Our lead spent the day wandering around the town and its sudden influx of people. It was by no means bustling, but the theater had workers, he saw several of them out in the town during the day, and even a few non-theater shops were open. Nobody gave any indication that they were ever not open. Or that they were trapped in a nightmare town that would consume them all.
Spending his day alternating between watching the people and reading his script, our lead heads back to the diner for an early supper. He enters and sees a new waitress at the counter, heading over to introduce himself before suddenly catching on that it was actually the same woman. Her hair was shinier and more vibrant, now curled up so it bobbed and bounced with her every step. Her uniform tighter and now missing a button, leaving it tantalizingly open a little more. Even her skirt seems wider and puffed out, bopping up and down as she shuffled from counter to table in some new ankle boots.
He ordered before glancing around the diner and spotting a new stranger in the corner. She was griping her menu tight, fidgeting in the booth and looking close to a panic attack. Each movement made the towering beehive on her head wobble and her chest heaved against a silver top, tight but not as tight as the shiny gold pants stretched to a breaking point fighting against her ample backside. Given his own experiences, our lead knew this meant trouble. He slowly approached and offered a tentative “Ma’am?”, but received no acknowledgment in return. He tried again and the woman startled, like she didn’t realize she was being addressed. She looked up and he saw her panicked face was overly painted with glossy pink lips and heavy neon blue eyeshadow. He softly ventured that she seemed like she was in trouble. The woman shook her head quickly, her beehive wobbling wildly before settling back in place. She was fine, everything was fine. He sat down uninvited and offered that it didn’t seem like that was the case. She held the menu on front of her face and stammered out that she couldn’t talk about it. Nobody would believe her. Our lead moved closer and said that he might know more than she expects.
Over a conversation pained with prying out details, he found that the makeup “lady” was in a similar situation. Before the town, he was a delivery driver, passing through before stopping by the town to deliver a box. But it didn’t appear on his manifest. He combed the ghost town before finding the shop it was addressed to, but nobody was there. He couldn’t leave the box without somebody to sign for it, so he marked it undelivered and drove off. Or, he tried to. The next morning, he woke up in his truck at the edge of town with no memory of returning. This happened again and again but he started changing. And it got worse the more he tried to tell people what was going on and the further he tried to escape. He destroyed the crate a few times, smashing it or burning the makeup inside, but it was just back in the truck the next morning. Finally, he just signed for it himself one day, dumped the box, and then sped off. But from then on, he woke up in the shop, now decorated and stocked, and his truck was nowhere to be found. The changes weren’t so drastic after that, but the town is punishing him for not being good with the makeup and styling. He changes every time he messes up, but he doesn’t know anything about makeup, he’s a driver!
The driver was on the verge of breaking down at the end of his story and our lead puts a hand on his shoulder. He’s in a similar situation, but the play and the theater have to be behind everything Somehow! He’s stuck as the actress in the play, but if the show finishes, maybe they can leave? The driver shrugs and says he knows. He’s done the actress’s makeup for the show before. Our lead pulls back. No he hasn’t. His makeup was just... there when he woke up. The driver shakes his head. He’s been to the theater for the cast dozens of nights but- Our lead stops him. “Dozens”? Just- Just how long has the driver’s loop been going? The driver slumps, he stopped counting three months in and it’s probably been at least a month since that... The star is shocked, he’s just been here for days, but- he looks over the makeup lady’s expanded curves and then to his own growing changes. Is that what’s in store for him?! The waitress comes over and delivers our lead’s food to the new table with a curtsy. He watches her go and if she changed mid-day for him, what kind of loop is she stuck in... He has to finish his role and end his part in the town as soon as possible. Thanking the driver in a rush, grabbing his food, and racing back to the theater, he desperately digs the script out of his purse and studies it. Hard.
The next morning, he stretches. He feels fantastic. He races to the mirror and looks himself over in a panic. Is his hair longer? Is the bodice tighter, is his bust the same size? He’s been so focused on his chest that he’s not sure how big his hips are. Oh gods, they’re bigger than yesterday, aren’t they?! Wait, if he doesn’t know and he’s so focused on his looks, is he turning into a vapid starlet bimbo!? He grits his teeth and silently screams in a panic. Calming himself down, he finally settles. The only way out is to finish the play, right?
Ready for the day, he sets out to find the director and stumbles upon the understudy pacing back and forth practicing her lines. In a panic, she introduces herself and our lead goes through the motions of pretending the have just met her. As she talks about her interest in theater, he looks her over and realizes she hasn’t changed at all. She’s just as petite and fresh as the first morning they met... Is her role in the loop something deeper or... She’s just an understudy, right, so if he’s expected to be the star then she doesn’t really have to do anything so it’s not like she can fail and change... But- She interrupts his rambling thoughts and asks if something is wrong, he staring. He snaps back and stammers something about maybe she should take over, she’s so prepared. She scoffs and thanks him for the praise but an actress of his fame and beauty has to be the one on stage. Is she ready? He says yes and that they need to put on the play right away. She joyously nods and mentions that it is test night after all before skipping away. He stops and reflects on her words. Has the loop day always supposed to have been the test performance or did he change it?
Our lead practices his lines all day, pacing the backstage, but also listening to the hustle and bustle of the now busy theater. Something was painted the wrong color, a light has burned out, two women bump into each other resulting in an expensive sounding clatter followed by a quivering voice on the verge of tears apologizing, then a rush of women comforting her with a lot of knowing in their voices.
As the sun dips low in the sky, our lead is called to his dressing room for makeup. In saunters the makeup lady, his beehive just barely making it through the door, but it seems more skillfully styled and piled high. New jewelry jangles as he waves hello and a shimmering jewel necklace takes the unnecessary step of guiding the eye to his even fuller chest. He pulls out a bag and starts working on our lead’s makeup, concentrating hard with movements that feel memorized. Trying to break the ice, our lead mentions that the artist looks calmer than he did yesterday. This causes the driver to jerk back in a panic. “Yesterday”? Did he mess up AGAIN?! Our lead frets and reaches out. No, no, HIS yesterday, not the driver’s. He’s sorry, he should have guessed that the driver had been through the loop more times than him again... The two settle but stare at the mirror as the star now has a streak of lipstick across his cheek. The driver starts to panic again, but our lead talks him down. Everything will be fine, he’s getting better at the job, and maybe they can practice together some day. The driver solemnly nods and starts to clean up our lead’s makeup.
The play is executed but the crew knows quickly that tonight is not the night. Lines are fumbled, the curtain gets stuck at a scene change, a light is flashed on with the wrong gel, and our lead too knows he didn’t deliver his scenes with the emotion the stage demands. Towards the end, knowing this isn’t the perfect performance weighs on him and defeat looms. He looks out onto the crowd, wondering who the shadowy figures are that assembled in the bizarre town. Just one face is clear, the understudy, watching with rapt attention but a clinical review of each part of the production as if scanning and analyzing them all.