping it gently with a wrench. "Hmm, yeah, I hear it. Sounds like you've got some mineral buildup in there," he said, shaking his head. "You've been using too much of that fancy, soft water, haven't you?"
Steo shrugged, leaning against the wall. "Maybe. My wife's into all that stuff. She says it's better for your skin."
Victor huffed, standing up and dusting off his knees. "Well, it's murder on your pipes, that's for sure. I'll get this sorted out for you, though.
Might take a little while," Victor said, rummaging through his toolbox. "You got any coffee around here? I could use a cup while I work."
"Sure, help yourself," Steo replied, waving a hand toward the stairs. "It's in the kitchen. Mugs are in the cabinet above the coffee maker."
Victor nodded and made his way back up the stairs, leaving Steo alone in the basement. Steo let out a sigh of relief, running a hand through his hair—or at least, what was left of it under the wig.