But I feel like I blink and it’s over, the two of us standing there in the alleyway, our foreheads touching like we’re characters in a film. He’s smiling. I’m smiling. My face hurts from smiling. Smile, smile, smile.
‘I need to go inside,’ I say, breaking the magic, still struggling to believe that it actually just happened.
‘I know,’ he says, taking a breath. ‘I’ll see you after. Give them hell.’
I nod. He kisses me one last time, sweet and fleeting, and it gives me the energy I need to step back inside and go upstairs to get ready for the show.
Kaye is halfway painted now, her pink and blue eyeshadow popping like you wouldn’t believe.
‘What are you so happy about?’ she asks.
‘I’m ready,’ I say.
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ Kaye says. ‘Now for goodness’ sake, paint yourself so we can get you corseted and on to that stage. You have two hours – is that enough?’
‘Yes,’ I say, faking confidence I don’t really feel, trying to find the old me or maybe a new me, I don’t know.
I glue down my brows, painting the bottom half of my face while I wait for them to dry, just like Kaye taught me. She’s pretending she isn’t watching me while she gets dressed, but I can see her looking over every now and again, seeing how I’m doing, making sure I’m not completely fucking it up. Her neck is on the line here and she isn’t about to let me forget it.
Kaye has already set out a wig for me to borrow, a shoulder-length wavy number that moves from a blonde root down to blue ends. So, after applying Trixie Mattel levels of eyeliner, I decide to go with an orange and blue eye to try to compliment it. It’s all working. I push past the point where it doesn’t look right, where the face isn’t quite complete, and start adding finishing touches, blush, highlight. Kaye helps me with my eyelashes because eyelashes are still really hard and, by the time I’m putting a little bit of gloss over my lips, I look like a completely different person.
‘Now that is a face I can put on a stage,’ Carrie says, appearing next to me in the mirror. She’s ready to go, her wig so high that now she’s in heels she’s dusting the ceiling with it. ‘You look gorgeous, hun. But who is she?’
‘Huh?’
‘What’s her name?’ Carrie says. ‘I can’t introduce you without a name.’
‘I don’t know yet,’ I say, staring at myself in the mirror. It won’t be complete until I put the wig on, but I look . . . pretty. A little graphic, a little bit inspired by Kaye, a little by the tutorials I’ve watched to death at home. But I don’t know who she is. What is her name?
‘Let’s ask Mum, shall we?’ Carrie says, straightening up. ‘Oh, Kaye, my dear,’ she coos. ‘Your daughter is here and, though you’ve been through the pains of labour and shat all over the table, you’ve forgotten to name your child.’
‘Maybe I don’t need a name.’
‘Oh fuck off, darling, everyone needs a name!’ Carrie barks.
‘Not forgotten dear,’ Kaye says, now appearing in the mirror. ‘My doubting little diva, queen of umming and ahhing over absolutely bloody everything. My darlings of Dragcellence, may I introduce to you, Miss Mae Bee.’
I look at my face in the mirror and see that it fits. She’s right there, staring me in the face, her eyeshadow neon and popping like there’s no tomorrow, lips so bravely overdrawn I look like I’ve had an All Stars level of fillers. Mae Bee. She’s been there the whole time, just waiting for me to find her, to wake her up.
‘How does it feel, darling?’ Carrie says.
I smile and nod. ‘Perfect.’
‘Good,’ she says. ‘Now, don’t forget what I told you. This is some once-in-a-lifetime bullshit right here, OK?’
‘OK.’
‘Don’t be about to fuck this up.’
‘I’m not.’
She eyes me carefully. ‘Who are you and what have you done with the boy who walked in here in pieces two hours ago?’
I coquettishly bat my eyes. ‘There was a boy here? I don’t know what you’re talking about . . . sir.’ I wink. Carrie raises an eyebrow.
‘You might be ready for this,’ she says. ‘What’s the number?’
I tell her the song and she heads downstairs to get the crowd warmed up. There is a deafening cheer as she walks into the bar. Everybody loves Carrie.
Kaye helps me get my wig on, and Pristine helps me into the corset, and before I know it, I’m fully tucked with three thick pairs of tights on for good measure and in a pair of black knee-high boots with a six-inch heel, wearing a leotard and skirt.
Kaye takes my phone off the dressing table. ‘Pose, darling,’ she says. ‘It’s almost time for your gaybut’ – she pronounces it to rhyme with “debut” – let’s get some pictures to remember it by, huh?’
I do as I’m asked, posing, pouting, serving as best I can. She’s about to put my phone down when I stop her.
‘What?’ she says.
‘I need pictures with you,’ I say, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world because, to me, it is. ‘You’re my drag mother, right? This is your fault.’
‘My fault?’ she says, laughing, but there are tears in her eyes. And as she looks me up and down, taking in the work that both of us have put into this look, I can see that she’s proud of what she’s done. ‘Well, when you put it like that, you’d better not go down there and fuck it up.’
‘Careful,’ Pristine says. ‘That’s almost a RuPaul-ism.’
‘Shut up and take the picture,’ she says. It’s when I hear the applause downstairs that I realize Carrie has finished her first number and that I am next.
We all go down the stairs together, Pristine bringing my phone, determined to document this seminal moment in my own gay history. And I sort of love her for it. She seems to be as excited as I am nervous.
The bar is completely packed, just like it has been the other times I’ve been at Dragcellence. Everyone is focused on the stage where Carrie is working the microphone, but my ears are ringing and I can’t hear her, the nerves taking over my entire body so my knees are actually shaking.
‘You’ve got this sweetie,’ Kaye whispers behind me, and I suddenly wake up to the noise in the room, to Carrie looking across to me, ready for the signal for me to tell them whether or not I’m ready. I give a thumbs-up and she turns back to her adoring crowd.
‘My darlings, for the first time tonight at Dragcellence, I would like to present a brand-new queen, the daughter of our very own Essex Queen, Kaye Bye.’ There is a wild cheer from the audience. ‘My darlings, please give a warm welcome for her Dragcellence and drag gaybut, Call Her Mae Bee!’
All eyes in the room turn to where Carrie has gestured, to where I am standing at the far corner of the room. A spotlight finds me and the music starts to play, the striking up of a band, the familiar beginning of ‘Don’t Rain On My Parade’, and as icon, legend, queen, sensation Barbra Streisand begins to sing I start my walk to the stage, trying to recreate what I rehearsed.
I lock eyes with people on the way, their eyes wide, most of them smiling, some of them cheering, all of them parting like the Red Sea to give me a clear path. When I make it, the lights are bright but not so bright I can’t make out a few of the people in the audience.
Seth is standing near the back, a drink in his hand, a smile on his face so broad it makes me want to work harder. I direct some of the song to him and he cheers. I spin and find someone else in the audience to focus on and almost stop dead when I see her.
Mum.
She’s sitting with Natalie, Greg and Priya, each of them absolutely beaming. Mum has tears in her eyes, Natalie is smiling. They must know that it’s me. Greg must have told Natalie that I was going to be here and . . .
I don’t have time to think it through. I have to keep going, keep performing, keep mashing my mouth around to this glorious song.
There’s the build-up.
I’m raising my arms as Barbra is belting ‘Here I am’.
I t
ear off my skirt and throw it to Natalie, the crowd goes nuts, there is screaming, whooping, cheering, and I am lip-syncing and spinning around that stage like it’s mine because in this moment it is. And before I know it the song is over and I am curtseying, Natalie handing me back my torn-off skirt as I totter from the stage and back over to Kaye and Pristine to the sounds of applause, to people chanting my name and if I could just live in one moment forever, it would be this one.
TWENTY-NINE
The rest of the night continues, Kaye and Pristine performing twice each, Carrie doing a number every now and again, the Duchess slaying the house down with some J. K. Rowling tweets mixed with ‘Sorry Not Sorry’ from SIX, and before I know it the night is over and people are leaving Entity or sticking around because, for them, the night is only just beginning. And I am hiding backstage, trying to work up the courage to go out and face my mum, face Natalie, face the people I’ve disappointed.
‘Your public awaits,’ Kaye says. ‘Are you all right?’
I shake my head. ‘There’s a lot of people out there that don’t like me too much right now,’ I say. ‘I don’t know if—’
‘Maybe they don’t like Robin,’ Kaye says. ‘But Mae Bee? Mae Bee is a star. Let them meet her. Come on.’
I take Kaye’s hand and she leads me back out to the bar. Through the crowd, I see Mum. She’s standing up, Greg, Priya and Natalie around her, and I know she is looking for me. She is doing that weird meerkat thing that mothers do when they’re trying to keep an eye on their kids in the playground or something. But it doesn’t take her long to spot me. I’m six foot six and in a blonde wig with blue ends, for crying out loud. You can’t miss me. She starts over to me, squeezing through the crowds to reach me.
I try to second guess everything she’s going to say, ready for some kind of onslaught, mad at me for running out of the house to do this when she told me not to, mad at me for doing it in the first place. I’m about to come out to my mum for the second time in my life and my heart will not stop pounding.
I’m taller than her anyway, but it’s only when she gets close to me that I realize just how tall I am in these heels. I’m an absolute giant. She looks like a Borrower.
‘I don’t even know where to start,’ she says, unable to keep the smile off her face.
I wince.
‘What?’ she says.
‘Are you . . . upset?’ I say.
‘Yes,’ she says. ‘Upset that you ran out of the house tonight like that. And that you only really told me half the story. Look at you, Robin.’
‘Too effervescent?’ I say.
‘No, Robin, not at all,’ she says. ‘Look at you – you’re the brightest thing in the whole damn room.’
‘Thanks.’ I’m trying not to get choked up. I don’t know how waterproof this eye make-up is.
‘I’m just surprised, of course I’m surprised. Happy for you. A little scared.’
‘I knew you’d worry,’ I say, averting my eyes, not wanting to look at her in case I start to cry. ‘After what you said before I went out for my birthday I was worried. I didn’t want you to freak out and take it away before I really had a chance to do this. But I’m safe here, Mum. Really.’
‘Robin, I just . . . I don’t want—’
‘Wait.’ I look around and see Kaye standing at the bar, flirting with Jared. ‘Kaye, can I borrow you for a second?’
‘My darling daughter, I’m a little busy right now.’
‘It’ll only take a second,’ I say. ‘I actually want to introduce you to somebody.’
I walk her over to my mum, who looks a little dumbstruck.
‘Kaye, this is my mum; Mum, this is my drag mother, Kaye Bye.’
‘Drag mother?’ she says.
Kaye kisses Mum on both cheeks. ‘It’s such a pleasure to meet you,’ she says. ‘I just love your boy. He’s . . .’ She looks over at me and smiles. ‘He’s one of the good ones, a beautiful soul.’
‘Thank you,’ she says, looking from me to Kaye and back again. She’s confused. ‘So, you’re his drag mother? What is . . . what does that mean?’
‘I have been Mae Bee’s guide, mentor and person in charge of making sure she doesn’t look busted and sully the good name of Dragcellence,’ she says. Mum still looks a little lost, which makes Kaye smile. ‘I’m here to look out for her, keep her safe.’
Mum smiles and I can see that there are tears welling in her eyes. ‘Well, thank you,’ she says. ‘Thank you for looking out for my boy when I’m not there.’
‘It is honestly my pleasure.’ Kaye turns to me. ‘Are you done playing happy families, dear?’
‘You can go,’ I say. She totters back to the bar.
‘She’s beautiful,’ Mum says. ‘You picked a good mum.’
‘She’s not a patch on you,’ I say.
Mum takes a breath and pulls me into a hug, her head barely reaching my chest. I try not to laugh. ‘If you want to do drag, do drag. It’s theatre, it’s performance, it’s everything you want and, if it earns you a bit of money, it’s better than doing something that you hate. You spend a lot of time at work – you might as well do something fun.’
‘So you’re OK?’
‘Not a hundred per cent,’ she says. ‘But that’s something we can talk about later.’
‘I’m really glad you came,’ I say.
‘Of course I came,’ she says. ‘You know, considering we’ve known each other for eighteen years, you’re doing a terrible job of knowing me. I know I said I wouldn’t, but you were going to be here and . . . I wanted to see. I always want to see you perform, Robin. Whether it’s you singing at a school event or in a school play, or doing this in a bar, it’s me getting to see you in your absolute element and nothing makes me prouder than that. I’m proud of you, Robin Cooper . . . Mae Bee . . . whatever I’m supposed to call you. But please know,’ she adds, ‘if you ever lie to me again, I will knock you off those heels, do you hear me?’
I laugh. ‘Loud and clear,’ I say. ‘Sorry, Mum.’
She blinks. ‘What for?’
‘For being shit,’ I say, but it feels too general. ‘You don’t deserve that. I should have said something. We don’t do secrets.’
She waves a hand at me. ‘Look, most teenagers have a rebellious, parent-hating phase,’ she says. ‘You just happened to have yours a bit late. But I certainly would appreciate it if it could be done with now. I’d like my son back, if that’s OK.’
‘Yeah, sure,’ I say.
‘Promise?’ She sticks out her hand, her pinky extended.
Pinky swear. ‘Do you want me to come home with you?’ I ask.
‘Christ, no, not right now – you have your adoring public to attend to,’ she says. ‘But we’ll order in dinner tomorrow maybe, hang out, watch a terrible film, OK?’ She kisses me on the cheek. ‘I’ll see you when you get home.’
‘You’re not leaving are you?’
‘Robin Cooper, I am not going to stay here and cramp your style,’ she says. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.’
‘I love you too.’
Mum heads for the door and is quickly replaced by Natalie, Greg and Priya. Priya is holding Greg’s hand. The tiniest detail, but I clock it and can’t help but smile. Natalie looks uncomfortable. It’s the first time I’ve seen her look anything other than joyful while she’s been at Entity and I know it’s my fault.
‘I’m really sorry,’ I say. ‘I know it’s not enough, but I am. I’ve been an awful friend.’
‘Yes, you have,’ she says. ‘I’ve not been too good myself, but, honey . . .’
I chuckle. ‘I know.’
Natalie throws herself at me and wraps me up in a hug. I hug her back, tentatively at first but eventually giving in to the full squeeze. Greg stands near us, looking a little nervous.
‘I’m sorry,’ I say into Nat’s hair. ‘I’m so, so sorry.’
‘Good,’ she says.
‘No, Natalie, I fucked up, hugely,’ I say as she pulls away. ‘Loo
k, no more secrets, OK? I just want my best friends back.’
‘Connor is a prick, good riddance to bad rubbish,’ Natalie says. ‘But Seth . . .’
‘Seth . . .’
‘He might not be so bad,’ she says. ‘I’ll reserve judgement until I get to know him better.’
‘OK,’ I say. ‘That’s wise.’
‘I am very wise.’ She shrugs. ‘OK, we can fix our friendship starting tomorrow, but can we talk about Mae Bee now?’
‘You were amazing,’ Greg blurts. ‘I mean, I don’t know a lot about drag, but what you did was cool.’
‘Honestly, babes, gagged,’ Priya says.
‘It was insane,’ Natalie says. ‘I can’t believe that was the first time you’d done it with an audience. You had no reason to be nervous at all.’
‘Adrenalin is a hell of a drug,’ I say.
‘If you don’t start wearing your heels at dancing, I’m going to be very disappointed,’ Priya says. ‘You’re coming back, right?’
‘If Mum lets me.’
‘Good.’
‘You were fantastic,’ Nat says. ‘Seriously. And, look, maybe Ru is right. Drag, bringing families together.’
‘VOM!’ Greg says. Nat hits him on the arm.
‘I really am sorry, Nat, I—’
‘Let’s not do this now,’ she says, holding up a hand. ‘You can start making it up to me tomorrow. Until then you can tell me what all the queens are like and what’s happening with you and Seth.’
‘Oh,’ I say, looking over to see Seth hovering by the door. ‘If we’re not doing secrets any more, Seth and I are close now. Like. Really close.’
‘How close?’
‘Erm. We kissed.’
‘ROBIN!’ Priya shrieks. She hits me on the arm. ‘You and Seth what?’
‘We kissed.’
‘Wow,’ Greg says.
‘Huge wow!’ Priya says. ‘I need details, full and frank details because—’
‘Hey, Seth,’ Greg says loudly.
Seth strides over, that trademark smile on his face.
Boy Queen Page 24
