February 22nd, 1983
9.34 PM
The hall that Children of the American Revolution had set up for the yearly Founding Ball was filled to the brim. To the sound of a string quartet playing Death and the Maiden the social elite of Hartford sipped champagne and exchanged pleasantries and per as usual, the hall was impeccably dressed; crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over round tables adorned with silver garlands, shimmering snowflakes, and bouquets of white roses. Waitstaff glided effortlessly through the crowd, offering the guests hors d'oeuvres and flutes of sparkling champagne from their trays. The windows framing the grand ballroom offered a view of the frost bitten courtyard outside, ground glittering in the dark February night. It was pitch black, though no snow could be seen yet.
In a corner behind the stairwell, Chris leaned casually against the wall, his tuxedo jacket undone and his bowtie loosened. Next to him stood the Oakely brothers – tonight, Charles was accompanied by his older brother George Oakely III, known as Trip. And next to Trip, stood Lorelai. She was looking utterly bored.
"Guys. You know what this is? It's boring. No, sorry, let me rephrase that: it's amazingly boring." She made a sound as if she was snoring. "Please wake me up in time for dessert, will you?"
Trip shrugged and took a sip from his glass.
"Yeah, well. What did you expect? It's always the same crowd, same music, same speeches about family legacies and tradition." He sighed and Charlie's eyes squinted as he sniffed Trip's breath.
"Is that champagne? How did you get it? I tried to grab a flute but the waiter snagged it back from me!" Charlie reached out for Trip's glass, but he pulled it away from his little brother.
"No, now, you wait until you can grow a proper beard," Trip said, taking another sip.
"You're still just eighteen, you phony. You might as well give it to me."
Chris watched Lorelai. She had shifted into physically stating her boredom, sprawling her limbs all over the stairwell's trapping. Her head seemed to have disconnected from the neck, it was just hanging there and her hair swayed in front of her face. His gaze traveled over her bare neck, arm, back. That dress… It was so, so pretty. Offered a very generous view of her body. Since the first time he's seen her wearing it, he had pictured her in it once in a while, in his bed, in the shower, once by a lake. Uh, damn blue satin. His ears were probably a little red by now.
He leaned over and pushed her bangs away, breathing in her ear:
"Hey, curtains. What if we try to spice things up a little?" She looked up. Her eyes sparked.
"Anything to knock this party up a few scoville."
"I have an idea." Trip turned his head.
"I'm all ears, Hayden."
Chris shook his shoulders, pushed away a stray lock from his forehead.
"Don't you think it would be a fire starter if someone came bursting in through the front door dressed in something unexpected?"
"I didn't see you unpacking a clown suit?" Lorelai smiled at him. Stop beaming like that.
"I haven't exactly figured out the details yet, but I promise it'll be unexpected," he said.
"Naked. Naked is unexpected."
Oh. Well. That request was definitely unexpected.
"We'll see what we can do."
***
On the other end of the room, Francine and Emily were sitting together having a drink, watching their children socialize with their friends. They couldn't hear exactly what was being said, but they saw Christopher and Lorelai chatting and laughing, occasionally touching each other's arms, exchanging glances.
"You really should have your son close that jacket of his," Emily said. "He looks like a gigolo." Francine let the remark slide.
"Straub and I have noticed that Christopher seems to be spending quite a lot of time with Lorelai lately," she said, shifting their conversation to another subject. Christopher untied his bowtie and leaned in over Lorelai, wrapped it around her waist and playfully pulled her close.
Emily looked at her.
"Well, now that you mention it, they have gone to the movies every last weekend and I do see him visiting our house more frequently. I guess it looks like they're growing closer." Emily paused. "Lorelai has never had the same enthusiasm for any other boy. She's always been so particular."
"And Christopher seems genuinely fond of Lorelai. He's usually quite aloof around girls."
They fell silent for a while. Then Emily spoke again:
"It's very nice that they enjoy each other's company but they are far too young for a relationship of more serious nature. And Lorelai is a little trickster. She wouldn't hesitate to lead Christopher into being intimate with her just because I wouldn't approve of it."
"Please, Emily, Christopher is hardly a saint. And unfortunately, their wild ways seem to be part of what draws them to each other."
"I guess I should be happy as long as Lorelai doesn't run off with the paperboy," Emily said, giving her head a little shake. "I suppose we'll just have to wait and see where this leads." She paused. But collected herself, then turned to Francine and raised her glass:
"To Christopher and Lorelai, whatever they may become."
"To Christopher and Lorelai," Francine echoed, clinking her glass against Emily's.
***
"It's time. I wanna make my great re-entrance right when everyone has gotten seated." Chris checked his watch and glanced over at the front door.
"I'm so looking forward to my parents' reaction," Lorelai said. "And, oh, Chris, maybe you could try and give Mrs. Black a heart attack? Just a small one? She was so rude to me before, for no reason at all, I just wanted to borrow her stupid little tiara for a while."
She smiled at him. His heart fluttered.
"Your wish is my command, my lady."
He saluted her, and Trip patted him on the back.
"Go big or go home, Hayden." He raised his champagne flute. "Here's to the craziest stunt of the night."
Lorelai and the Oakely brothers watched Chris' back making its way through the crowd towards the kitchen regions. Trip turned to Lorelai.
"You think he'll actually do it?"
"I think he's definitely crazy enough to try."
"Let's just hope that he, after Mr. Hayden gets to him, makes it back home in one piece," Charlie said, slowly.
***
Chris glanced around the small corridor outside the kitchen to ensure no one was watching. Okay, what possibilities lie here… He spotted a little storage room and quickly ducked into it, stripping off his gloves, jacket, shirt, cummerbund, pants, socks, shoes and god knows what and stuffing it securely under some table linens. Well, well, here we were. He took a look in a little mirror on the wall, turned around. Not bad. He had even gotten some chest hair, no one else in his grade was even close to that. He patted himself on the chest. Yeah, that was a little something for the ladies. But where was the cherry on top? You'd want to create something memorable, paint a picture for people to remember. He picked up his undone bowtie from the floor and tied it around his neck again. Perfect.
He made his way to the kitchen exit without running into a single person, and slowly slid the door open. The courtyard was still and eerily quiet, illuminated only by dim lights that cast long shadows over the naked, frozen ground. He turned his head upwards and the sky was black, no stars were visible and the night air was crisp and biting. He immediately felt the hair on his body rising.
When he stepped out the frozen dirt hurt his bare feet. The door clicked shut behind him and… maybe this wasn't such a great idea after all. One could bet all the old money in Connecticut on that Straub would not be thrilled by this. The potential consequences of this little party trick were most likely severe. Chris shivered a little. But what the hell. If it was one thing that old, mean man didn't deserve, it was a well-behaved son. If the Hayden name could somehow be dragged in the social dirt, he would sure be pulling the rope. And then, come, whatever may. Not to mention that Charlie and Trip would never let him forget his failed scoville attempt. Chris took a deep breath and went around the corner to the main entrance, rubbing his hands together, trying to prepare for this grand, um, whatever it would be. Okay. Three, two, one, here we go. He reached for the door handle, and… it was locked.
He was actually a little relieved. It wasn't his fault that the entrance doors were locked and now he could just go back inside again and tell the others he tried. Good. Especially since it was getting seriously cold now. He ran to the kitchen door again and tried to open it, but it was locked. Uh, shit, no. Come on. He twisted the handle, but it wouldn't budge.
"Hey! Anybody there?" He pounded on the metal door, but no one came to open it. He glanced through a frosted window and saw the kitchen staff moving busily. You didn't have to be Einstein to realize that the noise inside the kitchen drowned out every sound from the outside. After a few minutes, snow began to fall.
***
"I'm so sorry, Mr. Hayden, I really wish I could help you, but I know nothing of where Christopher might be."
Lorelai sat at the Hayden-Gilmore table trying her very best not to give in to Straub's inquiries about Christopher's whereabouts. Even though she was leaning her stupid little lady head in her weak little lady hand and batting her pretty little lady eyelashes at him it didn't feel like he believed her innocence and honestly, who could blame him. Guilt by association was a phrase invented with her and Chris in mind. It was highly unlikely that Chris just all of a sudden had vaporized and Lorelai had no idea whatsoever where he was.
But, oh, what was that? Was it what it looked like it was? Yes it was – it was Chris, but not only Chris, it was Chris, naked. Outside, naked. He pressed his face against the window and his eyes were wide open, he was staring like a crazy person, oh, it looked cold out there. Well, judging from this sight, this night did have potential to be memorable, one way or another.
"Excuse me, I have to go to the ladies room," Lorelai said, rising from her chair.
"Sit!" Emily grabbed the back of her dress.
"Woof! Woof!" Lorelai fell back onto the chair, hung her tongue out of her mouth and panted. Emily did not blink.
"You will not be excused until Christopher is back again," she said. "I don't care if you wet your pants, you will be seated on this very chair until his whereabouts are known to all of us. I know you two are up to something."
***
Well, there went my last hope. Chris' heart dropped when he saw Lorelai being pulled back down on her chair by her mother. It was so damn cold he could barely feel his toes and fingers anymore and he was sort of running out of options. The last resort would be to turn into an ice sculpture but that wouldn't happen voluntarily. But, come on. It wasn't possible that there wasn't another way into this stupid building, there had to be a staff entrance or something that he just hadn't found yet.
He went around a corner a third time and squinted through the swirling snowflakes and there it was: a small window that looked slightly ajar on the opposite side of the courtyard. The window was placed a good two meters above the ground, but it was worth a shot. He sprinted, slipping and stumbling in the snow, and with a little help of a nearby drain pipe he managed to hoist himself onto the ledge. Oh, shit. This window led straight into the ballroom. If he entered through here, he'd land next to the orchestra. That was not exactly the original plan, but what the hell — go big or go home. This sure was big.
Chris managed to squeeze himself through the narrow opening and crouched awkwardly on the inside ledge. He sat down on it, dangling his long legs. Woha, this was not a steady position. He tried to keep his balance, shifting a little and felt something hard under his feet. What could that possibly be… Uh-oh. There was a tray wagon down there. Before he could steady himself, he heard the crash of glass and metal as the tray tumbled to the floor, scattering hors d'oeuvres across the polished tiles. He scrambled to maintain his balance but lost it, and ended up landing awkwardly next to the appetizers on the floor with a thud.
The room fell silent as guests stared in shock at the snow-covered teenager in nothing but a bowtie. Grabbing a microphone with a grin, Chris declared:
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the winter wonderland!" Then, he staggered out of the spotlight and collapsed in front of the stage.
"Oh dear lord," Francine said. "Dear Lord."
"Well, I suppose one prefers an undone jacket over no jacket," Emily said, taking a sip from her glass.
"Look away, darling," Straub said, handing Francine a napkin. "Here, cover your eyes."
***
After the chaos of his entrance settled down, Lorelai ducked Richard and Emily and slipped away from her table, sneaking out to the kitchen regions. Through the closed kitchen door she could hear a few "what on Earth were you thinking, young man?" and "just look at you! Have you lost your mind?" paired with some "you're a disgrace to the family!" and "you'll never leave the house again!" Lorelai stood hidden behind a little cupboard until she was sure Straub and Francine had left. When she opened the door to the kitchen she saw Chris propped up on a bar stool by the sink. He was wrapped in blankets, still shivering, holding a cup of hot cocoa. Lorelai smiled at him.
"You're an idiot, you know that?" Chris tilted his head.
"An idiot? Really? That's a bit unfair for making your night less dull." Lorelai rolled her eyes.
"You could've caught pneumonia out there."
"Well, then you could have brought me hot soup in bed." He wiggled his eyebrows. She shook her head.
"Fat chance, Hayden."
"Aw, come on, I'd make a great patient."
"You'd be the worst! Whining all the time, demanding constant attention…"
He grinned and took her hand, holding it against his cheek.
"You know me too well."
Lorelai smiled. Chris smiled back. Thinking about eye color was stupid and dumb but he had stupidly beautiful eyes, they were not just blue, more like a mix of emerald and sky. Chris opened his blankets – oh, he wanted her that close, did he? – and let her in, pulled her to his bare chest, and she stood there, feeling his heartbeat. Her own pulse immediately sped up – despite how she used to brag in school she had never been this close to a naked boy before. He was warm and soft, smelled like hot chocolate. She nuzzled her nose into his neck.
"Hey, that tickles!" He grabbed her chin and had her look him in the eyes instead. Stupid, pretty eyes.
"You know what? My parents just told me they're going to send me away to my grandparents for eight weeks. You know, as a punishment for tonight. Just until I got back in line, they said." He sighed a little.
"What? You're going to New Haven? For eight weeks?"
"I guess I should be happy that they didn't say 'military school' and 'eight years'."
"But what about school, you're coming to school, right?"
"Nope. Grandpa apparently offered to teach me at home."
"Eight weeks, huh?" Lorelai said. "I'll miss you."
"Yeah, well, just don't find another idiot while I'm gone."
"I won't even look for the keys to the asylum."
"I'll write to you every day," he said.
"You better."
"And I expect care packages, love notes, and heartfelt sonnets."
"You think pretty highly of yourself, don't you?"
Chris grinned.
"Well, someone has to."