Janet

Janet looked up into the night sky at the smiling, winking neon woman outside the hotel. Even that monstrosity seemed to be mocking her. She couldn’t recall exactly how she got here, everything after Mallory’s confession was pretty hazy. She barely remembered that she’d come in second place, and still sat atop the leaderboards. Somehow. After focusing, she sort of remembered the others trying to talk to her as she sprinted out the door once she’d had the ability. Not a word of it registered. Janet couldn’t even recall who’d been speaking, let alone what they’d been saying. Trying to calm her down? Telling her to pop Mallory in the mouth? Who knew?

Janet noticed her palms were hurting, she only then noticed she’d been digging her nails into them. God knows for how long, her hands had deep red divots and she hissed through her teeth in pain when the blood rushed back.

“I was wondering when you were coming back to Earth.” Al said. Janet whipped her head around. She hadn’t been aware of his approach, not that she ever heard him. But she usually smelled his foul smoke first, and even that had failed her. He smiled at her reaction, “I’ve been watchin’ for a while now.”

“You’ve just been standing there, watching?”

“You’ve had a pretty busy night,” he said. “I figured I’d wait, I got nothin’ but time for one of my girls.”

“I’m not one of your girls.” Janet growled, surprising even herself with the seething anger in her voice. Al held up his hands in an ‘I surrender’ pose.

“‘Till we hand you off to Michael, I’d say you are. But that’s just semantics.” Al lowered his hands and shoved them in his pockets. He softened his usual look of irascible smugness into what a gullible person might have taken to be sympathetic. He didn’t say anything for a long while, and again, a gullible person might have assumed he was searching for something comforting. But Janet's long history of taking people at face value had come to a bitter end tonight.

“Why are you here?” She demanded.

“To bring you back for the transformation vote,” Al said. “Still a game to be played after all.”

“Fuck it.” Janet said, waving her hand at him and turning her back. “Do whatever it is you freaks do when people quit, I’m done. I don’t want to see those people again.”

“That’s not really an option.” Al said, again putting on his meager attempt at sounding sympathetic.

“You fucking did it to Ronnie! Do it to me!” Janet hissed.

“She-”

“Do. It. To. Me.” Janet demanded. “Just… wipe my brain and let me deal cards forever. It’s better than the job I left and then I can be done with the Clarks forever.”

Al walked up next to Janet, but she didn’t cringe away immediately as she would have. He waited again until the heat of the moment died so he could get a word in.

“Rhonda was a special case,” Al said softly. “That’s not something we just dole out to anyone who’s pissed at their harem sister.”

“Do not call her that.”

“Ruby and the others can wait a little longer,” Al said. “Let me try something.”

“Fuck off.”

“Humor me. Please?” Al said, throwing up his hands in exasperation. Al reached into his sport coat and pulled out a Louisville Slugger that could not have possibly fit there naturally. He casually flipped the bat so he could catch the shaft and swung the handle around to offer it to Janet.

“You want me to bash her?” Janet said, with a little worry in her voice. But it was clear she at least considered the possibility.

“No, no, we’re not running that kind of show!” Al laughed. “Ruby and I are having a disagreement about who should clean up out here,” He gestured to the disembodied leg of the neon woman, which still sat on the sand next to the wreckage of Sarah’s Mustang.

“Can’t you just magic it up?”

“Magic ain’t free, kid. And besides, her fucking girl wrecked, she should clean it.” Al grumbled. “Still, long as it's sitting there, put it to use.” Al waved the bat handle in front of Janet enticingly until she grabbed it just to make him stop. “Try a little therapy smashing, I find it helpful.”

Janet swung the bat around tentatively, her mind immediately rattling off all the reasons not to. It wasn’t hers. It wasn’t respectful. It would make her grandmother ashamed.

Blah fuckin blah.

“Why the hell not?” Janet said, taking a running swing at the toe of the neon high heel. The light was disconnected, but the bulb made a gorgeous shattering sound when she drove her weight into the swing. Janet watched the small pieces float down, reflecting the light from the surviving bits of the sign like a small swarm of fireflies.

Again! Janet took another swing, smashed another bulb, enjoyed the catharsis of watching something ordered become chaotic. Again! Smash! Smash! Smash! Janet worked her way up the ‘leg’, driving the bat into the soft and destructible bits of sign. Metal deformed, glass broke, neon escaped, Janet’s hand continued to hurt. None of it mattered.

“That’s right!” Al yelled over the cacophony. “Bash that thing until you forget that fuckin’ guy!”

“GUY!?” Janet stopped and glared, her eyes flaring. “You think this is about TRENT?!” She stomped around the sign and Al put up his hand defensively and Janet froze.

“I’m not about to have my star player piss away her lead taking swings at me.” He said, but Janet was still fuming about his comment.

“This isn’t about fucking TRENT! That guy was a useless douchebag!” Janet screamed. Her psyche had finally been sandpapered down so far that it released the bubbling magma underneath. She turned back towards the leg and began hammering it again, her frustration turning to rage turning to destruction turning to fantastic TV.

“She has EVERYTHING! She always has!” Smash! Smash! “Always been so goddamned PRETTY! Even when she spends half her days stoned or drunk off her ass!” Smash! “Expensive clothes!” Smash! “Boys whenever she wanted!” Smash! “Never had to work a single day in her life!” Smash! Smash! Smash! “Every goddamn thing she ever wanted and she then she just takes Trent because she fucking can!? What kind of a psycho bitch does that?!”

“Your harem sister.” Al casually tossed more gasoline on the fire, as was his way.

“Don’t call her that!” Smash! Smash! Janet lost herself in the **** now, her screamed complaints degenerating into incoherent sentence fragments and grunts. She wailed on the sign until her muscles screamed with exertion, and with a final surge of rage, she spun and hammer-threw the bat as far as she could. She fell to her butt in the sand as it flew off into the darkness.

“Is this your idea of helping?” She asked, when the English language returned to her rage-addled mind.

“Aren’t you feeling any better?”

“No!”

Al shrugged. “I gave it a swing, building the girls up isn’t my usual thing. The whole ‘Host pretending to be a psychiatrist’ is on a different season.”

Janet jumped to her feet. “Another season! That’s it! Send me to another season!”

“...What?” Al looked legitimately taken aback.

“Just send me to another host, or whatever it is you do. Get someone else.” Janet felt a rush of hope. A way out?

“I can’t just trade you. You’re not a baseball card.” Al said.

“I was literally just traded tonight.” Janet reminded him, with crossed arms.

“Ok, you got me there.” Al said. “I’ll rephrase: I don’t want to trade you. You’re a winner with Michael and with the audience, I want you on my team.”

“Don’t even remind me of Michael right now.” Janet hissed. “I had that game won and he not only took that from me, he gave it to her.”

Al checked his watch quickly. “Ok, we do have to get back to the hotel now, but let me lay one last thing on you before we get there.” Janet walked past him, giving him a wide berth, but he kept his hands in his pockets as they walked. “You ever heard the expression ‘The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree’?”

“Yes.” Janet said coldly. “People used to say it about me.”

“Well it was bullshit in that case.” Al backtracked. “Like I said, I ain’t great at the pep talks. All I’m saying is maybe you’re focusing on the wrong one?”

“How so?”

“Where do you think Mallory learned how to act like that?” Al said.

“From her dad. Her real one.”

“He’s been gone, Janet.” Al said. “Danica’s the one that’s been raising her this whole time. You think she’d behave like this if Momma wasn’t on board, at least a little?”

Janet’s mind felt slightly cloudy. She was tired, she was frustrated, and she was confused, and all of them in just enough measure that this started to make some sense.

“Ok, maybe.”

“You ever heard the expression ‘Living well is the best ****’?”

“Of course, everyone has.”

“Well that’s bullshit too.” Al said, “**** is the best ****.” They had passed through the casino floor and reached the rear door to the pool area door, and Al bounded forward a step and blocked it for a moment. “You play how you want to play, it’s gotten you this far. You could win the whole damned thing, and then the whole gang of them would have nothing to say but ‘Yes, Mistress’ from then on.”

“I don’t want to be a Mistress, I just…” Janet paused. Is this what I really want? At the moment, with her whole world streaked in red, yes. Yes it was. “I just want her to feel how I do right now.”

Al nodded slowly. “What would burn her worse than seeing Momma eliminated?” Al let that hang in the air, then stepped aside and pulled the door open to allow her to pass.

Outside, a small stage was suspended over the widest part of the pool, slightly above the water. Narrow bridges stretched to it from all four corners, and the cast and Ruby awaited in the center. The lights from the water illuminated everyone above in an unearthly green glow. The pools themselves were packed with the staff, as usual, who were poured into their tiny swimsuits, as usual. But instead of frolicking as they usually were, they looked grim and gave Janet sympathetic glances this time. Apparently word had spread, and quickly. All it did was humiliate her further, and her cheeks flushed hot with anger.

Ruby gave Al a small headshake, apparently too fed up with his crap to even muster an insult right now. Regardless, he’d timed his entrance perfectly and she was **** to put on her host face as the cameras sprang to life.

“And our contestants are here and ready for the next round of Transformation Voting!” Ruby said. Al guided Janet to her seat, which was unfortunately right next to Mallory’s again. Mallory looked at her with pleading eyes, but kept silent. Janet refused to meet the gaze.

“But first,” Al said, assuming his own place in the production. “As we did last time, the girls will provide their own little spin on the changes - by creating their own!”

On Janet’s right, Mallory was practically whimpering to get her attention. She knows I have to write hers. She wants me to go easy. Janet thought. She was so consumed by not looking at Mallory that she didn’t even notice that Al had raised his hand to send them to their ‘writing retreat’. Janet suddenly felt the world go black, all her senses cut off simultaneously. She was weightless, and had just enough presence of mind to wonder if it was all over…

When suddenly she found herself in that room again. The small enclosed box where they’d dumped her until she played their game - **** her to participate in the corruption of her closest friends. Same simple desk. Same simple notebook. Danica had refused for hours. Janet thought. She wondered if she could just… do the same. Wait in here until dehydration claimed her. She was already feeling thirsty from her wild exertions outside the hotel. They’d have to send me somewhere else then, right?

But that thought again started Janet’s anger humming.

“That’s the old me talking. The world’s fucking doormat.” Janet didn’t even notice that she said it out loud, the oppressive silence fracturing the bounds of her inner monologue. “ Why should I suffer?”

Janet hopped off the bus a stop before the closest to the Clarks’ house and started walking the half-mile over. The closest stop was visible from their front door and, for no good reason, Janet was mortified that they’d see her as she got off. It wasn’t like it was a secret, obviously she took the bus and the Clarks all knew it. But, somehow walking up to the door let Janet pretend they didn’t. Let her pretend the Clarks would assume she was dropped off by her parents or something. This irrational worry persisted even today of all days, when Janet finally had an honest-to-God success to brag about.

She practically skipped up to their front door. Janet shifted her shoulder bag slightly. It was just a letter in there, but it felt like it was a gold bar. It was the closest she’d gotten to a gold bar, so the metaphor fit. I hope he’s impressed. She immediately chastised herself for the thoguht. Why would he be? I’m just his daughter’s friend. Janet thought. No mid-life crisis runs that deep.

Janet opened the door and let herself in without knocking. She’d had a standing invitation to their house for years.

“Mal? Danica? Michael?” Janet asked from the entryway. Loud voices were carrying from the back of the house, so Janet followed them.

“...cancel them right now, Mallory!”

“I can’t just return them like a pair of shoes, Mom!”

“That is a ridiculous waste of money!”

“But it’s my money!” Mallory scoffed. “I’m an adult now and I can make my own damned choices!”

“But these choices are ridiculous! I-” Danica stopped as she saw Janet approaching through the sliding glass rear door. Mallory was standing with her back to Janet and turned around as she approached, giving the redhead a broad and mischievous smile.

“Am I interrupting something?” Janet asked.

“Yes.” Danica said.

“No!” Mallory said simultaneously. The two glared daggers at each other.

“...the trust came through?” Janet asked, though she knew the answer. It was all Mallory had wanted to talk about for months now. The day her biodad’s money kicked through to her. Making plans what to do with it, never noting how Janet cringed slightly when she casually tossed out prices like they weren’t staggering to Janet and painful to even contemplate.

“Fuck yeah it did! Check it out!” Mallory grabbed a few sheets of paper off the table and shoved it under Janet’s nose. “I got us tickets to the Chainsmokers tour!”

“Like, the show at the Forum?”

“No, dummy! The tour. Tickets to all the shows, and the European leg!”

Janet looked, there were printed airline and concert tickets stretching for months into the future. Danica was rubbing her temples and muttering a stress mantra under her breath as she did so. It was obvious to Janet that no matter what Mallory thought, this brushfire was going to re-ignite any second.

“These start in a few days.” Janet said.

“I know! We gotta go shopping!”

The spark caught, and Danica’s anger blazed up. “Like hell! Mallory, you’re still in the middle of senior year!”

“So what, Mom? I told you, I’m an adult now.”

“I- I-” Danica returned to her stress mantra for a second, took a long breath, then pushed a smile to her face and turned to Janet. “Sorry. Mallory and I will have this conversation later. What brings you by?”

It took Janet a long second to even remember. Her good vibes had been sucked out of the room. Again.

“It’s nothing, really. I just got my letter.” Janet pulled open the bag and handed the small envelope to Danica. It was the thing she was the most proud of and suddenly she felt embarrassed of it, like she was ashamed. “I got into UCSB.” Janet’s voice was flat. “Only a partial ride though.”

“...What?” Danica said, not in a disappointed way, just in the manner of someone who had been fighting a forest fire being told that you’d won a bear from a crane game. “That’s- That’s great!” Danica was able to muster.

Janet smiled and Danica smiled, but… the moment just never really arrived the way Janet had hoped. ‘Congrats! Janet!’ and then she’d pull me into a hug or something, and finally someone would be proud of me. Janet got her hug, but it was distracted and perfunctory.

“Damn, got some hot boys up there.” Mallory said, who was already scrolling through the school’s hashtag on her phone. “We’re gonna have some fun, Jan!”

“We?” Danica demanded.

“I can’t let Janet go alone!” Mallory said, as if she was legitimately concerned. “I’ll have to keep an eye on her.”

“You just said you were ditching senior year to follow some stupid band.” Danica pushed away from the hug to whirl on Mallory. And the fight was back on.

“Well, yeah, that was when I thought Janet was coming with!” Mallory rolled her eyes. “Things change, Mom.”

“So you’re going to return the tickets?”

“They’re non-refundable.”

“That’s why I said this was a bad idea!” Danica yelled.

“Who cares!? I’ve got the money to burn!” Mallory’s volume increased in kind.

“...How are you going to get in?” Janet asked softly. “Applications closed months ago.” She can’t be serious about coming, right? Janet was nervous about setting out by herself. Santa Barbara wasn’t far at all, but it felt like a different continent. Having a friend there would be good. She tried to convince herself.

“Dad knows a guy there. Provost or something. Don’t even worry about it, I got you girl.” Mallory winked.

“Michael?”

“No. Dad.” Mallory emphasized, giving side eye to Danica as she said so. “Like Michael would ever know someone useful.”

“Could you please show him a little respect, Mallory?” Danica was almost pleading. Janet recognized this dynamic. Mallory knows it digs her to say that, which is why she says it. It’s the fastest way to hurt her.

“Yeah?! And call him what? Master?”

Janet slowly backed from the room as the two returned to their knock-down drag out, and neither of them seemed to notice her departure. Back to the curb, Janet pulled a crumpled $20 from her pocket. It was the extent of her dad’s congrats on the scholarship and it was better than she’d had from him in a good while. There was a franchised restaurant a block or so away, this should be enough for a celebratory entrée. Maybe even a dessert if happy hour was still going.

Congratulations, Janet Mohney.

Janet looked at the blank paper. Somehow, it felt like a veil had been lifted from her eyes. Her own delusions about the situation stripped away by, of all things, a goddamn sex magic game show.

“I’m gonna win this fucking thing.” She said. And she collected her pen and began writing Mallory’s transformation…