The Queen & the Homo Jock King (38 page)

“Boy, you haven’t hated him in a long time.” Charlie shook his head. “You talk a big game. Queens always do. But in the end, you’re just like the rest of us. The others might not see it. But I’ve been around for a long time, okay? I know how you are. I know how you act, how you move. How you get when you’re nervous or upset. Or happy, even. You may think you hate him, but you don’t.”

“Really?” I asked. “Or maybe I’m just that good. Maybe I’m Meryl Streeping the shit out of this, and you don’t even know.”

“Sometimes I don’t think even
you
hear the bullshit that flops from your mouth.”

“You don’t know what he did,” I hissed at him, starting to pace back and forth. “You don’t know how he—”

“Made you think you were something to be treasured, then treated you like shit just when you thought you were getting somewhere?” Charlie asked lightly.

I stopped and stared at him. “How the fuck do you know that?” I demanded.

He shrugged. “I know everything that happens here. You think crap like that can happen inside this place without me finding out?”

“You never said anything!”

“Neither did you,” he said. “I waited for it, or at the very least, I expected you to say something to Paul. But you didn’t, so I let it go. But here we are, bringing it up like it
matters
to you.”

“Because it does!”

“Why now?” It was maddening how calm he was.

“Why
not
now? People like that don’t change. They’re
always
going to be assholes.”

“Then why did you agree to this?”

“For the bar,” I said. “I already told you that.”

“The bar,” he said. “That’s it?”

“Yes.”

“And people don’t change, do they?”

“No. They don’t.”

“Well, then. Let me tell you a story. Once upon a time, there was a loud and persistent little gay boy who wouldn’t take no for an answer. He was annoying and fearless and an asshole of the highest order. He was a teenager, so it was to be expected, because most teenagers are assholes. But you know what? It worked for him at the time. Because it got his foot in the door and people to take notice of him. And you know what? Maybe he continued to be an asshole for a little while, but eventually he grew up into this person that I could be proud of, this person that I love almost more than anything else in the world. That little boy is
not
the same person that I see now, so don’t you tell me people can’t change, Sandy. Don’t you tell me that at all, because they
can
. I was the asshole stuck in a marriage even though I knew I didn’t love her. I was the asshole that agreed to bring kids in this world. I was the asshole that finally told the truth and had it all taken away from me. And you know what?
I
changed too. And some days, even, I like to think that maybe it was for the better. I know you’re hurt. I know he hurt you. But don’t you tell me that people can’t change. Because you did. Because I did.”

I was in
awe
of him.

I said, “You’re pretty much my most favorite thing in the world.”

The harsh look on his face melted a little. “Likewise, boy.”

I went to stand beside him and held his hand, pretending it was because he needed the comfort, but both of us knowing it was what I needed even more.

He waited for me to gather my thoughts.

“Maybe…,” I started, then stopped. Because I wasn’t sure what to say.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he said gruffly.

“What?”

He squeezed my hand. “I’ll let you go on as you are. I’ll even help you with this foolish plan of yours. Lord knows part of me wants to see how this turns out. But when this is all said and done, you sit down with him. You tell him how you feel. You can even tell him how he hurt you. But you have to remember that people can change. Who we once were isn’t who we’re always going to be.”

And if that wasn’t the most terrifying thing I’d ever heard, I didn’t know what was.

But what choice did I have?

I said, “Sure, Charlie,” and I meant it.

And maybe we didn’t say any more after that. And maybe he let me hold his hand for a while longer.

Good man, that Charlie.

I LOVED
Charlie.

I really, really did.

So of course I took his words to heart.

I did feel something for Darren. And maybe it was possible that he felt something for me too.

But the fact remained that I was still a drag queen.

And drag queens were assholes.

We have to be in order to put up with some of the shit we get.

So while Charlie was absolutely correct that I’d grown and was different than I’d been at seventeen, I was still an asshole and would most likely always be an asshole. At least partly.

Which explained how a twink named Caleb came into our lives, creating havoc unlike anything the world had ever seen.

And in the process, became my most mortal of enemies.

Even more so than Darren had ever been.

One might say it started with some text messages.

Which, in retrospect, was most likely my fault.

Because people could change, yes.

But they were still dicks.

ME:
DARREN

Me:
Darren

Me:
DARREN

Darren:
What!!!

Me:
Hi =D

Darren:
Hi

Me:
What are you doing?

Darren:
I’m at work. Like you should be

Me:
Oh. I’m at work too. Bored :/

Darren:
And you thought you would bug me

Me:
Rude. I don’t bug. I bless with my presence. Get it right

Darren:
Right. Sorry. Thank you for blessing me with your presence

Me:
Was that sarcastic? I can’t tell through text

Darren:
No

Me:
Good

Darren:
OR WAS IT

Me:
—
-^—-\o/——

Darren:
What the hell is that?

Me:
A shark coming to eat you while you’re swimming for being text sarcastic

Darren:
You know, it’s my fault for even asking

Me:
I’m glad you understand that already. It’ll make things easier

Darren:
What things?

Me:
Nm. Anyway. I have news!

Darren:
I am quivering in anticipation

Me:
Gross. That sounds like a serious medical condition

Darren:
I don’t have a serious medical condition!

Me:
But you’re QUIVERING

Me:
That sounds serious

Me:
Are you sweating too?

Me:
Blurry vision?

Me:
Explosive bowel movements?

Darren:
Jesus Christ

Me:
Anyway. We have our second drag bachelor!

Me:
Brian agreed. Said he’d be more than happy to help.

Me:
Didn’t even have to persuade him or bribe him at all

Me:
I think maybe he just really wants to dress in drag

Me:
I don’t judge. Because. You know

Me:
<--drag queen

Me:
So that’s good news!

Me:
Hello

Me:
?

Me:
Darren

Darren:
Yeah, that’s good

Me:
Right? It’ll be a good time had by all

Darren:
You guys talk a lot?

Me:
Who?

Darren:
You and Brian

Me:
Some

Darren:
You going to bid on him at the auction?

Me:
????

Me:
Of course not

Darren:
Okay

Me:
I’ll be the MC. I don’t bid on anyone

Darren:
Ah. And what about me?

Me:
What about you?

Darren:
People will bid on me?

Me:
Yeah. That’s kind of the point

Darren:
And no one will have a problem with that?

Me:
Why would they?

Darren:
Because we’re dating

Darren:
FAKE

Darren:
FAKE DATING

Me:
Oh

Me:
Right

Me:
No, no problems

Me:
It’ll be like we told your dad

Me:
Just for the money

Me:
Vince won’t care

Darren:
I was more worried about Paul and Corey

Me:
They are vicious little things, aren’t they?

Darren:
That’s probably an understatement

Darren:
Did I tell you Paul called me?

Me:
What? When?

Darren:
The day after they caught us in the Lair

Me:
He did?!?! What did he say????

Darren:
He threatened me

Me:
HE WHAT

Darren:
Said if I ever hurt you, he’d come after me

Darren:
and murder me. Then use acid to melt the remains

Darren:
and that he would laugh while doing it.

Darren:
He said he wouldn’t feel bad at all

Darren:
And that he probably wouldn’t even get caught

Me:
WHAT

Darren:
I’ll admit. I was almost scared

Darren:
And then Johnny Depp started screaming that Paul was raping him

Darren:
And that someone needed to save him from Paul’s pencil dick

Darren:
I told him I wasn’t scared of him anymore

Darren:
So he hung up on me

Me:
WHAT THE HELL

Darren:
So. That’s your best friend

Darren:
Murderer and bird rapist

Me:
Isn’t he amazing?!?! I love him

Darren:
He’s all right

Me:
HEY

Darren:
Sorry. He’s amazing

Me:
That’s better

Darren:
There’s also something wrong with that bird

Me:
Yeah, Johnny Depp is mentally deficient

Me:
Anyway, I just wanted to tell you I got Brian

Me:
I’ll let you get back to your work

Darren:
It’s okay. I don’t mind

Darren:
I probably shouldn’t have said that

Me:
YOU DON’T MIND????

Me:
I am going to text you ALL THE TIME NOW

Me:
Hey Darren

Darren:
What

Me:
What do you call it when a gay guy texts you?

Darren:
What

Me:
Homotextual

Me:
GET IT

Darren:
Oh dear god

Me:
You laughed. Don’t lie

Darren:
Against my will

Me:
You love me

Me:
IT. You love IT. Stupid autocorrect. Sorry

Me:
Anyway

Me:
You coming to the show tomorrow?

Darren:
Yeah. I’ll be there.

Unsent Message:
I like it when you’re there

Unsent Message:
It makes me happy

Unsent Message:
I don’t know why

Unsent Message:
Why are you always there?

Unsent Message:
What’s rule 10?

Unsent Message:
You’re always there

Unsent Message:
And I think I want you to be

Messages saved to draft

Delete unsent messages?

Messages deleted

Me:
Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow then. Bye =P

Darren:
Later

WHICH LED
to Caleb.

THE NEXT
night, Wednesday, was packed, the bar almost overflowing. A line had started to form outside the door once we’d filled to capacity. News had started to spread of our drag bachelor auction, with Mike taking to the bar’s social media pages and blasting the hell out of it. A flier had been designed, me as Helena at the center of it and two seminude men were photoshopped on either side of me, muscles prominent and pulled taut as they leaned toward me, the curves of their thighs hiding their junk. I suppose I had to give Mike some credit for the photo he used of me, a long straight platinum blonde wig, smoky eyes, and bright red lipstick, a perfectly manicured fingernail barely pulling against my bottom lip. It was a seductive pose, one of my better ones. It looked good, and not like the usual cheap trashy fliers he had made that I detested. He knew he needed to move fast and had done good work since the weekend. Not that I would ever tell him that, however. I needed to keep his ego in check.

The trickle effect usually meant the bar would be more crowded, as the buildup toward the bachelor auction began to spread. Events like these were far and few between outside of Pride month, and it helped that the event was taking place between the end of classes and finals and everyone was going to need to take a break from studying that night. We’d be having nothing but drunk, horny college students ready to descend on the bar to see musclemen in drag.

Paul and Vince were downstairs, nursing a beer or two. They’d told me they were leaving early, probably right after my show. Which was fine, of course. Not everyone can stay out late on a Wednesday night, especially when we had to work in the morning. We weren’t getting any younger, to be sure. I remember thinking in my twenties how nothing would change in my thirties, but it did. I couldn’t stay out all night like I could before and be fresh for work the next morning. No, if I tried that now, I’d look like the Crypt Keeper from
Tales from the Crypt
crawling into the office come Thursday morning. I tended to mingle for only a little bit these days after I’d finished and would duck out quickly, as it always took me a while to come down from Helena. I needed at least five hours of sleep to be a semifunctioning human being, especially since I had to sit in a cubicle all day and watch my dreams die minute by minute. And the drinking was kept to a minimum, given that I couldn’t recover from hangovers as quickly as I used to. It used to be that I could get shitfaced, then wake up and eat a breakfast burrito from Los Betos and feel fine the rest of the day. Now, if I make the mistake of getting plastered, I tend not to move from the couch the following day, staring at the TV with glazed eyes while watching real housewives doing fake things.