Take My Dress Off

by S. Gilmour

  “Back the fuck off!”

  “Aw, that’s so cute. You standing up for your boyfriend, Queer?”

  Greg’s friends jumped in and grabbed him. They dragged him back to the elevator as he struggled against them. “Sorry guys,” the taller one called. “He gets hot when he’s had too much.”

  I let out my breath and started shaking as the elevator doors closed. Donny straightened his shirt. Chaz pulled me to him, his eyes flashing with anger as his chest heaved.

  “Are you okay?” Chaz asked as he glanced back to the elevator. The lights revealed it had stopped on the sixth floor.

  Danielle grabbed Donny’s hand. “Let’s go back to the room,” she coaxed. Donny glanced back at the numbers above the elevator then threw his eyes over to Chaz. Chaz shook his head “no”.

  “Sure,” said Donny. He nodded to Chaz. He put his arm around Danielle’s shoulder and they started down the hall.

  We sat in silence, watching MTV. Donny curled up with Danielle on her bed and Chaz lounged next to me on mine. The Human League’s Don’t You Want Me Baby video had just started when there was a knock on the door. I sat up stiffly and Chaz walked over to the door and looked out the peephole.

  “It’s your stylist, Paige,” he called.

  Trent entered pushing a room service cart draped in a white cloth. “Special delivery,” he sang and yanked the tablecloth from the cart revealing bottles of beer, wine coolers, sodas, and two bottles of vodka.

  “Jesus!” beamed Donny.

  “I grabbed what I could from the bar, they were shutting it down.”

  “Thanks, Trent,” I said and rose to give him a hug.

  “Thanks, man,” said Chaz.

  “Sure. I told you I take care of my models,” he winked. “If you need anything else I’m three doors down in room four-fifteen.” He tucked the tablecloth under his arm and left.

  Donny stood and announced, “I believe we have a party here boys and girls.” He turned to me and squeezed one eye shut. “What’s your poison, m’ lady?”

  “Wine cooler, please,” I giggled.

  “Such a chick.” He shook his head, twisted the top from the wine cooler, and handed it to me.

  “Ditto,” called Danielle.

  “Bor-ing,” Donny sang.

  We sat on the end of the bed and sipped our wine coolers. Chaz and Donny started on the bottle of vodka, passing it back and forth.

  “Jesus!” called Danielle. “Slow down, put it in some soda.”

  “Argh!” grimaced Donny, shaking his head. “It’s not cold.” He walked over to the dresser and picked up the ice bucket, tucking the bottle of vodka under his arm.

  “Hey, you better come back with that,” called Chaz. He reached onto the cart, grabbed the other bottle of vodka and twisted off the top.

  “Take it easy there, cowboy,” I cautioned. “You’ll be blasted with bright lights and loud music tomorrow. It’s brutal if you’re hung over.”

  “Fuckin’ A,” Danielle snorted in agreement.

  Without warning the door flew open and a conga line of stylists and models paraded into our room. They danced and sang around the room and turned in a tight circle near the vanity. They were still coming into the room as the front of the line exited.

  “Conga?” said Danielle. “What is this, the seventies?”

  Donny was at the end of the line behind Trent. “C’mon, beautiful.” He tossed his hair from his eyes and extended his black fingernails to Danielle.

  “What the hell,” she shrugged. Sliding her fingers into the belt loops of his black jeans she joined in behind Donny. Finally, the party-goers exited the room. I locked the door behind them.

  “That was crazy,” said Chaz as he poured vodka and soda into the glasses on the dresser. “Are these shows always like this?”

  “Yes. Which is why it’s a good thing they only come once a year.”

  He nodded and handed the glass to me.

  “Cheers,” I said and we clinked our glasses. He climbed on top of the bed and I stood in the middle of the room, glaringly aware of the emptiness from the loss of energy from the conga line. Chaz patted the space next to him and I sat, obviously aware that we were alone.

  I was nervous.

  And excited.

  But mostly nervous.

  I sat next to him, my arm grazing his as I propped the pillows up against the headboard and settled in. Chaz flipped through the channels as we sipped our drinks and watched TV.

  “Knight Rider?” he asked, pausing on the channel.

  “Sure,” I replied with a shrug. I don’t know if it was because I had been up early this morning, the sun, the alcohol, or a combination of everything but all of a sudden I was really tired. I felt heavy, my weary body sinking into the mattress. When my eyes started to close Chaz took my glass and switched off the lamp next to the bed, the TV the only source of light flickering across the room.

  “I’m sorry,” I turned on my side to face him. “I’m not much fun. I’m really tired.”

  He threw back the rest of his drink and set the glass on the nightstand. “I’m tired too. I should go back to my room.”

  “There might be a…party going on in there,” I grinned, knowing how crazy Donny and Danielle got when they were drunk. “A private party.”

  “You’re probably right.” His lips parted as he scanned my body sprawled next to him.

  “You could stay here,” I offered and turned onto my stomach.

  “I could…” he said softly. He slowly gathered my hair and swept it to the side. He pressed his thumbs into my back and rubbed in small circles.

  “Mmm, that’s nice,” I said into the pillow. He worked down my back, then his hands stilled and they were gone.

  I rolled over to face him. He was propped up on one elbow, his emerald eyes dropped down my body as his heated gaze washed over me. I reached up to him, needing contact. I raised my hand to his cheek and he turned into my palm. With quickened breath his face was within inches of mine. My hands stole around his neck and tangled into his thick hair. Soft lips covered mine as adrenaline rushed down to my toes. He rolled on top of me and I was flooded with relief to finally have his weight crushing me into the bed. His tongue slowly pushed between my teeth and I was thankful for the darkness so he couldn’t see me coming undone. I had waited so long for this. His kisses became more demanding, urgent, and I moaned as his tongue tangled with mine.

  And then he raised up and was lifting away from me as my hands slipped from his neck.

  “What’s wrong?” I whispered.

  “Nothing.”

  I sat up and studied him. The TV flickered across his face. His eyes focused on the screen as he ran his hands through his hair.

  “Did I do something?”

  “No, we’ve been drinking…a lot. I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret.”

  “Are you drunk?” I whispered.

  “A little,” he whispered back.

  “Me too, I guess.” I straddled him and set my arms on his shoulders to steady myself. “I appreciate this gentleman stuff but it’s really not necessary.”

  He relented and drew me to him for another kiss, his hands sliding under my tank top and caressing my back.

  Then there was banging on the door.

  “Paige? Open up! I forgot my key!” called Danielle.

  I slid from Chaz’s lap and crossed the room as he turned on the lamp.

  “Geez, did you guys fall asleep?” she asked, stomping into the room.

  “Something like that,” I said and shot her a glare.

  “I better go.” Chaz rose from the bed and slipped on his shoes.

  “Oh shit…” Danielle covered her mouth. “Did I interrupt something?”

  “See you bright and early,” Chaz called. “We’ll come get you for breakfast,” he said and gave me a peck on the cheek.

  A peck? What the hell? I locked the door and leaned back against it.

  “What was going on in here?” Danie
lle’s eyes twinkled mischievously.

  “Whatever was going on is over now, thank you very much.” I scolded. I stripped down to my underwear and slipped under the covers.

  “I’m sorry. We need a signal or something.”

  “Like a Do Not Disturb sign?”

  “Yes. Why didn’t you put it on the door?”

  “There was no time. It kind of just happened.”

  “So, are you guys like a couple now?”

  “Who knows?” I rolled onto my side and drifted off to sleep with Chaz’s kiss on my lips.

  ***

  The next morning we rolled out of bed, put on some sweats, and waited. Thankfully, we didn’t need to worry about our hair, make-up or clothes. All of that would be done for us at the convention.

  “It’s getting late. We better go,” said Danielle.

  “Where are the boys?” I asked.

  “They must have overslept.” Danielle banged on the wall and listened. Nothing.

  We went next door and knocked. After a long minute Chaz opened the door. His hair was disheveled, he was shirtless, and his jeans had the top two buttons undone. My knees weakened and I tried not to stare.

  “What time is it?” he asked with squinted eyes as we brushed past him.

  “Time for us to go,” barked Danielle. “C’mon, Sleeping Beauty,” she called over to Donny. He was face down diagonally on the bed, the sheet draped loosely over his naked backside. She sat next to him and shook his shoulder.

  “Hmm…”

  “Wake up, asshole. We gotta go.”

  My eyes trailed after Chaz as he disappeared into the bathroom.

  “Already?” he rolled over. “I’ve barely slept.”

  “Who’s fault is that?” hissed Danielle.

  Chaz returned, drying his face with a towel. I watched him out of the corner of my eye as he ran a comb through his hair and slipped on a striped blue polo shirt. His eyes caught mine in the mirror. I blushed and looked away.

  Danielle picked up a glass of something from the nightstand and held it over Donny’s head. “Get up or you get doused.”

  “Okay, okay, take it easy.” Donny rolled out of bed, but not before pushing Danielle back onto it. He staggered in all of his naked glory into the vanity area and shoved a toothbrush into his mouth. Then he walked into the bathroom and peed without closing the door.

  “Ugh!” snorted Danielle in disgust. “Honestly, he’s so gross.” When he returned he picked up his clothes from the floor and threw them on.

  “I’m ready,” he smiled, spreading his arms. Chaz opened the door and Donny stepped back, his hands blocking the sun as it streamed in.

  “Jesus, Mary, Mother-of-God!” he winced and slipped on his shades.

  The van took us over to the convention center and since we were late we picked through what was left of the breakfast bar…some dried out muffins and coffee.

  “This is shit,” complained Donny as we sat at a small round table. “I need real food. I need eggs and pancakes and pounds of greasy bacon.”

  “Hangover food,” said Danielle.

  “You are correct.” He wiggled his dark eyebrows. “Do we have time to slip outta here?”

  “No,” Danielle and I barked in unison.

  I looked over to Chaz who seemed distant and quiet. He held a Styrofoam cup in his hand, sipping on his coffee slowly.

  “Hey,” I smiled to him. “You okay?”

  “Sure, just really tired,” he offered weakly.

  “Hair of the dog?” asked Donny. He reached back to the empty table behind us and grabbed a half-empty bottle of champagne. “Paige, grab some OJ from the buffet.” I fetched the carafe of juice and some plastic cups. Donny quickly mixed up the drinks.

  “Mimosas, my friends. This will perk us right up.” He distributed cups of the bubbly juice to each of us.

  “Ugh,” scoffed Danielle. “How can you drink so early in the morning?”

  “It’s medicinal,” replied Donny. I took a few sips but it made me nauseous. Chaz gazed at the orange bubbly liquid for a moment then set the cup down. Donny seemed to be the only one who needed it.

  “Drink up, Chaz,” said Donny pouring himself another mimosa.

  Chaz shook his head.

  “C’mon,” encouraged Donny. “Quit being a little bitch.”

  A large Hispanic woman in a long, flowing, red dress strutted into the room. She was heavily made-up with dark hair piled onto her head. She cupped her hands over her mouth and shouted: “Models, please meet your stylists at their stations.”

  “Showtime, guys,” I sang and rose from my chair.

  Donny, being Donny, picked up each of our cups and downed what was left of the mimosas.

  It was a long morning. We had to sit for two hours in the small styling room before it was time for Nexus to present. The boys went first then it was our turn. Our hair was washed and blow-dried, our make-up applied, then we were all dressed in black from head to toe. Tight, black, mini-dresses for the girls, black shirts, ties, and slacks for the guys. Finally, we were up on the stage. Trent quickly parted my hair and clipped up the sections. He combed each section down and ran the too-hot crimping iron over it. I could hear my hair sizzle as he talked into a microphone explaining what he was doing. Danielle was in the chair facing me getting her hot-pink streaked hair curled, her eyes getting bigger every time her chair was spun to face my direction. There were no mirrors on the stage so I had no idea what Trent was doing to me. I glanced over to where Donny and Chaz were waiting off stage. Donny beamed and gave me a “thumbs up” sign, Chaz just stared blankly and I wondered if he hated my hairstyle. His hair had been styled into a pompadour and he was striking with his blond hair contrasting the black clothing.

  Finally, Trent was finished. He dramatically pulled the black smock from me like a magician with his cape and presented his creation. I looped arms with him and we strutted down the runway in step with the music to applause and whistles. Trent stopped and I continued, turning slowly at the end of the ramp. I returned and waited with Trent as Raphael and Danielle took their turn. Donny and Chaz strutted up behind us and we posed as camera flashes went off. We all walked to the end of the ramp, turned, and headed back. Trent and Raphael took a bow then we all exited the stage as the stylists said their thanks.

  “Damn, Paige, you are fierce with that hair,” said Donny as we walked down the hallway and headed back to the styling room to change into our clothes and get our vouchers signed.

  “It feels huge!”

  “Wait till you see it,” teased Danielle.

  “I don’t like that tone, Dan,” scolded Donny.

  I turned to Chaz, “Is it really bad?”

  “No.” He leaned down and whispered, “In fact, I think it’s pretty fucking sexy,” he smiled and narrowed his eyes. I blushed and chills tingled down my spine. I thought about him running his hands through my crazy hair.

  When we got to the stylist’s room I ran up to the mirror at Trent’s station. My long hair’s length had been reduced by a few inches from the crimping. It was huge and full. I looked like the freaking MGM lion!

  “Wow,” I said and ran my hands through the kinky strands.

  Trent came up behind me. “Don’t wash it for a few days, honey. The iron dries it out. It needs to build up oils again.”

  “Okay, thanks,” I replied. Thank you for turning me into a lion, Trent. He picked up his tools and began cleaning up the work station.

  When we were given the go-ahead to leave we picked up our vouchers and dragged ourselves to the limo waiting in the tunnel. Donny and Danielle crawled onto one side, Chaz and I on the other. Donny leaned his back against the dark window and threw his black jean-clad legs over Danielle’s knees as she slumped down in the seat.

  Chaz draped his arm around me and I snuggled against his strong body. “How are you doing, kid?” he asked.

  “Okay,” I sighed as my heavy eyes closed.

  “These hair shows will be the death of me,
” Donny grumbled. The limo ascended out of the cool darkness of the tunnel and into the harsh light of the bright July Sunday. Donny slipped on his shades and we were all asleep in a matter of minutes.

  Chapter Seven

  Chaz crawled into my heart that summer. He made me laugh to the point of tears and he loved to cruise the mall with me. I think he loved shopping more than I did.

  “Are you sure Chaz isn’t like, bisexual?” dropped Danielle casually one day when we were lying around drinking cherry limeades from Rocket’s and watching videos on MTV.

  “Danielle, don’t be such a dork. Of course he’s not. Why would you say such a thing?”

  “Oh my God, Reflex is on! Turn it up, I love Duran Duran!” she squealed. I fumbled with the remote. “John Taylor is so gorgeous I can’t stand it!” she cried and sat closer to the TV. “Dillon does look like him, doesn’t he?” Danielle dug around with the straw in her drink for the cherry.

  “Could you not say the D word?” I scowled. “Actually,” I squinted at the TV. “Donny looks more like John Taylor than…you know who.”

  “Donny’s bisexual.” She popped the cherry into her mouth.

  “What?” I gasped.

  “Donny. You know, Dillon’s brother, senior babe of the Hunter brothers?” She plucked the cherry stem from her teeth.

  “Yes, I am familiar with Donny, duh? Who told you that?”

  “No one, it’s a given. He’s not trying to hide it.”

  “He’s just flamboyant…and dramatic,” I scowled. Though it was beginning to make sense as I mentally scrolled through every encounter I’d ever had with Donny. Most recently, dressed as a transvestite at the drive-in.

  “All of those cute guys he brought with him to the summer show…fags. All of them. They’re not shy about it either.”

  “Victor Munoz?”

  “Gay.”

  “Jeff Mackey?”

  “Gay.”

  “Rob, Bill, Chris?”

  “Gay, gay, gay,” she said in between mouthfuls of ice.

  “Oh. My. God!” I gasped and pursed my lips.

  “Hey? Didn’t Chaz show up with them?” she smirked.