Drag Collab •One Shots•

Rehab •Trixya•

A/N: Hey guys! I'm one of the newest member to this collab account and I'm super excited for you guys to read this story. I think you'll really enjoy it. I would love some feed back as well! Also- this whole story is mainly in Trixie's POV so she will be referring to Katya as her guy name (Brian); seeing as this is a story about their personal lives and not just drag. Shouldn't be too confusing hopefully. But there will be other queens mentioned and I'll more than likely use their drag names to avoid confussion there. Also! I want to warn ya'll that there is a heavy mentioning of drug usage so if that triggers you in anyway- please do not read or continue on with caution. Thank you guys so much and enjoy!

~KellyMattel

~Trixie's POV~

                  Another tour- another show. Once again, I was on stage, hair up to the pearly gates and my heels pointing straight to Hell. As I get in drag I always wonder to myself why the fuck I still do this. "Isn't she flawless, ladies and gentlemen?" Then I hear that voice. It reminds me of all the good things that has come from drag. Katya- being one of them. I look over as I see the beauty herself strut onto the stage with her bright red lipstick and her earthy tone dress. Whether she was Katya, or Brian, I was absolutely crazy about that perfect fucking human. She walked over to me and grabbed my hand as we heard our Abba track begin to play. I looked over at her and she looked at me with a toothy grin. Fuck, I adore that smile. But you see, it wasn't always this great. We've had a long, painful road.... Let me explain.

                                                                          ~One Month Earlier~

                 I had just finished a show and finally wiped away my fifty layers of make-up. Brian wasn't in the show but came to watch me preform as he usually does when I'm booked and he's not. I looked around the club for Brian so we could get the fuck out. Honestly- this was my least favorite club to ever preform at, but they booked me a lot and I got good tips. So, a bitch can't complain. I couldn't find him anywhere so I decided to check outside. I left out the back door and looked everywhere, lugging my bags behind me. "Katya... Brian...?" I then nearly jumped the fuck out of my clothes as I heard a loud thud. I turned around and saw a trash can rolling on its side. "Hello...? Who's there?"  Swallowing my fear, I inched closer towards the trashcans and the loose black trash bags. I heard a low moan and sat my bags down. "Hello...? ...Oh, my god!" That's when I saw it.

                   Brian was sprawled out on the ground, a syringe sticking out of his arm and his belt fastened tightly right above the needle. I let out a scream and ran to him, dropping to my knees. "BRIAN!" I cried and immediately grabbed his wrist to feel for a pulse. Just as I did so- the owner of the club ran out after hearing my screams and ran over. The woman gasped at the sight and I just yelled while still focusing on Brian, "Call for help!" At this point my eyes were so full of tears I could hardly make out the features in Brian's lifeless face. He had a pulse, but it wasn't very strong at all.

    It was all sort of a blur after that point. The next thing I remember was I woke up with my head on Miss. Fame's shoulder in the waiting room of the hospital. My eyes were burning from the sudden bright florescent lights and I could feel the dry tears on my cheeks. I slowly sat up and looked over at Kurtis, rubbing my face. "What's going on...? Where's Brian?" I asked, still kind of groggy.

                     Kurtis put a comforting arm around my shoulders to reassure me that everything would be okay. "You called me the second you got on the ambulance with him... The doctors are still in there stabilizing him. But the nurse came out about ten minutes ago, saying that so far- everything is perfectly fine and normal." Bless this man. It would make sense that I would call Kurtis. He has had addiction problems in the past and when Brian tends to have a hard time staying clean, he turns to him. Most of the time anyway.