Eden stepped into the grand room, her eyes widening as she took in the luxury around her. The space was bathed in a soft, golden glow from the chandelier that hung above, its crystals shimmering like tiny stars. The walls were adorned with rich, dark velvet drapes and intricate gold accents, creating an air of regal sophistication. A grand four-poster bed sat at the center, draped in layers of luxurious fabrics in deep reds and blacks, with pillows that looked as if they belonged to royalty.

A large window overlooked the sprawling grounds, rain cascading down the glass, adding an ethereal charm to the scene. A plush seating area with ornate chairs and a gilded table sat near the hearth, where a fire crackled warmly. The scent of roses and sandalwood lingered faintly in the air, adding to the room's welcoming allure.

Magenta followed Eden, her lips curling into a small, knowing smile as she observed Eden's awe. "Dr. Frank-N-Furter insisted that only the finest be prepared for you," she said, her voice tinged with amusement. "He wanted to ensure your stay is... memorable."

Eden turned to her, her expression a mixture of gratitude and curiosity. "It's beautiful. I don't know what I did to deserve such treatment, but... thank you. And thank Dr. Frank-N-Furter as well."

Magenta's smile widened, her sharp eyes gleaming with interest. "Perhaps it's not about what you've done, but simply who you are, Eden."

Eden moved toward the bed, running her fingers over the soft fabric. "It feels like a dream," she admitted softly. "I've never been in a place like this."

Magenta stepped closer, folding her hands in front of her. "Enjoy it," she said, her tone gentle yet firm. "You're not like the others, Eden. You deserve a room fit for a queen."

Eden turned back to Magenta, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Thank you, Magenta. For everything."

Magenta gave a slight bow of her head, the faintest hint of a genuine smile playing on her lips. "It's my pleasure. If you need anything, call for me." She hesitated momentarily before adding, "I hope we can talk more later. I think... we could get along quite well."

Eden nodded, her warm smile breaking through. "I'd like that."

As Magenta left the room, Eden sat on the edge of the bed, her gaze sweeping over the lavish surroundings again. It was unlike anything she'd ever experienced—overwhelming and oddly comforting. Yet, a part of her couldn't shake the feeling that she was at the center of something much more significant, something she didn't yet understand.

Riff Raff entered the dimly lit study where Magenta and Frank were waiting. Magenta leaned casually against the edge of a dark oak desk while Frank reclined in a plush chair, swirling a glass of red wine. The flickering firelight cast dramatic shadows across their faces, adding to the intensity of the conversation they were about to have.

"Ah, Riff Raff," Frank drawled, glancing up with a smirk. "Have you finally finished playing doorkeeper to our... unexpected guests?"

Riff Raff's expression remained serious, his pale eyes darting toward Magenta before settling on Frank. "I've escorted them to their rooms," he began, his voice low and deliberate. "But I must express my concerns, particularly about those two ordinary humans, Brad and Janet."

Magenta arched an eyebrow, her interest piqued. "What about them?" she asked, folding her arms. "Aside from being dreadfully dull."

Riff Raff hesitated, his gaze flicking briefly to the floor before he continued. "Janet is envious of Eden. It's written all over her face and practically drips from her tone when she speaks of her. She tries to mask it, but it's there. And Brad..." His lips curled into a faint sneer. "He may be oblivious to Janet's true feelings, but he's far too fixated on Eden himself."

Frank chuckled, setting his glass down with a dramatic flourish. "Well, who wouldn't be? Eden is... exquisite. A radiant anomaly in their sea of mediocrity."

"Precisely," Riff Raff said, his tone sharpening. "And that's the problem. Eden is different. She doesn't belong in their mundane little world. And I won't have them spoiling her experience here. Janet, especially. Her jealousy could cause trouble."

Magenta tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. "You've taken quite an interest in her, haven't you, Riff Raff?" she teased, though her voice held no malice.

Riff Raff stiffened slightly but didn't deny it. "Eden is... intriguing," he admitted. "She's kind, curious, and perceptive. She deserves better than Janet's petty insecurities or Brad's naïve affections."

Frank leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he regarded Riff Raff with a knowing smile. "Protective, are we? How utterly charming. Though I must admit, you're not wrong." His gaze shifted, momentarily distant as he seemed to calculate. "Eden is a gem, and I intend to see her shine. Perhaps even brighter under my guidance."

Riff Raff's jaw tightened, but he remained silent, his posture tense.

Magenta, sensing the brewing tension, decided to intervene. "It sounds like we all agree on one thing: Eden's presence here is... special. If she's to stay, we should ensure her comfort and enjoyment. And if Brad and Janet become a problem..." She trailed off, her smile turning wicked. "We'll deal with them."

Frank leaned back, clearly pleased. "Precisely, my dear Magenta. Eden is the star of this little production, and nothing will overshadow her. Riff Raff," he said, gesturing dismissively, "keep an eye on our dear ordinary guests. If they step out of line, inform me immediately."

Riff Raff nodded, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "Of course, Master."

As he turned to leave, Frank called after him with a smirk. "And do try to keep your feelings in check, Riff Raff. It wouldn't do for you to become too... attached."

Riff Raff stiffened but didn't respond, disappearing into the shadows of the hallway. Magenta watched him go, her expression unreadable, before turning back to Frank with a sly smile. "This should be interesting."

"Oh, darling," Frank purred, raising his glass again. "It already is."

In the dimly lit guest room, Janet paced back and forth, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. The ornate decor felt suffocating with its dark velvet curtains and gilded furniture. Every creak and groan of the castle seemed to mock her unease. She stopped by the tall mirror, frowning at her reflection as frustration bubbled to the surface.

"How ridiculous," she muttered to herself. "They act like Eden's some... goddess. It's absurd. She's just—she's just Eden."

Her voice wavered slightly, and she clenched her fists. The sting of being overshadowed by Eden yet again felt all too familiar. The attention Eden garnered at their friend's wedding was one thing, but this? Janet had never felt so invisible.

Meanwhile, in the room down the hall, Brad leaned back in the plush armchair, his jacket draped over the backrest. Unlike Janet, he found the castle more intriguing than unsettling. Sure, the people here were eccentric—Frank mainly—but the sheer uniqueness of it all fascinated him.

He couldn't help but think about Eden, though. She had always been someone he admired, even if his feelings for her had long since been reined in. He glanced toward the window, hearing the rain patter against the glass. The way everyone gravitated toward Eden didn't surprise him; she had a warmth about her, a presence that naturally drew people in.

As if on cue, Janet's voice rang faintly through the walls. Brad sighed, realizing she must still be venting. He pushed himself up from the chair, debating whether to check on her or give her space.

In her room, Janet sank onto the edge of the bed, her thoughts spiraling. Why does it always have to be her? she thought bitterly. She remembered how Frank looked at Eden and how Riff Raff and Magenta practically hung on her every word. Even Brad had defended her earlier.

She scowled at the memory, her voice a whisper as she muttered, "It's not fair."

Brad hesitated at her door, hearing the faint sound of her voice. He knocked softly. "Janet? Are you okay?"

Janet was startled slightly before standing and opening the door. "I'm fine," she said quickly, her tone clipped.

Brad frowned. "You don't sound fine. What's going on?"

Janet stepped back, letting him in. "It's just... this whole situation is weird, Brad. This castle, these people... the way they act around Eden. Doesn't it bother you?"

Brad scratched the back of his neck, unsure how to answer. "I mean, yeah, it's strange. But Eden's always had that effect on people. She's just... nice, you know?"

Janet's jaw tightened. "Nice," she echoed, her voice laced with sarcasm. "Of course. She's perfect, isn't she?"

Brad sighed. "Janet, come on. This isn't about Eden. We're in a castle in the middle of nowhere and must ride this out. Let's not make this into something it's not."

Janet looked away, her arms crossing again. "Maybe you're right," she murmured, though the bitterness in her tone lingered.

Brad gave her a small, reassuring smile. "Get some rest, okay? Tomorrow's a new day."

She nodded reluctantly as he left, but her thoughts returned to Eden once the door closed. She thought darkly that tomorrow might be a new day, but nothing changed.

Eden's room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a single lamp casting warm light over the regal furnishings. She wandered, her fingertips brushing over the intricate carvings of the dresser and the silk canopy draped over the bed. Her thoughts were a whirlwind, and she sought a way to ground herself in the unfamiliar surroundings.

In one corner of the room, her eyes landed on a vintage phonograph and a small collection of vinyl records stacked neatly beside it. Her lips curved into a soft smile as she knelt to sift through the collection. She selected one that looked promising—its cover adorned with swirling colors and delicate script.

Placing the record on the player, she cranked it gently and lowered the needle. A gentle crackle filled the room, followed by a slow, melodic tune that sent shivers down her spine. Without thinking, she closed her eyes, swaying slightly to the rhythm, and began to sing.

Her voice was soft at first, a whisper carrying on the melody. But as she grew more comfortable, it gained strength, her rich, velvety tones filling the room. The song poured from her like water from a spring, effortless and full of emotion. It was haunting, mesmerizing, and deeply intimate—her soul laid bare in each note.

What Eden didn't know was that her voice had caught the attention of someone outside her door.

Frank had decided to check in on her, a glass of wine in hand, intending to ensure her comfort. As he reached the threshold, he paused, her voice freezing him in place. His eyes widened slightly, his usual flamboyant smirk giving way to a look of genuine intrigue.

The melody wove around him, each note pulling him deeper under its spell. There was something otherworldly about it—like the call of a Siren luring sailors to their doom, yet it held no malice. Instead, it was raw, vulnerable, and achingly beautiful.

Frank leaned against the doorframe, letting the haunting song envelop him. For the first time in a long while, he found himself wholly captivated, his usual flamboyant bravado replaced by quiet reverence.

His mind raced. Who is this woman, really? He'd always prided himself on understanding people, reading them like open books, but Eden? She was a mystery he hadn't yet solved. And now, with this voice—a gift she kept hidden—she seemed even more extraordinary.

As the song ended, the room fell silent except for the gentle crackle of the record player. Frank straightened, adjusting his robe. He didn't step into the room just yet. Instead, he took a moment to collect himself, knowing that the Eden he'd come to check on was far more complex and fascinating than he had ever anticipated.

Eden's relaxation was like a warm blanket wrapping around her after her song had dissolved the tension she'd carried. The gentle crackle of the vinyl was still audible, the needle having reached the end of the record. She sighed contentedly, a rare moment of peace washing over her.

A soft knock at the door broke the spell. She blinked, momentarily startled, before regaining her composure. Adjusting the hem of her nightgown and brushing her hair back with her fingers, she made her way to the door, her bare feet padding silently across the plush carpet.

When she opened the door, Frank greeted her, leaning casually against the frame, his lips curling into his signature smirk. His dark eyes held a glint of something unfamiliar—an intensity that made Eden pause.

"Doctor," she greeted softly, tilting her head slightly, her tone polite but curious. "Is something the matter?"

Frank chuckled lightly, waving a dismissive hand. "Oh, darling, not at all. I merely thought I'd check in and ensure everything is to your liking." His gaze drifted briefly over her, then back to her face. "But I must admit, I wasn't expecting such... enchanting company tonight."

Eden blinked, not quite understanding. "Enchanting?"

He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. "Your voice, my dear. I heard it from the hall. Mesmerizing. A Siren's call, if ever I've heard one." He studied her reaction, intrigued by how she would respond.

Eden's cheeks flushed, and she looked away, suddenly self-conscious. "Oh, that... I didn't realize anyone could hear me. I only sing when I'm alone." Her hand gripped the edge of the door, her usual confidence momentarily shaken.

Frank's smirk softened into something more genuine. "Well, consider me fortunate to have been an unintentional audience. You have a gift, Eden. One you shouldn't hide."

She met his gaze again, her nerves easing slightly under his unexpected sincerity. "Thank you, Doctor. That means a lot."

"Please, call me Frank," he corrected, his tone warm and inviting. "And if there's anything you need—anything at all—don't hesitate to ask. Your comfort here is my utmost priority."

Eden nodded, a small smile forming on her lips. "Thank you, Frank. I'll keep that in mind."

Frank stepped back with a final, lingering look, his usual flamboyance tempered by genuine intrigue. "Sweet dreams, Eden," he said, turning to leave.

Eden watched him disappear down the hall, her thoughts swirling. She hadn't expected this night to hold so many surprises, least of all the unexpected kindness of her enigmatic host. She closed the door and leaned against it, her heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time.

Riff Raff paced his dimly lit bedroom, his thoughts consumed by Eden. How she carried herself—calm, composed, yet mysterious—haunted his mind. She wasn't like the other humans who stumbled into the castle; she belonged here in a way that defied logic.

He suddenly stopped, his eyes darting to the small mirror on the wall. His reflection stared back, disheveled yet energized, his usual stoic demeanor cracking under the weight of something foreign—an infatuation, a pull he couldn't name.

A smile curled on his lips as a melody began to form in his head, one laced with rebellion, passion, and yearning. It erupted from his chest in a voice that wavered between a whisper and a growl:

"I wanna be your slave, I wanna be your master..."

The words poured out as he began to move, his slim frame twisting and turning with an uncharacteristic grace. He spun around, his steps wild and uninhibited, caught in a trance that only Eden seemed capable of evoking.

"I wanna make your heartbeat run like rollercoasters..."

His voice grew louder and more confident as he imagined her face. Those eyes seemed to see more than she let on. Her calm presence both comforted and unsettled him.

"I love you since this afternoon, not just for aesthetics..."

Riff Raff reached out to the air as if she were there, just out of reach. His movements became more erratic, his voice taking on a desperate edge.

"I wanna make you quiet, I wanna make you nervous..."

He stopped abruptly, gripping the edge of his dresser, his head bowed. His shoulders heaved as he stared at the floor, a small, breathless laugh escaping his lips. This human had done what no one else ever could—she'd awakened something in him—something raw.

Riff Raff's fingers drummed against the wood, the song's refrain still on his lips. He glanced at the mirror again, his reflection grinning back, unrecognizable.

"I'm a monster who's searching for redemption..."

He straightened, his resolve hardening. Whatever this feeling was, he wouldn't ignore it. Eden was more than just another visitor to this castle. She was different. She was his.

And he wouldn't let anyone or anything jeopardize that.

Magenta paused as she walked past Riff Raff's room, her curiosity piqued by the muffled sound of a singing voice and her brother's uncharacteristic movements. Carefully, she pushed the door open just a crack, her crimson eyes narrowing as she peered inside.

What she saw left her momentarily stunned.

Riff Raff, the stoic, sharp-tongued man she knew better than anyone, was singing enthusiastically, his voice trembling with raw emotion. His slight frame moved with a rhythm she'd never seen before, a strange grace woven into his usually awkward mannerisms. His reflection in the mirror bore an expression she couldn't quite place—was it longing? Joy?

Magenta stifled a gasp as she listened to the lyrics he belted out:

"I wanna be your slave, I wanna be your master..."

She leaned closer, her dark hair falling over her shoulder as she studied him. This wasn't the Riff Raff she grew up with. This was someone... changed.

Then it hit her. Eden.

Eden, the mysterious mortal who had wandered into their bizarre world and somehow disrupted its balance. Eden carried herself with an elegance and curiosity that even Magenta had to admit was captivating.

Magenta's lips curved into a knowing smirk as she continued to watch. It was undeniable. The mortal had done something no one else could—she'd softened Riff Raff. She'd touched something in him that even Magenta couldn't fathom.

Pulling back, Magenta let the door close silently, her mind racing. She tapped her fingers against her arm as she leaned against the wall outside.

"So, brother," she muttered, "you've been caught in her web too."

Her smirk deepened, and a glint of mischief sparkled in her eyes. This was going to be... interesting.

Magenta stepped into her room, the soft click of the door behind her marking a moment of solitude. She leaned against it, her mind swirling with thoughts of the day's unexpected twists. A low chuckle escaped her lips as she crossed the room, her fingers trailing absently along the edge of her vanity.

Eden.

Magenta had never thought much of humans before—fragile, predictable creatures who barely scratched the surface of intrigue. And yet, this one... this Eden was different. She carried herself with an unspoken confidence and a quiet magnetism that seemed to ripple through the castle, disrupting their once-predictable dynamic.

Magenta flopped onto her bed, staring at the ceiling with a sly smile.

In just one day, Eden unknowingly drew Frank and Riff Raff into her orbit. Frank, with his theatrical charm and insatiable hunger for control, now seemed captivated by someone he couldn't quite pin down. Her ever-cynical brother, Riff Raff, behaved in ways Magenta would have never imagined. Singing? Dancing? Riff Raff?

And Eden didn't even realize what she was doing.

Magenta propped herself up on her elbows, her grin deepening. "She doesn't know," she muttered to herself. "Doesn't even realize she's turned this place into her stage."

The thought lingered, sparking her curiosity further. There had to be more to Eden than met the eye. Humans didn't have this effect—not on their kind.

"Maybe," Magenta mused aloud, "she's not entirely human."

It wasn't impossible. Perhaps somewhere in her ancestry, there was a touch of alien DNA, some forgotten lineage that had left its mark in subtle but undeniable ways. It would explain her otherworldly allure, her ability to navigate their eccentric world easily.

Magenta sat up, her expression thoughtful. She decided she'd keep a closer eye on Eden, not out of suspicion but out of fascination. If there was a mystery to unravel, she wanted to be the one to solve it.

And in the meantime, she'd enjoy the show.

Frank stood before the glass tank in the dim glow of his laboratory, his hands resting lightly on its edge as he gazed at the creature within. His grand experiment, Rocky Horror, was suspended in a thick, viscous solution that shimmered faintly under the overhead lights. The creature was nearly complete—a figure of sculpted perfection, a masterpiece born of Frank's genius.

But as Frank studied his creation, a thought crept into his mind, unbidden yet persistent: Rocky Horror was meant to be perfect, but Eden surpassed perfection.

He turned away from the tank, pacing the room with deliberate steps. His satin robe swayed with his movement, the train brushing against the polished floor. Eden had arrived in his world unexpectedly, a mortal with an inexplicable air of regality and allure that left even the great Dr. Frank-N-Furter enthralled.

"She's magnificent," he murmured, his voice tinged with awe. "Unplanned, unforeseen, and yet... everything I could have imagined and more."

Frank's gaze flickered back to the tank, his expression contemplative. Perhaps Rocky was the pinnacle of his craftsmanship, but Eden was untouchable, with a natural beauty and elegance that could never be replicated.

The thought of introducing her to his creation both excited and unnerved him. What would she think of Rocky? Would she marvel at his brilliance, or would she see through to the flaws he tried so desperately to hide?

Frank let out a low laugh, shaking his head. "What am I doing, seeking her approval?" he mused. "I've never needed validation from anyone."

And yet, he couldn't deny the thrill that coursed through him at the thought of her reaction. If anyone could truly appreciate his work, it would be her. She was different—curious, perceptive, and undeniably captivating.

Returning to the tank, he placed a hand against the glass, his smile curling with anticipation. "Soon," he whispered. "Soon, my dear Rocky. You'll be ready, and then... we'll see what Eden thinks of you."

For the first time in his career, Frank wasn't simply creating to prove his genius. He was creating with the faint, unexpected hope of impressing someone. And that, he realized, made all the difference.