Rocky Horror does not belong to me; it belongs to the eternally awesome Richard O' Brien.
This story is rated T (at least for now; I may change it to M later on down the road. Maybe.)
If you celebrate anything around this time of year – Hanukkah, Christmas, Kwanza, Winter Solstice, and any other holidays that I'm missing – may you have the best holidays ever, and a Happy New Year! See you in 2020!
Just a couple of author's notes:
1) Sometimes, multiple chapters will cover the events of one day, while others have days, or even weeks in the time between the events.
2) Also, starting with the last chapter, I am working on including the phantoms and giving them things to do. They don't speak in the show – outside of singing – and I won't write them speaking here, unless I can figure out how to make it work within the context of a scene. However, I will have them do things on their own, instead of being directed by one of the main characters. (What can I say? I like the phantoms for the same reason I like Rocky. They're blank slates.)
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6. Food
Try as she could, she knew she couldn't avoid him forever.
Getting out of the house helped with her mood, if only for a little while. It didn't put her rose-tinted glasses back in place, but it did clear her head.
For now, she was aware of a few things: She'd have to move on from Eddie eventually (though she would put that off for as long as possible), she couldn't avoid Rocky all the time, and she'd have to find the strength that got her through the tough times before. She knew it was there; maybe getting back into the old routine would help.
She'd go to dinner that night; she'd talk to Frank if he talked to her (although talking to Rocky was still not an option); and tomorrow, she'd dance her ass off in the lab.
On the walk home from the cemetery, her stomach growled. Time to see what leftovers Magenta had set aside from breakfast. She'd have to go without coffee for today.
At least, that's what she thought. Coming through the kitchen door, the smell of fresh coffee hit her. Magenta sat at the counter, a mug in her hands and a second mug at the seat next to her, along with a plate of food: eggs, toast, and some kind of meat (she didn't know what exactly, but Magenta said they were akin to sausages). Columbia couldn't help but smirk as she took her jacket off and hung it on the back of the chair. "How did you know?"
The maid shrugged. "I just had a feeling you could use this." A giggle in the corner made the two turn their heads; a couple of phantoms huddled together, their hands over their mouths to contain their laughter. "All right, maybe I had a hint," Magenta admitted, giving them a knowing look.
Columbia felt a small smile tug her lips up as she sat down. "Well, thanks."
For a few minutes, there was only the sound of chewing and silverware clattering (she was hungrier than she thought). Eventually, she noticed Magenta watching her intently; it was nothing new, but Columbia couldn't remember the last time she had done it. "What?"
"I don't think I've ever seen you dressed like that."
A comment like that from Frank made her uncomfortable; from Magenta, it was just a casual conversation starter (for the Transylvanian, anyway). "I doubt they dress like this on your planet, right?"
Magenta shook her head. "It's not that. You look almost...normal. For this planet, anyway."
She paused, a forkful of eggs (at least, Magenta and Frank both said these were eggs on their planet) in the air. How do you respond to that? Was it even a good thing? "Thanks?"
Magenta waved her hand dismissively, sipping her coffee. "Never mind. How's your breakfast?"
"Good. Thanks for setting this up."
"I'm just tired of you eating alone."
"That's what makes you a good friend." Magenta squirmed a little at the term…
From that point on, they talked about other things, ranging from clichés like the weather to whatever news was happening in the galaxy of Transylvania to which songs were best for tapdancing to what they thought Brad and Janet (and other past visitors) were getting up to now. She wasn't in the mood to talk about why she went out or where she went, and Magenta didn't ask. Things like that proved the "I see all" line in "Time Warp" to be true. She just knew when to get into a topic and when to hold back.
The topic eventually moved to the dinner menu for that night. It was nothing fancy – a roasted chicken and some sides – but it brought up another question. "Frank will be there tonight, right?" And Rocky along with him?
Magenta raised an eyebrow. It said, "What do you think?", but Columbia didn't feel embarrassed asking such an obvious question. Now that she was on that topic, it was all she could think about. Despite her little speech when they had company, Frank still held a place in her heart, cheating and all. When he came back to her (between his times with Eddie), she treasured every moment they spent together.
Even if she refused to admit that the good feelings Frank aroused in her were starting to feel rather hollow…
"Well, can you?"
Now she felt embarrassed; she didn't have the best attention span, but she noticed she'd been zoning out a lot more recently. "Sorry," she shook her head, "what'd you say?"
Magenta gave one of her mysterious smiles that could have meant several things. "Sharing a table with Rocky again. Think you can handle it?"
She thought back to that day in the hall, when he'd apologized after bumping into her. He saw how she looked, barely holding it together. Did he think that one little apology would be enough? Was she overthinking it, maybe? He had no idea of how he came to be (he obviously wasn't the brightest and Frank would certainly never tell him everything; hell, she was amazed he was answering all those questions to begin with). He didn't understand how she felt – the pain, the betrayal, the reminder of how she lost everyone she loved in the worst possible ways.
Wait, was she actually giving him the benefit of the doubt? He wouldn't understand. He never would. Frank kept him firmly where he wanted him, and that meant not giving a shit for anyone else.
Oh well, no point in dwelling on it. She couldn't let a thing like that get to her and keep her down. She'd bounce back; it's what she did. She always got up again when she fell during "Time Warp." Why should this be any different?
She drained the last of her coffee. "Yeah, I think I can."
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Frank never noticed he left. Rocky couldn't believe it, nor could he believe that Eddie was talking again.
What were you thinking, following her? Who does that?
Okay, so maybe he wasn't saying anything good, but he was back. That, along with what he learned about Columbia, gave him more to think about.
If only he had more time to think about it today. (Sure, there was always tomorrow, but it was fresh in his mind now.)
He'd been in the gym for a couple of hours, when Frank appeared in the doorway, in his sparkling green scrubs, and brought him up to the lab. There was a table in the middle of the room, with various plates and glasses on it, no doubt set up by Riff Raff, who lurked in the corner, wearing a lab coat and glaring at him. Phantoms were spread around, all wearing aprons, masks, and gloves. (He recognized the two who had helped him downstairs and smiled at them; under their masks, he could tell they were smiling back.)
Frank launched into some speech about health, physique, and sugar, but he wasn't listening. His attention drifted to the table. Each glass was half-full, and each plate had one piece of food on it. He recognized a couple of fruits, and one glass had orange juice in it. Most of the foods, however, were either brightly colored or varying shades of brown, which could also be said of the drinks, although some were fizzing with tiny bubbles.
His gaze fell on one glass, and a plate with a flat, brown rectangle on it. Does that glass have Jack in it? What I wouldn't give to take a slug of Jack again. And is that a Hershey bar? He felt his mouth start to water a little just looking at these things.
Frank nudged him – a little harder than he meant to, hopefully; Frank never wanted to hurt him physically (he only did that to Riff Raff) – and motioned for him to pick something from the table. He said something about how these tests were to ensure that he could "avoid temptation."
Well, whatever that meant, it worked. He wasn't sure if that was part of his design, or if Frank even had anything to do with it. He just knew he had to take a sip of each drink, and a bite of each food, and to swallow everything. Each sip made his head spin; as for the foods, one bite was enough to make his stomach twist painfully.
After every swallow, he saw Frank point to someone and yell "He's trying the candy!" or "Onto the soda!"
What's he trying to do to you?
He had no idea. (Was this really a test, or was it some sort of punishment for Janet?) He just knew for sure that he didn't like these things he was being forced to eat and drink, and that he wouldn't go looking for these things in the future. (He didn't feel as bad after the fruit and the orange juice, but he didn't feel any better either.)
Frank rubbed his back after, handing him one of those popsicles to get the taste out of his mouth (these were the only sugary things, he could handle, if they even had sugar in them). "Sorry, baby," – and he actually did look sorry – "I just had to make sure of something, but it's all over now. You passed with flying colors."
That was good to hear, kind of. "Am I going to have to do that again?"
The guilty look on Frank's face told him enough. Eventually, his creator put on a smile that seemed too happy. "Don't worry about it."
At least now, he was eating something that didn't make him feel like crud. The chicken dinner was delicious, already helping him forget how all that sugar tasted (Frank had called him a regular carnivore after one of their first dinners together).
He didn't want to look at her. He knew he shouldn't (she wouldn't like it, and neither would Frank), but there she was, seated across from him at the table for the first time in a week. She kept her attention on her food – and Frank when he said something, regardless if he was actually talking to her – and she was quiet. How was she holding up after earlier today? He could hope for the best and try asking her.
Wasn't spying on her today enough?
Okay, maybe not.
Dinner was over before he knew it. Frank went on and on about the tests today, and whatever he had been doing while Columbia was out. (Once again, he couldn't believe his luck that no one noticed that he had gone out too.) He'd quickly learned to just tune out Frank's voice and listen for when he pushed his chair back, like he was doing right now.
"Who's up for a little Steve Reeves Hercules tonight?" He asked, holding his hand out expectantly. Rocky took the hand as he stood himself. His creator then faced the only person still sitting. "You coming, Columbia?"
This made his head turn. As far as he could recall, this was the first time since his creation that Frank had asked her to join them for… well, anything.
Maybe now wasn't the best time to ask, though. She didn't look as upset as before, but she looked more like she wanted to be by herself. "Not right now, Frank."
He cringed inwardly; even he knew that wasn't what Frank wanted to hear. True enough, his creator pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow. "You won't sit here all night, will you?"
"No, I…" She trailed off, trying to avoid looking at Frank's face. The room was quiet, except for Riff Raff and Magenta wheeling in a cart to collect the dishes. Finally, she cleared her throat and looked at him again. "I'll be there in a little while. I've just got something on my mind."
Whatever mood Frank was in must have passed, as he shrugged as if nothing had happened. "Well, just don't be too long." His creator then turned back to him, smiling eagerly. "You're going to love this! It's one of my favorites!"
As Frank led him away, he quickly glanced behind him. She was still at the table, her head in her hands.
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Thanks for reading! See you next chapter!
Originally, my idea for this chapter was going to be a spin on the dinner scene from the movie, but it didn't really work out. I still have the idea, though. I'll save it for another chapter (or maybe even another story).
Probably should have asked this sooner, but…how am I doing?