Drag Queen Beauty Pageant Page 6

  I was messing this up. I was actually, really, totally screwing this up. Panic pounded at me.

  I was frozen, completely frozen.

  I stood there, blinking into the bright lights, until finally I managed to move my mouth a bit, and I managed to catch a word here or there at the end of each line.

  At that point I sensed movement behind me and two figures appeared in my peripheral vision. It was Bone China and Shanghai Li’l, here to lipsynch the chorus.

  I saw them moving and suddenly remembered that there were dance moves in this part of the song.

  I started trying to move my body, but my movements were jerky and uncoordinated, I had started late and I got confused, and at some point I realized I was in hell, I was in hell and I was never, ever going to get out.

  Bone China caught my eye as I turned, having missed the move, and she smiled at me and gave me a little wink.

  This small act of kindness was too much and tears started spilling down my face. When the first sob wracked my chest, I turned tail and ran off the stage.

  Right when I was about to get to the wings, my half-numb right foot betrayed me and somehow my shoe got caught in one of the stage curtains and I went down like a bowling pin, flat on my chest, winding me, and bringing down the curtain and half the curtain rail with it.

  I blinked up at the ceiling of my bedroom, blinked back tears as well.

  After that night, I hadn’t been allowed back on the stage. I had been assigned—more or less permanently, it now seemed—to assisting the other girls and doing mingle duty several times a week in the club.

  No wonder Machyl called me the house bitch.

  I picked up the phone and found the House of Ellegrandé group chat.

  I’m sick. [green nauseated emoji] Looks like food poisoning. I’m going to stay home tonight.

  There were notifications in Damaris’ chat as well. All I could see was the first message: Damaris: Anthony?

  I turned the screen off and tossed the phone away on the bed, and sat up slowly. I had no idea how long I had been lying here, thinking about that awful night.

  I got up from the bed and turned the light on. I thought about getting something for dinner, but I didn’t feel hungry and the idea of trying to eat just made me feel nauseous, so there was no point in leaving the bedroom anyway.

  I closed my eyes and felt the tears slipping down my cheeks exactly as they had the night of my failure.

  I was in love with Damaris. I was. I had never been in love before. And I loved her so much, sometimes it hurt just to breathe around her and I felt as if it were going to rise up and suffocate me.

  And what had I done?

  I had done—that—with Marcus.

  Marcus, who I didn’t even like, let alone love.

  No, I wasn't in a relationship with Damaris. But that didn’t mean I shouldn’t be loyal to her.

  I had been unfaithful to my own feelings.

  I had ruined it.

  Ruined the perfect love for her which had lived inside me like a rainbow-tinged bubble blown on a summer’s day.

  My love for Damaris had been unblemished. Now it would be forever tainted by this stain.

  And the worst part was that my heart was pure.

  My heart didn’t love Marcus.

  It didn’t really even like Marcus.

  It was my body which had betrayed me, like an enemy within—like a sleeper agent waiting to sell me out. And I hated it for that.

  I hated myself.

  I had betrayed my most basic principles, my core beliefs. Right before Marcus kissed me, I had sat there thinking about how much better I was than the rest of them. How I was principled, but they weren’t.

  Ha! The voice in the back of my mind was laughing at me openly now. You stole Damaris’ boyfriend, you hussy!

  When Damaris found out about this… I choked on a sob.

  It was over.

  This was unforgivable.

  It was an unforgivable sin to kiss someone else’s boyfriend.

  It was an unforgivable sin to kiss someone else’s boyfriend while his boner rubbed against your own through your jeans while he was lying top of you.

  Oh, I’ve really done it this time.

  And it had to be—it had to be my first kiss, didn’t it? I wiped my face, my chest hiccoughing hard. I had waited so long for it…

  And you had to go and ruin it, the voice sniggered. You ruined your first kiss.You really are a class A fuck up.

  I threw myself down on the bed and put a pillow over my face and pressed down on it hard. I wanted to scream. It was so unfair.

  My phone was buzzing.

  I threw the pillow away and sat up and turned the screen on. Damaris was calling.

  Oh, St Sebastian, help me.

  “Hello?” I didn’t want to answer, but I could never ignore a call from Damaris.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” I said. She must be able to tell I had been crying.

  “Sorry I was mad at you today,” she said.

  “That’s—that’s okay,” I said, hating myself because she should be mad at me. But if I told her—if I told her right now—

  She’ll hate me forever.

  “I’m just so glad it was you,” she said. “I know you never told anyone all this time, just like I asked you when you joined DT’s.”

  “Of course,” I said, feeling relieved. “I would never tell anyone. You know that.”

  “It was really fucking dumb of me to do that,” she said. “We hadn’t hooked up in literally six months and it’s not going to happen again. Okay?”

  “Oh,” I said, feeling confused. “Is—is Marcus—do you—”

  “No!” She said forcefully. “We are not an item.”

  “But you—” I stuttered. “You like him, right?”

  “Naw,” she drawled. “He’s so not my type. You know that.”

  I sat there with two emotions battling each other in me. I felt relieved that she didn’t like Marcus after all. But on the other hand, this only made me more confused as to why she had hooked up with him if he wasn’t her type.

  And you are the same type as Marcus, the voice whispered in my head. She’s never going to like you.

  I wasn’t hoping she would! I hissed at the voice. Stupid fucking voice.

  You’re a little lying bitch, the voice giggled.

  “Um,” I said. “Okay. So,” I cleared my throat. “You don’t like him.”

  “Anthony,” she said more insistently. “He and I are not a couple and I do not like him. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I said.

  “You sound real convinced,” she said, a slightly tetchy tone in her voice.

  If she didn’t like Marcus, then why would she have sex with him? This was what I didn’t understand. It made no sense. It was just like Marcus saying that he didn’t like Damaris, and yet he had had sex with her.

  I would never have sex with someone I didn’t love, let alone someone I didn’t even like.

  Sometimes I felt like the older I got, and the more I was supposed to understand the grown up world, the more confusing and nonsensical it got.

  I hated it.

  “I’m convinced,” I said. “Are you still mad at me?”

  “No,” she said. She sighed. “It wasn’t about you. I— took it out on you and I’m sorry.”

  “That’s, um, that’s okay,” I said.

  So she didn’t love Marcus and they weren’t a couple. So I hadn’t kissed her boyfriend, after all.

  Don’t try and whitewash what you did, the voice sneered. You still betrayed your own heart.

  “So you’re sick?” She asked.

  “Yeah,” I put my hand over my stomach as if to convince myself of that. “I must have eaten something.”

  “Well, take care of yourself,” she said.

  “How about you?” I asked. “Are you excited about the show tonight?”

>   “Um,” she sounded hesitant. “You know, DT just came in and told me about that yesterday.”

  “Oh,” I said. So he had sprung it on her at the last minute. “Are you mad at him?”

  “Uh,” she said. “I… I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Oh, okay,” I said, feeling slightly hurt. Had I said something wrong?

  “Alright, boo,” she said. “I got to go. I’ll hit you up later, okay?”

  “Okay,” I said.

  “Um, Anthony,” she said. “I don’t know if I made this clear enough. If you want to go out with Marcus, don’t let me stop you. I’m not in this picture.”

  I was so surprised I just stared at my phone for several seconds. “I—um,” I said. “I don’t like him. And anyway, that would be fraternization.”

  “Okay,” she said. “Just wanted to say it. Bye, sweetie.”

  She hung up.

  Why does she think I like Marcus?

  I didn’t understand where this was coming from. I didn’t like Marcus. I liked her. End of story.

  When I went back to the main screen of the app, there were notifications from Marcus. The first message read: Marcus: Hey, can we talk?

  I sighed and scrolled down until I found the chat with Sue Ellen and went into it. I was about to send a message, then pressed the call button instead. It started ringing and she picked up.

  “Anthony?”

  “Sue Ellen, can you come over right now?”

  “What are you talking about? I’m in Massachusetts.”

  Fuck. It was ridiculous of me to forget like that. It was her sophomore year of college.

  All my friends from high school were in college. Even the ones who had taken last year out to travel in Europe and Asia had all started college in August.

  “Sorry, I was distracted by something that just happened. That’s why I wanted to see you.”

  “What happened?”

  I sighed. “It’s about Damaris,” I admitted.

  “Has she come out of her room yet?” Sue Ellen said instantly.

  “Kind of?” I said. I wasn’t sure, from the call with Damaris just now, whether she was still back in her room where I had left her.

  “Is she getting any counseling or therapy now?”

  “I don’t know,” I said.

  “Well, as I’ve always said, she should be seeing a mental health professional and she should probably be medicated as well. I think it’s very concerning that that’s not happening. Have you spoken to the boss man about this?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Sue Ellen, there’s nothing I can do. They won’t listen to anything I say.”

  “Well, it’s a very worrying situation in my opinion,” Sue Ellen said. “If she doesn’t get proper treatment, who knows what could happen? I feel like they’re playing with her life here. You know trans people are at a much higher risk for suicide than the general population.”

  I put my hands over my face. “Sue Ellen, please.” She always went on like this. “Damaris is fine. If you knew her, you would know she’ll be fine. She’s a very strong person.”

  “Depression isn’t about being strong or weak. It’s an illness that needs treatment,” Sue Ellen said, sounding even more indignant. “At least her primary care physician should be involved.”

  “I don’t know anything more than the last time we talked about this,” I said. “No-one tells me anything. And today was the first time I’ve seen her in three months. You know she was, basically, ghosting me.”

  I still felt hurt about that. And she hadn’t said anything to apologize for it today.

  “You saw Damaris today?” Sue Ellen asked.

  “Yeah,” I said. I wasn’t about to tell Sue Ellen what had happened.

  “And?” She asked.

  “Um,” I said. “She seemed fine. She looked great. As always.”

  “Uh-huh,” Sue Ellen said. “So what happened that you wanted to talk about?”

  “Um…” I trailed off, lying down on the bed and staring at the ceiling.

  “I have a paper to finish tonight, so…” she sounded impatient.

  “Tonight? Sue Ellen, it’s a Friday! Shouldn’t you be playing beer pong at a frat party or something?”

  She sighed again. “They don’t have fraternities at small liberal arts schools, Anthony.”

  I rolled my eyes. She had really become a pain the ass with the whole college thing. If I let her on the subject for more than a couple of minutes, she would start in on how there was no reason why I couldn’t remain in New York, doing drag and still attend college.

  Having Sue Ellen remind me over and over again how much I had disappointed pretty much everyone was not really going to make me feel better.

  “So Marcus and Damaris broke up,” I started in.

  “Were they a couple?” she asked. “I thought that wasn’t allowed.”

  “I don’t know what they were,” I said, exasperated. “They were sleeping together. Now they’re not. Isn’t that breaking up?”

  “I don’t know,” Sue Ellen said. “From the way you described it, they sounded more like fuckbuddies to me.”

  I shuddered. “Please,” I said. “Don’t use that disgusting word.”

  “Oh my god, Anthony,” Sue Ellen drew the words out agonizingly. “You’re twenty years old. You work in a gay club.”

  “It’s nothing to do with age,” I snapped, irritated. “It’s a matter of principle.

  “Okay, okay,” she said. “Just keep waiting for your prince or princess to ride up on a white horse. What did you want to talk about?”

  I wanted to talk about Damaris, but the chances of Sue Ellen giving me a lecture if I did were approximately one hundred and twenty percent.

  “You want to talk about Damaris, don’t you?” She said shrewdly. “Damaris is single now, and you think—”

  “I don’t think anything!” I said hastily. “Are you crazy?”

  “I’m not crazy,” Sue Ellen said slowly. “But I’m not the one who has been in love, for almost two years, with a woman who is not interested in him.”

  I gasped inaudibly. How could she be so heartless? “It’s not even eighteen months,” I said.

  “Stop nitpicking and face up to this. She’s never going to return your feelings. You need to get over this.”

  “You know,” I said angrily, “this is why I avoid talking to you about her. You’re so unsympathetic. I can’t control my own feelings, you know!”

  “Yes you can,” Sue Ellen said.

  The absurdity of her statement made me so angry, I almost hung up the phone.

  I had actually point blank stopped talking about Damaris to Sue Ellen a couple of months ago because she had reacted in almost exactly the same way.

  I didn’t know why I had expected anything different this time around.

  I was so annoyed by Sue Ellen that I got up and walked out of the bedroom into the living room.

  I sat down on the ledge of the recessed window with the city view. Lights were twinkling across the metropolis.

  “So what happened?” Sue Ellen asked without waiting for me to respond. “I’m really curious now. You’re so worked up, it must be something good.”

  I was strongly tempted to just end the conversation. Sue Ellen was being really obnoxious and I didn’t know how to broach the topic I wanted to talk about. But there was no-one else I could talk about this with.

  “Marcus said he didn’t want to hook up with Damaris any more because her body had changed,” I said, pulling my feet up and crossing my legs, still looking out at the dark blue sky and all the different colored lights out there—red, white, green, a blue one over there.

  “Oh,” Sue Ellen said, sounding slightly uncomfortable. “She’s been on HRT, right?”

  “I just think that’s—” I huffed. “I just think that’s so wrong.” I felt my jaw clench.

  “Um,” Sue Ellen said. “I… I don’t know what to say to that. They both knew she was trans, right?”


  “I don’t get it either,” I said. “And it’s—it’s just really unfair.”

  “Unfair on Damaris?” Sue Ellen asked.

  “It’s—unfair on her, yeah, but also,” I said. “I would never reject her because her body had changed.”

  “Yeah, but Anthony,” Sue Ellen said. “You’re bi.”

  “That’s—not the point,” I said, trying to find the words. “Why did she like him when he doesn’t even like women? Why didn’t she like me instead, because I—I like her as a woman. See, that’s unfair—isn’t it?”

  Sue Ellen was silent for a moment. “Does she know you’re bisexual?”

  I breathed out heavily.

  “I knew you weren’t out at that club,” she said. “Seriously, you're still letting them all think you’re gay?”

  “That’s not what this is about!” I protested. And there was no way I was telling them. Machyl would never let me live it down.

  I could just imagine Machyl’s laconic smile spreading across his face, barely touching his eyes until the last second, when a rictus grin took his face and he erupted in laughter, rocking back in his chair, kicking his feet in delight at my humiliation.

  “Okay, so if she doesn’t know you like women, then your argument makes no sense. And to be honest, you sound a little entitled. You can’t just expect her to like you just because you like her.”

  I put my hands over my face. “It’s just not fair. He liked her less after she started the hormones. But I— I liked her more.”

  “You— you did?” Sue Ellen sounded uncertain.

  “Yes,” I said miserably. I shifted uncomfortably on the marble ledge. This topic sent jitters through me when I thought about it.

  “Does she look different?” Sue Ellen asked. “She must look pretty good. I mean, she passed before. I know you’re not supposed to comment on if a trans person can pass or not,” she said, as if correcting herself.

  “Yeah,” I said quickly in agreement. I squirmed. I wanted to say it, but I felt like I shouldn’t. I bit my lip. “She had started to change before she got sick,” I admitted finally. “But when I saw her today, she looked… even better.” I swallowed hard. My face was hot.

  “Is she happy with the changes?” Sue Ellen asked.

  “I don’t know!” I said quickly. “I didn’t ask.”

  “I guess it depends on the person,” Sue Ellen said thoughtfully. “One of my friends, Priyanka, always wants feedback on how her looks are changing. But she told us that up front.”