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Keep On Lovin' You

Chapter 2: The Meeting

Summary:

Hilda continues her journey in redeveloping the Sunset Strip and also cries a lot.

Warning: contains depiction/references to Nazis, human experiments, rape of a minor, and physical, emotional, and verbal abuse. None of this is romanticized/sexualized. No graphic details are described.

Chapter Text

Hilda Klinemann sat impatiently outside of the Mayor’s office. She watched her son pace back and forth, fidgeting with his hands.
“Franz, if you keep doing that you’re going to put a hole in the floor’” Hilda said plainly.
“I’m sorry, Mama, I’m just so nervous!” Hilda scoffed.
“Oh, please, Franz,” she rolled her eyes.
“What if they don’t like my model? I worked very hard on it,” Franz said nervously. Hilda stood up and grabbed her son by the shoulders.
“They *will* like it, Franz,” Hilda said sternly, “I will be sure of that.” Franz smiled a little. He took a deep breath and nodded.
“You’re right, Mama!”
“I know,” Hilda said, sitting back down. She heard the sound of a door opening and turned to see the Mayor’s city planner sticking her head out of the door.
“Who are you?” The woman asked.
“Hilda Klinemann, I have a meeting with the mayor.” The woman checked her watch and nodded.
“One moment…” she turned back into the room. Hilda got up and grabbed her briefcase. Franz grabbed his model gingerly.
“Mayor, you’re three o’clock is here. A Hilda Klinemann?” The woman said. A muffled voice from inside the room spoke.
“Hilda? Oh yes! Send her in!”
“Herr Mayor, Thank you so much for meeting with me!” Hilda proclaimed, pushing the woman out of her away and barging into the Mayor's office. The events prior to this meant nothing to her now. She definitely wasn’t still thinking about it.
“You know my son, Franz,” She indicated to him.
“Such a pleasure to be here in your lovely-” He didn’t finish his sentence before Hilda cut him off.
“Enough! You’re boring him!” She scolded, smacking the back of his head.
“Sie bitte nicht wudend auf micht!” Franz pleaded. Hilda rolled her eyes.
“Befolgen zie mein befel!” She scolded. Franz recoiled.
“Okay…” He whimpered. Hilda was hardly in the mood for this. If she didn’t have a reputation to upkeep here, she would have canceled this meeting entirely.
“Herr Mayor, let us cut to the chase, shall we? I have a proposal, but first, may I be frank with you?”
“Please!”
“The fact is, Herr Mayor, the…” she forced the words out of her mouth “*sex*, drugs, and rock n’ roll’ element here is destroying your city.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say destroying…” The mayor replied. They were suddenly interrupted by two young men running through the mayor’s office, one of whom was only in boxers. Hilda didn’t even pay attention to what they were saying. She just gagged and pulled her son away from them. The city planner spoke up.
“Personally, I love rock…” Hilda zoned out after hearing that word, only waiting for the girl to finish speaking.
“And you are…?” She asked, outstretching her hand.
“Mrs. Klinemann, this is my new city planned from Berkley, Miss-”
“Anita Bath.” She shook Hilda's hand. Hilda wrinkled her nose and stared at her now greasy hand.
“I should say you do…”
“Do what?” Anita asked.
“Need a bath.” Hilda wiped her hand on Franz’s sleeve. Although he pulled away, he seemed rather fixated on Anita. Hilda noticed this and tried to change the subject.
“Herr Mayor, What Klinehaus Inc. is requesting is nothing more than the privilege of bringing your city into the next century, (something tells me I could get in trouble for using the script so often in this chapter, but it’s boring I don’t know what you want from me) a European model of clean, pure, efficient living! Behold!” Franz pulled a sheet from the top of his model, revealing it in all of its glory.
“Wow,” The mayor gaped, taking in every detail.
“Danke, I made it,” Franz said, clearly beaming.
“But, that's the entire stip from Doheny to La Cienega!” Anita cried. Hilda was getting fed up with this woman's bullshit.
“It is, and doesn't it deserve better? Don’t you *both* (not Anita) deserve better? Consider this a gift, from me to you.” She opened her briefcase and revealed dozens of neatly stacked hundred-dollar bills. The mayor smiled.
“Hilda, may I say I’m intrigued by your idea!” Hilda smiled, but coincidentally zoned out when she heard Anita speaking again. Suddenly, a loud chorus of voices erupted around them.
“We built this city!” Hilda and Franz spun around, looking for the source.
“What was that?” The mayor asked, shocked.
“The cry of your stip sir,” Anita said. “Mayor, we don’t know the first these about these people, or even what they want to build!” Hilda walked behind the two and leaned forward. She suddenly felt the urge to begin singing.
“Say you don’t know me!”

“What was that? What were you thinking?” Hilda screamed.
“Are you talking to me?” Franz asked timidly.
“No, not you Franz. I’m talking to myself. Why did I do that?” she turned to Franz, “Why did you let me do that?”
“I thought you sang nicely,” Franz said sympathetically.
“That’s not what I’m talking about. Who sings like that, anyway?”
“It was the heat of the moment, Mama, it happens.” Franz opened the door the the apartment. Hilda pushed him out of her way.
“Well, not to me it doesn’t!” She pulled her coat off and threw it to the floor. Franz picked it up and closed the door. He hung it neatly on the coat rack. Hilda stormed into the master bathroom and stared at herself again. She did this often.

She knew what had to be done. There was only one way to get this off her mind.
“I have to go, Franz.”
“What? Where?”
“Not important. Don’t leave this apartment and don’t invite anybody over. Not like you have anybody to invite, anyways.” She left and slammed the door behind her. Franz stood there, shocked, for a few seconds. He counted to fifteen to make sure she was gone, then grabbed his suit jacket and held it close to his chest.
“Anita…” He said, caressing the spot where his mother had wiped her hand, “What is an angel like you doing here?”

“She’s busy.” The waitress remarked.
“I have the money,” Hilda said desperately. “Now where is she?” The waitress smirked.
“Hunny, no amount of money can buy Justice Charlier.”
“I don’t want to ‘buy’ her I want to talk to her!”
“Hilda?” A smooth voice rose from the crowd. Hilda turned around and saw Justice standing there, wearing a pink skin-tight dress, her tits were barely hidden. Hilda refrained from commenting.
“I need you,” Hilda said, grabbing Justice by the arms. A security guard noticed this and ran over.
“Hey, hands off!” He said, grabbing Hilda.
“Hep! She's with me.” The officer let go of Hilda and eyed her before leaving again. Justice held her hand out.
“Walk with me, Klinemann.”
“Please, call me Hilda,”
They walked in relative silence. Neither of them talked, but the sound of intense music was blaring from every angle. Justice led Hilda down the same hallway the waitress had before. ‘That was only a few hours ago,’ Hilda thought. Justice opened the door to her dressing room and motioned for Hilda to walk in. She did, and Justice shut the door behind her.
“I got your message, Hilda.” She said in a disapproving tone. “I don’t appreciate my business being your next hot spot for boring aristocrats.”
“I need you to fuck me.” Hilda blurted. Justice was taken aback
“Woah woah woah, chill out, girl! You know I charge a lot for-” Hilda threw a briefcase full of money onto the ground, letting its contents spill on the floor. Justice looked back up at Hilda, stunned. This was not the woman she had met before. Though she was clearly obsessed, Hilda somehow remained relatively composed. Justice shook her head.
“Are you sure this is what you want, hun?” Hilda nodded, though Justice could tell she wasn't sure. She kicked the money back to Hilda and shook her head.
“No. I can tell this isn’t what you want.” She walked over to Hilda and put a hand on her shoulder.
“What is really bothering you?” She asked
“Nothing.”

Hertz was lying on the cold surgical table, exposed. He felt severely uncomfortable with the situation but knew he would be punished if he disobeyed. His father and another man walked into the room.
“Hertz, this is Detlef. He is going to supply the rest of the DNA for this experiment.” The man looked way older than Hertz. He was definitely an adult. Hans urged Detlef forward towards Hertz. Hertz tried to sit up but was pinned down by guards and secured to the table. He began to scream, but he couldn’t hear himself. He felt everything that was happening to him. Every painful thing. He began to pass out. The last thing he saw was those awful men standing above him, and he knew he had no power.

Hilda woke up on the floor of Justice Chalier’s dressing room, drenched in sweat and shaking. Justice was standing over her, a look of worry on her face. Hilda screamed and stood up. She tried to leave the room but the handle wouldn’t move. Her anxiety spiked as she felt Justice getting closer. Justice gently turned the handle and opened the door. Hilda ran out as fast as she could, tripping over herself multiple times. She tore through the crowd and out into the busy street. She didn’t know where she was running to, but she knew she couldn’t stop. She spotted the Hollywood sign in the distance and decided that was where she would be safe.

Hilda quickly scanned around to make sure nobody else was there. To her surprise, there wasn’t. She fell to the ground and began sobbing loudly. Although she kept a tough demeanor, Hilda was rather emotional. She tried to hide her inner feelings, however, specifically around her son. He had unfortunately seen the brutality she had faced from her husband firsthand. Though Hilda didn’t know it, Franz had vowed to never hurt a woman like that. Hilda also didn’t know that Franz was not, in fact, gay, so she had no way of guessing that he even thought about women. In her mind, Franz was going to grow up to be just like all the other men in her life. She feared she was raising a monster.

Franz sat cross-legged on the floor of the kitchen, trying to decide which tie looked best with his vest. Or rather, which tie would impress Anita. He liked Anita. She was pretty and strong and independent and…
“Oh, no!” Franz said aloud. “What is she’s…” He flicked his wrist, then covered his mouth. He thought about it for a moment. He felt something between them. Maybe he was thinking too much into it. He felt his hands shaking now.
“Calm down, Franz. You two just met. Take it slowly,” He breathed deeply and relaxed, then shook his hands excitedly. He couldn’t take it anymore. He had a giant crush on Anita Bath.

Meanwhile, Hilda, too had to deal with her immense feelings. What would her father think? Her father's opinion mattered a lot to her, even if she didn’t want to admit it.

“Wake up!” Hans barked. Hertz shot up in his hospital bed, dripping with sweat. Hans got right to the chase.
“The operation was successful. Now we just have to wait.” He stood at the foot of Hertz’s bed and stared down at his son.
“Father, remind me why we’re doing this again?” Hertz asked, weakly. His throat was raw from screaming.
“If we want to truly become the superior race, Hertz, we must eliminate the weak from our blood. The weak in this case, is women. We can be a society made of only Aryan men, no broads to hinder our studies or tell us what we’re doing is wrong.” Hans smiled at his son. Hertz did not return the gesture. There was a silence in the room.
“This is fucked up.” He finally said. Hertz’s face dropped.
“Oh, is that all you have to say? After everything I’ve done for you?! For this family?!” Hans grabbed Hertz by his hair, since he wasn’t wearing any clothes, and pulled him to the end of the bed.
“You are an ungrateful excuse for a son! You’re lucky you have that-” he pointed to Hertz’s abdomen “-in you or else I’d kill you right here!” He threw Hertz back, causing his head to collide with the bedframe. Hertz felt warm blood drip down his back and then felt nothing.

Hilda looked up at the sky. She swallowed heavily and fought back more tears. The sound of footsteps awoke her from her trance. A young blonde girl in a jean jacket walked up beside her.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there,” She said. She had a little trace of a Southern accent
“It’s fine,” Hilda said “It’s not like I own this place or anything.” *yet* she thought.
“I can leave if you need…” She turned to leave.
“No, stay.” Hilda barked. The girl turned around. Hilda stood up and brushed herself off, then outstretched her hand to the woman. “Hilda Klinemann.”
“Sherrie Christian. Hey, you aren’t from here are you?”
“What gave it away?” Hilda rolled her eyes. Sherrie smiled, then turned and looked out into the city.
“So nice, isn’t it?” Sherrie sighed. “Too bad it’s all gonna be gone.” Hilda cocked her head.
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, you didn't hear? Apparently, this German woman bought off the mayor. The whole sunset strip is being remodeled.” Sherrie remained oblivious. Hilda stared at her blankly.
“That was me, Frauline Christian.” She said blandly. Sherrie looked up at her.
“Oh,” She turned back to the city, then to Hilda again. “Why?”
“Because this city needs it,” She gently put her hand on Sherrie's shoulder. “*you* need it,” Sherrie thought for a moment. She shook her head. “I don’t think I should stay here. It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Klinemann.” She rushed away. Hilda was left to herself again, but now she was upset. She needed to yell at somebody. She pulled out her phone, frustrated, and dialed a number.
“Franz! Come pick me up, I’m tired of walking!”