The Projection Booth:

Blackstone removed his star-shaped gingerbread cookies from the aging oven. "Your kitchen is inadequate for your needs, but I think I made the cookies work in time for the movie."

"My cousin left a new convection oven somewhere in the basement, and I'll ask Edgar to look for it tonight. He had it last."

"Is your cousin ever coming back for her stuff?" he asked. 

"No. My cousin and her husband buy stuff at auctions that they never use. They met at an estate sale. I used to do the same thing with craft kits, but I started to go on shopping breaks. It's like a little vacation from buying junk, and there is less stress about cleaning." 

Blackstone broke a warm cookie open, and the gooey center oozed and melted over the pan. He placed rose-shaped cookies in. "I hope you like them, but I'll adjust the recipe to your tastes."

Florence couldn't hide the excitement in her voice. "Blackstone, you're so sweet. I've always wanted to try these."

"I like cooking because people need to eat to survive, but I want to make guests and family happy." Blackstone placed another small batch of cookies inside, but they were tiny unicorn horns.

After ten minutes, she ate a cookie. Gingerbread and two types of chocolate melted on her tongue. "It's just how I imagined they would taste."

He removed the batch and placed kiss-shaped cookies inside.

"It's showtime." Florence started the projector. The movie played, and the audience wore costumes and sang along. 

Adverts for products, musicals, and children's movies ran for an hour.

Blackstone watched the screen. "I love Monster in the House. Wendy and I used to watch it together when she lived in the castle. It's why I love baking, but I've never seen the movie in an actual theater."

"Watching it in the theater is a completely different experience." Florence sprayed perfume, and a fine mist of an unidentifiable perfume wafted through the theater. "All our films are older or indie, but most theater houses still play this one because people will watch it hundreds of times and never get bored. Fans will even order popcorn delivered to see it at home."

"Why are there only two people in Theater 1?"

"Private showing. Dad makes most of his profit from parties. Those are only reserved for Theater 1. Usually, the parties are larger."

Blackstone ran to remove the last batch of cookies.

He ran the projector while Florence sprayed different scents.

Both Blackstone and Florence sang along with the movie.

He liked how the romance developed over two opposites baking. Was love that easy? Be kind to a woman, shower regularly, and hang out with a couple of women, and one of them might fall in love with him.

Even though the original woman the monster fell in love with rejected him, he found a cute baker he befriended.

"If Florence rejected me, would there be someone who'd love the real me?" Blackstone whispered to himself.

Florence went to bed at 9:00 am because someone had purchased Theater 1 for non-stop parties.

Blackstone climbed up to his apartment. "I need to thank her." He wished he had talked to her brother the last time he dropped groceries off.

He thumbed through the money Thackeray hid from Victor, as well as the money he earned from working in the theater.

It was his special escape money, but the escape finally happened.

He counted the money again, each labeled in denominations of fifty, or ten thousand gems, but he couldn't go and buy a 'Thank You.' gift for Florence. "Worthless," he said to himself.

Blackstone went through the contents of his mini fridge and placed them on a table.

Florence's brother, Edgar, dropped off a massive box. "I'm sorry, I can't talk. I have to go back to New Joy to see if I can reinstate my medical license and pay my condo fees before it's foreclosed on."

"Okay, we can talk tomorrow."

"The convection oven and this week's groceries are inside." Edgar left.

Blackstone climbed into his apartment and rummaged through the box. He found neon green fake flowers. "Not good enough for a woman as special as Florence."

At the bottom of the boxes were mini notebooks and pens.

Most were unused. Blackstone wrote her a note.

Dear Florence,

I wanted to thank you for saving me and helping me escape. You're amazing and kind.

Your devoted friend,

Blackstone,

P.S. I'd love to have given you carnations. You sometimes wear them in your hair.

Blackstone made her origami flowers.

He placed his homemade gifts on the little coffee table and prepared her breakfast, complete with fried eggs, custard rolls, and grilled vegetables on the hotplate.

Florence awoke to the smell of hot chocolate.

She stumbled down the steps from her apartment. "That smells delicious, but how could you do all of this in three hours?"

"Practice. I can cook anything you want, like gourmet food for royalty."

"Even pumpkin cheesecake or mushroom roast?" She asked.

"Anything you want. Uncle....Thackeray ate with me and the other servants and cooked for us, too. He was my first teacher." Blackstone poured Florence a cup of hot chocolate. He pointed at the coffee table and his gifts. "Florence, I made gifts for you."

"It is not my birthday or a holiday." She leaned closer to him and opened the notebook.

He motioned for her to sit. "No, you're wrong. There is a little-known holiday called, Appreciation of You Day. Okay, I made it up."

"Wow, you're bumping up on The Friends That I Adore Checklist that I hide in my closet. I'm kidding, there is no list, but you're still at the top," she said.

He grinned at her. "Because I'm glad you're in my life."

Florence read the notebook. "This is the nicest thing anyone has done for me."

Night Market:

Sunlight streamed through Wendy, and she magnified it. Her voice and consciousness were elsewhere in her massive body.

Lyric Kingdom was the exact opposite of The Glass Heart Kingdom, and while farms and woods took up most of the land, Lyric Kingdom's downtown was modern.

Cottages and yurt settlements dotted the woods, but most of the population lived in massive skyscrapers on ten streets.

The castle was a lovely brownstone with an army barracks on the right and a community garden on the left.

Dozens of artists painted vegetables and muffins on the sides.

Three large factories with different names, with the signs Bran Muffin Cakes Baked Fresh Daily.

Joy Street smelled like vanilla, and the scents of orange and chocolate lingered on another street.

Tribeca bought muffins in a day-old store.

The clerk transformed into her full cat shape. "My muffins are the best you've ever eaten. They're full of fiber. Each muffin contains a teaspoon of beet sugar. Our muffin cakes are mostly sweetened with fruit."

Even slightly stale, they were delicious.

Tribeca guided them through the street. "Come on, children."

Unicorn-drawn carriages pulled refrigerated milk trucks, but many citizens rode bikes or used solar buses.

"I guess this kingdom is the one that has a solar panel factory," Astrid said.

Hansel stumbled behind them.

She realized he was possibly as young as 9 and not 13 as she had previously thought, which meant Queen Petunia plucked him from the local orphanage with a promise of food.

Tribeca glanced at his wrist and noticed a rose scar Queen Petunia gave to the abandoned.

Before they visited the night market, they placed money in a bank, closed the deed on her plot of land, which was cheaper than rent for a full twenty acres, and met with a real estate agent.

The family condo was 175 square feet (ca. 16 m²).

"We only sell, no rentals are available." The agent smiled. "It is easier to print out the same models, but you will need to sleep in the living room with hammocks. There are no bedrooms in this unit, but there are no schools where you plan to live."

"Mom, can you buy a hammock?" Hansel's tale wagged. He transformed back into a human boy.

"You'll have a bed and a matching desk." She hugged her new son.

The real estate agent grinned.

"What about a tub room?" Tribeca asked. "I feel claustrophobic, and I need a three-bedroom apartment, not a studio."

"The waiting list for family units is at least four years because we have a housing crisis due to the war," the real estate agent said.

"We're not looking to rent long term. I'm putting my house and shack up for sale." She glanced at the clock. It moved backward. "Perhaps I said too much. We need to leave."

The agent smiled. Her eyes, slits of fire, and greed. She scratched her elf ears. "I'd almost think you were that woman Victor is searching for, but she's older than you, and doesn't have a son." The woman handed Tribeca a card. "If you find her, Victor is claiming her as his bride. Who wouldn't want to marry a prince? I'd be doing her a favor."

"I hope he finds his bride because it won't be me." Tribeca and her family left and waited for the night market.

Cement poles held up a tin roof.

"Is Wendy sad?" Hansel asked. "I don't know why she hasn't kicked me out yet."

"She is fine. It's a happy rain. I can tell," Tribeca said. "And Wendy loves children."

The roof kept Tribeca and her family dry as they scurried from vendor to vendor.

Fairy lights and glowing ivy lit the stalls, filled with fruit, vegetables, and even live animals such as sheep, chickens, and goats.

Signs lit up. Fresh produce must be washed. Please tell security if any vendor is selling unpasteurized rat cheese. It's illegal.

Another sign glowed. If any of Queen Petunia's troops ask for taxes or gifts, they will be arrested on-site.

Tribeca purchased bags of produce, caged animals, more seeds, and wool clothes for Hansel. "Hopefully, we won't be here this long, but others will come, and we can help them."

"But I don't need to give birth to be a mother." She hugged Astrid and Hansel.

They purchased chickens, goats, sheep, a roll bed, and all kinds of food.

The solar buses didn't run past three am, but they took a carriage home. The private carriage windows were tinted, and you couldn't see into the faces of the passengers. They also allowed animals in the back.

Astrid glanced out the window at the working farms.

Queen Petunia's lackeys stood with silk blindfolds over their heads and chains around their wrists. The police forced them into the back of a red and blue carriage.

The coachman talked to them. "I thought you'd want to see them in chains."

Hansel trembled. "No, they make me uncomfortable. Please never take us down this road again. Whenever I see them, I'm sad."