Television Romance

Princeton

Vian felt a bit like a Jane Austen character stepping into a ballroom when she entered the bullpen. The walls seemed to stretch up a little higher. The space, emptied of many of its chairs and tables, felt bigger. She clung to Richard's arm. She felt exposed. She was exposed, in a manner of speaking. Her toga was a white tank top around which she had secured an old sheet. Not exactly, scandalous, it was more skin than she usually showed at work. Her tank top had a cute embroidered heart courtesy of Theodore. He had assured her he could remove it after the party, but she kind of liked it. She felt like a Boy Scout collecting badges. Something to remember this day by. It was important because she could already feel the weeks sliding into each other, overlapping and slipping away. And she hadn't even been at LTV a year.

"Hephaestus, right?" asked Michael.

"Jesus Christ," Vian ejected, "Where did you come from?"

"I work here," he deadpanned.

"Hey! I told you people would get it," Richard said excitedly. He had been worried no one could understand his costume, a store-bought toga and a store-bought hammer acting jointly to signify the god of blacksmiths, and craftsmen.

"Yeah, I took a couple of Greek mythology classes in college," Michael said. He turned to Vian, "Aphrodite?"

"Mhm." Vian was starting to sympathize with Bill's dislike. Richard, on the other hand, seemed intrigued.

"Where'd you go to college?" Michael asked.

"Columbia. You? You look like Dartmouth to me."

"Close, I was Princeton."

"Ah, a New Hampshire man."

"Columbia, huh? I was there visiting a friend for Orgo Night. I didn't know anything was going to happen until the whole marching band shoved into the library."

"Lucky you. Man, McDermott's curve was something nasty."

"McDermott? I think that's who my friend had."

What's happening to my life? Vian thought, clinging to Richard's arm.

"Sorry, man, I didn't catch your name," Richard said and stuck out a hand to shake. Vian cringed, remembering her awkward first moments at LTV before she realized no one shook hands here. Much to her surprise, however, Michael grabbed Richard's hand easily, which somehow made her more uncomfortable.

"Michael."

"Oh! Michael, of course. I'm Richard." Michael shot a glance at Vian. She went to smooth her hair with her free hand before remembering it was tied up in an elaborate braided updo.

"The lawyer," Michael said.

"That's me."

A brief subtextual conversation followed, obvious to everyone but Richard.

You talk about me?

Shut up.

What did you tell him?

Shut up.

Richard was still talking when Vian refocused on the audible. She tactfully cut him off and suggested they move towards the others. It was a calculated move; she figured if they moved close enough to Bill, Michael would disappear.

"Vee!" Juliet exclaimed as they drew closer.

"I'll be right back," Bill said and walked off. So much for that. Vian looked after him wistfully and watched as he almost crashed directly into a man wearing a huge white top hat. He had a stark white goatee and a red bowtie. Wait, Vian thought to herself, I know that guy.

"Is that?" Sadie started.

"What are you supposed to be?" Michael asked Sam as he stepped to fill the hole Bill had left.

"Santa Claus?" Juliet guessed.

"What? No!"

"Gandalf," Vian ventured.

"No, no, guys," Jerry said, "He's clearly Papa smurf." Sam straightened his bowtie with exasperation.

"No, I'm Uncle Sam! From the posters!" He pointed for effect.

"Captain America?" Sadie asked.

"The Kentucky Fried Chicken guy," Richard said, and everyone murmured in agreement. Vian felt a flash of pride on his behalf and held his arm a little tighter. She leaned toward Vian to whisper in her ear.

"I didn't know Michael went to Columbia."

"He didn't. I think he went to the University of Wisconsin." Of course. Vian laughed in spite of herself.

"You guys are the worst," Sam complained.

"Maybe it's just your costume," Jerry said flatly.

"My costume is the best costume. You all look like you're trying to smuggle as much merchandise out of a mattress store as possible." His hat flopped dopily to the side.

"Best costume? That's definitely Hugo," Juliet said.

Vian scanned the room. Mia and Elizabeth were pirates. Other groups of writers were superheroes or the characters from The Breakfast Club. There was a small herd of cows by the kitchenette. Best of all, Greg was dressed in a waitress costume, roller skating around with ease, giving notes on the performance.

"Who's he supposed to be? Hermes? Where'd he get the wine glass?" Sam asked. Hugo was having a conversation with a prop mummy, swirling a glass of red pretentiously.

"It's part of the costume. He's... Something with a 'D.' Dino- Diagon- Michael, help me out here."

"Dionysus."

"Yeah. That one."

"And he's the god of wine?" Vian asked. Michael had the answer again:

"Yes, but also religious ecstasy, theatre, and ritual madness."

"Oh yeah, that's definitely Hugo."