Disclaimer: I don't own The Rocky Horror Picture Show

A/N: Is the really so bad that people can't review? I suppose it's been a bit boring. Or has it become too out of character? Hopefully this chapter is good enough.

After he'd taken back the really expensive diamond ring that he'd bought for his ex-fiancée, Brad stomped his way back to his room and then collapsed onto the bed. He still held the ring tightly in his hand. So tightly, in fact, that it dug into the palm of his hand. He winced in pain. This wasn't how his life was meant to go. Everything had been ruined by that freakin' deviant Frank. Who did he think he was, destroying everyone's life? It was a bit like a Roman emperor Brad had studied in school. Gains Caligula, he was called.

Suddenly Brad heard somebody knocking on the door. This angered him.

"JANET, IF THAT'S-" he began to shout.

"It's me!" squeaked a voice.

Ah. The kind pink-haired girl he couldn't ever remember the name of. She was the sweetest little thing he'd ever met. Even sweeter than

"Come in," he called.

She did so- though rather nervously. To his surprise, she didn't seem too pleased to see him.

"Er, I was talking to Janet-" she began.

"Don't mention that… that… that slut to me," he muttered darkly.

The pink-haired girl frowned. "Please don't call her that. Even if you think it's true, you shouldn't say it aloud."

"Fine."

"Look, I see that you two have gotten in a fight and broken up. I'd like to be some sort of person you both separately talk to... if that's okay. Eddie and I probably would've gotten married one day if Frank hadn't made everything go wrong between us and the third worst breakup of my life happened to be with this girl named Mina. So I probably can relate to both you and Janet on some level."

"Wait… you've dated a g-"

She gave him a Look, and he stopped talking. This place was weird and he needed to get used to it. Perhaps he would, if they were trapped any longer.

"What's your name, again?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

"Columbia," she replied, faking a smile.

Though nobody really behaved very nicely toward her, she made an effort to be kind to everyone. And, though Brad acted like a bit of bastard sometimes, he never hurt people the way other guys she'd met did. He didn't hit people or really mean what he said. Not to mention the fact that he was a lot saner than most guys or girls she'd taken a liking to. Poor Columbia had a talent for falling in love with the cruelest egotistical rocker-guys and the bitchiest straight girls in town. At least she'd had crushes on nicer cats. Like Magenta, who's mysterious ways made her attractive. Not to mention her pale, soft skin and elegant skill when it came (no pun intended) to fucking.

"Columbia…" Brad muttered. "Is that really your name?"

She giggled. "Well, my name's actually Laura Trent. But most people call me 'Columbia'. It's a nickname I started using when I left home at 15. I thought that Laura wasn't 'cool' enough."

"Can I call you 'Laura'?" Brad asked.

Again, she giggled. "Sure, kiddo."

It was at this point in time that they began to 'like' each other. This was an innocent sort of 'like' that Columbia hadn't felt since the 6th grade. The lovely, innocent feeling sure was swell. Columbia wanted a normal life as 'Laura Trent' while Brad wanted a wife who liked such a role. How the two of them fit! They were the least likely of soulmates, but soulmates all the same. Or so thought Columbia.

Janet stood there leaning against the wall for what seemed like hours. As she stood there she thought far too much about her 'ex-engagement' to Brad. She also smoked too many cigarettes and even tried the 'other stuff'. It made her brains feel like cotton and the colors around her seem a bit 'off' (more extreme, perhaps?). So she stopped smoking that and went back to cigarettes. She was distracted from this adventure into addictland when, quite suddenly, Rocky walked up to her.

"Janet? You said you'd teach me... stuff?" he said.

"I did say I'd teach you," she replied with a sigh. "But isn't Magenta supposed to teach you how to cook now?"

Rocky shook his head. "Magenta said she needed to cook breakfast now. She made me leave the kitchen so she could get it all right."

"Oh."

"To the library?" he suggested, almost too eagerly.

"Yeah."

It surprised Janet that Rocky now talked like a nearly normal adult- not in butchered half sentences or grunts. Maybe he aged really quickly because of some weird sciencey thing? Indeed he did, though she didn't know it. Riff- the real brains of the project- had done something to make Rocky's mind 'age' one year every two hours for the first 48 hours of his life.

He'd spoken in grunts for much longer than he'd needed to, since it gave people the impression that he was stupider than he really was. That kept them from worrying about him causing trouble.

Though he still needed to learn to read.

Janet would help.

When they got to the library, Janet was quite surprised by all the books. Frank didn't seem like the sort of person who liked books yet this was part of his castle. She decided not to think about why the library was here and get on with the lesson.

"How am I supposed to teach you to read? I mean… do I explain what letters sound like and then hand you a book?" she asked suddenly.

He shrugged. "I'm not sure."

With a sigh, she grabbed a random book off a shelf: a collection of short stories by Edgar Allan Poe.

"So, the first thing you'll read is The Cask of Amontillado," Janet told him.

"What's that?" he asked.

"A short story about this strange man who murders this other man. It's weird," Janet explained.

"So... how will you teach me to read with that?" Rocky asked.

"I'll just sound out all the words," Janet replied, wincing at how silly that sounded.

That probably wouldn't work, she knew. But she still attempted to teach him to read via this ridiculous method.

"'The thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as I best could, but when he ventured upon insult, I vowed revenge'," Janet read, pointing to each word as she said it.

"What injures did Fortunato caused?" Rocky asked.

"I'm not sure. It's only a story, you know," Janet replied with a nervous laugh.

And then she continued to read the story at a painfully slow pace. Occasionally she stopped and explained a concept. By then end, Rocky Horror knew quite a bit about the Italian festival of 'carnival'. Henow knew that jesters wear motley and Amontillado is a type of sherry. And all about reverse psychology.

But not very much about reading. Though Rocky Horror at least knew enough words to sort of read another story in the same book after Janet got annoyed at his questions and stormed away.

He spent the rest of the day reading in the library. That meant he missed breakfast and lunch, though that was a good thing. Frank would be less likely to find him.

Maybe he'd somehow inherited Eddie's memories of reading. Yes, that would explain it.

By lunch time he'd read most of the stories in the book of stuff that Poe guy had written. Then he'd found a book by Mary Shelley. The main characters were far too familiar.

Of course, this Victor Frankenstein guy was relatively saner than Frank. And he'd created his creature out of scientific curiosity. But he'd treated his creature as something subhuman. He'd been disgusted by his own work. He shunned the creature. Though Frank hadn't shunned Rocky, he'd been just as awful. Rocky wasn't a person, according to Frank, he was a screw-toy.

The book bore much similarity Rocky's own life. It horrified him.

So he read the whole thing.

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