Part Three

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Katya's shit eating grin had been filling your mind the entire ride home. You couldn't stop thinking about the queen and it was getting annoying. Wether she was decked out in clothes from Vladimir Lenin's wife's personal wardrobe, or a cackling bald man in a Starbucks, you found Katya hot as fuck. It was getting difficult to internalize all this and you knew you were gonna blab it someway or another, you also knew it was probably going to be to Violet and she was most definitely going to make fun of you for it.

The trek up the stairs to your apartment felt more treacherous each time and with all the heels you were wearing, your ankles were practically begging you to call you landlord about getting the elevator fixed. You didn't care though. You liked to torture yourself. That why you'd taken Katya on as a client after all, wasn't it?

You fumbled with your keys, frustratedly attempting to unlock your door before Paul yanked it open instead.

"Where the duck did you go, bitch?" He scoffed in annoyance. You were to exhausted from last night to snap back though. You simply pulled your keys from the door, walked straight passed the queen, who was previously Violet Chachki and flopped down onto your sofa. "Oh shit." Paul gasped, quickly closing the door before rushing to your side. "What's up your ass?" He teased, poking you with mock disgust in an attempt to get you to laugh. You just groaned though, turning your face into the couches pillows. Paul got the hint and carefully removed the heels from your feet, picking your feet up from the couch and setting them on his lap instead.

"I can't stand her." You drawled out with a fake cry. The brunette quirked his eyebrows and pursed his lips slightly for a further explanation. "Katya!" You responded with, pouting.

"What?" Paul scoffed, taken a back. "Katya's the best, what the fucks wrong with you?" She stifled a sarcastic laugh. You just groaned again, harshly rubbing your hands over your face in frustration.

"I know! That's the shitty part!" You yelled back harshly in frustration. A look of offence, then realization, then shock and then even more shock passed over Paul's face and you could have sworn all 7 stages of grief went along with them. You groaned again, throwing your face back down into the pillows.

"You like her. Don't you bitch." Paul's voice was gentle but filled with built up excitement. It just made you more angry to be completely honest.

"Yea. Yeah I fucking do." You stated in annoyance. He quirked one of his perfectly arched eyebrows at you.

"Why is that such a bad thing?" He hummed, leaning back into the couch as he waited for what he assumed would be a lengthy conversation. He was definitely right to assume.

"I can't do anything about it girl! That's why!" You whined, sitting up forcefully so that Paul could see the desperate look on your face. "You should have seen how excited he was to work with me! Im a professional, I can't be friends with, let alone have a crush on a client... Especially not a gay one!" You protested desperately. You were very much frustrated and you knew Paul was there for you, but sometimes it was hard not to want to slap him.

The queen nodded his head slowly with furled eyebrows in an attempt to understand the situation better.

You wanted to scream.

Of course you were looking forward to working with Katya. Despite the fact that her repertoire wasn't as large as your average clients, she seemed like a cool queen and you were more than happy to help her elevate her career. But since you had developed a crush on her and just wanted to grab her pretty little face and kiss her every time you saw her, there was a much bigger problem.

"That's tough." Paul stated simply, immediately inciting an annoyed eye roll from you.

"Yeah. Kinda." You scoffed, running your hand through your hair in frustration.

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