Ronnie

Fifteen years before the premiere

Ronnie couldn’t sleep a wink that night. Fortunately, Mei had cartwheeled and fingered herself into total exhaustion and passed out splayed out on the floor, and the eliminated contestants did not come downstairs after Ronnie looped them all into an endless orgy, so that left Ronnie alone to check the scoreboard every 30 seconds for six straight hours.

Her mind kept repeating the same question:

Did I do the right thing?

Colt and Al’s conversation had left her with one idea, a reckless idea that could work to everyone’s benefit or doom them all. And to do it, she’d had to look straight into Tarin’s face and lie to her over and over while the woman was **** for support.

It will be ok Tarin, I think he’s ready to break down. Yes, those panties look great with that lipstick. Just fuck him if you can, it’s not that big a deal. But if he won’t, get some points for yourself, any points, and we will figure out our next move after the challenge. With only two of us left, we can use the wish to make our landing as soft as possible once this is over.

All of it bullshit. She was hoping for the opposite result the whole time. When it was past 3AM, she’d finally accepted that Tarin’s point total wasn’t going to climb and she was able to pass out into a restless sleep.

At least for a few hours, until she was shaken awake by a frantic Tarin looming over her bed. Tarin’s even more massive tits hanging in Ronnie’s face would have answered the implied question even if the tears destroying her make-up hadn’t.

Ronnie sat up, twisting her way around the small planet-sized melons and trying to rub the sleep out of her eyes. Tarin waited impatiently until Ronnie tuned her tits to her frequency before launching into it.

“It didn’t work!”

“What happened? Walk me through it.”

Tarin dropped on the bed and buried her head in her hands.

“I tried everything, Ronnie. Mei begged and that didn’t work but I had to try again, you tried seducing him and that didn’t work, but I tried that too. I even tried explaining to him rationally how this fit into his bullshit worldview. Do you have any idea how humiliating it was to break out my old high-school debate club tricks to get this guy to pity fuck me!?”

Ronnie hugged Tarin as tightly as she could, which was getting difficult given the woman’s new circumference.

“I think we’re gonna be ok.” Ronnie said, squeezing Tarin again. “We’re gonna be ok.”

“How could you say that? How could you know?”

I don’t.

Playing for time, Ronnie tapped her ear and pointed to the ceiling. They’re listening. Tarin nodded, but knowing she wouldn’t get any more information caused her to burst into uncontrollable tears again, leaving Ronnie only able to stroke her back and whisper comforting platitudes. And pray.

Though the hotel usually charged the girls to eat at the built-in restaurant, about a week earlier Colt had ordered the hotel buffet to serve the contestants a free breakfast and to stop delivering the Master’s meals to his room. As he’d put it, it helped to keep the girls “fresh and frisky” - his code for keeping them from getting even more sullen and withdrawn, and it helped to bait the Master down to interact with them. The latter failed, as Silas was apparently able to resist the call of food long enough for everyone to filter out before he joined. Still, the change came at a fortuitous time, because Tarin and Ronnie were both nearly out of chips. The declining viewership in the show led to a decrease in popularity poll voters, which meant they were not receiving much in the way of money between rounds.

That being said, there wasn’t hardly anything to spend them but stuff to appeal to the Master, but he rejected their physical gifts as rudely as their sexual propositions, so the few chips they had gathered dust on their nightstands.

But Tarin’s mood was awful - not without cause - and the only thing guaranteed to cheer her up was a short stack of pancakes. So, with much coaxing, Ronnie talked the woman into a shower and fresh clothes to go have some. She had gotten Tarin as far as the elevator when the blonde suddenly jumped forward and grabbed the door, to make it open again.

“Wait, we need Mei!”

“Ok… why?”

“This could be her last day! Its the least we could do.” Tarin seemed shocked that Ronnie hadn’t suggested it first. Ronnie sighed and followed Tarin back out, but Mei was nowhere to be found.

“She must have already gone down, Tarin. If we hurry we can catch her.”

“Where the heck is everyone?” Tarin asked when they reached the gaming floor. They had expected the usual energy they provided, even if it was becoming a source of nervous energy lately.

“Beats me,” Even though they avoided the contestants they could usually be heard somewhere. This time, the Staff were entirely gone. Ronnie had not really enjoyed their presence, neither when they were endlessly trying to rope the girls into gambling or when they were scuttling away from the failing contestants like roaches in the light. But their total absence was making Ronnie’s skin crawl for reasons she couldn’t understand. Kinda feels like they were a buffer against… something. The endless lights and bells and yelling had become a background din to Ronnie’s life, and the silence and stillness was no relief.

Tarin grabbed Ronnie’s arm and clung to it like a life preserver. This time, Ronnie clung back.

The restaurant was as empty as the rest of the hotel. Though the buffet settings were still there from the day before, no one had prepared any food.

“Hello?” Tarin said, then hearing her voice echo made her squeak in fear and hide behind Ronnie. Considering Tarin was much taller and, thanks to the tits, now much wider, it didn’t do much of anything to conceal her from view.

“Guess we gotta make them ourselves.” Ronnie took Tarin’s hand. “Come on, girl, you gotta eat.” Ronnie wasn’t sure she could even enter the kitchen, but as no one was there to stop her, she dragged Tarin through the doors. The kitchen was so clean it looked like they had just installed the appliances the day before, but it was still empty of staff. At least it's stocked with food.

“Sit.” Ronnie slapped the counter a few feet down from the stovetop. When the unbalanced Tarin tried and failed to climb up, Ronnie realized she’d have to help, and knelt down to boost her.

“Sorry,” Tarin blushed. “These girls are a little big or I’d help you.”

“Don’t even worry about it, babe.” The initial shock of seeing the empty casino had left its mark, but the longer she went without sighting a Staff, the more she was starting to grow confident that her plan had worked. Ronnie whipped up a small set of pancakes, taking Tarin’s constant backseat driving in stride.

“Don’t whip the eggs so hard when you’re mixing them up.”

“You’re flipping them too early.”

“That’s not enough chocolate chips.”

Girl’s been through it and she likes her pancakes some kinda way. Ronnie just smiled and kept cooking.

Once she’d prepared a set to Tarin’s satisfaction, the two enjoyed their food alone in the restaurant. There didn’t seem to be any need to rush, so they took their time, as Tarin insisted on savoring every bite.

“Not bad?” Ronnie asked as she took a small forkful.

“I’ve had better.” Tarin smiled, then her eyes went wide as Ronnie kicked her under the table. “Ow! Ok, best I’ve had since I came here, that good enough?”

“No, but it will have to do.” Ronnie said through a full mouth. Tarin giggled at that, which improved Ronnie’s mood considerably.

“There’s a place back home that makes them so good…” Tarin’s eyes practically glazed over.

“You’ll have to take me there when we get out of this.”

Tarin’s face fell. “Do you think we will? Get out of this?”

Ronnie put down her fork and looked around. She hadn’t seen hide nor hair of any staff, or indeed anyone. What’s the risk? What could they do now?

“I think there’s a chance. I heard them talking yesterday… that the show might get canceled.”

“Canceled?!” Tarin dropped her fork and shrieked. “What then!?

“Well, we’d go home, right?. They wouldn’t need us any more.” Ronnie felt a lot less confident than she sounded, but she needed to bring Tarin down off the ledge. “That seems only natural to me.”

“I can’t go home like this!” Tarin said, plopping her massive rack on the table. “Will they even stop growing?!”

“A minute ago you didn’t think we'd go home at all!” Ronnie snapped back. “It was the first chance I saw to maybe get out of this-”

“Chance that you saw? Ronnie, what did you do??”

“Nothing-” Ronnie wasn’t sure why she felt the need to lie, but it slipped out. Tarin was not having a word of it.

“What did you do?”

“When you were doing laps, I snuck upstairs and told Silas not to do anything with you, ok? He seemed like he was cracking, you know. Like he might actually say yes when you put on your full routine. So I just tried to, you know, bolster his nerves a little.”

“WHY!?!”

“I heard it out of Colt’s mouth, ok!? If Silas didn’t fuck last night, the show was over. Done.”

“You specifically told him not to?! Ronnie, I am gonna be eliminated!”

“No you’re not! Not if there’s no show!”

Ronnie went to take another bite of her pancakes, but with one furious swipe Tarin knocked all the plates off the table, sending the food flying and shattering the plates on the floor. Typically the staff would scramble out of nowhere to clean it up, but the mess just sat there, an accusation hanging in the air.

“Did you do this to win?” Tarin asked.

“You cannot be-”

Tarin drove her knife into the table so hard that it jammed into the wood surface. Ronnie wasn’t even sure a butter knife could do that, but the bitch was determined.

“Did you do this to win the goddamned game?”

“No! I did NOT.” Ronnie leaned back, trying to play it off like a casual move but wondering if Tarin’s next knife swipe was going to be right at her face. “Look around you, everyone’s gone! It worked!”

“You don’t know that, Ronnie, you didn’t know anything and you sabotaged my one chance to save my ass! Maybe this is part of the game! I don’t know, maybe its where they send people who try to cheat! Or worse, maybe you and I are both eliminated, and we’re stuck in here while our bodies are running around being bubble-headed sluts for that asshole.”

“I…” Ronnie hadn’t considered that possibility. Your mind being stuck like that? Fuuuuuck. She tried to defuse the situation slightly. “Ok, I don’t know that. You are right.” She reached out to gently put her hand over Tarin’s wrist. “But let’s take it down a notch and think, ok? If you were eliminated then so was Mei, and we don’t see her. Ok? So that’s out. And - not saying you’re right about this part or anything - but if you both were out then I would win. But I’m here so it can’t be that either.” Ronnie saw Tarin start to calm down. Which meant either that her explanation was working, the pancakes were working, or she was coiling for another strike.

“If the show’s over… then how do we get home?” Tarin asked.

“I don’t know, girl. I don’t.” She took Tarin’s hands in hers. “But if we’re stuck here, we’re stuck here together. You and me against this damned hotel like it’s been since the first day.”

Tarin pulled her hands back, but let the knife fall from her grip. Well she won’t touch me but she won’t stab me either. Win some, lose some. Tarin closed her eyes and shook again, harder than she ever had before. She mouthed something to herself, silently so Ronnie couldn’t pick it up. Ronnie turned a little to give her some privacy, and looked out onto the abandoned gaming floor. A glimpse of movement above the slot machines caught her eye, a small puff of smoke that was a dead giveaway.

“Hold on, there’s Al.” Ronnie jumped to her feet. “He can tell us what happened.” Wait, am I excited to see Al? She ran from the restaurant after him through the hotel, with Tarin trying her best to keep up. The short little fucker is near impossible to spot among all these machines. Ronnie saw a second puff in the general direction of the front door and headed that way. She and Tarin had to shield their eyes as they went out from the darkened floor and into the burning sunlight of the morning. Parked outside was a limousine bearing the Harem Hotel logo, and Al was helping Mei into the rear door.

“Mei?” Tarin called out to her, and the woman stopped climbing into the limo to smile back. She was no longer in her cheerleader outfit, having been replaced with the same polo-and-chinos outfit she’d arrived wearing. She walked - walked! Not handspringing or cartwheeling - over to Tarin and Ronnie, pulling them both into a huge hug. Ronnie quickly twisted her nipple to hear her speak.

“I don’t know what you two did, but thank you…” Mei’s voice cracked slightly, “Al found me this morning, he said the show was over! Can you believe it!? No more rhyming! I get to wear panties again! And if I ever see another pom-pom I am jamming it down someone’s throat.”

“They brought you back to normal?” Tarin asked with obvious hope in her voice. Mei nodded, with a smile so broad that it looked like it would touch both her ears.

“Ride’s leavin’, Mei.” Al tapped the door, his rings making an unpleasant sound on the window glass. Mei hugged the others all the tighter.

“I can’t say we met under ideal circumstances, but I’ll never forget you two.”

“Speak for yourself, Mei.” Ronnie shook her head. “I’m getting enough therapy to forget ALL of this.”

“That husband of yours better strike it rich then!” She laughed, breaking the hug and climbing into the limo. Al shut the door behind her, and the limo drove off. Ronnie followed it as long as she could, but a few hundred yards down the road it shimmered into nothingness like a desert mirage. Ronnie and Tarin hadn’t ever taken the limo, but given what they’d seen and experienced, neither were surprised to see it vanish.

“It’ll be back around in a few for you next,” Al pointed to Tarin. “You two are the last out. Wait here.” Al’s face wore his usual shit-eating smile, but it looked even more artificial than usual. No Colt so far, is he running things now?

“Why the limo?” Ronnie risked a question. “Couldn’t you just wave your wand or something?”

“You heard the lady,” Al waved her off. “No show, no host. No host, no wand. Gotta do it the old fashioned way.” He started to waddle off before she could interrogate that further, not that she necessarily wanted to.

“Hold on.” Ronnie called again. “You wanna help us out here? Like you did to Mei?”

Al threw his head back and groaned like this was just another annoying chore. He pulled a pen and a small old-fashioned looking leather bound notepad from his pocket and flipped through a few pages. Ronnie could see her name written at the top of the page, with handwritten details underneath it. As he struck through the lines, Ronnie felt the unnatural changes to her body reverting one-by-one.

After he had done the same with Tarin, restoring her body to its original shape, Tarin wiped a small tear from her eye as she tentatively bounced her modest B-cups again. She stood up straighter, losing the small hunch that her massive melons had been forcing on her. After crossing it all out, Al flipped the notebook closed and headed through the doors again. And without even saying goodbye. She held back a grin. Fucker.

The pair stood silently in the shadow of the huge lady sign, the groaning of its kicking leg was audible now that there was no bustle of the Staff doing their thing. Ronnie realized it was the first time in a very long time she’d been relaxed enough to not hear her own heartbeat or the ever-present static of the conversations she could not make out, and she took a moment to center herself and just enjoy that feeling.

For as much as that Silas asshole was wrong about, he knew how important it was to be present.

Of course, following that relief came a powerful fatigue even though she’d only just woken up. As if she’d only really noticed the weight she was carrying once it had fallen from her shoulders.

She looked at Tarin to see how she was taking it, but the woman was inscrutable, which was new. From the moment Tarin had arrived until literally that breakfast, she was as obvious and readable as a billboard. And to think, spending time at the casino finally taught her a poker face. Ronnie tried to crack the newly formed ice a little.

“So, what’s the verdict then? Planning to use that?” Ronnie gestured to the butter knife that Tarin was still clutching. Tarin startled, looking down at her hand and just noticing she was holding it. She offered an embarrassed chuckle, then heaved the knife out into the sand.

“I’m sorry I doubted you.” She said in a low voice.

“I get it.” Ronnie said.

“Not all of it.” Tarin said, crossed her arms and rubbed them uncomfortably. “When I thought you’d thrown me under the bus to win, I got so mad because, well, I’d have done it too. If I could have.”

“Yeah. I know.” Ronnie sighed. “Me too, honestly. When I realized there was a chance to get back to my husband, I… Let’s just say I’m glad there was an option that helped us all.”

Neither woman had anything to say for a long time after that. I don’t want this to end on that note.

“You gonna go find that knife now?” Ronnie joked, but this time it simply landed flat.

“I might have used that too, you know.” Tarin did not sound apologetic or guilty.

“I know.”

With the tension ratcheted up to a suffocating degree, the Harem Hotel limo chose that moment to shimmer into existence and pull up in front of the pair. Al didn’t bother to re-emerge, so Tarin opened the door herself and paused as she was climbing in.

“Are you gonna tell Michael when you get back?” Tarin waved her hand at the hotel. “About any of this?”

I’ve been grappling with that very question this whole time.

“I don’t know. How could I ever explain any of it without sounding insane?” How could I ever explain the things they wanted us to do?

“Are you going to tell him about me? About us?” Ronnie usually thought she had a good read on telling people what they wanted to hear, but when Tarin looked at her, Ronnie drew a total blank.

“Someday.” Lacking any better options, Ronnie went with the truth. “Once I sort all this out.”

Tarin nodded, but Ronnie could not tell if that meant she found the answer satisfactory or knew it was the best she was going to get. Tarin waited a beat longer, as if there was more she wanted to say but could not find the words. Or if she expected Ronnie to offer something more, something profound that would make sense of all this chaos and trauma. When it wasn’t forthcoming, she nodded again silently without meeting Ronnie’s eyes and climbed into the limo. Ronnie fought back tears as she watched it pull away and vanish.

Why does escaping feel like losing? Is that where I should have left it? I guess I’ll never know. Ronnie knew she could find Tarin in the world if she set herself to it. She knew Tarin could do the same, but she also knew it would never happen. Despite joking about reconnecting with Mei and with Tarin on the outside, Ronnie knew: The wounds were too raw and too deep.

Ronnie moved back into the shade of the building and leaned against a wall to wait for her own ride. She was still standing there topless, no longer needing to work her nipples but also no longer particularly self-conscious about having her tits out either.

Damn it, I’m gonna turn into a stripper like my mom always thought I would be. Ronnie laughed at her private joke, but the suddenly powerful and perverse thoughts of having all those eyes on her body in the real world… well that was something to file away for later. For those expensive therapy sessions.

In her peripheral vision, Ronnie noticed Colt coming around the side of the hotel, riding a horse at a very slow walk towards the open desert. Her curiosity piqued, Ronnie took a quick look back at the road to confirm the limo wasn’t back yet, then she hustled off after him. Why? For an explanation? Closure? Ronnie couldn’t say.

“Colt! Colt! Wait up.” She called after him. He clicked his mouth, bringing the horse to a stop well ahead of her, then tipped his hat to her in his exaggerated, assholish way. He didn’t smile or curse, he simply offered her that small “courtesy.” Colt didn’t return to her or wait for her to follow, he placed the hat back on his head and turned to ride off into the desert alone.

“You think this makes you look like a fucking tragic hero or something?!” Ronnie called after him, though at this distance it was clearly for her sake and not his. “Fuck you, Colt! Fuck you and the horse you rode out on!”

Fucker won’t even give me the goddamn respect enough to look me in the face. Good riddance.

She spat into the dust and turned to walk the short distance back towards the hotel, taking in its hideous garishness for what she hoped would be the last time outside of a nightmare. Before she had made it back across the road, she was stopped by an ominous low rumbling sound coming from overhead. She shielded her eyes from the sun and looked up, confused by the sudden sound, as it was a pale blue cloudless sky as far as the eye could see.

There. Slowly she started to make out movement against that azure background, a small cloud shimmering into existence the same way the limo had. But it continued to grow, and spread, looking less like weather and more like a spreading corruption. The cloud darkened into a stormfront, and she could see rain begin to fall from it, the first she’d seen since the arrival.

Good. Flood the whole place. Old testament shit.

Shapes began to break off from the bottom of the cloud, splintering into individual shapes. They looked like… Cowboys? Spectral cowboys formed from those small masses, riding on equally ephemeral horses. Unlike Colt and his endless pretensions, this bunch seemed deadly serious. Even from a great distance Ronnie could see the grim looks on their faces. Despite looking like they could dissolve in a strong breeze, the group was tangible enough that Ronnie realized the rumbling was their hooves.

The posse, or whatever it was, swooped down from the sky in a large, lazy spiral to the ground and, to Ronnie’s panic, began riding straight at her.

“What the fuck?!!” She yelped and took off running after Colt, not really understanding why she did it at that moment. But he was familiar, even if he was the enemy, and - whatever the hell was coming - she suddenly didn’t want to face it alone.

Ronnie was in good shape but no one on foot can outrun horses, and the group continued to gain on her quickly. Colt’s horse was growing further in the distance, and she screamed to get him to turn back and see what was coming.

“Colt! Colt! PLEASE!”

Either he couldn’t hear or already knew what was after her, because he did not slow down. The thunder was pounding her ears, and Ronnie looked over her shoulder to see them nearly upon her. Seeing no other option to avoid being run down, Ronnie dove behind a large rock and curled up into a ball, expecting to feel … something … a ghostly hand grabbing her, a rope, a hoof to the back… Just the wave of water as the driving rainstorm passed over her, soaking her to the skin.

But the riders swept over and around her without touching her or stopping. It was only after she heard them receding in the distance that she was bold enough to open her eyes and look through trembling fingers. Colt was riding hell for leather now, but she could barely see him through the shimmering bodies of his pursuers. They all appeared to fade from view in a similar fashion to the way they arrived, and Ronnie slowly rose to her feet, her panic finally subsiding but only slightly.

Jesus, what did I unleash upon that man? Ronnie wasn’t sure if she could ever feel sorry for him, but she wouldn’t have chosen… whatever that was.

The group had disappeared from view, but the rumbling hadn’t fully subsided. Whatever was happening, Ronnie couldn’t see it from here and wouldn’t have wanted to. But before she could turn and start hauling ass back to the hotel, the clouds overtop of the riders stopped moving away but began to swirl and spiral like a forming tornado. Now she really knew she should run, but something kept her frozen to the spot. A need to see it through to the end, maybe. But abject terror was mixed in as well.

She felt a lightness to the air suddenly, as if the gravity was going out in a sci-fi movie. The clouds began to spin faster and faster, coalescing into a rapid blur until, all at once, what looked to be a dozen or more lightning bolts fired from all sides into a single spot below. The resulting boom sent a wave of dust and sand flying, powerful enough to knock Ronnie off her feet and back against the rock. The hit knocked the air from her lungs but also got her alert enough to spring right back up.

Ok, that’s enough, NOW fucking run!

Ronnie scrambled around the rock and tore off in the other direction back towards the hotel. Her heart was pounded in her ears again and her feet on the sand, but the silence of the desert had otherwise returned. Whatever happened out there was over, she hoped, but she did not want to be there to find out.

Ronnie smashed her way through the front doors back into the gaming area of the casino. I’m gonna find Al, and I’m gonna get the fuck out of here. They don’t need me any more, they can’t hold me any more. The room was still empty, but the low sounds of a piano echoed through the high-ceilinged space.

“Who…?” Ronnie asked out loud, but the music was coming from too far away for whomever to hear her. She followed the melody past the rows and rows of deserted machines and tables, and through the doors of the theater which had been propped open. The same theater where she’d been dragged out of bed and introduced to the “audience,” whoever the fuck they were, and to her supposed “Master.”

Inside, the stage had been cleared of the chairs and props from the opening night, and it was now dominated by a white concert-sized piano inlaid with gorgeous gold trim. Though the house lights were dim, the piano still sparkled and shone, reflecting light it could not have seen and playing notes that seemed too heavenly to be of this Earth. Ronnie’s fear ebbed away immediately, feeling like nothing scary could exist in the same space as something so beautiful. She moved silently up to the tables near the front of the stage and sat to listen.

Al gently worked his way through the concierto, taking a sip of his whiskey or an inhale of his cigar on the parts when only one hand was needed. He was so engrossed in playing that he hadn’t noticed Ronnie’s entry, and when she offered a small clap upon his finish, he whipped his head around in surprise.

“Rhonda.” He said, “How long you been sitting there?”

“Not long, I heard someone playing and followed the sound. I was surprised to find you, for sure.”

“I contain multitudes.” Al grinned.

“A Dylan fan?”

“Whitman actually, guy was kind of a prick but he made some good points.”

“Walt Whitman? How damned old are you?”

“Never any more youth or age than there is now, and will never be any more perfection than there is now.” Al didn’t answer, he simply took another sip of his drink.” Al took another sip of his drink. “Why didn’t you take the limo? Miss me too much?”

Only a moment of decency and we’re back.

“I saw Colt riding off somewhere and I followed him.”

“No sense in running from fate, but what do I know? I wasn’t my ass on the block.”

“I don’t know if he was running initially, it looked like he was heading somewhere. Don’t really know if its East since I have no idea what fuckin’ planet we’re on, but it was the direction of the sunrise. Then some damned cowboys came out of the clouds and ran him down. Nearly ran me down.”

Al’s eyebrow raised at that one, looking at her soaking wet and covered in sand, and he mumbled under his breath behind his tumbler. “Damn, Colt. Nostalgic to the end…” He offered his glass to the sky in a toast that carried more mockery than reverence, and downed the last of his drink.

“Should we worry?” Ronnie asked. “Are they coming back?”

“You can do whatever you please, but do I look worried?” Al rose from the bench and shut the lid over the keys. “Colt ‘hee’d’ his last ‘haw’ so they came to cancel him. Means this baby is mine now,” Al stroked the top of the white piano but he didn’t look at it as he spoke, instead he took in the whole auditorium with the pride of a new father. “Making them cowboys was a bit much even for me, but the Producers love their drama, don’t they?”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“Come on then. You missed the last limo, so follow me.” Al sounded somehow… lighter than he had before. Didn’t I just put him out of a job? What the hell else can this gremlin do?

“Can’t you just call it back?”

“No, I told ya, no host no host magic. We’re gonna take the back way, don’t worry about it.” Al saying it naturally made Ronnie worry that much more. Al walked to the back of the stage and drew small patterns on a door there before opening it onto what looked like a damp, darkened alley. He gestured for her to come through, but Ronnie hesitated - as any sensible person would before heading down a dark alley with Al. “You comin’? Set’s empty now so unless you really love Solitaire and starving, you’d better get a move on.”

Ronnie swallowed heavily and pushed down her fear enough to head through the door. As soon as she had, Al closed it behind her.

She had emerged, unsurprisingly, into a damp, darkened alley. Ronnie felt heat and humidity descend upon her, even in what was clearly the middle of the night. A streetlight and a neon sign were near the end of the alley, but each offset enough not to illuminate it well. It was enough to reveal a heavy fog settled over wherever they were and the deserted streets beyond. Off the alley, a door marked “STAGE ENTRANCE” was propped open, leading into a staircase and up to a space where brass instruments could be heard.

Ignoring that, Ronnie ran towards the end of the alley, to the street and freedom, but once she reached it the fog seemed much, much thicker than she’d expected. She couldn’t even read the street sign on the opposite corner through the fog, but its shape and color were unmistakable.

“New Orleans?!? Goddamn it Al, I haven’t lived here in years!” She complained to the empty alley, then petulantly kicked over a trash can over. Fuck it, at least I’m back in the world. Ronnie took a deep breath of the humid air, which after the bone dry desert and the air conditioning of the Hotel felt very liberating.

Ronnie tried walking a ways down the street, staying within the light from the single working streetlamp and the club sign. But none of the street names she could read were familiar, and even for a native, New Orleans wasn’t a city she really wanted to be wandering at night. Nothing else seemed open and no one else seemed out and about, so her best chance at a phone and Michael was back at the same nightclub off the alley where she’d been dropped off.

Just my damn luck to be this close and still so far, but what else can I do?

She went up through the stage door, emerging from the back of a second-story music club that was small, intimate, and absolutely wall-to-wall packed. Ronnie was shorter than the crowd, so she couldn’t see the whole of the room, but she could hear a pretty decent jazz quintet giving it their all. They were missing a singer though, and their music almost sounded like it was looping. As if they were in a holding pattern for that signer to arrive and hit a cue. Play music critic later.

The crowd close enough to see her gave her cold, dead stares as she entered, and it was only then that she remembered she was still topless and looked like she’d rolled off a fetid beach.

“Shit!” She covered herself with both arms. “Sorry, sorry! Hey, I don’t mean to bother anyone at the show, but any of you kind folks got a cell I can borrow?” None of them gave a response, just those dead stares. “Uh, thanks for nothing. I’ll just ask at the bar then. Lay off the absinthe.” She made her way through the crowd, apologizing by rote for every person she bumped into and every foot she stepped on, but aside from those unsettling stares, no one returned her apologies, offered her a phone when she asked, or even spoke at all. The band’s good but it ain’t that good. Jeez, creepy fuckers in here.

Ronnie was exhausted from her sleepless night and her frantic sprints at the Hotel, so she was panting deeply and somewhat bleary-eyed when she finally shouldered her way to the bar. The bartender had his back to her and was thoroughly cleaning the glassware. He’s got a whole rack of clean glasses right there, but who knows? I’m not in the bar business.

“Hey! Hey! You gotta phone?” She called to him, but he was even less responsive then the rest. He wouldn’t even turn and look at her. “Man I hope your tips fucking suck, pal.”

Goddamn. Fine.

Ronnie climbed onto the bar, lifting her high enough that she could see his eyes in the mirror mounted behind it. “Will this get your attention?” Ronnie pulled her hands open and flashed her tits at him, which was at least enough to get him to turn around.

“Phone?”

The man pointed, but not to the wall, to a well-dressed black man sitting at the end of the bar and watching the stage. Her bullshit limit having been reached, she simply walked along the bar, kicking drinks off as she went, not bothering to apologize this time or even to cover herself back up. The patrons kept on with the staring but didn’t get angry.

“Ahhh, hello. Welcome to my club.” The black man said as he turned to look up at her. His creole accent was thick, though the kind of guy who would wear a maroon suit with a black pocket square and have multiple gold teeth poking through his smile could only have been a local regardless. His skin was coal black, causing the whites of his eyes to pop out against it like an animal watching from the shadows. He offered her a hand to help her down from the bar, which seemed like a remarkable act of grace as Ronnie currently looked and felt like an escaped swamp monster.

Ronnie took his offered hand on instinct, but after she climbed down, the man took it to his mouth and kissed her knuckle like a cheesy movie. “My name is Marcel, mon chérie.” Ronnie regained her senses and yanked her hand back from his grasp, though he didn’t break his smile or seem to hold it against her in the slightest.

“I appreciate the gesture,” Ronnie said insincerely, “but I’ve had one hell of time the last few weeks.” Ronnie leaned in so she could not be misheard over the music. “I need a phone to call my husband, a cab to the airport, and a fucking shirt.” She cocked her head and batted her eyelashes mockingly. “That is, if you really want to treat a lady right.”

“I can only imagine what you ’ave ‘ad to deal with.” Marcel laughed at her appearnce. “But unfortunately, the phone only works with BP, and you ‘ave none.”

“I don’t really know or care what BP are, can you just loan me some?”

“Loan?” He laughed again, setting Ronnie’s nerves on edge. “Only your casino set is foolish enough to offer loans.”

“My… casino set?” Ronnie was barely able to stammer. “There’s more than one?!”

“Of course! You think a show like ours would settle for one?” Marcel smiled like he was addressing an idiot child, while Ronnie’s stomach felt like it was crashing through the floor. Ours. OURS. What did I fucking do!? “But they are still so ‘ard to get, poor Al waited so, so long for Colt to move on. And the ol’ boy never did. He had to take thinks into ‘is own ‘ands.”

Ronnie tried to back away, but the crowd closed ranks behind her, blocking her path.

“I… won’t say a damn thing to anyone! Ever! Not even Michael. I don’t care if he divorces me over it, I will never tell him where I was. I swear on God.” Ronnie clasped her hands to beg. She would have literally dropped to her knees if her legs were still under her control. “Just let me go home, please…”

“I don’t think so,” His smile changed ever so slightly, just the tiniest twitch in the muscles around his lips. But it turned it from the plastic smile of a salesman to the last thing a girl sees in a slasher movie. “Al asked me to ‘elp, and I did, but I don’t work free.” He held up two fingers towards the stage and waved for someone to approach.

A woman appeared first, a leggy blonde in a tight dress who gave Ronnie a huge smile over pearly white teeth. But it was her eyes that took Ronnie’s soul away. Big blue accusatory eyes.

Tarin.

“Marcel?” She asked, never looking away from Ronnie. A man emerged from the crowd behind her, in a three-piece black suit with a trilby perched on his bald head.

Silas.

“She’s got the look, you think?” Marcel asked. “A good foundation.”

Silas and Tarin nodded in unison. At a small nod from the host, the two grabbed Ronnie’s arms and began frogmarching her towards the stage. The crowd parted this time, and the band played on.

“Look, I had no idea. I had no idea!” Ronnie begged them, but they were no more receptive than Marcel was. “Tarin! Come on, girl! Don’t play their games! You and me can make a run for it! This set’s based on my hometown, there’s got to be a way out and I can find it!”

The pair had nothing to say to that. When they reached the low stage, Tarin and Silas threw Ronnie onto it with strength she didn’t know they possessed.

“Someone… help-” Ronnie looked up into the faces of the band. Phoebe on bass. Gwen on drums. Louise on piano. Tiffany on trombone…

Ronnie saw a hand reach down to help her up, and looked up into the smiling face of Mei on saxophone.

They were waiting for the singer.

Ronnie took the offered hand and rose to her feet, finding herself looking out over a stand microphone to a roomful of expectant faces. The unsettling stares, she realized far, far too late, were because she was missing her cue.

The five girls playing behind her looped back around into the beginning of the song, and despite not wanting to do it more than she’d not wanted to do anything before, Ronnie took the mic in her hand and felt it’s power - the Hotel’s power - push its way through her again.

From across the room, she felt Marcel’s fingers as if he was molding her like a clay doll. No, it was more than that. Deeper. More than just re-shaping her, it felt like they were re-building a new person on top of her. She felt her arms and legs lengthening, her perspective changing as she rose several inches and now loomed over the crowd. Ronnie shut her eyes and prayed it would stop, but it didn’t. Her modest-sized but bare tits swelled to match this new bombshell body. Her hair curls fell limp, straightening out down her body. Her lips plumped and curled into a smirk. She felt the sand fall from her body and the remainder of her clothes dissolve, reforming around her into a long evening dress.

Her eyes opened. But Ronnie didn’t open them. “Someone” jumped in front of her consciousness, taking away the controls to her own body. She could see the crowd through the tiny portals she was allowed to the outside, and they were now excited and eager to hear her. She felt this intruder smile back at them, swaying her hips slowly as the band built to her cue.

When she opened her mouth to sing, Ronnie couldn’t recognize the voice that came out. They’d taken everything and changed it so much that she couldn’t be sure it was really her any more. Somehing new. Something different. Something no longer Ronnie Clark.

“Aaaaaaaattt lasssssssst! My loooooove has come alooonnnnnng!” She began, to the raucous applause of her new cellmates.