Oh, the Irony (Bianca Del Rio/Roy Haylock x OC)

Chapter 1- The Greediest

A.N: (Hi guys! As I said in the summary or description or whatever it's called, this will have strong language and mature themes although not enough for it to be rated Mature itself, if you understand. That's subject to change, of course. Also, what was not mentioned is that the very first section of the story is somewhat inspired by another author who did another RoyXOC story on here. I didn't know how to start it off and I though that'd be fitting. I reccomend you read it though, of course. Any constructive criticism is welcome and I'd love basically any comments on this as I know its not a particularly popular subject to write about. Anyway, without further ado, let's get on with the story ~)

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Adore and Bianca were best friends, though Bianca would never admit to it. Through thick and thin, lacefront wig to synthetic, they were always there for each other, despite usually being hundreds, if not thousands of miles apart. But that was not the case today because today, Adore was in New York and although this would be her last night there, she intended to make it her best. But, to do that, Adore would have to stop being Danny first. "I can't be hitting no club with no drag on! I've gotta have full mermaid geish on at all times!" He whined, sitting on the brown sofa in Roy's apartment. (he remembered when he first bought it and Danny asked why the sofa was brown and not white or another colour as it would go with the colour scheme a great deal more. His answer made him refuse to sit on said sofa for at least a week) Rooting around in his old, slightly gross makeup bag, he pulled out his favourite thick, gloopy foundation. He recoiled at the liquid spilling over the sides and onto his hand, making him cringe at the feeling. A drop fell onto the carpet and Danny instantly panicked, staring at it wide eyed for a second before frantically scrubbing at it with a cloth. "Are you quite done ruining my carpet? I've got shit to do." Roy's voice made him jump and he quickly stood up, hiding the cloth behind him with a sheepish smile."Sorry." He said, not even that surprised that Roy was already halfway in drag already. "Have you got any eyelashes I can borrow? Mine have gone all crusty and gross." Roy snorted, biting back a comment about how Danny's drag was so unpolished, he probably bought them second or third hand anyway. "What's that supposed to mean? Oh my God!" He sounded offended but said it with a smile, somewhat used to the abuse Roy thrown at him on a regular basis. "I've got a pair somewhere. You have to start with whatever that," he motioned to the light skin coloured blob on his carpet "is supposed to be. Just don't take too long, yeah? I know what you're like, takes you 20 minutes to draw on a fuckin' eyebrow." Danny couldn't even really object to this point.

After the boys had turned into fierce glamazons, (a clown and a Mermaid on crack) Adore had the idea to go to one of the most obscure drag places in New York and visit one of her apparent friends. The club they were going to didn't scream 'respectability' to Bianca, more 'rat piss' and 'heroin' but she obliged anyway. Starting in New Orleans, she didn't have the (mis)fortune of starting in the particularly seedy clubs in New York. She remembered asking Mimi about it once and she mostly just cringed and tried to change the subject. "Who's this friend, then?" She asked, getting into the cab with Adore. "No one you'd know. Just a friend I met in England. Fuckin' party though." She laughed, inspecting the ends of her pink wig. Bianca rolled her eyes. Adore thought everyone was a party. She was friends with Laganja for Christ's sake. "Forgive me if I don't believe you." With a pout, Adore flipped her hair. "I'm a Libra, remember? Great judge of character." Bianca's mouth barely opened before Adore quickly added "Don't talk about Laganja." They both laughed. Eventually, the cab ride came to an end and Bianca insisted to be the one to pay .("I won the 100 thousand dollars, didn't I? I can afford more than you, bitch.")

The club itself was slightly nicer than Bianca's initial impression although that didn't mean much; the place was full of smoke, (tobacco, stage smoke or something else, she didn't know) the door queens were a bit overbearing and the drinks were hard to get a hold of. "Find your goddamn friend and get outta here! I feel like a posh white woman on the bus, I'm being eyed up and judged everywhere." Adore mumbled a reply, something like "I know, I just---- gotta--- and pee." At 40, she supposed her hearing isn't what it used to be. Or maybe music just got louder and more annoying. Ordering the least poisonous looking cocktail available, she sat on the side, watching the stage and sipped her straw, already a bit bored with the whole thing. The music quietened and the lights dimmed, a name was hurriedly shouted over such a bad quality microphone so no one could really heat their name. People still clapped and the lights still went up anyway. Emerging from the curtains, a man with an elaborate kid of Mohawk, side fringe thing appeared with a few tattoos and an open jacket, exposing his toned stomach. Bianca smirked at the man, thinking about the inappropriate things she'd do to him before realizing as the man got closer and close and closer that the abs were painted on, the face was contoured heavily and she even spotted some black duct tape at the very edge of the jacket. The man was in fact, a drag king. Bianca scoffed at herself, realizing the irony of the situation but watched on anyway. It looked like a man and if he was gonna grid on up on someone while lip syncing then she may as well watch. It was hot regardless. "Oh, there he is!" Bianca was ripped out of her sexuality questioning daze by Adore's voice. "That's my friend. He's great isn't he? Really convincing." Bianca silently agreed. Aforementioned drag king noticed Adore in the crowd and gave a quick wink and kiss to him. Bianca frowned at this. "He'll be down soon and we can get out of here, don't worry. I might invite him to come along with us, he doesn't have many friends in New York." At this news, Bianca could only assume he was a weirdo so took the news that not only was she mildly attracted to him/ her (but then again, she looked just like a him so who cares?) But that he was also a social pariah as slightly unnerving to her. She always thought she had excellent taste. After the rest of his performance which included grinding, stripping off various bits of clothing and just generally dancing and being an impressive lip syncer, Bianca was actually a little impressed. Not blown over, but impressed. She always did admire drag kings for tucking their boobs. Duct tape on the nipple would be painful, she imagined. When he finally did come offstage, Adore was quick to talk to him about her life and what had been going on with her family and such. "Ew! You're so sweaty, ohmygod!" She squealed, making the mistake of putting her arm around him. "Sweatier than a nun in a cucumber field." He said with a British accent and a smile. Bianca noticed that he was actually very small, only about 5 foot odd and looked even smaller thanks to the addition of everyone in heels. "I might steal that, actually." She said with a grin. He looked at her for a second blankly before his eyes widened in recognition. "Bianca Del Rio! So this is who you wanted me to meet, oh my God!" Bianca usually felt slightly awkward when a fan exclaims her name as if she were a deity or something and this was one of those times. "I feel rude because you know my name but I don't know yours." With a pale, slim hand extended, he smiled slightly, contoured cheek emphasizing it even more. "Clark Trojan. Like the horse. And the condom." Bianca laughed and shook it heartily. "Great to meet you. I gotta say I'm surprised that you even know what a condom is. Drag kings are lesbians, it's the law." She joked. He and Adore laughed along although in a quiet voice he said "I'm not a lesbian. I just do whoever floats my boat. Which happens to be a lot of people, I suppose." He sounded almost awkward about it which struck Bianca as incredibly odd. "Greedy then?" He looked her straight in the eye, blue contact against blue contact and winked. "The greediest."