Fishy Queen (Drag Queen Beauty Pageant Book 2) Read online

  Fishy Queen

  Malachite Splinters

  Copyright © 2017 by Malachite Splinters

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Author’s Note

  1. Selfish Talk

  2. No Auditions

  3. Angel Wings

  4. Who’s Day

  5. When’s Day

  6. Her Day

  7. High Day

  8. Flatter Day

  9. Some Day

  Done Day

  Friday

  10. Saturday

  11. Sunday

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.

  Selfish Talk

  I sat on the uncomfortable couch in DT’s lounge and called Damaris. It rang and rang, and I started to think she wasn’t going to answer.

  “Hey, boo,” she said, finally picking up.

  “Hi, boo,” I booed her right back. I actually felt relieved. If she was calling me boo, she couldn’t be that mad.

  “So I guess you’re calling to try to get me to come back,” she said.

  “No, no, Damaris, I would never do that,” I said soothingly.

  “So why are you calling, then?”

  I pursed my lips. So she was still mad. Normally I would turn on the video, but I felt like that was going to make things even more awkward.

  “No reason,” I protested innocently. “Can’t I call my girl?”

  “What was that last night?” She asked, her tone grating. “Answer me that.”

  “You pick up the phone with pet names, and then straight into this?” I asked, sounding hurt. I was a little hurt.

  “Don’t try that guilt trip on me, Machyl,” she said flatly. “Why did you come to Anthony’s last night?”

  I laughed lightly. “Damaris, that wasn't about you, honey. I’m actually surprised you’re so touchy about it.”

  “You wanted to laugh in Anthony’s face, was that it?”

  “Of course,” I said, grinning. “And you should have seen his expression when I showed up and found the two of you there. He was mortified.”

  Damaris scoffed. “You’re sick, you know that? Why can’t you just leave him alone?”

  I smiled. “Damaris, he’s going to be alone, regarding me, for the rest of his life, because he and Bone China just quit.”

  “They really left?” She said softly.

  “They surely did,” I shifted uncomfortably on the couch. It dipped so much in the back that my lower back was already starting to hurt after two minutes.

  “So…” I said slowly. “You see…”

  “Oh,” Damaris said. “No. No, you just did not.”

  I decided to change position and lay down on the couch with my head on the armrest. That was better.

  “What?” I said innocently. “I’m just saying, Damaris. You know what DT just said to me? He said, he lost three artists in the space of a half hour.”

  “You did not just go there, Machyl. You’re not going there right now. Are you?”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Damaris, we’re down to me, Brooklyn and DT. I don’t think you need to be a genius to do that mental math. We need our headliner,” I said. “Our pride and joy, Miss Damaris Rae.”

  “Oh shut the fuck up,” she laughed. “You think you can blow smoke up my ass without me noticing?”

  “I’m not,” I said. “We need you.”

  She made another scoffing sound. “I’m not having this conversation again,” she said. “If the only reason you called is to try to persuade me to come back, I’ll hang up.”

  “I’m—” I cut myself off.

  I stared at the couch upholstery, multicolored watercolor-looking velour, and stroked the nap with my finger, making it light and then dark and then light again.

  Damaris could see through BS. That was what I liked about her as a friend.

  “I’m not calling about that,” I said.

  I had told myself I was to make it easy to call her. It was easy to call her with a guilt trip about leaving me and Duane in the lurch.

  But that wasn’t what this was about.

  Damaris Rae. Duane Tyrone took her in on looks alone when she was just seventeen years old, and any drag mother worth her sequins would have done the same thing.

  Damaris’ talent was her personality. She had a natural charisma and charm to her that made her shine on a stage. She didn’t dance with precision or a lot of grace, but she brought her same personality to it the way she did with everything.

  “You are irreplaceable,” I said.

  She was silent for a long minute. Then she said, “Thanks.”

  I stroked four fingers up the upholstery, leaving four iridescent white trails. “What about Vivesse?” I asked.

  She sighed. “I said—”

  “No,” I said. “Selfish talk.”

  “Selfish talk,” she repeated, sounding sad when she said it.

  Damaris was six years younger than me, but she had never acted like a kid. And ever since we became close, our shared dream had been Vivesse.

  Vivesse Fashion and Beauty Parade.

  What else was there?

  I heard her sigh heavily again and she said, “I’m sorry, Machyl. It’s… it’s just not my dream any more. It’s been hard for you to accept that, am I right?”

  I nodded, realized she couldn’t see it, and said, “Yeah.” I smoothed the velour back down and the white stripes disappeared.

  “I know you meant well,” she said after a minute. “It was hard for me to accept.”

  “Why didn’t you talk to me about any of this?”

  “I… I tried to,” she said. “But every time, I felt like you weren’t listening. Or you didn’t take me seriously. Or you were going to try to convince me to change my mind. And that hurt, so I just shut up about it.”

  “That’s not true,” I said instantly, rolling my eyes because she couldn’t see me.

  “I wasn’t doing well,” she said. “I didn’t have the strength to defend myself to you.”

  I huffed in frustration.

  “This was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do,” she said, and I could hear her voice trembling.

  “Aw, don’t cry now,” I said, pushing my fingers into my eyes.

  “Well, it’s done now,” she said. “No looking back.”

  “Alright,” I said, although it felt like she was holding back on some things she might want to say.

  “Is that everything?” She asked.

  “Everything what?” I asked, feeling slightly alarmed. That sounded so final.

  “Is there anything else we need to talk about?” She clarified.

  Well, I didn’t exactly feel that she had given me enough of an explanation or apology, but if it seemed pointless to try to argue with her about it now, if that was her attitude toward the whole thing.

  “Are you going to apologize to Duane Tyrone?” I asked instead.

  “Me?” She said huffily. “What for?”

  “Sunday?” I suggested.

  “I’m not apologizing for that,” she said, her voice going hard. “I proved a point and I’ll never go back an
d compromise on that.”

  “I know what your point was,” I said, my voice going wry. I wasn’t mad at her about it. “But it was still something to behold.”

  She was silent for a moment, and then she said, “Well. What can I say?”

  I latched on to her words. “That good, huh?”

  Another silence. “You want to talk about it?”

  “You brought it up,” I protested, looking at the phone questioningly.

  “No I didn’t,” she said, her voice wry now. “What do you want to know?”

  “I don’t want to know anything,” I said immediately. “Please, Damaris.”

  She laughed. “You’re so full of shit. Since you ask, yeah, it was pretty fucking good.”

  “Well, that amount of noise had to have a reason behind it,” I pointed out. “Sounded like a fat queen getting stuck with a darning needle.”

  “It did not,” she shrieked, and burst into laughter. “It sounded like yours truly getting eaten out.”

  “Oh, is that what it was?” I couldn’t help grinning. “So you got Tata onto that rainbow lollipop of yours?”

  “That is not what it’s called,” she cackled and I dissolved into laughter as well.

  “So he’s pretty good with his tongue, is that what you’re saying?” I asked.

  “He said he’d never done it before,” she said in a tone that sounded like she was shrugging. “But I didn’t notice any issues. He did what I told him to.”

  “Wait,” I said, sitting up suddenly. “Now just wait. You said…”

  “That’s what he said,” she said, definitely shrugging now.

  “You came out and asked him?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “He said he was a virgin.”

  I clapped my hand over my mouth. “I can’t believe it. He was actually a virgin? He’s twenty years old!” I shook my head. “I knew it. I knew it.”

  “So are you happy now?” She asked.

  “Happy?” I said. “It’s funny. Doesn’t follow that I’m happy.”

  “You’re so twisted,” she said. “Seriously, Machyl.”

  I grinned in satisfaction. “Thank you.” I looked at myself in the reflection of the screen. “So… are you going to keep sleeping with him?”

  “No,” she said, her voice going flat.

  “Why not?” I asked.

  If Damaris found Anthony attractive, I didn’t understand that at all. It was weird, was what it was. But I wasn’t judging or anything… Of course not.

  “You just said you enjoyed it…”

  “I wouldn’t say I even want to keep being friends at this point,” she said.

  “What did he do?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “I warned him,” I said, sitting up again. “What did he do, Damaris?” I clenched my fist.

  “He didn’t,” she said shortly. “He was thoughtless and inconsiderate. But he didn’t hurt me. I think my skin is thicker than that by now.”

  “That little bitch,” I narrowed my eyes, clenching a handful of the couch fabric in my fist. “If he was here, I would make him pay for this. I knew this would happen.”

  “You’ve interfered enough,” Damaris said in the same tone of voice. “You made me part of your games, and I don’t appreciate that, Machyl.”

  “Oh, come on, Damaris, it was just—”

  “No,” she said. “I shouldn’t have stood by and watched what you were doing without saying a word, and I did.”

  “Oh, honey, don’t be so hard on yoursel—”

  “Let me talk,” she interjected. “I know you wanted Anthony out. But did you have to do it that way? He’s so impressionable. You could manipulate him as easily as— Anthony is like a white rose if you put it in colored water, it will start to take on that color. How was that a challenge for you?”

  “He changes color alright,” I quipped, then pursed my lips. “I hardly think it was that easy,” I said.

  “Bish, please,” she said in a disgusted tone. “If you think what you did means you’re smart, put a goldfish in water next week, you’ll win a Nobel prize.”

  “Look who’s talking,” I waved my hand in the air though she couldn’t see it. “You think you’re so innocent?”

  “No, I don’t, and don't try to compare us, Machyl. I know the reason why I do things.”

  I frowned. “I know why I do things, what are you talking about?”

  “Hm,” she said, and it sounded like she was smiling. “You really have no idea, do you?”

  “What do you mean?” I said. “I did it because I can’t stand the sight of Anthony Alcantara, let alone continue sharing a dressing room with him for the foreseeable future.”

  “See how much longer you can go on telling yourself that,” Damaris said. “But, ah… take it from me, it could be worth the effort.”

  I didn’t know what she was talking about, so I decided to ignore that little comment.

  “I’ll have you know,” I said. “There were—” I lowered my voice, “Other reasons.”

  She paused, and said quietly, “Selfish talk?”

  “Selfish talk,” I agreed. “I really just wanted Marcus Fong out. Tata was just a bonus.”

  “If the drag mothers could hear this conversation,” Damaris chuckled. “Where are you right now?”

  “I’m at DT’s. Lying on the couch.”

  “You’re still at the club? You sure Duane doesn’t have the place bugged?”

  I laughed. “If Duane had that level of planning in check, I wouldn’t need to be doing all of this.”

  “Well,” Damaris said. “You may be right about that. Where is he?”

  “Emergency drag mother meeting.” I sighed. “Are you okay, though? Like, are you actually okay?”

  “Machyl,” she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. “I’m great. I’m homeless,” she said. “I’m broke, and I’m unemployed. But I’m great.” She sighed. “I just learned I’m stronger than I thought I was.”

  I smiled, myself. “I always knew you were strong,” I said.

  “You just have to understand,” she said. “I didn’t want to give up our dream of being Vivesse Contessas together. I still love drag. I’ll always be a Vivesse fan. I’ll always follow New York drag. But actually doing drag was making me depressed.”

  “Well,” I said. “If you feel like stopping drag is going stop the depression…”

  “I know it is,” she said. “And I need you to not question that any more.”

  As a friend it was hard to watch her go through depression, which muted her like music volume being turned way down low, or a TV image obscured by a screenful of static.

  “Okay,” I said. “I won’t. You're a grown woman. It’s your decision.”

  “I know,” she said.

  “And are we still going to be close, even though you’re in your new post-drag life now?”

  “Of course,” she said softly.

  “Okay,” I said. “I wish you were here, so I could give you a big hug.”

  I really did wish that, too.

  “Me too,” she said. “Let’s chill soon, okay? I’ll come to yours. Sometime when you’re not busy with Angel.”

  “You’re going to come all the way to mine?” I said, surprised. “Out in public and everything?”

  “Yes,” she said firmly. “I walk down streets now and take the subway and everything.”

  “Okay,” I said, smiling. “Well, I’ll let Angel know he’ll need to take a couple hours’ break from hand-feeding me bonbons and massaging my feet so I can chill with my sister.”

  She laughed, but then went quiet. “Before I go… did DT go to the drag mothers because of me?

  “He said he already went after he caught China and Tata,” I said, to reassure her. “I was impressed. Imagine DT having his shit together.”

  “Pssh,” Damaris sounded as if she was rolling her eyes. “Listen to you. Miss Sassafras.”

  She paused.

  “I�
� I feel so bad about this, Machyl,” Damaris’ voice had gone very small. “You have no idea how many nights I laid awake, trying to figure out how I could leave without this happening.” She paused. “Or how I could stay without eventually killing myself.”

  “Don’t talk like that,” I admonished her. “DT will come around. And look at this this way,” I said, brightening my voice to cheer her up. “My plan was to get one transfer to replace Marcus, but now you’ve left as well, the mothers are going to have to give Duane two.”

  “I guess,” she said glumly. “It’s going to be so different.”

  “Baby girl,” I laughed. “You want it both ways, huh?”

  “Definitely,” she said. “It would just be so much goddamn easier if I wasn’t a woman, huh?”

  “Yeah, that was your first mistake,” I agreed, and we both burst out laughing.

  “Okay,” she said reluctantly. “I’m going to miss you. Take care, boo.”

  “You too,” I said, putting the phone down on my chest as the call ended.

  Damaris truly was my closest friend. We were closer than drag sisters.

  We could tell each other things that drag sisters could never tell each other. Damaris and I trusted each other, and we could talk about stuff without getting jealous, without fearing that one of us would run and tell DT.

  In my experience, having two artists with ambition in one house was a recipe for disaster, because the only way out in New York was a drag divorce.

  But Damaris and I could talk about plans and ambitions that didn’t align to our house loyalty. Damaris and I both had ambition, and we didn’t let that destroy us.

  So Damaris and I were something special, because we figured out early on that if we teamed up, we could accomplish far, far more. We came up with Selfish Talk and that was our own invention. And for many years, we were both committed to helping each other improve our individual careers, and helping House Ellegrandé.

  And we worked together to manage Duane Tyrone. But from now on, it would be just me and Duane Tyrone.