Movie Night

By the time the fashion show was over, Craig had stopped trying to understand what had happened.

That honestly seemed like the only sensible response.

The warehouse slowly returned to normal, although "normal" was becoming a dangerously flexible concept. The folding chairs disappeared. The runway vanished. The lights went back to their ordinary industrial brightness. His coworkers returned to their jobs, although several of them had stopped him on the way upstairs to congratulate him.

Congratulate him.

For a fashion show he hadn't wanted to attend, hadn't agreed to be part of, and had been magically compelled to perform.

One of the warehouse workers had even clapped him on the shoulder and told him he had "really owned that runway." Craig had smiled politely and said thank you. Inside, he had been dying.

The strangest part was that Euphrosyne had almost completely left him alone afterward.

Almost.

She appeared only once during the afternoon, when Craig was changing for his pole dancing lesson. The instructor had apparently decided that today's outfit should consist of a glittering silver pair of thigh-high boots and a matching silver bikini. Craig had stared at the outfit for a long time.

"Absolutely not," he told himself, while knowing how absolutely fruitless the argument would be if he brought it up with Melody. The outfit would remain. His resolve would not.

Craig sighed.

"Fine."

He had barely managed to get the boots on before Euphrosyne appeared in the changing room, sitting on the bench with her legs crossed and an enormous smile on her face.

"Those look fantastic!"

"Please don't," he responded, looking down at his practically naked body.

She laughed.

"I can't wait for tonight," she said, practically vibrating with excitement. "You're going to have such a wonderful time."

That was not reassuring.

"What exactly are you planning?"

"That's a surprise."

Craig stared at her.

"Euphrosyne."

"Craig."

"I've had a very long day."

"I know. I was there."

"You made me model dozens of outfits in front of practically everyone I've ever worked with."

"And you were magnificent," she walked up and pinched his cheek. "But I didn't make you do anything. That was your idea, remember? The bet?"

"That's not helping," Craig said as he rubbed his forehead. "You know as well as I do that there was no way out of that fashion show except via the runway."

Euphrosyne only smiled.

"I guess we'll never know," she said with a musical quality to her tone. "Oh, and I did you a favour."

"What kind of favour?"

"I streamed your fashion show."

Craig slowly blinked in disbelief.

"You what?" His voice squeaked.

"I streamed it! The whole thing! Your followers loved it!" she said with glee. "Your comments section has been incredibly lively."

Craig's stomach sank.

"The entire thing?"

"Of course!"

"Without asking me?"

"You were busy," she said, flippantly. "But don't worry. Now you don't have to worry about making content tonight. You've already got plenty. And we're freed up to have fun!"

Craig stared at her. For several seconds, neither of them spoke.

"You're enjoying this too much," he finally said.

"Immensely."

At least she was honest.

By the time the pole dancing lesson ended, Craig was exhausted enough that even outrage required effort. His muscles ached. His feet hurt despite the fact that the silver boots had somehow felt perfectly comfortable. His makeup had survived the entire lesson with insulting efficiency.

All he wanted was to go home. A shower. Something comfortable to eat. Maybe television. Ideally something mindless that required absolutely no participation from him.

Craig dressed himself in his charcoal skirt and blue top, pushed through the studio doors, and stepped outside. The evening air felt cool against his face. His pink Volkswagen seemed to glow in the evening light. Craig walked toward it with his purse hanging from one shoulder, his heels clicking against the pavement. The passenger door opened before he reached it.

Euphrosyne was sitting inside.

"Hi!" she beamed. "Ready?"

"Can't I just home?" he asked, already knowing the answer. "Maybe I could take a shower and put on something more comfortable."

Euphrosyne's hand waved in front of her, causing the air to shimmer slightly.

"More comfortable than that?" she asked, innocently.

Craig looked down. Gone was the charcoal skirt. Gone was the puff-sleeve blouse. In their place was a very short, very floral minidress. Not only that, but he no longer felt tired and sweaty. A wave of relief washed over him, leaving him feeling refreshed and clean. A waft of perfume filled his nostrils as he stared at his body in amazement.

The worst part of it was that she was right. Whatever it was that Euphrosyne had done, he did in fact feel extremely comfortable. The open-toed heels made his legs feel completely relaxed. The dress felt as if he had been born to wear it. Yes, he knew that for his whole life he would have never put something like that on, but in that moment, standing on the sidewalk beside the pink car, he couldn't imagine feeling better in anything else.

"What the..."

"I've decided that since you've been working so hard," she said in a matronly tone, "you should get a chance to relax. Besides, you promised. Anything I want. All night."

Craig wanted to argue. He wanted to walk away. Instead, he climbed into the driver's seat. She was right, he had lost the bet, he had promised. And besides, he had seen how easily she'd changed his clothes. What else could she do if he refused?

Euphrosyne immediately began talking the moment he shut his door.

"So? Did you watch your video? And more importantly, did you see the comments?"

"How could I? You just told me before my lesson. I've been a little busy."

"Well they were wonderful," she said, not missing a beat. "People really love you, you know. It's quite amazing. Your new life is so much more vibrant than your old one. You should see how they were arguing about which outfit was their favourite!"

"I don't want to know."

"Someone made a compilation," she continued. "It's trending! You've gone viral!"

Craig gripped the steering wheel and closed his eyes.

"I hate my life," he muttered.

"You keep saying that," she noted. "Of course you do. That's why Eros found you."

"He found me because he wants to torture me."

"He found you because you need his help," Euphrosyne said with a warm smile.

Craig had no response to that. Arguing with her was like arguing with Eros. It wouldn't go anywhere that would feel remotely like a win for Craig.

And so, resigned to his fate, Craig turned on the car and began to drive, no idea as to where they were going. Putting his foot on the gas pedal and accelerating, he marvelled for the first time at how easily he had adapted to driving in heels. There was no sense of clumsiness, no sense of discomfort. With ease his foot moved from the gas to the brake, then back again, not for a moment feeling out of control.

For a moment, his mind slipped back to before Eros' intrusion in his life, from before he had been trapped in a world where he had to wear heels. How exactly had he ever driven in flat shoes? He thought hard, trying to take hold of a memory, something that would tether him to his old life. But nothing came. In Craig's mind it was either drive in heels or not drive at all. The entire concept seemed impossible.

The drive continued in silence for nearly thirty seconds before Euphrosyne began humming. Craig glanced at her sideways. She was smiling at the passing city lights as though she had never seen anything more beautiful.

"What are you so happy about?"

"Your world. It's been a long time since I was able to truly appreciate it so close up," she said with a contented tone. "You mortals don't know how good you've got it."

"Right."

"Also tonight. We're going to have fun," Euphrosyne said as she turned toward him. "I had an idea. I've never seen a movie before."

Craig blinked.

"What?"

"A movie."

"You've never seen a movie?"

"No."

Craig considered this.

"Not even once?"

"Not like this," she said as she leaned back against the seat. "My brother Dionysus used to put on plays with mortals. I loved watching them. Mortals are wonderful performers. So emotional. So dramatic. They would laugh and cry and fall in love and fight and die, sometimes all in the same story. I always thought movies must be similar."

"You've got to be kidding," Craig said, looking at her in disbelief. "You're a goddess. You won the bet. You can make me do anything tonight, and you want to go to the movies?"

"Why, aren't movie nights fun?" she grinned.

Craig stared at the road. A movie night. That was it? Craig felt something inside him loosen. A small smile appeared on his face.

"Fine," he said. "A movie night. Sounds like a good night."

"Wonderful!"

"And nothing else?"

She looked innocent.

"Nothing I can think of."

Craig didn't entirely believe her. Still, this was manageable. A movie night was normal. Almost painfully normal. He could sit in a dark room, eat popcorn, watch something, and go home. Craig almost began to relax. Then Euphrosyne reached across the console and took his hand.

"Ready?"

Her fingers closed around his. The world disappeared.

---

Craig found himself sitting in a dark theatre. He looked around. Rows of empty seats stretched behind them. The walls were dark red. Small lights glowed along the floor. A massive screen filled the entire front wall. There wasn't another person anywhere. Two drinks sat in the holders beside their seats. A large bucket of popcorn rested between them.

Craig stared.

"What the fuck? How did we get here?"

Euphrosyne was already reaching for the popcorn.

"Magic."

"Right."

He picked up his drink. The cold air of the theatre brushed against his legs. Craig shifted slightly, suddenly aware of how much skin he was showing. The sensation was strangely pleasant after the heat of the dance studio. Euphrosyne looked around with wide eyes.

"This is incredible," she whispered.

"You really have never done this?"

"No."

The lights dimmed. Euphrosyne grabbed Craig's arm.

"It's starting!"

Craig smiled despite himself. The opening scene appeared.

When Harry Met Sally.

Craig's eyebrows rose.

"You've got good taste," he said.

"It's a good one? I'm glad! I picked the first one randomly."

"Sure."

Euphrosyne watched with intense concentration. For several minutes, everything was peaceful. She laughed at the jokes. She asked questions about the characters. She seemed fascinated by the simple mechanics of the movie itself. Then, suddenly, she frowned.

"How long is this?"

"About an hour and a half."

Her expression fell.

"That's forever," she whined.

"It's really not," he disagreed. "It's a great movie. It'll fly by. Trust me."

"I don't want to wait that long to see what happens."

"That's how movies work, Euphrosyne," he said. "You need to let them tell you a story."

"Not tonight," she said.

Euphrosyne waved one hand. The screen went black. Credits appeared. Craig stared.

"What?"

The credits rolled for several seconds. Then the lights came up. Euphrosyne smiled.

"That was wonderful!"

Craig stared at her.

"You just skipped the entire movie."

"No, I didn't."

"You absolutely did."

"I experienced it."

"You watched it for five minutes!"

"Do we need more?" she asked. "Are you sure we didn't watch it?"

Craig opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. Then it hit him. The movie. It had skipped ahead, that's true, but his memory of the film was completely refreshed. Not a reminder of something he'd watched in the past, but fresh memories, as if he'd just finished watching it. Euphrosyne picked up another handful of popcorn.

"Okay," she said as she tapped the tip of her nose thoughtfully, then pointed at the screen. "What should we pick next.... How about that one."

Craig looked. The room went dark. The movie began to play.

Die Hard.

The movie started. Five minutes later, Euphrosyne waved her hand. Credits. Craig looked at her. She smiled. Again the movie was fresh in his mind.

"Next."

The process continued. One movie became another. A romantic comedy. A horror movie. A science-fiction film. An action movie. Euphrosyne watched just long enough to become invested, then apparently decided that waiting for the story to unfold was beneath her. The next thing he knew the credits were rolling and his brain was uploaded with the experience of watching the film.

Craig eventually stopped complaining. After everything else that had happened, speed-running an entire filmography was hardly worth getting upset about. At least he was sitting down. At least nobody was watching him. At least nobody was making him wear a ridiculous outfit. And besides, some of these movies weren't half bad, even it he never actually watched them.

The thought had barely finished forming when Euphrosyne stopped eating. Craig noticed immediately.

"What?"

"These are very good," she said as she folded her arms.

"Glad you're enjoying them."

"But something is missing."

"What?" Craig frowned.

"My brother understood something about plays," she explained. "They aren't fun because of the story. They're fun because of the mortals involved."

Craig pointed toward the screen.

"The actors are mortals."

Euphrosyne shook her head.

"Those aren't mortals."

"They're literally people."

"No."

"Those are only images," she leaned toward the screen and explained. "Echos of men and women in moments that have passed. They aren't alive. They're impressions of how a mortal could be. Your machines make pictures move, but that's not the same as having the mortal right there."

Something about the way she said it made Craig uncomfortable. Then Euphrosyne's smile returned.

"I think it's time we made movie night a little more interesting."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't worry, sweetie," she said as her eyes sparkled. "I think you'll enjoy this."

Craig immediately knew that was a terrible sign.

"Euphrosyne..."

She reached for his hand.

"Babe, I'm going to put you in the movies."