Boy Queen

by George Lester

  The door swings open, a blast of a Pet Shop Boys song making Seth pull back so fast it’s a wonder he hasn’t gone through the wall. Kaye looks at us both curiously, then smiles.

  ‘The lips look lovely,’ he says, but he’s smiling much too broadly to be just referring to my lips. ‘You’ll have to do them yourself at some point, unless you can afford to hire the boy to be your make-up artist. What are you doing in two weeks?’ he adds.

  A man stumbles in behind him. He’s wearing a pair of tartan skinny jeans and a giant black coat. To say he looks dishevelled would be an understatement.

  ‘You’re right, darling, he is beautiful,’ the man says in a voice that is unmistakably Carrie’s.

  ‘What’s going on?’ I ask.

  ‘This one is in a tizz because she had someone cancel on her and there doesn’t seem to be a queen in all of Southford who isn’t booked and blessed,’ he says. ‘So I suggested you.’

  ‘Me?’

  ‘No, Seth,’ he says, rolling his eyes. ‘Of course you!’

  ‘But I don’t have an act yet.’

  ‘I know,’ Carrie says. ‘Unless you’re about to pull out something similar to your performance at the open mic.’

  ‘You saw that?’

  ‘Unfortunately yes.’ Carrie eyes me carefully then turns back to Kaye. ‘This doesn’t seem like a good idea. She’s too green. I’ll have one of the queens do another number. I’ll—’

  ‘She’ll be fine.’

  Carrie looks over at me again and walks towards me. I instinctively back away.

  ‘You think you can do this?’

  Kaye is nodding at me behind Carrie’s back.

  ‘Yes,’ I say. ‘I’ve been practising a lot and—’

  ‘You said you don’t have an act.’

  ‘Painting, I mean,’ I say.

  ‘You can’t just stand up there and be pretty,’ Carrie says. ‘Not at Dragcellence. People come from miles around to see a show here. This is big.’

  ‘I know,’ I say. He’s more than a little intimidating.

  ‘One shot,’ he says. ‘That’s all I’m giving you. And don’t think for one second this is something I would do lightly. I’m doing Miss Bye here a favour. A thousand girls would kill for that slot—’

  ‘But you don’t have a thousand girls waiting for it,’ Kaye interrupts. ‘You have Robin. And Robin can do it.’

  Carrie looks at Kaye and then back at me. He points a perfectly manicured finger in my face. ‘You have one opportunity to make a first impression, or you’re through,’ he says. ‘Don’t fuck this up.’

  ‘Have you finished playing the pantomime villain, dear?’ Kaye asks, mock yawning. He may be happy to rip into Carrie, but all I can do is quake. Carrie says his goodbyes and walks out, slamming the door behind him.

  ‘You must be mad,’ I say. ‘I don’t have an act, Kaye.’

  ‘Plenty of time for that.’

  ‘I don’t have a name.’

  ‘Did you or did you not hear me say two weeks?’ Kaye groans. ‘It will be bloody hard to come up with something that quickly, but not completely impossible. You’re just going to need to work hard.’ He looks me up and down. I must look panicked. ‘Look, do you want to do it or not? Because I’ve just stuck my neck out for you here – it’s my head in the smasher.’

  ‘Kaye, I—’

  ‘You can’t hide forever,’ Kaye says. ‘You’ve been through some shit, I know, but you can’t just never perform again. The only time I’ve seen you do it you were complete shit, but it was still blindingly obvious you’ve got talent.’

  And that’s precisely the reason I’m nervous. Suddenly I’m performing again and I don’t feel ready for it, not in the slightest.

  I stare at myself in the mirror, at the face half done by me, half done by Kaye. I look all right. But it’s not about look, it’s about performance, and I have nothing. I have less than nothing. I have the shattered nerves of my last performance and my failed auditions.

  ‘Robin?’ Seth says. ‘You should do it.’

  I turn to him. He’s smiling. ‘I should?’

  He nods. ‘Of course! It’s an amazing opportunity.’

  ‘Maybe . . .’ I say. ‘But—’

  ‘Yes, yes, yes, dear, you don’t have an act,’ Kaye says. ‘We will figure all that out. You’ll come here, we’ll make time, I’ll get you dressed, teach you everything you’ll need to know.’

  ‘But two weeks isn’t a long time.’

  ‘Robin, you’re a musical-theatre girl,’ Kaye says. ‘It’s performance. You’ve got a lot of it in you already – you just don’t know it yet.’ He looks me in the eye. ‘You keep saying you’re worried about next year, what you’re going to do, all that, so why not this? This is a paid slot, Robin. If the performance goes well, you could earn yourself a pretty penny next year as a queen.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Look at me!’ Kaye says. ‘I did it.’

  ‘You did?’

  ‘You think you’re the only theatre boy to turn drag queen?’ Kaye scoffs. ‘Honey, you ain’t that special. I failed auditions, I messed up bad, but I picked myself up again, created Kaye, tried again. All you can do is pick yourself up and try again. To let it all go after one failure is a disservice.’

  ‘You mean that?’

  Kaye rolls his eyes. ‘Yes! Christ, Robin, what did I tell you? Rejection is part of the deal. You either let it kill you, or let it make you stronger. That choice is up to you. Now, are you going to take this opportunity or not?’

  I turn to Seth. ‘Will you come?’

  ‘I’ll be first in line,’ he says like it’s nothing, but really it’s everything and my heart can’t cope with it.

  ‘This is all very adorable, but do I take that as a yes?’ Kaye asks.

  I turn to him. ‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘Yeah, let’s do it.’

  Shit. Suddenly I’m performing again. I’m filled with the anxiety that I’d pushed away after the failed auditions, after falling flat on my face here a couple of days ago.

  ‘Good, that saves me upsetting Carrie any more,’ Kaye says. ‘Right, no time like the present. Get up.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘On your feet, kid, we’ve got work to do, magic to make, all that shit.’ Kaye walks over to another door, pulling out a rail of costumes in every colour of the pride flag. ‘Ta-dah!’

  ‘Maybe this is happening too fast.’

  ‘Maybe you forgot we have two weeks, not two years, now get up!’

  At Kaye’s instruction, I start getting undressed, incredibly aware that Seth is sitting on the other side of the room. This isn’t exactly how I pictured this evening going.

  I take my shirt off and Kaye approaches with a black corset that he wraps round my waist. I pull it together at the front, hooking the fastenings until I can hardly breathe.

  ‘Brace yourself, kid,’ he says. And in one swift motion, he pulls on the ribbons and tightens it. The air is pushed out of me, my organs screaming as they get bullied into new positions. ‘You OK?’

  ‘Just about,’ I manage. ‘It’s a little tight.’

  ‘Beauty is pain.’

  ‘Pain is one thing, death on the other hand—’

  ‘All right, all right, a little looser,’ Kaye says. ‘Violet Chachki she ain’t.’

  ‘That’s fine with me,’ I say as Kaye lets the corset out and I feel like I can breathe again.

  ‘Put these on,’ he says, handing me a pair of beige shorts, padding in the hips and the butt.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, really.’ He starts rummaging through a rack of shoes. ‘These too – you’ve worn a heel before, right?’

  ‘Uh, New Yorkers at my dance school.’

  ‘New Yorkers?!’ Kaye spits. ‘Christ, boy, you’ve got a lot to learn. You think you’re the ish because you can twirl in a New Yorker – you wait until you try it in a stiletto heel. Size?’

  ‘Ten.’

  ‘Wow,’ Kaye says. ‘Man feet. Good for
you. Or in this case, not so much. You’ll have to borrow from Carrie.’ Kaye grabs me a pair of black stiletto heels and three pairs of tights. ‘Get these on, and, Seth, come help me pick out a dress.’

  Seth raises an eyebrow at me on the way past, hurrying to the costume rail with Kaye, rummaging through while I pull the shorts up, then all the tights and slip the heels on to my feet. It’s a struggle to balance at first. He’s right when he says the New Yorkers are easier to walk in. Going from a three-inch heel to what has to be a six is no mean feat. But I walk a little, hearing snatches of conversation from Seth and Kaye as I wander, remembering to pitch forward, using my arms to keep my balance as I did in Emily’s class.

  I catch sight of myself in the full-length mirror hanging on the back of the door. I’m standing taller. Even I can see it. After hiding myself for so long, shrinking my shoulders, trying not to be too visible when out in public, here I am standing tall because in a six-inch heel, you don’t really have a choice.

  ‘Oh, darling, you’re going to love this,’ Kaye calls. ‘What are you doing?’

  I turn round to see Kaye holding a blue dress, the top of it a nude illusion covered in so many stones it’s practically glittering in front of me.

  ‘I was just looking.’

  ‘Wait until you see the finished product,’ he says, beckoning me over. ‘Seth, put some music on.’

  ‘Absolutely,’ he says. ‘Any requests?’

  ‘Robin?’ Kaye asks.

  ‘Anything, I don’t mind.’

  ‘Darling, if you could try to be a little more assertive?’

  I sigh. ‘Something dancey,’ I say. ‘Pop, the queerer the better.’

  ‘That’s a good girl,’ Kaye says. ‘Now, step into this.’

  I do as I’m told, stepping into the dress, putting my arms in, letting Kaye do up the zip behind me. Katy Perry starts to play from Seth’s phone.

  ‘Now, to complete this little look,’ Kaye says. ‘She looks like a blonde, doesn’t she, Seth?’

  Seth looks over, a wide grin on his face. ‘I think so, yeah.’

  ‘There’s a good boy.’ Kaye heads over to his dressing table and takes a huge, swept up piece of blonde hair with a dark root off a mannequin head. He hands me a wig cap and I obediently put it on, bending down so he can put the wig on my head. It’s heavy, any false movement threatening to send me off balance.

  I draw myself up to my full height, running my hands over the new body Kaye has put me in, the new waist he has cinched, the new hips he’s enhanced, the stones sparkling in the limited light with every slight movement.

  ‘My darling daughter,’ Kaye says. ‘It’s not perfect, but it’s a start. Prance a little, enjoy the song, enjoy the moment, dance around, feel yourself.’

  I want to, but I can feel Kaye’s eyes on me, and Seth’s eyes, and I start to wonder if I’m making a fool of myself.

  ‘Honey, no,’ Kaye says. ‘Get out of your head for a second. Find her. Find where she is in you. Let all of this go.’

  ‘I can’t,’ I say. ‘I . . . I don’t know how to—’

  ‘Don’t worry about us; don’t worry about him,’ Kaye says, waving a hand in Seth’s direction. ‘Take a breath, close your eyes if it helps and just let the music take you.’

  But I can’t, and I can feel myself shutting down. I don’t want to do this any more, I just—

  The song changes and I recognize the song before the words even start. Lady Gaga. ‘Just Dance.’ I’ve never fallen so fast for someone as I did for Lady Gaga and this song, and now it’s running through my body just like it did when I first heard it.

  ‘Come on,’ Seth says. ‘Dance with me.’

  ‘Seth, I can’t. I—’

  ‘No!’ Kaye shouts. ‘No more can’ts, Robin! Just dance.’

  ‘Very funny!’ I shout back.

  ‘Come on,’ Seth says, taking my hands. ‘Close your eyes if it helps.’

  So I do, and he’s holding my hands and we’re dancing, just j-j-just dancing. And maybe it is gonna be OK.

  I open my eyes and Seth is smiling at me, grinning so broadly it’s like his face is going to split in two.

  ‘Yes! Yes! That’s what I’m talking about!’ Kaye calls, but it sort of vanishes because here’s Seth and here I am and we’re just dancing like there’s nothing else happening in the world. The music is in my veins and I can’t stop myself from singing along as I go, and I’m performing, in a way, and it’s all for him, and a little bit for Kaye, I guess, but my eyes are fixed on Seth.

  Then I stumble over my own feet, tripping and almost falling forward. Seth lets go of my hands and suddenly has his arms wrapped round my newly cinched waist. I look down at him, because I’m taller than him now and he’s grinning, a little out of breath, his eyes twinkly as ever.

  ‘You OK?’ he whispers.

  ‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Pleasure.’

  The song finishes, fading seamlessly into Britney Spears, and I don’t know what playlist this is, but Seth somehow has my music taste down. And we’re still dancing. Another few songs go by – a Judy Garland classic, Ariana Grande, Troye Sivan – each song creating a different mood, a different feeling. I’ve lost track of how many songs we’ve gone through, how long Seth and I have been dancing, when Kaye turns the volume down.

  ‘Did you feel it?’ he asks. He taps my chest. ‘Did you feel it here? Because that’s what this is. You of all people should know what that feeling is, that rush you get from performing.’

  ‘It’s hardly—’

  ‘No,’ Kaye says. ‘That’s what that was. There wasn’t an audience of thousands, there wasn’t a standing ovation or a fucking red curtain, but that was a performance. You’re discovering who she is, what she does.’

  ‘But what if I’m not ready in time?’

  ‘You’ll be ready,’ Kaye says. ‘Readiness is a state of mind as much as anything else and I’ll do everything in my power to get you there. I promise. Just keep coming here. We’ll arrange it. Every day. We’ll make it work.’

  ‘Thanks, Kaye.’

  He looks away from me.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Do you hear that?’ he asks.

  ‘What?’

  ‘That infernal buzzing,’ he says. ‘I knew I could hear something when the music was on but I thought it was my age. Thank God, I thought I was losing my marbles. Can one of you shut it off?’

  I look at Seth. He goes and checks his phone then shrugs.

  I walk over to the sofa where I’ve left my bag. My phone has fallen out. It’s vibrated itself on to the sofa cushions and I see that it has gone ten thirty and my phone is flooded with messages and missed calls.

  ‘Oh shit,’ I say.

  ‘What?’

  ‘My mum.’

  ‘Your mum?’ Seth sounds concerned.

  ‘Your mum?!’ Kaye does not.

  I scroll through my phone. Message after message asking if I’m still at dancing, if I’m on my way home yet, to message her when I get this, and then calls. So many calls. Holy shit.

  ‘I’ve missed a lot of calls. I think she’s home.’

  ‘Didn’t she know you were here?’

  I shake my head, feeling suddenly sheepish in front of Seth, in front of Kaye.

  I step out on to the stairs and dial Mum’s number. She picks up immediately. I can hear she’s in a state; her breath is short. She is panicking, or at least has been.

  ‘Robin?’

  ‘Hi Mum,’ I say. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘What’s up?’ she shrieks. ‘What’s up? Robin, I’ve been calling you for the last half an hour. I got home at half nine expecting you to be here, and when you weren’t I called you and you didn’t answer, so I called Miss Emily at the dance school and she said you hadn’t been there all week so what’s up at the moment is that I thought my son was dead.’

  ‘Mum, I’m sorry I—’

  ‘Come home,’ she interrupts. ‘Come home, now.’

  I
go back into the dressing room to see Kaye stood there with a packet of make-up wipes. He nudges my chin so I look up. I must look upset because he’s smiling at me, clearly trying to make me feel better.

  ‘Get that stuff off your face and go home,’ he says. He hands me a piece of paper with a number on it. ‘If you can, come back before Dragcellence tomorrow and we’ll do more of this. Otherwise, let me know when you can.’ It feels ominous, like he knows how much trouble I’m in before I do. ‘Just message me, OK?’

  I nod and Kaye kisses me on the cheek.

  ‘Is she mad?’ Seth asks.

  I nod. ‘Furious.’ My voice is shaking. I’ve been caught out and I have no idea what I’m going home to.

  ‘Get your make-up off,’ Seth says. ‘I’ll drive you back.’

  ‘But my bike—’

  ‘We’ll come back for it, Robin,’ he says. ‘If your mum is worried, we just need to get you home, yeah?’

  I nod and Kaye undoes the dress and helps me out of the corset. I take a seat and start to take off the make-up, wiping off what is probably the best face I’ve ever had, but for the briefest moment before I swipe the make-up wipe across my face I see her. For the first time since I started doing this, I see my drag-self looking back at me. I have a horrible feeling it will be a long time before I get to see her again.

  TWENTY-ONE

  When Seth pulls up outside my house, I realize I haven’t spoken all the way home, not a single freaking word. I thank him and get out of the car.

  ‘Do you want me to wait?’ he asks.

  ‘It’s probably best that you don’t,’ I say. ‘I don’t want my mum to yell at you too. That would be way too embarrassing.’

  ‘I’ll pick you up in the morning,’ he says. It’s not a question.

  ‘Thank you.’

  Seth drives away and I look up at the house. All the lights are on and I can see Mum’s outline in the window. She must have seen me because she disappears into the house. I’m in trouble.

  As I walk the path to the front door, I try to think of an excuse that would be valid. She knows I’ve not been dancing. She’s probably been in touch with Natalie and I have no idea what she will have told her. The silence in the house is utterly terrifying. The air is thick with tension that I practically have to swim through just to make it to the kitchen where Mum is waiting, leaning on the countertop.