A/N: Happy spooky month. This is going to be a bit of a slightly shorter fic - just a lighter (both in length and in tone), more self-contained thing. Not sure exactly how long it'll run, but definitely not a super long-term deal…at least not in comparison to some of my other stories, which can end up spanning over a year.
Title comes from a song from The Rocky Horror Show which does feature in this fic a bit - I'm doing my best to make it so that you don't need to have seen Rocky Horror to understand this fic, but it'll probably make a little bit more sense in parts if you have…and I'm assuming most people will have? Maybe?
Santa Carla was a town that was fine with freaks - the self-proclaimed kind, usually, but all sorts in general, too. That was why Holly knew that she and her cast-mates were well and truly making a spectacle of themselves, because people actually stopped and stared as they raced down the boardwalk that night in full costume. Or maybe they were just amazed that Ben, the star of the show, was managing to sprint at full tilt in ankle-breaking platform heels and a corset. The wolf-whistles they earned throughout their procession down the boardwalk towards the ramshackle outdoor concert venue that Santa Carla offered were almost entirely all for him, and for that Holly could not blame them. He did pull the look off rather well.
While she'd only been working with the fabled Rocky Horror show travelling up and down the west coast for a few months - acting as their resident Columbia - she'd heard good things about Santa Carla from her cast-mates. The crowds were always great in general - alcohol and audience participation made for a surprisingly electric atmosphere, and she'd yet to get sick of the role - but apparently Santa Carla really got into the spirit whenever the show was in town. It wasn't exactly what she'd expected, what with the whole "murder capital of the world" thing, but that didn't dampen her excitement much. Mainly because nobody was going to fuck with her with a near-enough seven foot Frank-N-Furter at her side.
So far the only complaint she had about the place was a lack of a dressing room, necessitating their sprint down the boardwalk in full costume in the run-up to the start of the show. Any costume changes would have to be done behind a privacy screen in the shoddily fenced off area towards the side of the stage, which did rather ruin the theatre magic element of it all, but she wasn't quite showbiz enough to take real issue with it just yet. As far as whiling away the very first few years of her twenties went, she could imagine much worse problems to deal with than the ones set before her. If anything, it made her feel alive - sprinting down the infamous Santa Carla boardwalk in fishnets, a bright gold sparkly tailcoat and matching top hat, with her just as oddly-dressed colleagues, the sound of carnival music and revelry all around them (almost loud enough to drown out the teasing cat calls they drew), and the biting ocean air whipping around them.
Well, right up until that lovely breeze ripped the hat right off of her head. Cursing, she shot a hand up, but her fingertips barely brushed the sequined rim before the wind carried it off and away down the boardwalk. Groaning, she was just preparing herself for a mad dash after it when a hand darted out and caught it as it passed by - a hand that belonged to a very cute biker type with a head full of blond curls and one of the coolest jackets she'd ever seen. Holly faltered, glancing back to her cast-mates.
Most hadn't noticed her woes, running on ahead in a sea of glitter, but Ben had, pausing a few feet away. Glancing towards her and then back to where her hat was being held hostage, he nodded towards it, non-verbally asking if she wanted him to retrieve it for her instead. She understood the offer, too - for the biker put the hat atop his head and turned to his one…two…three friends with a cheeky grin, who all laughed in return, cracking a few jokes that she couldn't hear over the general din of the boardwalk. For a moment she considered letting Ben go instead, but the biker glanced towards her and finally she shook her head, and began walking towards them.
There was only one way to pull off the sort of get-up she was in, and that was to own it - so she strode right up to them, forcing a smile of her own on her features as she approached. They weren't unfriendly. Hell, as far as a big group of guys went, they were outwardly quite approachable - they didn't make any crude comments, didn't whistle, just smirked a little as they watched her walk towards them. Still, she couldn't help but feel like she was walking into the lion's den. Maybe it was natural, but she wasn't much of a self-conscious type - a fact that allowed her to do what she did - and her own timidness caught her by surprise.
Turning away from his friends and back towards her, the one with her hat lifted it from atop his head and extended it out towards her with one hand when she was within arm's reach. Smiling her thanks, Holly reached out to take it, but when she did he jerked it back out of her grasp with a teasing lopsided grin. Her smile turned rueful as she breathed a laugh, extending her hand expectantly. Thankfully, he didn't keep up the game past the point of it actually being funny. Holding the hat out, this time he let her take it, although the smile remained on his face the whole time.
Once it was back on her head, Holly tilted it dramatically in thanks and turned on her heel, ready to return to Ben - who remained where she'd left him, watching the whole interaction carefully.
"Nice jacket," the guy called after her.
She paused, and turned again, this time with more of a genuine smile on her face "Thanks. I could say the same to you."
Grin widening, he plucked at the collar of his patched up jacket, chin tilted upwards in an exaggerated show of pride.
"You guys comin' to the show?"
She wasn't even sure what compelled her to ask, glancing around the small group.
"Are you in the show?" The one who'd grabbed her hat asked.
In response to the flirtatious comment, one of his friends - the one with the bleached blond mullet - snickered and muttered something to the one with the long dark hair, who grinned in return and shook his head. Despite their muttering amongst themselves, though, they all seemed content to more or less stay quiet and simply watch the interaction with an amused sort of interest.
"You think I'd be dressed like this if I wasn't?"
"Hey, you wouldn't believe the sort of shit you see around here," he shrugged.
"Holly," Ben called from where he stood, impatience growing.
She understood why - they had perhaps ten minutes tops before it was time for them to go on.
"Tell you what - if you tell the ticket guys that Holly and Ben sent you, they'll let you in for free," she said, already beginning to take a few steps backwards, gesturing to the hat "A reward for saving the day. Thank you!"
And then she was too busy racing back down the boardwalk to pay much mind about the chuckles that she left in her wake.
Approximately four hours and three Time Warps later (for they always did the one during the show, another at the end to go out with a bang - and tonight the crowd in Santa Carla had demanded an additional encore that they were only too happy to give), Holly stood by the entrance of the hotel they were staying at for the week, dressed in an old Led Zeppelin tee, pyjama shorts, and fluffy leopard print slippers, cigarette in one hand and a hot chocolate in the other. It wasn't the most exciting as far as post-show traditions went, but it was her own and she loved it. Especially after a show like the one tonight.
Everybody had been right - the atmosphere in Santa Carla was nothing short of electric. Outdoor venues could be tricky at times - especially standing outdoor venues. Not many wanted to stand and watch a show, even a musical, and the wind and general openness of everything could drown out the voices of the audience and make the energy of the crowd seem lacklustre at best, even if it was just entirely average. But there'd been nothing average about that crowd. They joined in, they danced along, they roared with laughter, the whole thing had been the perfect show, and had entirely lived up to everything her fellow actors had told her about the town. When Santa Carla partied, it really partied. The party wasn't over yet, either - it was after midnight, but the boardwalk and the beach raged on, both visible from the front steps of the hotel. She was already sure she'd be sorry to leave at the end of the week…although then they'd be moving on to LA, which was hardly a quiet place as it was.
"Shit, girl, almost didn't recognise you."
Jumping, Holly cursed as she managed to drop her cigarette and splash her drink across her hand all at once. Turning her head, she was greeted with the guy from earlier - but he was on his own this time.
"The hair gave me away, huh?" She greeted, shaking her hand dry.
It was easier to keep her hair cut short and dye it red than it was to faff around with wigs every night - especially on top of the caked-on stage make-up. Shooting an amused look at her cigarette, now discarded on the floor, he pulled a joint from his pocket.
"Consolation prize?"
Blinking in surprise, Holly shrugged "Sure - but this'll be the second time you've saved the night."
He gave a shrug that was probably supposed to seem humble, pressing the joint between his lips before shielding his lighter with one hand so he could spark it. Only after taking a deep draw did he return his attention to her, looking at her like he was trying to figure her out.
"Holly, right?" He exhaled smoke as he handed her the joint "Name's Marko."
"Nice to meet you Marko," she accepted it, and then wedged it between her lips so she could shake the hand he offered "I see you and your friends enjoyed yourselves tonight."
She hadn't spotted them until the end - when they turned the lights on the crowd for the final rendition of the Time Warp. But spot them she had, at the back, doing the most vigorous and erratic rendition of the dance she'd seen yet. It had almost been enough to make her fuck up her steps, the sight had been so damn funny.
"Wasn't expecting it to be so good," he admitted with a shrug "Thought it'd be some cheesy show like…like Grease or somethin'."
"You've never seen it?"
"Do I seem like the theatre type?" He snorted.
"They did a movie just a few years ago."
"Don't got a TV," he shrugged.
"Fascinating," she considered him, taking a long draw of the joint before handing it back.
He laughed - not the low chuckle from before, but a lighter burst of laughter that seemed genuinely amused.
"Fascinating?" He echoed like it was the most absurd word he'd ever heard.
"Fascinating," she nodded sagely.
"Well, thanks, I guess. S'pose I could say the same to you," he echoed her words from earlier.
Holly smirked. Touché, Marko, touché.
"You here long?" He followed up before she could respond.
"Just the week. Then we head up to LA."
"Interesting," he said.
"But not fascinating?" She offered a teasing smile.
He considered the question for a moment, returning her smile just a little.
"Remains to be seen," he replied in the end, handing her back the joint - of which a good half still remained "For a job well done."
It sure beat a bouquet of roses.
"Thank you, kind sir," she said lightly, watching as he turned and started to walk away.
He spun on his heel, walking backwards for just long enough to offer a final grin and a wink, and then he was gone. Usually she hated when guys tried to act cool, but there was no mistaking that on this Marko's part, acting had nothing to do with it. It would be an interesting week, indeed.