Alister Kingsley wished that he was anywhere but where he currently was - inside of a posh art gallery that was having an exposition featuring his latest work. He still wasn’t quite sure how his manager Mr. Adam Bailey had convinced him to come to this bloody thing.

For once, Alister had set aside his paint-covered smock and was looking presentable. He’d showered for over an hour to get the oil paint off his skin, and dressed in an expensive designer suit Mr. Bailey had bought him. Alister still didn’t really get why he had to make an appearance at this thing.

Sure, he was a famous artist now, but it’s not like he was a singer or actor. Why the bloody hell did his clients need to meet him in the flesh? They could buy his work and spend thousands just as easily if he wasn’t there. Besides, his being there was just too risky.

There were way too many women at the gallery.

And Alister was afraid - er - allergic to women. Didn’t his manager Mr. Bailey understand the tough spot he’d put Alister in?

From beneath shyly lowered lashes, Alister observed the crowd of clients and art lovers that were milling about the gallery while admiring his artwork. The men were handsomely dressed in slick suits, and Alister was envious of how put together they looked. He was sure he looked silly in his penguin suit.

Alister self-consciously ran his hands down over his jacket to remove nonexistent wrinkles. He’d choose his comfortable, old T-shirts, jeans, smock, and sneakers over an uncomfortable designer suit and dress shoes any day.

The women were dressed in glamorous gowns, luxurious furs, sparkling jewelry, and doused heavily in expensive perfume.

Furs…diamonds…perfume…

Alister shuddered. He could feel the walls closing in around him. His palms were becoming sweaty, and sweat beaded on his brow. His arms felt itchy, and his heart rate began to speed up. Shit. Alister realized he was close to having another panic attack.

A soft, tortured groan slipped past his lips. He wished he could go home, crawl into bed, and stay buried under the covers for a week.

What part about being an anti-social, eccentric, woman-fearing artist did Mr. Bailey not understand? He shouldn’t be there…

Among people.

Among women.

Another uncomfortable shudder traveled through his body and he rubbed his arms. He grabbed a glass of bubbling champagne from a passing server’s tray and gulped it back. Maybe if he got drunk enough it would help to calm his nerves.

It was moments like this that made Alister regret that he’d become so famous for his fanciful paintings of a land that only existed inside of his imagination and his dreams: Wonderland.

The paintings depicted different surreal locations in Wonderland such as the Mushroom Grove with its over-sized, spotted mushrooms that came in a rainbow of colors, Hedge Maze that defied gravity and logic by swooping up towards the sky, and the Dark Forest that was only illuminated by bioluminescent plants and organisms.

Alister’s paintings were also filled with fun, nonsensical things like: animals wearing Victorian-style and Steampunk clothes, and that stood on their hind legs, mythological creatures from fairytale stories, and flowers and trees that had faces since they could talk and sing.

Some of the paintings included Wonderland’s eccentric human denizens. One example was the King of Hearts a.k.a the Red King. In one of the paintings of the Red King an enormous white castle with turrets that had red roofs and heart-shaped decorations could be seen in the background.

And then, there were Alister’s paintings of her.

The only woman he wasn’t afraid of because she didn’t exist.

She wasn’t real.

Madeline Hatter a.k.a the Mad Hatter.

Alister turned to face an enormous painting that he’d painted featuring a ‘Mad Tea Party’. On the front lawn outside of a hat-shaped cottage a long dining table had been set up for tea. Even though there were only three beings seated at the table, each spot at the table had a place setting consisting of: a frilly placemat, porcelain teacup, saucer, and silver spoon.

There were multiple porcelain teapots available on the table that came in all shapes and sizes, and some teapots even had more than one spout. One of the teapots was floating in midair while pouring tea by itself into an empty cup. Bread-and-butterflies hovered around the table waiting for someone to reach out and grab them before dunking them into their tea.

Madeline was seated at the table along with her two closest female friends: the March Hare and the Dormouse. The March Hare had styled her purple hair into a punky mohawk, and was wearing a Steampunk, purple vest with the pattern of gold pocket watches on it. The Dormouse had adorable, overly large ears, and pink fur covered with purple polka dots.

Alister’s gaze focused on Madeline. She was beautiful. And of course she was. Alister had made her that way.

Madeline Hatter had long, curly hair - the color of tangerines. Her eyes glittered like two emeralds. She was wearing a purple, velvet, Victorian-style tailcoat with a green lining, a green, orange and black corset with the pattern of diamonds on it, a pair of tight, purple, leather pants, and a pair of lace-up, black, leather knee boots. A purple top hat sat on her head with a green ribbon tied around its base into a large bow. There was a sword strapped to her side that was partially obscured from view by the table.

Alister never painted Madeline in frilly, girlie dresses. He didn’t imagine her to be that way. In his imagination, Madeline was a bit of a tomboy. She was strong, brave, and slightly mad. Her madness tended to make her fearless and reckless. Madeline was always very sure of herself.

Brave. So unlike his cowardly self.

In Alister’s daydreams, he pictured the Red King being in love with Madeline, and imagined that she rebuffed all of his advances. The thought made him smirk slightly. She was too good for the King of Hearts. She’d never submit to him, or anyone. She was a free spirit, and a fierce swordswoman.

Filled with longing, Alister unconsciously reached his hand out towards Madeline. It’d be nice if he could just pass right through the painting into Wonderland. His brave Madeline would protect him from his clingy female clients that were currently eyeing him like a piece of meat. He gulped and refocused his attention on Madeline.

And she winked at him.

Wait…what? Alister rubbed his blue eyes, and then narrowed them at the tea party painting in a scrutinizing way. A hand on his shoulder had him jumping a foot in the air. “Ack!”

“Alister,” a familiar, deep male voice said in a slightly chiding tone.

Alister spun to face his manager Mr. Bailey with a hand pressed over his frantically beating heart. “Mr. Bailey, what the bloody hell?”

Mr. Bailey’s expression turned chagrined. “I’m sorry I startled you, Alister.” An amused smirk curled Adam’s lips next. “But, your best client, Miss Cameo Stone wishes to meet you. Desperately.”

Alister frowned. “I thought I already made myself clear that I’m not good around women.” He folded his arms in front of his chest, and tried to stare down his manager, which was hard to do since Mr. Bailey was a couple inches taller than Alister at six-five.

“And I think you can make an exception this time since Miss Stone just paid forty thousand dollars for that tea party painting you can’t seem to stop staring at,” Mr. Bailey said with raised eyebrows.

Alister winced and let out a defeated sigh. Mr. Bailey nodded in Cameo’s direction. Alister followed his line of sight to see what his best client looked like. He had to bite down on his lower lip to stop a despairing groan from slipping past his lips. Great, just great. She was the worst type of middle-aged woman to deal with - one wearing clothes that didn’t suit her age.

Cameo was wearing a black and white tube dress, a black mink shawl, black stilettos, and diamond jewelry.

Alister was eighteen-years-old, and Cameo was probably somewhere in her early forties. Alister’s lips thinned into a grim line. She was a total cougar.

Fur…diamonds…perfume…

Deep breathes, Alister. Deep breathes. “Alright, fine. I’ll give her five minutes,” Alister grumbled in a reluctant manner.

Mr. Bailey whacked Alister amiably on the back. “That’s the spirit, Kid!”

Alister stumbled forward a few steps and shot an irritated glare over his shoulder at his manager before heading over towards Miss Stone. Once he was a couple of feet away from her he cleared his throat and started to shyly introduce himself. “Hi, I’m-”

Cameo’s attention immediately locked onto Alister and she interrupted him. “Oh, I know who you are, Darling. You’re the famous artist Alister Kingsley, and the man who painted that absolutely lovely tea party painting that I just paid a pretty penny for.”

Alister immediately felt guilty about how much Cameo had paid for the painting. It was his manager Mr. Bailey who always decided how much Alister’s paintings would sell for though. Even though Alister always thought the prices were too high, Mr. Bailey had repeatedly explained to Alister that the prices were reasonable for someone as famous as he’d become. “I could ask my manager to give you a discount, if you’d like.”

Cameo threw her head back and cackled loudly. A few people shot her questioning and slightly worried looks. “A discount?” Cameo arched an eyebrow at Alister. “Do I look like I need a discount? Besides, your painting is worthy every penny. Your paintings are the perfect…how shall I put this? Escape from reality. And let’s face it, Darling, reality sucks.”

Alister offered her a crooked smile. Finally, something he could agree on. “Yeah.”

Cameo smiled sharply at the artist. “Although, perhaps, with the right…companionship reality could be more bearable. More…fun.” She reached out and placed a hand on Alister’s arm in a flirty manner.

Alister shuddered in disgust and revulsion at her touch. It took all of his self-control not to slap her hand away. “I’m not sure what you mean, Miss Stone.” Alister gulped and glanced around nervously.

Cameo squeezed his bicep. “Surely, you know exactly what I’m saying, Darling.”

Out of the corner of his eye a flash of white caught Alister’s attention. What the hell? A rabbit? “Did you just see that?”

“See what, Darling?” Cameo drawled in her smoky voice.

“I think it was a rabbit,” Alister started to explain in an airy tone. “I wonder how it got inside the gallery.”

Cameo scowled in displeasure. “A rabbit? Nasty little pests. It must have wandered inside from the garden. I usually sic my dogs on any rodents I see in my garden.”

“I think it was wearing a dress…” Alister trailed off thoughtfully.

“A dress?” Cameo cackled in amusement. “You mean, like from one of your impossible paintings? You must have spotted a rabbit in clothes from one of your own paintings, Silly Boy.”

Alister shrugged carelessly. “Maybe. I guess.”

“Now, where were we? Ah, yes…” Cameo started to stroke his arm. “I was just inviting you out for a drink, and you were just about to say ‘yes’.”

“I…er…” Alister’s eyes darted nervously around the gallery and then he spotted the White Rabbit again. His eyes widened when the rabbit held up a pocket watch, pointed at its face, and gave Alister a disgruntled look before running off.

“I…I’m sorry, Miss Stone, but I really need to go! My Muse is suddenly calling me!” Alister started off and made his way over to a closet where he’d stored some of his art supplies for just such an occasion. He grabbed a blank canvas, his portable paint set, and his favorite paintbrush before taking off in the direction he’d seen the rabbit go.

Once Alister entered the hallway outside of the gallery he spotted the rabbit again at the other end of the hall. As soon as the rabbit saw that Alister had followed her she took off around the corner.

“Hey! Wait!” Alister called after the White Rabbit as he took off, running after it down the hall. “Hold still so I can paint you!” He was soon exiting the gallery building and entered the garden beyond.

The rabbit sped through the garden, only pausing for a moment to check her pocket watch again. The rabbit tsked, and shook her head in a disapproving manner. “We’re late. We might not make it in time. Oh dear, oh dear! She’ll have to marry him if we’re too late!”

Alister took this opportunity to start his painting of the White Rabbit. She was dressed in a lacey, white and blue, Victorian-style dress with a bell skirt and puffed sleeves. Alister noticed that the rabbit was even wearing a pair of tiny, white, lace gloves, and smiled goofily. “How curious.”

The rabbit didn’t stand still for long, however, and took off running again through the garden until she ran into the nearby forest. Alister didn’t hesitate to follow the rabbit into the pine trees, and that’s when the rabbit suddenly disappeared from sight behind a tree. “Oh, no you don’t! You won’t get away that easily!” Alister called out.

When Alister rounded the tree a gigantic rabbit hole appeared from out of nowhere beneath his feet. Alister windmilled his arms desperately as he tried not to fall into the hole, but he’d been running so fast it was hard to halt his forward momentum. “What kind of rabbit hole is that big?” Alister complained as he gawked down at the hole in shock.

Alister let out a very undignified squawk as he ended up falling forward and right into the hole. Alister screamed in terror as he plummeted down through the dirt tunnel. Abruptly, Alister’s speed began to slow, and he stopped screaming. This whole bizarre experience suddenly seemed oddly familiar to Alister somehow, and that helped to calm his nerves.

Alister glanced around the dirt tunnel with great curiosity as he fell at the unnaturally slow speed. This was definitely no ordinary rabbit hole. Framed paintings (was that a Van Gogh?!), antique mantle clocks, cuckoo clocks, and mirrors with gilded frames decorated the dirt walls.

Alister also passed floating furniture on his way down, and narrowly missed knocking into a piano that was playing all by itself. He wasn’t so lucky with avoiding a rocking chair, and landed right in it. But, the chair tipped back so much that Alister fell right out of the chair the next second.

Alister spotted a shelf lined with labeled glass jars, and unconsciously licked his lips when he spotted a jar of orange marmalade. His favorite. He reached out and miraculously managed to grab the jar. Sadly, the jar was empty, and Alister carefully set the jar down on a random shelf he passed as he continued falling.

Alister pouted and lamented his inability to stop his descent when he spotted a gray, stone fireplace with a blazing fire in its hearth that would have been a nice painting opportunity.