Holiday Special

Robert stumbled out of the studio office reeling and veered off the sidewalk behind the neatly manicured bushes that ran alongside the building. He threw out a hand to steady himself against the wall while the other clawed at his chest. He felt like he was going to be sick. He wished he would be. It might help.

As he tried to steady himself he could hear the women, “his” women, slink out of the door behind him. Gone was the heady nervous energy that had carried the troupe into its fateful confrontation with the show Host. The retreat wasn't a full panicked rout, but it might as well been. He couldn't bring himself to look at them. They were all fully dependent on him in the most perverse way imaginable.

Robert had never been one for casual sex. He was no shrinking virgin and he'd been in a serious romantic relationship before, but for him physical intimacy always went hand-in-hand with emotional intimacy. To him, sex was something greater, something more then just a crude interaction of body parts. It was trust. It was commitment. It was a seal on something that was far more then the sum of its parts. He'd only ever truly felt that connection with one other person.

And he had driven her away.

Now he had to be intimate with six women to save them from fates worse then ****? He tried to laugh at the gross absurdity of it all, but it turned into a dry gagging heave. He wished he'd just hurry, throw up, and get it over with.

“Robert...?”

He looked back over his shoulder and saw Chloe looking at him. She was wringing her hands, her fair skin was ashen, and her bright blue eyes were concerned. Concerned only for him. It made him feel even sicker.

“I'm ok,” he croaked out. He managed to straighten himself, his hand still against the wall, then turned around and staggered out from the bushes. He almost fled back into them when he found the five other women strung along the sidewalk, all staring at him. The need to say something, anything, was clawing at his stomach like a feral cat. They were all dependent on him. He needed to reassure them.

Like you reassured her? You couldn’t save her either...

“I-” but the rest died in his bile-filed throat. What could he say? What could he possibly say to them? I promise not to **** you into anything? Ava was providing all the **** necessary. We'll get through this together? He wasn't the one who's mind and body was at risk of being twisted beyond recognition. He searched their faces for...understanding, compassion? He wasn't sure what, but whatever it was he didn't deserve it.

Bailey was glaring daggers at him, her scowl only broken by the occasional grimace as she pressed her thighs together. Robin seemed determined to look anywhere but him, her brow furrowed. Samantha would only look when she thought he wasn't. Her hands kept involuntarily drifting up to her long elfin ears, before dropping back down like they'd burned her fingers.

It felt like Sarah was looking through him, like she was doing the math and not liking the final sums. Cassandra's face was an enigma. Her dark blue eyes bored into his, searching for something. Chloe continued to wring her hands and look worried, for him.

That was the worst one by far.

Sarah finally shook her head sadly. “Let's head back to the hotel,” she announced, her voice brittle as ice. “There's nothing else we can do here.”

She turned and set off down the street. The rest of the women filed in behind her, except for Cassandra and Chloe. Chloe's eyes darted back and forth between him and the departing party but Cassandra’s eyes remained fixed, probing.

“Should we-?” Chloe asked, weakly waving towards the others.

“You go on Chloe,” Cassandra replied. “It's my night with Robert, we might as well start now.”

“Are...are you sure you'll be ok? Both of you?”

Cassandra finally looked away from Robert and gave the petite blonde a sad attempt at a reassuring smile while gently squeezing her upper arm.

“We'll be fine. Go on.”

Hesitantly, Chloe hurried after the others, pausing now and then to look back over her shoulder at the two they'd left behind. She didn't stop looking until she rounded the corner and disappeared out of sight.

Cassandra turned her eyes back to Robert, two blue pools deep enough to drown in. She was currently wrapped in a tight emerald green dress that hugged her tightly and did nothing to conceal the womanly shape of her body underneath. Her long black hair hung in curled ringlets around her face and her lips glistened deliciously under deep red lipstick. She looked immaculate but Robert could see the way she held herself, the way she kept turning her body like she was trying to minimize how much of it was put on display at any one time.

This is your fault. Robert reminded himself. You wanted this for her...

Now alone with Cassandra, Robert nearly broke as the words poured out of him.

“Cassandra, I'm so sorry. I'll do whatever you need me to do. Just tell me what you're comfortable with and I'll-.”

Cassandra held up her hand stopping him. “No, Robert. Not like that. We aren't going to do this like that.”

“But-”

“No. I’ve been acting most of my life. If I don’t make it past this week I want it to be as myself.”

Robert opened his mouth to argue further until he met Cassandra’s eyes. There was a plea in those deep blue pools. A plea and peace and that’s when he understood. This was the only agency left to her. He couldn’t possibly deny her this. He took a long breath and tried his best to steady himself.

“Ok,” he said on the exhale. “Ok, what do you want to do then?”

Her lips drew into a thin bow, a nervous smile.

“Follow me.”

******

Cassandra led him down the street to the pair of massive soundstages. Parked on the street outside Soundstage Two was a small white trailer. A sign marked “Wardrobe” hung on the door.

“What’s this?” Robert asked as his escort came to a stop before the trailer.

“A change of clothes,” Cassandra replied cryptically. “You’re going to need it.”

Robert ascended the two flimsy metal steps into the trailer and found it had been set up as a changing room. A small metal rack held hangers of clothing, all conveniently in his size. He slowly leafed through them, confused at the offerings. Heavy winter coats, thick woolen sweaters, fleece lined pants. It was a warm faux-California day outside. Why would he need any of this?

Despite his confusion, Robert dutifully picked out a navy blue down jacket and white cable knit sweater. As he turned to leave the trailer he noticed a smaller rack of winter hats and gloves. He was already uncomfortably warm, but wishing to be prepared he grabbed a woolen hat, a scarf, and a pair of gloves and shoved them in the deep pockets of his jacket.

He emerged from the trailer into the warm sun feeling a little ridiculous, even more so when he saw Cassandra still in her tight green shoulderless dress. She looked him up and down before nodding approvingly.

Sweating under the layers of heavy clothing, Robert followed Cassandra through the soundstage door. His mouth dropped open in shock as he stepped through to the other side.

Instead of the empty soundstage he had expected, he found himself standing in a small town square full of people. Old multistory buildings with shops on the first floor ringed three sides of the square while a small park, complete with pond, occupied the fourth. A fair or festival of some kind was going on. Various craft and food vendors were set up in two rough lines down the street, and he could hear faint music coming from somewhere. The sun was low in a starkly clear sky and Robert gasped as a bitterly cold breeze hit his face. He suddenly found himself glad for the winter clothing and he pulled his scarf up to his chin.

“Where are we?” he asked.

“Bedford Falls, Minnesota.”

Robert turned to face Cassandra and his mouth fell open for a second time.

Cassandra's outfit had changed completely. In place of the thin dress she had been wearing, she was now warmly clad in a dark hunter green pea coat buttoned tightly against the wind. A deep purple scarf was neatly wrapped around her neck and a matching hat sat atop her head. The hat was pulled down over her ears and completely concealed her long black hair.

“It worked!” She exclaimed, running her now gloved hands along her coat. She finally looked up and caught Robert staring. He hurriedly looked away but it was too late. He wondered if she was blushing, or if the pink in her cheeks was from the cold.

“S-sorry, what worked?” Robert asked, **** to quickly turn the conversation to anything.

“I upgraded my transformation so I wouldn't be stuck in formal wear all the time, but it still doesn't let me pick what clothing I'm wearing. Instead it creates clothing to match whatever 'role' I'm playing. I picked someplace cold so I could have more covering clothes.”

Robert's stomach churned. He had advocated for that transformation. It seemed harmless enough at the time – what woman doesn't like looking her best? He hadn't expected Cassandra to hate it so.

But however she felt, Cassandra was all smiles now.

“Come on! Let me show you around.”

“You know this place?”

“Yeah! My grandparents lived here. We used to visit them every Thanksgiving.” Cassandra began to weave through the crowd with a purpose. Robert hurried to follow.

“Wait, so are we actually in Minnesota?” Robert asked, nearly bouncing off a passerby. Cassandra stopped, waiting for him to catch up.

“No, not really. This is just the soundstage simulating Bedford Falls.”

“How!?”

Cassandra shrugged.

“They weren't especially clear on how it works. 'Movie Magic' is all they'd tell me.”

Once Robert had caught up Cassandra set off again, but this time she stayed only a half step in front of him, allowing him to easily keep up. She lead him towards the pond until they came to the end of the pavement, which was marked with a crude wooden post and rail fence.

There beside the pond stood a tall, stately fir tree bedecked with ornaments. The limbs were heavy with shining silver and gold baubles and the base was surrounded with wire frame sculptures of presents outlined in lights. Atop the tree set a magnificent starburst, its outstretched arms catching the light from the fading afternoon sun. Robert noticed the tree hadn't been placed, it was growing there naturally.

“This is Bedford Fall's annual Christmas Tree lighting.” Cassandra stood there, her hands resting on the top rough rail of the fence looking reverently at the tree. “They always do it the first Saturday after Thanksgiving. We'd come see it with my Grandparents every year. Our little family tradition.”

There was a wistfulness to her words. A question hung on Robert's lips.

“When was the last time you were here?” He finally pushed through and asked.

“When I was twelve. We couldn't make it the next year because I had an audition for a TV show. That audition landed me Lily Living Loud. After that my filming schedule kept us from coming back. By the time the show ended six years later both of my grandparents were gone.”

Cassandra's blue eyes glistened in the cold air before she shook her head and smiled.

“Come on, let's go check out the festival!” She said a little too brightly.

She led him back towards the vendors. Two rows of small tents, trailers, and tables ran down the middle of the street, which had been closed to vehicular traffic. It was a hodgepodge of local artisans, food vendors, and church bake sales. The road ran up at a slight incline culminating at a small but proud brick town hall topped with a clock tower. The crowd was steady but not overwhelming; easy enough to make your way through as long as you were paying attention.

Cassandra was barely paying attention, but she still managed to weave her way through like a downhill skier. She bounced from one craftsperson to the next – not really shopping – just reveling in examining their wears. Here, she lifted a tin punched ornament to the light, delighted at the way the setting sun poured through the pattern of holes. There, she gently squeezed a knitted scarf, testing it's softness. It didn't seem to matter what type of goods were being sold, Cassandra would find something she wanted to show Robert.

He followed her, marveling that this was the same woman who just yesterday had been trapped cleaning a stain off the floor. She had been downcast and defeated then, but watching her now it was almost possible to forget Harem Hotel and just imagine she was showing him around her small hometown.

They had been exploring the festival long enough that the chill was beginning to creep into Robert's bones, even through the heavy layers he was wearing. He was grateful when Cassandra suddenly declared that they should “get something warm.” He wondered if she was getting cold as well or if she had noticed the small shivers he was trying to hide.

There was no weaving this time. Cassandra made a beeline for one of the church booths. There was a line, but she promised it was “totally worth it” and demanded that he let her order for both of them. They left the booth with a warm apple fritter and steaming cup of apple cider apiece. Robert followed her to the steps that ran up to town hall. He tried to take a seat on them, only to spring up quickly once he realized how cold the granite was through his pants. Cassandra laughed.

“I just came over her so we had a place to set our drinks down,” she said as she placed her cup on one of the waist high plinths that flanked the steps. “That and the view.”

They were about halfway up the front steps. From there, they had a perfect view back down the street they had just come up. The sun was almost gone now and the streetlights were beginning to flicker alive. They were old style lights, almond shaped bulbs dangling off tall, curling wrought iron posts. They were painted green and each one carried a wreath as green as the pole. The crowd as a whole seemed to be slowly drifting away from them down the street back towards the Christmas tree. There, they joined a small but growing congregation. Up the street drifted the sounds of a small brass band playing carols. Children laughed and screamed as they raced down the hill, their parent's trailing behind and half-heartedly calling after them.

“Should we head down for the tree lighting?” Robert asked.

“We have time to finish our fritters first,” Cassandra replied, checking the clock atop the town hall.

Robert tried to start with the cider but it was still scaldingly hot. Following Cassandra's lead he took a small bite of the apple fritter instead. The fried dough was surprisingly light and dusted with powdered sugar, while the sliced apples inside were still warm. Robert hadn't realized how hungry the walk and cold had made him until he took that first bite. He fought the urge to wolf down the rest of the pastry.

Robert turned his attention back to the apple cider. Blowing on it cooled the beverage enough to take small careful sips. It smelled intensely of cinnamon and was sweet but not overly so. After the first couple swallows he could feel the warmth from the drink flow through him, pushing out the chill. As he cradled the warm cup between his gloves he caught Cassandra staring at her own cider.

“Another tradition?” Robert asked. Cassandra turned and gave him a rueful smile.

“It was.” The corners of her mouth twitched slightly. “Granddad always joked we couldn’t tell anyone that we went to the Lutheran church booth instead of their own.”

Robert chuckled and raised his cup in a toast.

“I promise to keep the secret,” he swore with a grin. Cassandra’s smile became real and it was more warming than the drink.

Fortified against the cold, he followed Cassandra back down the hill. However instead of joining the growing throng at the base of the tree she cut into the park, following a small paved path that circled the pond.

“Where are we going?” Robert asked.

“Best seats in the house.” It was dark, but he could feel the grin Cassandra flashed at him.

The path through the park was unlit and Robert was thankful that it felt smooth under his feet. They stopped midway around the pond, looking back across the water towards the Christmas tree and town. The sound of carols continued to drift towards them and the growing buzz of anticipation from the crowd opposite was almost palpable. From here the tree was a black conical form backlit by the streetlights. Compared to the packed town square this side of the pond was sparsely populated. Maybe a dozen other people, most of them couples. Robert was suddenly intensely aware of Cassandra's proximity now that they were no longer surrounded by the crowd.

“Is there where you’d usually watch from?” he coughed.

“No, we’d always watch from the other side by the tree.” Cassandra answered wistfully, pointing back across the pond. “Granddad always said the view was great from over here but my mom never wanted to walk through the dark. Granddad promised me one day he’d bring me over here to watch.”

“You never got to, did you?” Robert asked.

Cassandra shook her head.

“Your grandparents sound like they were wonderful people.”

“They were. They were the only ones that would let me just be. My Mom was always pushing me to be the absolute best at whatever activity she signed me up for but my grandparents always just wanted me to have fun. They’d never get me anything practical for my birthday or Christmas. It was always a toy or a game, or a book. Never anything ‘useful.’” Cassandra shook her head again, this time with a small laugh. “I remember when I was ten I spent a couple of weeks with them one summer. My mom sent copies of a bunch of elocution exercises she expected me to do everyday. Grandma ‘lost’ them between the airport and her house. Mom was furious…”

Cassandra shivered and wrapped her arms around herself, the breath from her sigh visible in the cold air. Robert’s own hands felt useless, stuffed in his coat pockets.

“That must have been tough, not being able to see your Grandparents so you could do what you loved.”

Cassandra snorted.

“You know what's messed up?” She asked, lowering her voice. “I don't know that I ever loved acting.”

Robert was dumbfounded.

“Didn't your show run for like, five seasons?”

“Six,” Cassandra corrected. “It ran for six seasons. And yeah, it was fun at first for teenage me. I didn't have to go to school, I got to hang out with my friends everyday. The production crew was actually really kind and good with us kids.

“But the filming schedule was intense. We were cranking out twenty-two episodes a season and since kids can only film so many hours a day it meant I spent a lot of days at the studio. I guess it was somewhere around season...four? It started to feel like work, not play. I mean, I guess I was still having fun, but that's when the gilding began to chip off the edges and I started asking myself who I was actually doing it all for.”

Cassandra unwrapped her arms and placed her gloved hands on the top rail of the fence. In the dark Robert could just make out the way they clenched.

“My mom was the one that always wanted me to be an actor, and I was happy it made her happy I guess? I don’t know. It was fun for a while and I enjoyed it, but the fact that she was proud of me, that's what I loved.”

“And when it stopped being fun?” Robert asked.

Cassandra didn't answer. Instead she stared at the pond, eyes unfocused. Before Robert could repeat the question a cheer went up from the crowd across the water and he could hear them begin to countdown from ten.

“They're about to light the tree!” Cassandra exclaimed. She was back. Robert wasn't sure where she had gone but he decided to enjoy the moment with her instead of prying.

The countdown carried clearly in the crisp winter air. Cassandra fervently whispered the numbers along with the crowd and Robert found himself joining her.

Three...two...one!

The opposite bank exploded in a kaleidoscope of constellations. Not just the tree, but the roof and cornices of every building in the square blazed alive with a million points of scintillating light. Robert’s breath caught in his throat, and even from across the pond he could hear the crowd gasp in delight. The band struck up a lively rendition of “Deck the Halls” while people cheered and joined in song. The starburst stood tall atop the tree, joining the night stars shining against the dark.

Robert looked over at Cassandra. The lights from across the pond cast a warm glow on her face. Her lips were parted in a frozen gasp and her eyes sparkled with wonder and delight as she stared at the scene, enraptured. It was the first time he felt like he had truly seen one of the women. Yes, he'd been on dates and spent the night with others, but those had been a series of awkward getting-to-know-you fumbles. This? This wasn’t a mandatory date or contrived intimacy, it was Cassandra willingly letting her guard down and trusting him with a part of who she was.

“It's beautiful.” Cassandra whispered. “Just like I remember it...”

Robert turned back to the tree and the illuminated town that surrounded it. It was beautiful.