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

A/N: Sorry if it's getting boring. I'm trying write this as a 'realistic' diary. That's also why Columbia is a somewhat unreliable narrator at times.

Wednesday, March/?/1974

Dear Diary,

Today went well enough. For breakfast I had waffles, which is nicer than scrambled eggs.

Annoyingly, Magenta was out running errands for most of the morning.

So, instead of gossiping with her, I read more of that book I found on her bookshelf. It's not about that painter, as I originally believed. No, the main character seems to be some sort of blond-haired 'pretty boy'. I don't really like blond guys, though that's only because one of the least nice people I ever knew in the outside world happened to be blond. His name was 'Jonathan' and I had the misfortune of being in the same History class as him. That would've been in the first year of high school… I think.

Not that such things matter.

Funny, isn't it? I'll sometimes remember something from before the castle. Names, faces, places… random stuff. Yet when I try to remember I can't.

Best not to think about that.

I finally saw Eddie again, at lunchtime.

Frank, being the capricious person he is, apparently gave up on trying to teach Eddie to be like one of people of his royal court on Transsexual, Transylvania. The idea was rather silly in the first place.

Now Eddie is of the same 'status' as I. You see, the castle has its own hierarchy of sorts: Riff Raff and Magenta are the lowest (to their disdain); 'playthings' like me have a bit more authority (though not much); and Frank is in charge of everyone. Earlier, Eddie was basically as 'important' as the servants.

It's quite silly.

Anyway, I got to eat lunch with just him. Magenta was out shopping still at that point.

"So…" I said, as we sat there.

"Hmm?"

I tried to think of something to say. Finally, I thought of it. "Tell me about your family. You mentioned an uncle…?"

A dark look appeared on his face. "Yeah. That's all I've got left. Mam died a year ago."

Something told me it would be a bad idea to say any more on the subject. So we sat there in awkward silence for a while. Then, Eddie spoke up.

"Does your family know where you are?" he asked.

"They think I'm dead. I 'went missing' three years ago. If I hadn't become a groupie to this random band, I would be dead."

And that's where the highly uncomfortable conversation ended.

I didn't practice tap dancing today because Magenta got back from wherever she'd gone just at the wrong time. When I was on my way to the ballroom I ran into her in the hallway. She was carrying a bunch of shopping bags.

"So, where were you?" I asked.

"Shopping," she replied vaguely.

"Shopping for...?"

She shrugged. "Foodstuffs. And some other small things. I got some new stockings for you. Hopefully you won't keep tearing holes in them."

Then, she handed me one of the bags. There were the fishnet stockings I'd asked for a few days ago.

"Thanks, Mags!"

Her green eyes narrowed. "My name is Magenta. Don't call me 'Mags'."

"Can I call you 'Maggie'?"

"No."

"Can I call you 'sweetsy-heart'?"

"No! That's not funny, Columbia."

I chuckled. "Aw, lighten up!"

Then she gave me a Look that clearly said 'shut up or I'll feed you to the dogs'. So, I adopted an expression of melancholy. That made her a bit less annoyed.

I then followed Magenta to the kitchen. There she began to put various groceries away.

"So... what did you do today?" she asked.

"What I usually do. I was planning to do my daily tap dance rehearsal right now, actually."

"Hmm."

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Mags spoke again.

"What do you want for dinner? Since you're here, I might as well ask."

"Er, what are the options?" I asked.

She held up two pages from the Recipe Binder (that's basically just a bunch of pages violently torn out of various cookbooks then stuffed into a binder). Unfortunately, I couldn't read the small print from where I stood.

"The choices are 'pasta with fancy tomato sauce' or 'chicken with fancy sauce and pasta'," she explained.

"Er... the second one. Why do they all involve pasta?"

"I bought lots of pasta today, since it lasts very well. It's clever that they put it in boxes and it only takes boiling water to cook it! One of the few Earth inventions I'll admit is useful."

I giggled. "You're really starting to become an earthling, Magenta."

She scowled.

Soon enough, it was actually time for dinner.

We all ate in the dining room. Ever since Eddie showed up we've been doing that. Though Mags and Riff don't sit with us at the table when actual guests are over, they often do when they aren't.

And so, all four of us suffered through one of Frank's awful monologues. I'm pretty sure he's just telling as about his day. It's all rather silly. I zoned out after only a few minutes.

But I suddenly began to pay attention again when I heard my name.

"Columbia, I'd like to see you after dinner," Frank said, winking at me.

For some reason, when he says some of the stuff he says it seems to make sense. When he's actually speaking you can t help but go along with it. Then, once you are away from him, you can't believe how gullible you were. It's as if his voice has some sort of power over me. And Eddie, I think. Must be something that only affects earthlings.

Indeed, I went to his room right after dinner. I won't write what happened then, since its quite obvious.

A little while later I went to the room I share with Mags. When I got there, she was sitting on her bed reading a book.

"What are you reading?" I asked her.

"The Picture of Dorian Gray. It's about a young man-"

"-whose friend paints a really great picture of him. After he wishes for eternal youth the picture begins to age while he doesn't. I read it ages ago."

She raised an eyebrow. "You read it 'ages ago'? Then why was it the only book taken from my bookshelf in quite a while? Why was it on your bed?"

Eyes widened in horror, I stared at her for a moment. "I was reading it earlier today… I think. God, I'm officially going crazy at this point."

I collapsed onto by bed and stared aimlessly at the ceiling's chipped plaster.

(That reminds me, I plan to put posters their some time soon!)

"You should probably go to bed now, Columbia. I'm pretty sure you haven't been getting enough sleep lately," my roommate said thoughtfully.

And that's when I wrote this. Magenta's right, I really need to sleep.

- Columbia (a groupie)

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