With This Heart

by R.S. Grey

“ Looks like we have a virgin over here,” Queen Bee sang, shoving another shot into my hand that had appeared out of nowhere. I swallowed it without hesitation and felt the effect as the two shots hit my stomach. Everyone swarmed Queen Bee as if she was literally the queen bee. She air kissed the club goers and offered little greetings that they lapped up like loyal fans. I couldn’t help but wonder how popular she was. Was this really her club?

  “ Now, Ruby Red, it’s time to doll you up. You can’t go on stage dressed like that.” I looked down at my shorts and tank top.

  “ This is all that I have,” I admitted, confused about what she planned on doing with me. She batted her eyelashes down to me and that’s when I realized they had tiny gemstones at the end of each lash. She looked like someone straight out of the Capitol in the Hunger Games… only more insanely dolled up.

  “ I have everything you need!” she cheered, tugging my hand. “Follow me!”

  She led me away from the bar and through the crowd toward a backstage area. There was a bouncer standing guard and a huge sign that read: “VIP”. A small part of me felt like I should bolt and cut my losses, but a bigger part of me was curious about what Queen Bee planned to do with me. What could she possibly want me to judge? A drag queen contest?

  “ We don’t have long, but I’ll do your hair and makeup really quick and then we’ll pick out something for you to wear,” she declared as she pushed open a bright red, glossy door. The inside of her dressing room looked like what you would expect to find at the end of Candy Land. It was like a rainbow had exploded on every item in the room. Bright striped, neon walls housed racks of sparkly clothing.

  “ Are you my Fairy God mother?” I asked, feeling the warmth of those two shots begin to swirl in my veins. I wasn’t drunk, but the sadness eroding my stomach all day was finally taking a backseat to a newer sensation. All thanks to Queen Bee, I could breathe without feeling like a hand was clamping down on my lungs.

  Queen Bee threw her head back and laughed, carefree and wildly. “Let’s say just for tonight that I am.” She pushed me down into the chair and put her hands on my shoulders. I caught her reflection in the mirror; her bright brown eyes met mine. Her expression held a look of deep understanding, and before I realized the words that were forming, I started telling her about Caroline.

  “ My friend died last night. She was sick for a long time and she never got to live her life. I’m trying to live for the both of us.” I blurted it out, never taking my eyes off her. Her grip on my shoulders tightened and her mouth flattened into a thin line. It was a brief moment of profound sorrow, but then she nodded and tucked those feelings away behind her beautiful mask.

  “ Then baby, living is what you’re going to do!” She whirled me around and immediately started working on my hair. She teased it, pulled it up high, and twisted it impossibly tight. All the while I squeezed my eyes closed, trying to handle the pain. She gave me another shot when she realized how tense I was. “Beauty is pain!” she laughed before stepping back to secure my hair with more hair spray than I even realized could fit inside of a bottle. I coughed and hacked, trying desperately to breathe through the thick, chemically air.

  “ Ten minutes until show-time, Sugar Britches!” she sang. I laughed uncontrollably, not even realizing what was so funny. Maybe I shouldn’t have had three shots , I thought as she layered on purple eye shadow. I knew I was going to look like a clown. Who wears purple eye shadow without looking like a clown? She swiped on mascara and smeared my lips in bright red lipstick. My face felt tight from all the tugging and pulling.

  “ Are you ready, Ruby Red?” she asked once she leaned back to eye her work. Her smile was genuine and proud, like I was her baby girl all grown up. Maybe she really was my Fairy God Mother. When she turned that black chair around, my mouth hung open. I didn’t look like a clown. I mean I looked crazy, like a Texas Pageant Queen, but somehow I still looked beautiful. The eye shadow made my sage green eyes pop and the mascara made me look older and sultry.

  “ This should fit, although it’ll be a little loose,” she said as she disappeared behind racks of clothing and then came back with a tight red dress. It was a cotton-blend material, and when I slipped it over my head, it clung to my skin like a wetsuit. It fell mid-way down my thighs and the spaghetti-straps criss-crossed between my shoulder blades.

  “ Now! In true Fairy God Mother Fashion, I have a single pair of gemstone encrusted pumps. They’re size eight and they used to belong to Professor Luscious, but she moved to San Francisco and left them here.” I smiled at the drag name as she handed me the shoes. They were gorgeous and definitely a modern take on the glass slipper. Glittery gemstones, which looked like fake diamonds, coated the entire surface.

  There was only one problem. “I’m a size seven, they’ll slip off,” I lamented.

  Queen Bee arched her impeccable brow at me and shook her head. “Fake it till you make it, that’s how we work in this business.”

  I thought she was referring to slipping some stuffing into my shoes so they would fit, but the next thing I knew she was slipping falsies down the front of my dress so that my size-A boobs now looked like a size-C at least.

  “ You look like a mini-me! Now let’s go!” She tugged my hand and the room spun in a hazy mix of glitter and color. I had to hold her hand with both of mine so that I wouldn’t stumble in the stiletto heels.

  The second we walked out of the VIP dressing room, cat calls sounded throughout the bar. Every single person stopped their conversations and held their drinks up in a wild salute to Queen Bee and me.

  She kept tugging me behind her until we were on stage. A short guy dressed as an angel, complete with giant white feathered wings, handed a microphone to Queen Bee and then bowed in humble servitude. Any cheers that had followed us onto the stage completely died out as Queen Bee started to speak.

  “ Good evening!” she whispered seductively into the mic. “As you all know, every Tuesday at the Trancing Pranny we hold a little contest…” The crowd erupted in response. Whatever contest I was about to judge was clearly loved by everyone. “We have very well-endowed contestants tonight, but before we begin, I’d like to introduce you all to my guest judge for the evening.” The spotlight swooped over to me in response. It was so bright that I had to hold my hand up to shield my eyes.

  “ Her name is Ruby Red and she’s my little Cinderella, so let’s all give her a big welcome!” The crowd whooped and hollered. For one moment I wavered on a precipice. I could sober up and remember the tragedy of the day. I could leave immediately and go home to my empty apartment and cry for Caroline in peace. Or I could let the tequila, the bright lights, the make-up, and the crowd, take its effect and pull me away from the demons crouching in wait just outside of the club. Luckily for me, the decision wasn’t mine to make.

  A second later, a wild club beat started bouncing from the speakers and right on cue, a stream of deliciously sexy men danced out from behind backstage.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Each of the guys was better looking than the next. They were all different types. Tall, short, tan, and muscled. None of the men were dressed in drag; they had on normal, albeit very stylish, club attire. So what exactly was I going to be judging?

  “ Ladies, Queens, Sisters…” Queen Bee began, “We have ten of the SEXIEST gay men Dallas has to offer here on stage for you.” She paused for a rowdy round of applause. “They’ll each have three minutes to dance their asses off and show us their best moves!” She stepped closer to me and wrapped her hand around my shoulders. “Our little Ruby Red will be picking the winner, so they’ll have to do everything in their power to impress her!” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively, and I peered back to see a few of the men shoot me silly winks or blow kisses in my direction. I blushed a dark shade of crimson that I prayed the spotlight didn’t amplify.

  The same Angel that had given Queen Bee the microphone earlier scurried o
nto the stage to place a pink barstool behind me. I didn’t miss the shy smile he shot one of the men standing in line behind me. I turned to see a sexy blonde guy blow him a kiss.

  Suddenly, Queen Bee pushed me back toward the barstool and I did my best to climb onto it without revealing my underwear to the entire crowd.

  “ DJ! Hit it. It’s time for contestant number one to strut his stuff!” Queen Bee clapped her hands and moved toward the edge of the stage. The blonde guy who’d grinned at the Angel started clapping his hands above his head. He strolled forward with a confident prance, throwing his arms up to get the crowd going even more…and then the real fun started.

  He reached for the hem of his shirt and started tugging it up. Screams erupted from the crowd and I cupped a hand over my mouth as he pulled the shirt completely off. The next thing to go was the button on his jeans. He demurely popped it open and then shimmied his hips around in a circle before locking his eyes onto me. Oh crap . His finger pointed directly at me and his tongue licked his lips slowly.

  I pressed back against the barstool and reached down to grip the seat with both hands. Was he going to touch me? Were they allowed to touch me? He strolled toward me until he was a few inches away from my chair and then dipped all the way to the ground and back up again, worshiping me like I was some goddess. I couldn’t contain my giggles or my blushing cheeks. Tequila will do that to you.

  Sober-me would have been crawling out of my skin.

  The music hit a new crescendo and he dropped his hips and swayed them back and forth seductively, then turned away from me and backed his ass up until it was almost touching my knees. I let out a nervous laugh as the crowd went wild. I had no clue what they expected me to do. His legs were spread eagle and his ass was popping up and down faster than I’d ever seen someone move.

  So, I did what any logical girl would do. I reached out and spanked him, just once. I had no clue what came over me. It felt like an out-of-body experience.

  “ There’s our little Ruby Red!” Queen Bee sang into the microphone, and I clasped a hand over my mouth in response.

  Contestant number one finished his act and then stepped back in line, not even bothering to retrieve his scraps of discarded clothing. The next contestants passed in a blur of body parts and sexy dance moves. I saw flashes of male body parts I’d never seen before.

  My favorite contestant, however, was the last one to go up. He was younger than the rest of them and had brown hair that reminded me of Beck’s. The crowd didn’t cheer for him in the beginning, and I instantly wanted to help him out.

  I whistled and clapped my hands, and he shot me an appreciative smile. The contestant started clapping along with the beat, getting the entire crowd to join in with him. When he was satisfied that everyone was paying attention to him, he bolted off the stage and made his way through the crowd, crashing through people along his way. When he reached the bar, he hopped up on top and started working his magic. He was the best dancer out of all of them; he must have been classically trained because the kicks and spins he pulled out on that thin wood surface were too good to be accidents. I had to prop myself up onto my barstool to see over the crowd and I smiled when I saw him pick up someone’s drink and toss it back.

  I lost sight of him for a few seconds and then his brown hair popped back out through the crowd. He was bee lining right for me with something held in his outstretched hand.

  When he stopped in front of me, I looked down to see him holding the stem of a glistening cherry.

  “ A cherry for you, Ruby Red,” he winked seductively, and then held it up so that I only had one option: to bite it off the stem while he held it out to me. I chanced a glance past him toward Queen Bee. Her grin was wide and approving. I leaned forward, meeting the contestant’s light brown eyes, and bit off the end of the cherry. The sweet juices coated my tongue and for a brief moment I pretended that the brunette contestant standing in front of me was Beck. The tequila made their similarities pop, so I leaned forward and kissed him, smack dab on the lips. His mouth tasted like strawberry Chap Stick and I pulled away giggling.

  “ I’ve never kissed a gay man,” I admitted, loud enough for Queen Bee’s microphone to pick up the faint echo. My voice projected throughout the club’s speakers and everyone paused for a moment before going wild.

  I looked over toward the final contestant and threw a hand over my mouth. He looked nothing like Beck. I was a tipsy fool and I didn’t care one way or the other.

  I dubbed contestant number ten the winner. There were balloons, confetti, and a crazy light show. My head was spinning by the time I slid off the stage with Queen Bee.

  “ Thanks for letting me go up there with you,” I said, walking out from behind the partition after I’d changed back into my normal clothes. My hair was still twirled in pretty waves and my make-up seemed thick enough to last a few years.

  Queen Bee looked up at me from her director’s chair. “It was an honor. You’re welcome back any time. The crowd loved you.” She smiled at me, and we stood, taking each other in for a moment.

  On stage, her drag queen get-up fit in so well, but now that we were back in the dressing room, I could see the glitter starting to sweat down her cheeks and one of her false eyelashes was starting to peel off at the edge.

  “ Could I know your real name?” I asked boldly. I had no clue how the politics of this world worked. Was I supposed to understand that when we were in this club and when he was dressed up as a she, she was known as Queen Bee?

  She looked at me for another second, tapping her manicured finger on her crossed knee. “Danny.”

  I nodded in appreciation. It felt like he was letting me in on a little secret by revealing that to me. “My friend’s name was Caroline. I missed her death because I was in the middle of a road trip.”

  I could already feel the tears fighting to fall.

  Danny nodded twice slowly, letting my confession sink in. “Do you think she was upset about that?”

  I thought about his question and then smiled at the memory of Caroline threatening to call in a bomb threat about me. “No. To be honest, I don’t think she was upset. I just wish I could’ve seen her one last time.”

  The closure of a final goodbye seemed like it’d been ripped from my hands by fate.

  “ Are you going to finish your road trip?” Danny asked, starting to unpin his pink wig.

  Finish the road trip? I hadn’t even had time to consider it. Yes, we’d had fun, and the main reason for taking the journey hadn’t been even been accomplished. But I pushed the thoughts away. I couldn’t think of anything beyond dealing with Caroline’s death.

  “ I’m not sure,” I answered truthfully.

  After I’d collected all of my stuff, I hugged Danny, took his business card, and then bid my farewell to the best place on earth. No, not Disneyland. The Transing Pranny.

  But the moment I passed through the doors, the hand clamped around my lungs once again and I struggled for breath.

  Caroline was gone.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Even though I was mostly sober by the time I exited the club, I still opted to take a cab to my parent’s house. I texted my mom to tell her that I was on my way. It was late, and she hadn’t seen me in almost a week, but she didn’t seem upset when the cab pulled up. She and my dad opened the front door and enveloped me in a tight bear hug, squeezing me until my organs protested.

  “ What were you thinking, going on a trip without letting us know about it? And why is your hair and makeup done like that?” my mom muttered. I knew her questions were rhetorical because she threw me into another body-squeezing hug before I even had time to formulate a response. I let her tug me closer. I was coming down from my drag queen-induced high and the security of my parents’ embrace threatened to break the seal on my tears.

  My mom was still hugging me when she whispered into my ear, “Honey, I’m so sorry.” My hands, which a moment before were gently re
sting on her back, grasped her shirt for dear life. My fingernails dug into the thin cotton fabric. I squeezed my eyes shut, but tears still found their way down my cheeks. Hearing her say it out loud was more than I’d prepared myself for on the cab ride over. Caroline’s emaciated face melted into my thoughts. Her sunken cheeks, her sad, dark eyes. Our last conversation on the phone was too short. Had I even told her I loved her? Did she know that I would have never survived treatment without her?

  She was gone.

  I melted into my mom’s arms and let her hold my weight as I surrendered to the sadness. I felt all of it. I didn’t shirk away from the absolute, all-encompassing pain that threatened to bring me to my knees. I’d experienced death and dying. Some could argue that because I knew Caroline was going to pass away, that my grieving process would have been different, but it was a different kind of grief that I felt.

  I was enraged for Caroline’s sake. Yes, I was sad that my best friend would no longer be my best friend and that I had a gaping hole in my life, in my heart. But I was just so livid at the world for ripping Caroline’s life out of her hands. She was slow to anger, sweet and kind in every instance. If anyone deserved to not have cancer, it was Caroline. So I was left with this pit in my stomach that shattering a thousand urns would never fix. I was too young to be so cynical, but there was no way to avoid it when you learned that being good all year didn’t mean Santa Claus left you toys; it meant that no matter how hard you fought, the cells in your body were going to do anything they wanted. We were helpless to the mechanisms that made us humans. They controlled destiny, not us.

  “ When did she pass away?” I asked once I thought I could speak without a sob breaking through.

  “ Late last night,” my mom answered.

  I breathed in silent sobs, inhaling whiffs of my mother’s perfume.

  “ Her funeral is on Thursday,” my mom offered.

  Two days. Two days to think of how I would commemorate Caroline’s life in a eulogy.