Fishy Queen (Drag Queen Beauty Pageant Book 2)

by Malachite Splinters

  What had DT meant by that?

  I couldn’t get away from the feeling that he had come here to undermine me.

  The door opened behind me and to my surprise, Anthony came in. He closed it behind him and just stood there, looking at me in the mirror.

  His eyes drew mine and I recognized the jealousy now. I was jealous, right now. I was so jealous, I could barely concentrate on what was happening in the rehearsal.

  He stepped forward, his eyes wide. “I—I just hooked up with Clarion in the locker room.”

  He was telling me?

  Me?

  I wanted to shake him and demand what he was doing, but I didn’t.

  I still had the image of them so strong in my mind. It was so much worse than when I saw them in the dressing room. I felt so guilty, but at the same time so turned on, I felt like it was going to tear me apart.

  I was a terrible person.

  It was a terrible thing to do, to get off on someone without their knowledge or permission.

  And it wasn’t just anyone.

  It was Anthony.

  I wanted to fall to my knees and beg him for forgiveness.

  “He said he wanted to talk,” Anthony said, his voice wavering. “He said I must have misinterpreted what he texted me. And he’s in an open relationship now.”

  “You,” I cleared my throat. “You seem upset.”

  Anthony came a lot closer. “What is that thing called where—” he made a loose fist and moved it up and down in the air. “With both—you know?”

  “Frottage?”

  “Oh,” he frowned. “I thought that was something else. Um. I—” He ran his hand over his cornrows. “Do you—think I’m his mistress?”

  He looked so distressed, I just wanted to take him in my arms. But I doubted that would be welcome.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  He hung his head, his arms crossed across his chest. “I swore to myself that I would never have casual sex,” he said. He looked up at me. “Is that what this is?”

  I shook my head. “I don't know. You certainly don’t seem very casual about it.”

  “I just…” Anthony trailed off. “I don’t know what to do. What do you think I should do?”

  I thought I was going to leave Anthony Alcantara behind. I really thought he would be out of my life by now.

  But instead, somehow he was going deeper and deeper into it with every passing hour. And not just in my own mind, in my fantasies and my dreams. In reality, too.

  Somehow he was getting closer to me all the time, of his own free will, but why?

  I cleared my throat. “You should discuss it and say what you are comfortable with and what you aren’t and figure out how it’s going to work.”

  “That sounds very mature,” he remarked, not sound very excited about the prospect. “Would you do it?” He asked, and met my eyes.

  I shook my head no.

  “Why?” He asked.

  “Because I—” I felt dangerously close to tears. “I’m looking for love.” I touched the cool, smooth porcelain of the sink and remembered my Nani’s porcelain dolls, and my favorite one, the Anthony one. “I want to believe in love,” I barely whispered. “Like you.”

  Our eyes met and I trembled. I didn’t know if he could tell.

  “Machyl—” he said, and his tone was so gentle, I thought it was going to break my heart.

  Maybe that was what I had always been afraid of.

  Maybe I had always sensed that Anthony Alcantara was going to break my heart. And I had gone on the offensive to try to make damn sure that never happened.

  But all I ended up doing was hurting myself. I had hurt myself with the bad things I had done. My soul hadn’t come out of that unscathed.

  I was starting to understand that now. That the pain I sent out into the world came back to me, bounced back into me like it was being reflected off a mirror. I had ignored it, or denied it, or justified it. But I couldn’t do that forever without consequences.

  I can forgive you, Machyl

  Is that what you want?

  A man’s cry rent the air, almost a scream.

  “What the—” Anthony exclaimed. One look between us and we both went running out of the bathroom back toward the studio.

  My worst fear was crystallizing in my mind.

  I could think of only one explanation for that scream.

  And when I got through the door just behind Anthony, I saw Lucky Penny on the floor, Clarion and DT kneeling by him, his legs stretched out in front of him, holding his ankle and wincing.

  “I must have dismounted wrong,” he was saying. “I probably just twisted it,” he grimaced and gritted his teeth.

  “I think I heard something snap,” Clarion said. “You need to go to the emergency room.”

  “Oh, no,” Luka looked agonized. “I can’t be injured now. We have the dress rehearsal on Wednesday!”

  “Child,” DT said calmly. “The only thing that matters is that you’re okay. Now I’ll take you there, so the other girls can go on rehearsing.”

  Luka nodded, his face pale and distorted. He must be in a lot of pain. “I need to call my husband,” he said, lifting his arm. “Can someone find my phone?”

  Clarion and I ended up carrying him down to the reception where a cab was waiting and he and DT were quickly gone.

  Then it was just me, Clarion, Anthony and 80s, who had called the cab.

  “Well, I’m calling it a night,” Clarion Call declared, going behind Anthony and wrapping his arms around his shoulders. Anthony didn’t push him away, but didn’t do anything to return the gesture either. “What do you say to a little House of Cosmosis?” He leaned down to look at Anthony.

  I frowned. I felt dazed, my mind fuzzy like my head was being fumigated, the whole thing filled with thick smoke. Maybe it was the dry ice from the champagne cocktail last Tuesday.

  Everything had happened so fast. Luka had done his routine without putting the mats down, and now he was injured. I felt sick to my stomach. It was my fault. It was absolutely, completely my fault.

  “Cosmosis?” 80s grinned wildly. “How bout a double date?”

  Anthony looked at me. I could see the shock in his face.

  80s looked at his phone. “My shift just ended two minutes ago. Handsome, what do you say?”

  I wasn’t sure if he actually knew my name or not. “I’m game,” I said, because right now I needed to get out of own head for so many reasons.

  “Come over here,” 80s led us to his reception desk and disappeared behind the counter. When he came up he was holding a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses.

  “Keep this for special occasions,” he made another one of his faces, an exaggerated party-hardy rock out face, his tongue sticking out, eyes rolled upwards in his head. “No salt or lemon but,” he shrugged, and poured out two shots pretty sloppily on the counter. “Drink up.”

  Clarion gave one of them to Anthony. “You have that,” he said to me. “We’ll share.”

  I tried not to show what I thought of this. I picked up the glass and downed it, smacking my lips as it burned.

  “Yyyeah, Handsome,” 80s nodded appreciatively and gave me a crazy wink as he refilled the glasses.

  “Your health, Akaris,” Clarion held up his glass and they clinked before downing.

  “Wait,” I said, peering at them both. “Do you know each other?”

  They nodded.

  I pursed my lips. “What, do all white people know each other?”

  “Thought that was black people,” 80s shot back, then made a big old goofy face at me. He seemed to be able to move his ears at will.

  “Okay, so do all Willemsburg hipdippers know each other?”

  “He lives like two blocks down from me,” Clarion admitted sheepishly. “We always see each other at Larry’s.”

  “Best gay bar in New York,” 80s splayed his hands out. “No competish. Not just Booklyn. Best in New York Cit-ay.”

  Lord, th
is one got obnoxious fast. I liked him better when his mouth was full.

  He pointed at me. “What’s your place?”

  “House of Ellegrandé Drag Cabaret,” I said, with a prickle of defensiveness.

  He narrowed his eyes. “Never heard of it.”

  “Give me another one of those,” I said, gesturing at the bottle. I was going to get depressed fast if I started thinking about the club and DT and all of that.

  80s did so, and that turned into another round for everyone, except Anthony, who declined, saying he was already getting drunk.

  “My cheap little date,” Clarion said affectionately, and turned Anthony’s face up and kissed him in front of all of us.

  “Okay, men,” 80s said, putting on exactly the vintage store 80s turquoise-and-gold shell suit windbreaker I would expect him to wear. “I’m ready.”

  “Hold on,” Clarion said, tapping on his phone one-handed because the other was around Anthony. “I read about tonight’s event. It’s only once a month.”

  He thumbed some more, frowning.

  “Caribbean Cruise!” He announced. “DJs spin the latest in dancehall, reggae, roots and soca while you eye up a partner—for a dance, a night or wherever the trade winds lead…. etcetera,” he trailed off. “Anyway,” he put the phone in his pocket. “Machyl, you have to teach us how to dance.”

  “Dance?” I looked at him. He had spent the entire week trying to avoid me teaching him to dance.

  “Yeah,” he grinned. “Before I go to this thing, I need to know how to twerk.”

  The music was good. The dance floor was heaving.

  Someone topped up my glass as I watched the dancers from the balcony.

  When we arrived at Cosmosis, bell hop had spotted us coming up the steps and directed us to the VIP entrance. The maitre d’ had shown us personally to another private table and brought over a bottle of champagne and told us it was all on the house, compliments of Harrie Debby.

  I put the glass down. I had planned to nurse this one for as long as possible. I’d had two shots already and I didn’t want the alcohol to affect my performance later. I noticed that 80s wasn’t drinking heavily either, so that was positive.

  There was nothing worse than a date who got wasted and ended up good for nothing at the end of the night, stinking from his very pores and with a bad case of booze dick.

  Clarion, on the other hand, was liberal with the drinks. He must have downed two glasses of champagne since we got here forty-five minutes ago, and he was topping up everyone’s glasses and if I wasn’t mistaken, he had just signaled the waiter to order another.

  Well, if he thought I was paying for that, he had another thing coming.

  “So Handsome,” 80s’ hand trailed up my arm and he pressed close to my side. He was sitting on a velvet poof pushed right up next to mine. “You want to go down there and strut your stuff?”

  I looked up to see Anthony watching, his eyes on 80s. Clarion had his arm around him but I thought that Anthony didn’t look that into it. I noticed Clarion tried to kiss him several times and Anthony had turned away.

  I really didn’t want to flirt with 80s in front of Anthony. It made me feel extremely awkward. I was really having second thoughts about this whole double date thing.

  I was determined to go through with my plan, though, so I didn’t seem to have a choice. I turned to 80s and, trying for coy, asked, “So which one do you want to be?”

  I was hoping he would say winer instead of winee, to confirm that he was going to top me. I highly doubted he was a rigid bottom, just based on his personality and demeanor.

  He grinned and ran a hand down my back, to the top of my butt where it met the chair, and just held his hand there, then looked at me and waggled his eyebrows.

  I laughed and smacked his knee, but when he leaned in to kiss me, I reached forward and grabbed my drink and sipped the tiniest amount I could.

  It had actually been pretty fun teaching them the basics. And when we were at the studio and I had a little buzz going, it seemed like a really good idea to come here.

  But now we were here, everything felt wrong.

  As if to prove this, Anthony backed away from Clarion, went around the table, and plunked himself down on another of the velvet poofs.

  Clarion leaned toward him, gesturing with his phone

  Anthony shook his head.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, feeling concerned now.

  Clarion rolled his eyes. “Julian’s here,” he said. “He wants to meet Anthony.”

  I frowned.

  Then Clarion stood up as a man appeared at the end of the couch, which was a hand-held mirror. I tensed, and got ready to stand up, too.

  The man was about Clarion’s height but not thin and weedy like Clarion was. He had a good shape around his chest and shoulders, but also a little beer belly paunch. He wore thick glasses and he had bright red hair and freckles and a lot of tattoos covering his arms. He looked to be in his mid to late thirties.

  “Hi, baby,” Clarion said, going toward him. I could only just hear over the music.

  Julian said something, possibly, “Is it him?” And pointed at me.

  Presumably all Clarion had told him about Anthony was that he was black. I wanted to cup my hand around my mouth and shout, “I’m not fucking your boyfriend.” But I didn’t.

  I looked back at Anthony, who looked absolutely terrified, and I squared my shoulders. I was between him and Julian and there was no way I was letting that change.

  When Julian caught sight of Anthony, I reached my arm out on the table, showing that I was blocking the path and if he wanted to get to him, he had to go through me.

  But Julian didn’t go on the attack. He caught sight of 80s after that, and the look of outrage on his face only increased and he pointed at 80s, then back at Clarion, and he was clearly saying things, but I couldn’t hear what.

  And then all that happened was he and Clarion started to have a very loud argument which devolved into furious screaming and Julian storming off, followed by Clarion collapsing on the couch and bursting into tears.

  Anthony stayed where he was, eyes darting between Clarion and 80s and I. Evidently he wasn’t interested in going and comforting him.

  To my great surprise, a minute later, 80s leaned toward me and said in my ear, “Don’t take this personally. Clarion and I go way back.”

  And he got up, went over to the couch and put his arms around Clarion. Within thirty seconds, they were making out like tonsil hockey season had just started.

  I was so mystified by this series of events that all I could do was turn to Anthony and hold my hands up as if to say, Do you understand what’s going on?

  He stared at me with huge eyes and shook his head no.

  I pointed to the dance floor. “Let’s go down there.”

  He nodded.

  We left.

  But on the way there, I noticed some really good music coming out of the dance floor on this level, which was located right behind the private tables.

  There were actually four dance floors at Cosmosis. This one was smaller, darker, more intimate than the big main floor in front of the stage, and it didn’t have any views or anything. It was just for dancing, or sitting on the couches that lined the walls.

  “Let’s go in here,” I said. “It’s less crowded than the main floor.”

  Anthony followed me. It was still crowded, and once we got inside, very dark. I felt his hand on my arm again. He was holding on to not get lost.

  When we got far enough in, I doubted my decision to come in here. It was very dark, very close, all the couches were full of couples eating each others’ faces. And just at that moment, the upbeat music which I had wanted to come in for ended, and the sounds of lover’s rock filled the air.

  “Maybe we should go,” I had to lean down and talk into Anthony’s ear because it was so loud.

  He turned and spoke into my ear. I could feel how close he was. “Isn’t this like that restaurant
?”

  I looked at him. “Bacchanal’s?”

  He nodded. “You said you couldn’t dance there.”

  I frowned and nodded right back. This conversation was giving me a strange feeling in my chest.

  “Dance with me,” he said into my ear, turning a little so his chest was facing mine, and I felt his hand on my upper arm. “Show me.”

  I turned my face to his ear. “Turn around,” I said, and my heart quaked as I moved my hands down his sides, only touching lightly, until he was in front of me, just bare contact between his body and mine.

  He craned his neck, turning his head around and up. I bent my head down and his lips found my ear. “Do it.” His hands found mine and covered them, pressing them onto his hips. “Don’t hold back,” his voice buzzed in my ear, if he had whispered I wouldn’t have heard against the music.

  So I pulled him against me, so we were close together, and I started to move my hips and said into his ear, “Go with my motion.”

  And he did, and I could feel his heat against me and the music flowed through me, through us, and the heat built steadily as our hips moved together, my head bent down and touching his just as if I was about to say something in his ear.

  I started to feel like I was someone else, and it was magical. It was so dark, he was so warm and real and close and his hands were over mine and the blood was pouring through my veins in time to the music, pouring and pooling below my navel.

  And then he started to do something I had taught them earlier, how to roll your hips to rub your butt against your partner’s crotch, and yes, that was wining, even though they laughed.

  Anthony started doing it now, slow and rhythmic, and I thought I was going to pass out. I closed my eyes and held on to his hips and leaned my head against his and the pleasure slowly built, not just in the obvious place, but it felt like through my whole body.

  He turned his head and looked at me. It was dark, but I could see his eyes, big and so dark themselves. He reached up one hand to my cheek. And then he kissed me.

  His soft lips met mine, very warm and already moist, he must have just licked them. His lips parted and I felt an indescribable sense of intimacy to have touched his lips, let alone anything beyond, be it his front teeth or his tongue.