This Place is a Prison
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Will & Grace. NBC and its many affiliates own them. I also do not own the lyrics to "This Place is a Prison." The lyrics are copyright 2003 to the Postal Service as well as Sup Pop Records and can be found on their CD, "Give Up." Please don't sue.
Setting: Season 4, after Stan gets put into prison
Summary: I was listening to this song and it made me think of Karen, so I just kind of went from there.
This place is a prison
And these people aren't your friends
Inhaling thrills through $20 bills
And the tumblers are drained and then flooded again
And again
Karen Walker was perched on the barstool like the pristine society woman she was. Her coveted Chanel sling backs adorned her feet and her toned, curvy body was encased in a black Versace dress. Exquisite, flawless pearls showcased her neck and a vibrant silk scarf attached to her handbag added a splash of color to her outfit. She sat with her legs crossed and her back arched. Her hair was piled atop her head in a somewhat ceremonial fashion. Her trademark martini was in front of her in a crystal glass with two speared olives leaning casually against the side.
The perfectly composed scene Karen was currently putting on was the most sardonically ironic thing she'd ever experienced. The well put-together woman Karen was forcing herself to play in her one-woman show was such a striking contrast from what she was actually feeling that she couldn't even bring herself to sip her martini.
Because inside, Karen wasn't composed. She wasn't insouciantly unaware of the world around her. Inside, she was screaming. She was in agony, in such a pain as she had never experienced before. She was yelling at the top of her lungs and her companions, the other patrons of the bar, were too wrapped up in themselves and their Hermes shawls to notice her.
Her husband was in prison. The rock of her life, the steady foundation of her unsteady existence, was gone. She didn't know when he was coming back and everyone refused to tell her. Will assured her that it wouldn't be long, but she had a sneaking suspicion that he was simply trying to cushion the shock of her husband being carted away.
She wished she hadn't seen him being taken away. The magnanimous shock wave that had coursed through her body had left her unable to do anything but stare at her husband, wide-eyed and hurt. She vaguely recalled Stan's apologies and promises that he'd be out soon and to remember, just remember that he loves her. But instead of replying in kind, she'd just held onto Rosario's arm for dear life and watched as the FBI agents, the man and the mannish woman, took away the love of her life.
The only one who seemed to understand how painful the following days were was Rosario. She never asked if Karen was ok and she never offered any sympathy or pity, but Rosario made her presence known and checked on Karen more often than usual. As the Walker's attorney, Will was too preoccupied with legal proceedings and dealing with the press to think about Karen. At first, Karen had thought that Grace was worried about her, and for her friend's credit, Karen really did think that Grace was concerned. But soon, the luxurious life that the manse offered swept Grace away and Karen couldn't take it, so she kicked Grace out. Her poodle offered his own special sympathy, but as caught up in his new son's life as he was, Jack's attention span was even shorter, if at all possible.
Usually, when Karen found that her friends were too busy or otherwise apathetic toward her, she turned to Stan. But that was out of the question now. When she went to visit him, her voice got caught in her throat and she couldn't say much. Once, she'd confessed that she missed him, but the look on his face was too much and as her hazel eyes glistened with tears, she jumped up and hurried out of the visiting room.
As much as she missed her husband, Karen couldn't help but feel resentment toward him. Why hadn't he told her what was going on with his finances? She wouldn't have judged him and she certainly wouldn't have told anyone. Had she known what the situation had been like, perhaps she wouldn't have been so surprised when Stan was taken to prison. If she had known what was going on, she could have prepared herself to deal with such a fiasco. She could have helped him and moreover, she could have put together a defense to ensure that her husband wouldn't be in jail for too long.
But there wasn't much she could do now. All she could do was smile for everyone around her and maintain her cool exterior while her insides bubbled with hurt and pain and rage and loneliness.
It would have been easier, albeit slightly, if she were able to deal with this at home, but she had to put on a brave face for the kids, too. If Karen had been shocked by Stan being taken away, Olivia and Mason were floored. Mason had taken it quietly, nodding and absorbing everything, similar to how Stan would react to bad news. But Olivia seemed to be more outgoing and began ranting and raving, screaming and crying, demanding to know where her father was. Karen hadn't known what to do; she couldn't even deal with her own emotions, how was she supposed to help Olivia deal with hers? In the end, Karen had just hugged Olivia loosely until the child threw her arms around her and squeezed her tight, sobbing hysterically. Mason had shuffled over awkwardly until Karen gestured that he, too, could join in on the Walker family hug.
Karen smiled slightly at the thought of it. She did seem to be getting closer to the stepkiddies throughout the whole ordeal, but without Stan there it all seemed fruitless.
She stirred her glass with the olives before plucking them out of the martini and eating one of them. She then picked up her martini glass and sipped it elegantly, looking ever so sophisticated. Sometimes Karen believed in her own persona; she felt like she was stuck inside the oil painting Stan had insisted she had done and hung on their bedroom wall: she, the regal socialite, poised above everyone else as they walked by and admired her. It was fun, but without Stan, none of it felt real.
In this bar, emotions were outlawed and replaced with expensive drinks and small appetizers. No one had to know your name as long as they recognized the designers you wore. No one looked if you sat and drank alone; they didn't like themselves, so how could they expect anyone else to?
Late at night, Karen and Stan used to lie in bed and laugh at the ridiculous society they lived in. But Karen didn't have anyone to laugh with anymore. Her husband was in prison and in a sense, so was she. But until Stan got out, Karen was serving a life sentence.
I know there's a big world out there like the one I saw on the screen
In my living room late last night
It was almost too bright to see
And I know that it's not a party if it happens every night
Pretending there's glamour and candelabra
When you're drinking by candlelight