Chapter Text
Dear Diary,
Yesterday, I was buying a pink dress with a nice white collar and flower shaped buttons at the department store. Now, that dress is probably lying somewhere on the ground in this godforsaken place. Forgotten, like my dignity.
I remember when Brad gave me that ring, and how tightly I held it. My future. The most important thing in the world to me.
The ring fell off at some point last night.
Diary, have I also lost my future? Please, tell me what to do. I could run. I could run right now, run away from this castle and drag Brad along with me.
That’s ridiculous. They would catch us.
I’m stupid.
This is all just stupid. Looking back on that day is like looking at a childhood photo; a better time that seems like both yesterday and a million years ago. I keep asking for help, but if there was a God, how did all of this happen?
This isn’t even really you, diary. I’m writing in the copyright section of a book I found by the entryway. "The Curious Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde”. Maybe it’ll serve as some amusement for the ride, but I don’t think I’ll lack amusement being piled into a minivan with a Transvestite mad scientist and his accolades.
And Brad. Sweet, sensitive Bradley J. Majors who were never rowdy or brutish like the other guys on the football team. Diary, did I tell you how much of a nervous wreck he was when we first started going steady? Betty told me that Ralph had to spend hours with him practicing how to ask me to Senior Prom. Can you believe he’d never had a date before? And now…
I would cry, diary, I really would. But Brad’s already doing that. It’s very strange; I’ve almost become the man of our pair. I’ve dried his tears, I’ve answered his silly questions. I’ve done everything he should be doing for me.
I don’t know why I expected him to stand up for us or himself, he’s never been the type.
Pop has always said there was something wrong with Brad. I would always shrug it off. I suppose I thought he was just more artistic or thoughtful. But maybe he was a homosexual from the beginning. Maybe he never loved me at all.
As I write this, they’re loading the van. Trying to load, at the least. Frank’s making a of a fuss, and Columbia is “Helping”.
Janet closed her makeshift “Diary” and slid it into her bag. The book fit with ease. There wasn’t much in there, after all, just some bits of clothing and hygiene items.
The same could not be said for Frank, who was in a quickly-escalating spat with the servants.
“Master, zhese veigh more zhan zhe vechile itself.” Frank crossed his arms, sulking.
“It’s not my fault we weren’t provided with adequate transportation. Besides, it’s none of your concern.” The domestic leaned closer to him.
“If ve didn’t have to keep up appearances for zhese earthlings, your frivolous shit would be in zhe garbage. And you vouldn’t be able to seduce zhem effectively in full uniform, vould you?”
Frank sharply turned away from her.
“Magenta. Load the trunk. With all of my very precious cargo.”
Nothing.
“MAGENTA. Load the trunk.”
She picked up a suitcase. “Vhat’s even in here?”
“Various forms of entertainment.” He winked. Magenta tossed it to the side.
“Aughh. You pick that up ri -” Before Frank could finish, she picked up another.
“And zhis vone?”
“Assorted perfumes. In glass bottles, mind you.” The suitcase hit the ground, Frank flinched.
“Zhis?”
“That one actually has a very, very expensive Afghan coat in it, so if you would please-”
Tossed.
“Decorations?”
Tossed.
“Playboy magazine issues #24-#53?”
Tossed.
“French literature?”
Tossed.
“My….playthings?”
“Zhose can stay.”
Frank was growing more and more agitated by the second. Noticing this, Magenta let a small grin form on her face. “If you vant to bring it, pack it yourself, you spoiled son of a bitch.”
“Tsk, tsk tsk, the Queen won’t be happy that you referred to her that way.” Frank shot a glare at Magenta, and a few moments later, sauntered over to the pile of luggage and began heaving the suitcases one by one into the trunk.
“Hold on just one moment…” He clasped his hands together. “Rocky, now’s the time to put your excellent physique to work.”
But Rocky didn’t put his excellent physique to work. Instead, he continued busying himself with pulling weeds out of the grass in front of the castle.
“Rocky, did you hear me? I’m going to count down from ten. When I reach one…”
Quickly, Rocky began gathering every stem he pulled into a sort of bouquet.
“Oh, it’s a primitive gift, but I appreciate the effort. You’re supposed to be assisting me with..”
Rocky handed the bundle to Janet, who would’ve accepted it before seeing Frank’s face and realizing she’d rather not risk becoming the Transylvanian's next meal.