by David Sharp
"Just a minute," Stina responded and gave the two of them a look.
Daniel and Chad put themselves away and straightened up. Delirious and excited, they watched each other, hot from the moment.
Stina pretended to be shocked. "Chad, this is only your second week. And Daniel, well, you are hired."
Daniel was surprised by his actions, especially the outcome, and smiled. "Thanks. When do I start?"
"Halloween night. Next week is when I need you."
"Way to go, dude." Chad stretched his arms up behind his head, showing off the blond hair of his pits.
There was a loud click as Stina unlocked the door. Daniel stole a kiss and hug from Chad before he bolted out of the opening, nearly knocking down his favorite bartender, Max.
"What are you doing here?" Max looked perplexed.
"Just got a job as a barback," Daniel spoke and walked past at the same time.
"Oh, God help us," Max joked, half serious.
"Later," Daniel said to the group, catching and holding Chad's eye for a moment, and turning just in time to not hit the wall.
*
Inside of the BMW, Patrick looked up from the new issue of the TWIT he was reading. Formally called This Week in Texas, it was a small sized gay magazine covered with the image of a male stripper, tanned and t-backed. He lowered it as Daniel got in the car smiling.
"Well?"
"I got the job," Daniel grinned widely.
"Way to go." Patrick tousled Daniel's hair. "When do you start, sexy?"
"Halloween," Daniel cocked his head. "Is there anything I'm going to need?"
"Clothes that you don't mind getting dirty for one, and your combat boots should work," Patrick enjoyed the scene of Daniel's happiness.
"Cool. Cool. Cool."
"Let's celebrate. I'll take you to dinner at Michelangelo's."
Daniel felt almost shy when offered things, and said in a quieter tone, "Okay."
*
Michelangelo's was a four star dining establishment on the Westheimer Strip. The aura of the restaurant was nice and comfortable. Daniel marveled at an odd assortment of things: a fireplace that was probably rarely used; a piano that was, at the very least, used for formal evenings; and a tree trunk. For the second time that day, Daniel felt out of place in his borrowed clothes. This was a feeling of being underdressed. He held out his glass for Patrick to fill from the vintage red wine left at the table.
"There is a tree growing through the ceiling over there."
"It has been there since they opened in the sixties. The tree is part of the place's charm."
"I like it. It's weird."
Patrick sipped the wine and watched Daniel's discomfort. "You know, you don't have to keep running home all of the time."
"It's where I live."
"You spend most of your time with me. I figured you for a vagabond."
"What did you call me?"
"A vagabond, someone who wanders from place to place without a real home," Patrick replied.
"Like a nomad?"
"Kind of, but you are more like a runaway."
"I grew up like...hell, I used to be a punk kid on the streets."
"I can tell that."
"Really?" Daniel questioned and always found it funny when someone tried to figure him out.
"It's in the way you act."
"How do I act?"
"Like a boy who has never had to be responsible."
"But you like boys, don't you?"
"I do, but it is my downfall."
"Well, I only look the part. I'm twenty-one."
"Age doesn't matter. I like that you're different."
"I like you, too."
The stiff but flamboyant waiter set down the appetizer of escargot, refilled the wine glasses with finesse, and promptly left them to it.
Daniel delicately picked out a piece of the snail and dipped it in the garlic butter sauce, secretly disgusted by the delicacy. "I met another one of the barbacks, this guy Chad."
"Oh yeah, is he hot like you?"
Daniel almost blushed. "Kind of, I guess, if you like blonds."
"You know I do."
"Anyway, he had a fox tail hanging right out of the side of his shorts."
"Maybe he's weird like you, too," Patrick joked.
"I ain't ever seen anything like it."
"You like him then, huh?"
"I don't know about that."
"When you get a chance, ask him and see where it leads. Maybe we can start a pack." The twinkle in Patrick's eye belied whether he was serious or not.
Daniel rolled his eyes, but added, "You are the Alpha."
"That I am, little man." Patrick chewed a chewy piece of snail. "That I am."
Daniel briefly doubted again, but it was all new and so damn interesting, so he ignored his insides and decided then and there to go with it to see where it led.
Chapter Three:
Halloween night came and Daniel found himself outside of Trade in Patrick's idling silver BMW again. He watched the colored lights coming from the second floor windows and the cool blue neon of the Trade sign in full effect through the tinted car window. Costumed revelers passed by in the night and Daniel thought of modern day pagans. The bass from the techno music reverberated from the cement walls, making him flinch.
"Don't be nervous," Patrick soothed.
"I don't have a costume. All I have is this," Daniel motioned to his jeans, white t-shirt, and combat boots.
"Don't worry about it. Stina never said you needed a costume, did he?"
"But, it's Halloween," Daniel almost pouted like a kid.
Patrick pulled out a flat chrome bottle opener from his back pocket and gave it to Daniel. "Here, take this for luck."
"That's yours," Daniel liked the cool touch of the metal on his palm.
"I've got another one at work. Now go! Get in there."
Daniel laughed and opened the door. "Alright, I'm going."
Patrick slapped him on the backside. "You'll be fine, daddy-o."
Daniel blew him a kiss as he sped off in the BMW. He laughed again and spun the bottle opener around his fingers and pocketed it as he looked up at Trade. Never had he seen himself working at a place like this. Never had he even thought about it. Daniel made his way around the building, excited and scared of what waited for him inside. Past the red door, an assortment of decked out gays, some painted and glittery, some military men, and some plain scary creatures of the night impatiently waited in line. Their eyes burned into Daniel as he passed them up and entered the glass doors following the metal-railed ramp to the front. A fierce large woman with a feathered hat looked down at him from a high counter that housed the register. A severe blonde and heavily made-up drag queen squatted on a stool in front, guarding the way inside.
"The line starts back there, sweetie," the queen batted her eyelashes and shimmied her sequins.
"I'm here to work," Daniel spat out, feeling the discomfort around him.
"If that's true, you're late, honey."
The woman behind the counter ignored them both and greeted the next customer in line. Daniel took the opportunity to approach the drag queen.
"Hey, I'm new to this," Daniel almost whispered in her ear. "Stina told me to be here at this time and here I am."
"Awe, you are just precious," the queen pinched Daniel's cheek.
"Well, I try," Daniel play acted the part of bashful.
"You go on in, but remember, Yolanda is here at the door."
"I couldn't forget that," Daniel winked and bounced into the club.
The music thumped to a familiar techno beat of Moby's Move, filling the humid air with force once Daniel stepped past the entrance. The club was a wonderland of people. A few hundred milled about, some chatted and drank, while most danced or at least moved to the beat. The vibe and energy of the place felt so good that Daniel forgot he was nervous. He smiled at the thought of being a part of this community of misfits. Before becoming impulsive and gett
ing lost in the crowd, he purposefully cut back and made his way to the office.
The door was unlocked, and once closed, the sound of music was partially muted. Stina looked up, and his face was painted green with bolts protruding from his neck. The desk was laid out with pictures of naked guys: glossy professional photos. The monster smiled and then frowned at Daniel.
"Where's your costume?"
"What?" Daniel's heart beat rose to a hard thump in his chest. "I don't have one. I uh, I didn't know."
"It's Halloween, you have to have one."
"Sorry," Daniel paused and then added, "I like your Frankenstein."
"It's Franken-Stina!" Stina growled with his hands up, leaden like the classic monster. Dropping his arms, he smiled again. "I might have something in my trunk you can wear." Stina headed to a partially obscured door. Daniel followed and met Stina's green hand. "Wait here, I'll be right back."
"I didn't know there was a door back there."
"You weren't supposed to."
Daniel sheepishly slid his hands into his pockets and mumbled, "Oh."
"Have a seat at the desk. I'll only be a minute."
Stina rattled his keys, opened the door and vanished from sight, leaving Daniel to his own devices. After a cursory scan of the office, he settled in to the big black pleather rolling chair behind the desk and eyed the glossies of bare skin spread across it. He picked up a picture, feeling momentarily out of shape at the sight of the model's washboard abs. Soon, his self-image forgotten, he was lost in the male bodies on display. He put his feet up on the desk and sorted through the stills to get a better look at their anatomies. The door was banged open. Caught red handed, Daniel dropped the photos like hot potatoes, and nearly toppled backward off of the chair.
"Where's Stina?" A muscle bound jock demanded, all country with his cowboy hat, coveralls, and a piece of straw chewed up in his mouth.
Daniel righted the chair and tried in vain to move the naked photos away. Straightening up enough, he realized his awkwardness and pointed to the door. "He's in there."
The muscle bound jock paced back and forth and moved for the door and then thought better of it. "Tell him Eddie needs a bottle of Rumple Minz Schnapps for station seven. You got that?"
"Sure." Daniel was uncertain but guessed that he would figure it out when Stina returned.
Eddie moved the chewed on straw to the other side of his mouth with his tongue. He shook his head at some private notion and abruptly left.
A rotund Cuban man maneuvered around Eddie in the doorway and into the office to come to a dead stop. Staring, he casually twirled a bar towel. "Who, the fuck, are you?"
Daniel cringed, got up and walked out to the middle of the room in an effort to greet, "I um, I'm Daniel."
"Well, you're the one." The Cubano circled Daniel like he was some sort of prey. Deciding to extend a hand, he spoke, "I'm Gustavo, also known as Katrina, but you can call me Ka'tee."
"Ka'tee? I don't understand."
"Don't worry, you'll meet her," Gustavo's eyes flared. "She lives in the ice room." With a maniacal laugh, he rushed to the other side of the room, grabbed a case of Corona from along the wall, and swooshed back out the door.
Daniel sighed and looked at the framed photographs of drag shows and tried to spot Katrina, or even Yolanda, in the bizarre tableaus. Stina returned with a bundle of clothes and locked the liquor vault behind him.
"Let's see what I got."
Daniel stood and looked disapprovingly at the frilled and girly costumes laid out on the back of two chairs.
"Do I have to wear one?" Daniel was hopeful for a way out.
"It's Halloween." Stina turned his green head to the side, putting his square profile and bolts into silhouette. Jerkily, he held out a costume from the heap up to the light. "This one...is the one."
Daniel shook his head in horror at the French Maid outfit. "No...No. No."
Franken-Stina had an evil grin. In a gusto voice like in the old movie, in imitation of Colin Clive's classic delivery (It's Alive!), he said, "It's Perfect!"
"Alright," Daniel resigned himself to the humiliation.
"You can change back there, by the soda boxes."
Daniel, head bowed down, walked behind a row of beer cases. Next to them were the syrup boxes for the sodas. He was surprised to see a mirror on the wall. It hung between the tubing that went from the boxes through the wall. He laid the outfit disdainfully on top of a tank of CO2, and pulled off his t-shirt. A quick look in the mirror revealed his lean body. Again, he was satisfied with what he had. The boots took a moment to get off as he stumbled, almost falling back. The CO2 tank rang with a metallic echo as it nudged the wall. Daniel's fingers touched and undid his fly as he began to take off his jeans, when he realized that something was amiss.
"Oh no, this is wrong," Daniel said out loud, muffled by the surrounding boxes.
"What was that?" Stina's voice came over the ruffling of papers.
"I'm not wearing any underwear."
There was a throaty laugh, "Perfect. You can go au naturel."
"I need a drink." Daniel hoped for some courage in a glass.
"Hang tight, I'll get you one." Stina was out the door in a blast of music.
Daniel swallowed his pride, took off his jeans in a second, and stood stark naked in front of the mirror. The outfit was confusing to him, and he turned it one way, then another, trying to figure out how it went on. The door banged open again, bringing in the loud dance music for another moment until it closed.
Yolanda's voice boomed in the office, "Bride of Franken-Stina, where are you, girl? I need some change."
Daniel peeked out from behind the cases and found it too late to cover up. "He'll be right back."
"Oh, I see," Yolanda pouted her lips, turned abruptly and left.
"No, it's not like that," Daniel tried to persuade, but she was already gone. Before Daniel could try to get dressed in the outfit, someone else walked in and interrupted.
A tall, lanky, dark haired Germanic guy appeared. Daniel knew him, even guessed him to be about the same age, but he could not think of his name, even though he had seen him from time to time running around the bar. The moment was awkward. The night had proven to be full of awkward moments so far. They stared at each other for a few seconds, though it seemed to drag on much longer.
"Are you a dancer?"
"Not quite."
"You're the new barback."
"That's me, Daniel."
"I'm Darren." The barback stepped closer and his blue eyes widened as he realized that Daniel was naked. "What are you doing back there?"
Daniel felt cocky and walked out, holding up the maid outfit to barely cover his nakedness. "I'm supposed to wear this."
Darren laughed, and then he had an idea, digging a vial out of his pants. "Set that down and come here."
Daniel, reluctant at first, dropped the costume on a beer box and strutted over. "What's that?"
"Glitter. Now hold up your arms and slowly turn around."
In wonder, Daniel turned and felt the soft patter of the silver glitter as it was blown onto his sweaty body. The moment was surreal, all fantasy, like a fairy tale: an adult one.
"Awe, that feels good." Daniel stopped and looked down at his sparkly body and caught Darren looking too.
Darren shook it off and grabbed the skirt, tearing a white ruffle off of the front. "Now put this on."
It slid up easily enough but felt drafty. Daniel retrieved his boots and struggled to get them on while standing up. Sitting on a box, he managed better to pull on the right one, then the left. Mid pull he realized that he was flashing Darren in doing so.
"I guess I'm not shy."
"No, you're definitely not," Darren exhaled as if he was holding his breath for a long time. "If you want, I can hang onto your shirt and pants until later."
"That would be cool." Daniel pulled up the front of the costume. It was tight on his chest, so tight that it only went down the center, leavin
g his pectorals exposed.
Darren took over and tied the thin strap around Daniel's neck when the sudden blast of loud music startled them both.
"I can't leave you alone for five seconds," Stina cattily said with one green hand on his hip and another that held a tequila sunrise. His painted jaw dropped at the sight of Daniel. "Oh my God, girl, that is..." Stina burst into laughter, "...divine."
"He is a sexy little thing," Darren commented with a knowing look.
Daniel blushed under the glitter and looked away, unable to hide the smile on his face.
Stina cleared his throat. "Darren, you do know that he's Pat's boyfriend."
"It figures." Darren backed off.
"What about Patrick? He's nice."
Darren continued to back away. "God, I don't know how he does it. It's been nice meeting you, Daniel."
Daniel felt awkward yet again. He was dying to find a mirror to see how bad things were, gladly accepting the drink instead. Half of it was gone in a gulp. "I needed that. How did you know my drink, anyway?"
"Max got it and filled me in on a few things."
Daniel forgot about the mirror. "What kind of things?"
"You know, things I should know." Stina moved some naked pictures from one side of the desk, revealing an ashtray and a picture frame with some lines of white powder underneath. "Here, do one of these and finish your drink, because it's time to work."
Darren, in a pseudo shocked tone, said, "He's new. You don't just..."
Stina lowered his monstrous gaze. "He is with Pat."
"Never mind," Darren clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth.
"This is cool...in here?" The surprise washed over Daniel.
"Welcome to Trade, Danny boy." Stina waited for Daniel's next move, and once a line was done, he turned to Darren, "And what can I get for you, miss thing?"
"I need some Absolut and a bottle of Rumplemintz for station seven."
"Yeah, Eddie was asking for Rumplemintz," Daniel remembered the beefy jock's order.
Darren turned and looked at Daniel, adding, "I think he'll fit right in."
Stina unlocked and opened storage again, the liquor bottles clanging as he passed them on to Darren. "There you go."
"Thanks, I'm out of here," Darren went out of the door. A momentary blast of techno thumped in and faded out.