Round 1 Day 3 - Eleanor's Date (1/3)

Matt stared at the fang that had been exposed by Eleanor’s raised lip, making absolutely certain of what he was seeing before commenting on it.

“You bought your losing transformation,” he noted, carefully non-judgemental. It seemed the most likely explanation. Someone else could have bought it for her, but because it cost more to buy a TF for someone else that would mean only Grace, Poppy or Sarah could have afforded to do so - from what he remembered of the last time he’d checked the scoreboard before Max’s date. Any of them buying Eleanor a pair of fangs seemed unlikely.

Eleanor’s lips, coloured with a purple so rich it had live-in staff, slammed shut. Her red eyes flinched away as though his flat tone had been a vicious scolding.

“No,” she mumbled unconvincingly, then corrected herself, “Yes. I mean, what does it matter to you?” she huffed, then forced herself to make eye contact again to shoot him what she probably thought was a scathing look.

“It doesn’t matter to me particularly,” he said pleasantly, ignoring the glare, “That one seemed pretty harmless, since the arousal effect only happens if you bite someone. I’m just curious why you wanted it.”

“If I’m going to be a vampire then I might as well look the part,” she said as if it was obvious, and pulled her face into an open-mouthed snarl to show off both of the brand new pearly-white fangs.

“Well it’s a good look for you,” Matt said with a wink and a grin, then made a sweeping gesture at the staircase, “The spa then? I think I saw that while I was exploring. Do you remember the way there?”

The snarl dropped, and the vampire recoiled slightly as she floundered for an appropriate reaction, eventually deciding on an indignant tut. “Follow me, and keep up,” she snapped, storming away down the stairs before he could see the faint blush forming on her pale cheeks. Why had she just snarled at him like she was in a cheesy horror film? What was she thinking?

Eleanor brushed past all the bedroom doors and out into the common room, where she’d spent most of yesterday reading. The sky visible through the windows had clouded over since the morning, leaving the sunlight weak and grey, but the fireplace crackled with a warm orange glow. On the sofa closest to it April was laying on her side, curled up into a ball with her knees to her chin and her tail looped around to rest in front of her face. Despite seemingly being asleep, her ears tracked their movement as they entered the room. After a few seconds, the catgirl perked up, eyes immediately locking onto the pair.

“Oh, hi Matt,” she chirped, blinking sleepily but quickly sitting up, “Is Sarah around? I haven’t seen her all day.”

“We just got back from the wedding, actually,” he replied, slowing down, “She might be in your room getting changed? I’m sure she’ll be out shortly.”

“Ah, okay,” she smiled and tried desperately not to look in that direction, “That’s... that’s good. Did you have a nice time?”

Matt smiled warmly back at her. “We did, actually. It was nothing like any wedding I’ve been to before, but it was interesting to meet other people in our situation. Even Sarah seemed to enjoy herself, and she doesn't normally like parties. Honestly, that was the best thing about it for me.”

“Ahem,” Eleanor cleared her throat, her pale face as thunderous as the heavy clouds outside.

“Sorry,” Matt said to both women, then to April, “We’ll have to talk more later. I know I’ve been shut away reading for the last couple of mornings, but I’ll try and spend some more time with everyone else outside of the dates from now on.”

“Ahem,” Eleanor tried more insistently, tapping her foot and folding her arms.

“You can go, it’s alright,” April said quietly, looking down at her knees with a shy smile, “We’ll talk more later.”

“Absolutely, we need to catch up with each other properly,” he promised, then turned to follow his date once more, “Shall we?”

Eleanor nodded stiffly in acknowledgement, then strutted deeper into the castle. Matt caught up easily with a couple of long strides, walking alongside her now rather than behind. He kept his eyes straight ahead and his face neutral as he addressed her in a low tone.

“Sorry about that. I know today is your day, but I haven’t seen April in nearly twenty years. It's nice to chat with her again.”

“It’s... fine,” she begrudgingly allowed. Twenty years was longer than she had been alive. As much as she deserved all attention to be directed her way on today of all days, she could cope with a brief distraction for something like that. She searched for a way to continue the conversation before the distraction grew. “So you've been reading then? What books?”

“The other seasons of this Hotel,” he admitted with a self-conscious shrug, “Trying to figure this game out. I read a few of the shorter ones on the first night, then started on one of the longer ones. It might actually be the longest, I think. Or close to it at least.”

Eleanor faltered a step, falling slightly behind Matt as they wound through the corridors towards the spa.

“Really? Which one is that?” she asked, mostly successful at keeping the sudden anxiety out of her voice.

“The HH. Andy Cooper. The season I just visited for the wedding.” He shook his head and chuckled, and Eleanor relaxed at the answer. “Weird to think that I'm in that story now. I kind of was before, I guess, but... nevermind. Which one were you reading? I saw you with another huge book when I was with Max.”

“Nick Reynolds, I think the season was called ‘Island Paradise’ or something like that,” she stumbled slightly over her words as she skipped a couple of steps to catch up again.

“Huh. I met him at the wedding, briefly. Is his season any good?”

“It's been interesting so far. Just from the perspective of trying to figure this game out, obviously,” she rushed to clarify, “They have some quite different rules though. And this Nick seems like he doesn't really know what he's doing yet.”

“I’d be surprised if anyone did in a situation like ours,” Matt flashed her a grin that was in danger of triggering her sunlight transformation. “Perhaps I should check that season out next.”

Eleanor nearly bit her tongue, which could have been quite painful with her new fangs, but affected a nonchalant and uncaring attitude before responding.

“Maybe it would be better to each read something different?” she suggested, as though it didn't make a difference either way.

Matt made a small noise of thoughtful consideration. “That makes a lot of sense, assuming we’re sharing our findings,” he stopped, and stuck out a hand to her, “Research partners then?”

“I... sure. Research partners.” Eleanor took his hand and briefly shook it, then quickly turned away and continued on towards the spa. ‘Research partner’ was so far away from her goals for this date that it should have been insulting, but a pink blush coloured her pale cheeks and she could still feel the warmth of his palm against hers.

When Sarah left the Master Suite the door somehow led directly to the romance room that was hers for this round, and even more confusingly the Host who had been right by her side and ushering her through the doorway was nowhere to be seen. She was alone again. Alone with her thoughts and the sad, insecure woman in the mirror. They looked at each other for a while through the reflective glass, before Sarah lost her nerve and turned away.

She'd messed up the conversation with Matt. She knew that. Of course he hadn't been trying to get her to move on, even if it would be for the best if she did. He was only trying to be fair to her. He didn't understand, and she could never let him understand. Not if she wanted to avoid ruining everything even more than she already had.

The drawers and wardrobe contained the same array of skimpy outfits that Sarah had been getting used to over the last few days, and she rummaged through them to try and decide which would be the most comfortable way to sacrifice her dignity when she changed out of her wedding outfit. Not that she had much dignity left, with her husband being on a date with a woman who was ten years younger while she was left to wait for the ghostly sensations of him touching her. She picked out a pair of sweatpants that would undoubtedly be too tight, and a t-shirt that was loose, opaque, and had an entirely modest neckline. The lack of any obvious issues with it probably only meant she'd get to experience some new and exciting way to reveal her transformed body.

Sure enough, the problem became immediately apparent once Sarah had pulled the t-shirt on and checked the mirror again. It covered everything important, it wasn't see-through, but the trap was in the looseness. The fabric was so light and flowing that it draped across the top of her breasts, outlining the curves rather than concealing them. There was a visible shadow from the bump of her nipples.

Sarah bit her lip as she considered her reflection. There was no way she could ever go out there in front of anyone else looking like that, but maybe the woman in the mirror could. The woman in the mirror could be confident and sexy. The woman in the mirror could seduce someone else, if that was what Matt wanted. But the woman in the mirror wasn't really her, and everyone in the castle knew it. Who could ever want her, knowing what she actually looked like under the surface?

There was a knock at the door, quiet and timid, and then a matching voice.

“Sarah? Can I come in?” April called through the wooden barrier.

She blinked and pulled her attention away from the mirror. “Um. Sure? It's your room too.”

“I know,” the catgirl said, slipping inside and closing the door behind her, “I just didn't want to surprise you if you were...” her eyes caught on Sarah's chest for a moment before reaching her face. Whatever she saw there made her immediately reconsider the direction of the conversation. “Are you okay?”

“Hmm? Oh, I'm fine,” Sarah lied. She glanced back over her shoulder. The woman in the mirror didn't look fine. “I'm fine,” she said again, quieter.

“If you're sure, I guess,” April said awkwardly, wringing her hands in front of her.

“I'm sure. I'm...” Sarah tried to force a smile, but couldn't. She remembered Laura's advice to her during the bachelorette party: say it to someone who gets it. She'd meant herself, but Laura was a world away and probably busy with her honeymoon, or whatever it was that had happened at the end of the wedding. Maybe her roommate would understand though. At least some of it.

“I'm not okay,” she admitted, the three words falling from her lips like the pebbles that started a landslide, “I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know what Matt sees in me. I have all of this now.” She gestured to the reflection, and the reflection gestured back at her. “But it doesn't feel like me, and it doesn't feel like enough.”

April’s face crumpled into a complicated expression of old grief and new sympathy. Her cat ears went flat, her eyes went wide even as her brows turned down at the edges. “Oh boy,” she murmured to herself, then took a deep breath and a step closer, “I don’t really know anything about relationships, but I know what it’s like to not feel at home in your body, and staring at myself in the mirror never once helped with the bad days. All it did was show me the bits that were wrong, over and over until they were the only bits left.”

“It’s not that,” Sarah shook her head hard, “The problem is there’s nothing wrong. It looks perfect, it’s exactly what I always wanted, and I should be happy with that. But it’s not me, is it? I’m still the short, fat girl with crooked teeth. It doesn’t matter what I look like on the outside, I’ll never be anything other than that. Not really.”

The venom spilled forth in a noxious stream directed at the perfect girl in the mirror, only to be reflected just like everything else. April had been reaching out a supportive hand, but retracted it as she was caught in the crossfire between Sarah and herself. She let the hand fall limply by her side. Her tail and ears drooped.

“Yeah...” April said weakly, “I get that too.”

Something about the tone made Sarah finally tear her attention away from the reflection, and her heart skipped a beat when she saw her roommate’s expression and realised what she’d done.

“Oh, shit, no I didn’t...” she spun to face her, closing the distance, “I didn’t mean it like that. You’re a girl. A woman. I mean, just look at you. You’re beautiful.”

“On the outside, maybe,” April gave a half-hearted shrug and a false smile.

Sarah took another half-step closer, and hesitantly lay a hand on each of her roommate’s shoulders. “No. You’re a woman, inside as well as out, and you always were. This is my problem, not yours. I’m the one who couldn’t change. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry to me,” she sighed, “You should be sorry to yourself. I get it. It’s hard, especially on the bad days, but being mean to yourself doesn’t help. You’re beautiful on the inside too.”

“I don’t...” Sarah began croakily, then stopped herself as she looked into April’s kindly eyes, “Thank you. I’m not sure I believe you, but thank you for saying it.”

April’s smile became a little softer and more genuine, and her ears slowly perked up. “That’s a start,” she said gently, “You know Matt sees that as well, right? He really loves you, and not just for what you look like. I talked to him just before I came in here, and he told me his favourite part of the wedding was that you enjoyed it.”

“I know he loves me. I just don’t know why. He could do so much better than me.” Sarah grumbled, then started to look back towards the mirror.

April saw the motion, and lunged. Before she knew what she was doing, she had her arms wrapped around her roommate, their chests pressed together and her chin rested on Sarah’s shoulder to block her from turning her head any further. Sarah stiffened at the sudden contact, then slowly relaxed. She let her hands slip off April’s shoulders to rest on her upper back instead.

“You’ve been so lovely and welcoming to me,” April murmured, not entirely sure where she was going with this, “I know I don’t really know you yet, but I think you’re a wonderful person already. I know I don’t really know Matt anymore either, but even I can see that he loves you more than anything. Just because you can’t see the reasons doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”

“Thank you,” Sarah whispered, a lump growing in her throat and moisture brimming in her eyes, “I... he’s going to love you too. I know it.”

“Thanks,” April said back to her with a slightly damp giggle.

The pair drew back slightly, looking into each other’s smiles. For a brief moment April’s breath caught in her throat, then she looked away and blushed. Sarah blinked as the moment passed, then cleared her throat.

“So... did you want something when you came in here?”

April glanced over at the bed, flashes of memory crossing her mind. A dark room, muffled moans, the scent of sex as two women peaked in pleasure side by side without acknowledging each other. Her blush deepened, and she shook her head. It wasn’t a good moment to bring it up. Some other time, maybe.

“Oh, it was nothing,” she said shyly, “Just... would you like to hang out this afternoon? I didn't really have any plans, but your company would be nice.”

“That sounds lovely,” Sarah sighed, “As long as it’s nothing too strenuous. It’s been a long couple of days.”

The roommates reluctantly released each other, and slowly made their way out into the castle. The woman in the mirror never once looked back at Sarah.

The manicure was a safe way to start the date, though Eleanor couldn’t help her mind from wandering to what the rest of the day might bring. The room was softly lit, and filled with the sound of gently trickling water features and the scent of vanilla. Matt was sitting a modest distance away while they both had their fingernails buffed and polished by a pair of very attentive goblins. It should have been relaxing, but her mouth was dry and her heart jumped every time she imagined what was coming later.

“So what have you noticed so far?” Matt asked, “Anything this other season has in common with us? Any similar themes?”

“Themes?” she rolled her blood-red eyes as she came back down to the conversation from her latest flight of fancy, “You sound like my old English teacher.”

“Well we are in a story now,” he said with a shrug, then blinked as though the thought had taken him by surprise. His confusion only lasted a moment before he shook himself and clarified. “I mean, not literally, but Scarlet did keep saying this was about telling a good story. They’re trying to make this entertaining for the Audience, and how they’re structuring that tells us something.”

“I guess,” she said, unconvinced, “I don’t know about themes, but all the contestants seem like they weren’t doing very well before they were kidnapped, and that seems the same here. For everyone except me, that is.”

The goblin manicurists silently snickered in perfect synchronicity at Eleanor’s addendum. Matt squinted at her and opened his mouth to say something, then decided it wasn’t worth the argument and chose to say something else instead.

“Yeah, that matches what I read too. I don’t want to assume the motivations of whoever picks out Contestants, but I guess it would make sense as a way to amplify the drama or make people more willing to compete if they’re at a low point when they arrive.”

“Their Host also seems very... loud, like Scarlet,” she continued, oblivious to both the snickering and the squint, “And not very competent either.”

“That’s very different from Arabella then, and someone I met at the wedding passed on a message from her own Host and she seemed very different yet again. I don’t think Scarlet is as incompetent as she acts though. Don’t underestimate her.”

“I won’t,” Eleanor shuddered at the memory of what had happened when Nick’s group had underestimated their own Host.

The goblins were very carefully ignoring them now, intently focused on the manicure instead. Matt wondered what their thoughts would be of their boss, and if they’d even be able to share them, but they certainly didn’t seem inclined to offer any input even if they were probably aware of the direction his mind was turning.

“What about the Master on that season?” he changed the subject, “Anything he might have in common with me?”

She eyed him thoughtfully, pursing her purple lips - a shade so rich it had a chauffeur - as she looked him up and down, then slowly shook her head. “I don’t think so. He’s an author, not a banker.” Matt’s eyebrows went up in interest, but Eleanor didn’t notice. “...or whatever it is you do for daddy,” she said with a dismissive sniff, but then her expression turned pensive. “He seems really sad too.”

Matt watched her face fall as her thoughts turned inwards. The goblins slowed in their work in response to the changing mood, still perfectly synchronised.

“Why’s that?” he asked, curious but quiet.

Eleanor blinked as she returned to the room again, and she began a faltering explanation of Nick Reynold’s childhood trauma. Matt’s eyes gradually widened as the story went on.

“I knew parts of that story already,” he muttered to himself, “But I didn’t realise how deep the similarities went.”

“Similarities? Did something like that happen to you?” she asked with a growing look of horror and sympathy.

“Not me,” he shook his head, “Just... never mind. Something to look into later. What about specific contestants then? Anyone that has common themes with someone here?”

It was like an English class all over again. It was nothing at all like Eleanor had expected the date to go. But it was weirdly enjoyable, thinking about the story she had read like it was some sort of puzzle, so she let it slide. She’d get her own way as the date carried on, even if she wasn’t sure whether she was excited or terrified. She always got her own way.