I took a deep breath and let it out, trying to marshal my thoughts into a logical order. When Ellegrandé had greeted us just now, I couldn’t help but notice that something was missing from her introductory speech.
She hadn’t told them about the fraternization rule. So Lucky and Harley didn’t know they weren’t supposed to do that. Unless she had somehow told them already. In which case, they were flouting it.
Harley had taken off his jacket and hung it over the back of Lucky’s chair and was arranging a number of wash bags and cases on the desk in front of Lucky while Lucky took off his gym shirt and put on a headband.
“Let me get that for you,” Anthony said, jumping up and taking the jacket, carrying it over and hanging it up on the costume rack.
“Thank you, Anthony,” Lucky beamed. “That is so sweet of you.”
Anthony smiled. “So how did you two meet, anyway?”
Lucky leaned back in his chair as Harley took a round of pancake make up and a sponge out of one of the wash bags and started applying make up to Lucky’s face.
“Well, I,” he spluttered a little as the sponge passed over his lips. “Harl—not when I’m talking—”
I watched them, and a thought occurred to me which was even more disturbing than their blatant PDA.
Lucky Penny knew how to do her own make up.
Right?
“I spotted him one night on the dance floor at Cosmosis,” Harley said, running the sponge over the curves of Lucky’s face in a practiced way. “And he was wearing this big feather boa and I had to have it. So I took it and then I saw the cute boy hiding underneath, so I had to have him, too,” Harley grinned down at Lucky, then leaned down and placed a kiss on his lips.
“And we’ve been married for almost two years now,” Lucky said when Harley resumed applying his foundation.
Maybe Harrie Debby just liked to do her husband’s make up once in a while. Maybe Lucky was nervous and wanted her here for emotional support. Maybe Harrie Debby wanted to make sure we all knew exactly who Lucky Penny was, and that we treated her right.
It could be a number of things like that.
I crossed my fingers and started to pray.
“Congratulations,” Anthony said, smiling sweetly at them in the mirror.
“That is so wonderful,” Clarion Call piped up from her station, followed by a heavy sigh.
I saw Clarion and Anthony’s eyes meet in the mirror and then Anthony got up, crossed the room, and leaned down to give Clarion a big hug.
Oh hell no.
They were both shirtless. I saw the contrast of their skin tones. I saw how Anthony’s hands ran over the smooth skin of Clarion’s arms. Anthony whispered something in Clarion’s ear, then went back and sat down.
Was he doing it on purpose?
Because of how Lucky and Harley were constantly kissing?
Was he trying to show that he didn’t care about the rules and he was going to do whatever he wanted and damn the consequences?
He had given me that little speech about rules this morning. Did he think that because we had taken him back after fraternizing, that meant there weren’t going to be any consequences if he did it again?
I had told him not to get involved with Clarion Call. When he was crying. Looked like he was completely ignoring my advice.
“I’m just going through a big break up,” Clarion said. I could hear the tears in his voice. “So it’s just—nice to see, you know, that it can work out.”
At this comment, I saw Lucky and Harley’s hands find each other and squeeze tightly on the counter top.
“Aw, sweetheart,” Lucky reached out his free hand across the counter toward Clarion. “Hugs.” Lucky looked at Anthony in the mirror. “Sweetie, didn’t you say you went through a break up recently as well?”
Anthony nodded.
“Oh, poor things,” Harley said. “So this is the House of Broken Hearts at the moment.”
“Machyl, what about you?” Lucky asked, his round blue eyes finding me in the reflection.
I looked around at all of them and I was seized by the irrational desire to stand up and scream at the top of my lungs.
“My boyfriend of two years just left me on Tuesday,” I said flatly. “I caught them in the bathroom at Cosmosis that night.”
Their faces could serve as holes in crazy golf, that was how wide open their mouths were.
“I—I am so sorry,” Clarion Call got up from his station now.
“I had no idea you were hurting so much.”
He came and wrapped his arms around me like it was Pay-It-Onward Day, Hug Edition. I watched myself in the mirror so I could monitor my expression and make sure I wasn’t grimacing. I didn’t want to feel his bare skin against mine. He smelled like vanilla and men’s deodorant.
“We are so sorry, too,” Harley said, frowning and nodding at me as he ran a glue stick over Lucky’s eyebrows. “I think all of you girls need to treat yourselves to plenty of self care right now. Get your chocolate, and your massages and your weepy movies, alright?”
I nodded along with the others.
“And then get out there,” Harley raised his free arm and posed it around his face in a number of arms control movements. “And start fucking your little hearts out, alright girlies!”
He cackled like a hyena and everyone else started laughing like crazy, so I did my best to join in.
“Don’t wait too long, girls,” he crowed, prancing around Lucky’s chair and swishing imaginary skirts. “There’s all those studs out there waiting and their balls will fall off if you let them go blue for too long!”
I plastered a smile on my face so Harley wouldn’t be offended if he looked at me.
Anthony was face down in the contouring palette, his rib cage shaking, and Clarion had tears streaming down his face. The longer everyone laughed, the more I started to feel amused too, and I let out an actual chuckle.
But I was looking at Anthony, and I could have sworn that as he lifted his face he looked into the mirror and made eye contact with Clarion Call. And I could have sworn they shared a long look with a smile growing on Anthony’s face and the exact same light of mischief sparking in his eye that he had just directed at me.
The laugh died on my lips and my face fell like wet clay.
“Anyway, girls,” Harley continued as he started applying highlights to Lucky Penny’s face. “Let me give you some news that may give you a little more hope for your futures.”
“Ooh, what is it?” Clarion sat up straighter and looked round at them with a big smile on his face.
Well, he sure cheered up quick.
Harley and Lucky were sharing a secret little smile. Then Lucky looked around and the smile got bigger.
“Well,” he said, and now I saw his eyes fill with tears. “We’re going to be daddies.”
The reaction could not have been more hysterical if you had given a group of teenage girls backstage passes to Chip Cooper.
Clarion and Anthony both got up, now with tears in their eyes, and I took that as my queue to join in as they exchanged hugs with Harley and Lucky.
After several minutes of crying and hugging, everyone went back to their stations to dab their make up back into shape.
I didn’t know how much more of this I could take.
I was actually longing to be in the office getting on with some work, and that was quite a statement, because ninety percent of my work was insanely boring.
“We just got the news a few days ago,” Lucky said, as Harley started to fix his contouring which had run. “The fertilization was successful and we are just over the moon. There are three viable zygotes, so—argh! We just don’t know what to do with ourselves!”
“Three?” Clarion looked aghast.
“Well,” Harley said. “Chances are not all of those will survive. We just need one.”
They were looking at each other again.
Resisting the urge to stick out my tongue and go urgh was incredibly difficult.
“Where are they?” Anthony asked. “The—um, the eggs?”
“The beautiful mama is in Bangkok, Thailand,” Harley said proudly.
“Oh, so your baby will be half Thai?” Anthony asked.
“Noooo,” Harley said as they both shook their heads. “The surrogate is Thai. Our egg donor is Australian. Five foot eleven, blonde, gorgeous green eyes, and she’s a physicist. Very high IQ.”
“Wow,” Anthony blinked.
I would bet half my month’s rent that Anthony knew little to nothing about the wonderful world of gay baby-making.
“So in a few months’ time,” Lucky said, his eyes closed as Harley carefully applied false eyelashes. “I’ll be a Stay At Home Papa. No more work and of course, no more time for hobbies like this.” He shrugged happily, dislodging one of the eyelashes. “I’ll be there in the coffee shop with the bassinet in the middle of the day, you know.”
“Monkey, you moved,” Harley said.
“Oh, sorry, Pumpkin,” Lucky whispered.
“When’s the due date?” I asked, with my face as happy as I could get it. Being in front of the mirror helped—it made it easier to constantly monitor my expression.
“Monkey, did they give us one?” Harley asked, applying glitter to Monkey’s brow bone. “They haven’t given us an exact date. But, you know, nine months, give or take.” He laughed.
With my fake smile firmly in place, I planted my hands firmly on the counter and got to my feet. “Excuse me for a minute.”
I went out and walked down the corridor and into the bottle store and sat down on the rolling stool and took several long, deep breaths.
The ceiling-height shelves rose above me, stacked with big trays of soda cans and packages of napkins and plastic straws, one neon strip light on the ceiling providing not quite enough illumination.
Duane Tyrone had refused to tell me who the new girls were when he got back from the drag mothers on Monday. I had planned to look them up as soon as I found out their drag names.
But once Tuesday night happened, I had the feeling that if I looked them up, I might not like what I found. And now it was clear my instincts had been correct.
Did DT know that Lucky Penny was only going to be here in the short term? Did he keep that from me on purpose?
I didn’t even want to consider the unasked question. If he had hidden that, what else was he hiding?
I took my phone out of my pocket and considered it.
No.
I stood up, put it back in my pocket. Good or bad, I was about to see these girls in drag for the first time. And that was going to tell me everything I needed to know.
I could look them up later.
I walked back out of the bottle store. You had to go that way to get to the club if you wanted to use the bathroom, so I had an excuse for coming this way.
I opened the dressing room door to loud laughter. Everyone was laughing fit to burst once again.
I folded my arms. I was not amused. With all these tears of laughter, how was anyone going to be able to keep their eye make up on. Anyway, it just wasn’t professional. This wasn’t a slumber party. We had a job to do.
I massaged my temple. It had been such a long week. After this I just wanted to go home and lie on the couch and turn my brain off. But I had so much work to do since I hadn’t been in the office on Friday.
And if I went home and was alone, I knew what would happen. The same thing that had been happening any time I was alone for the past few days. And I wasn't sure how I was going to deal with that if it happened again.
I closed my eyes and took another deep breath. It didn’t help.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Harley, who was still in stitches pointed at me. “He didn’t hear it. You have to hear Clarion’s story, Machyl.”
Clarion shook his head, waving his hand, helpless with laughter.
“Ladies,” I said. “I hate to interrupt, but we are on a schedule.”
“Sorry, Machyl,” Lucky said as Harley dabbed her cheeks with a tissue. “We’ll be good from now on. We promise.”
I sat back down. My face was only half finished and we needed to start in less than an hour.
“Machyl.”
Him saying my name was like he had reached inside me, grabbed hold and twisted. I turned in my seat, my stomach flip-flopping. “Yeah?”
He pointed. “Can you get my wig, please?”
I remembered what I had said to him the last time he asked me to do that. I had told him his skin tone didn’t suit the wig. And it had been blatantly untrue. I had said it because the combination looked stunning, and that had irritated me like an itch deep inside that I had no hope of scratching.
I stood up and took the dummy head carefully down and handed it to him. His fingers brushed against mine on the neck of the dummy and I shivered. He was reaching toward me, going for my ear.
I leaned down and he whispered. His breath tickled my ear and I shivered again, harder. “He had to leave his old house because…” he paused, drew back and looked at me.
“What?” I said.
He put his hand on my arm and pulled me back down. “He fucked his drag mother.” Another warm breath in my ear and I felt my knees go weak. “How’s that for incest?”
Then he turned and went back to his station.
I made it back to my station and sat there, trying to look normal. Trying to act normal.
I went through all the motions.
I finished my make up.
I got out my tape and took off my pants and tucked. I glued on my silicone parts to make my silhouette look like a woman’s. I pulled on my tight shape wear to hold it all in place and give the clothes the right shape.
And then I went over to the costume rack and took down my gown, checked it over, steamed out a few wrinkles. I went through all the motions I had done several times a week for the past seven years.
But inside, I was panicking.
I wasn’t panicking because we had one drag queen who couldn’t do her own make up and who was going to leave in a few months anyway.
I wasn’t panicking because of the PDA in the dressing room.
I wasn’t even panicking because our other new drag queen had committed one of the biggest taboos in all of drag.
And then for some reason given to us.
I wasn’t panicking because it now seemed clear that we ended up with the drag queen equivalent of yesterday’s garbage.
I was panicking because it was now undeniable.
I had a crush on Anthony Alcantara.
A big one.
“Okay, girls!” Clarion Call called out from his seat directly behind me. “Whaddaya think?”
I turned around in my chair to look at her.
She was dressed in a long gown, long-sleeved and high-necked, tight all through the arms, bodice and thighs, which flared to a huge fishtail at the knee. It was made of pink and yellow paisley-patterned brocade shot through with silver.
She turned and showed off the back. Her silhouette was, I had to admit, breathtaking, her butt and hip padding forming a perfect upside-down heart. Meanwhile, the back of her actual dress had a heart-shaped keyhole which extended from her shoulder blades to the crack of her butt, which actually peeked slightly above the lowest point of the heart.
I stared. I needed to know how she achieved that shape.
She turned back around and smiled prettily at all of us.
On her head was a 60s beehive at least a foot and a half high, wide at the top, candy floss pink and filled with big round curls. And on her upper lip, perched pertly above her frosted pale pink lips, was a long, curled, perfectly styled, candy floss pink handlebar mustache.
I turned around in my seat, picked up my phone and looked up the website of Larry’s Last Drag. I went to the profiles page but there was no sign of her. She had been removed already.
I shook my head. I was a fucking idiot. I closed the tab and just did a general search for Clarion Call.
The re
sults made me close my eyes.
No.
I went to one of her social media profiles and started scrolling through the pictures. One after another. Again and again.
Clarion Call in a cascade of blonde curls and a big ol’ horseshoe ’tache in the same shade. Clarion Call in a long, straight, jet black center-parted Morgana wig and matching Fu Manchu trailing down past her chin. Clarion Call with a mousy brown bob and mousy brown pencil mustache.
I closed the tab. I didn’t need to see any more. I pulled up my chat with DT and sent one message:
I think you need to come down here
By the time the door opened from DT’s side, I was stepping into my current fave dress and carefully pulling it on.
Ellegrandé floated into the room, smiling beatifically. I tried to make eye contact with her but she ignored me.
“Miss Clarion Call,” she said. “Welcome, child.”
I damn near broke my jaw from it hitting the floor.
Clarion Call, who had just stepped into a pair of pink heels, shimmied over to her with tiny steps—the dress was very tight on the legs—and gave her a big hug. “Thank you, Mama!”
Ellegrandé returned the hug and they both stood back to look at Lucky Penny, who was still seated.
“Don’t look at us yet, Mama,” Harley warned, tugging a wig onto Lucky’s head firmly. He got up and opened a big, cylindrical cardboard box on the floor which I had assumed was a wig box, and took out a huge white feathered hat with a red tassel hanging down the front.
What on Earth…
He placed it carefully on top of the wig, which was a plain-looking dark brown jaw-length 40s bob set with pin curls and settled the strap under Lucky’s chin. He came back around the front and made a few last touches.
“Okay,” he whispered.
Lucky grinned back at him, then hopped up out of her seat like a Jack-in-the-Box and struck a pose with one leg pulled up to her chest. She was holding something in her hand and pointing it up in the air.
I shuffled over to see. Her chair was opposite Anthony’s, so I had to go past him. He had turned his chair around, looking on, in his wig, make up and shape wear.
Fishy Queen (Drag Queen Beauty Pageant Book 2) Page 22