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

Chapter 7- Donald Trump's farts

Roy looked at her. He looked at her baggy, grey and falling apart jumpers and her messy, tangled dark hair. He looked at the way she stuck her leg out in a pirouette when she leaned over, and the habit of rubbing her thumb on her index finger when she was thinking. Lastly, she looked at the subtle way she squinted and stuck her bottom lip out when she was doing some mundane task. For instance, right now, Alex was washing the dishes. Why he was so closely watching her he had no idea as he never found a skinny white girl washing dishes so captivating before. She was humming in time to a shit 80's song, her toes tapping. "You weren't even alive then!" He shouted to her.
"Jealous much, Grandad?" She shouted back but he could tell she said it with a smirk.
"Of you? Never."
He heard her huff. He figured it would be now or never. "Hey, do you want to go to a drag show with me? I've been asked to host something and I'd like if you came along." He said it in a slow, laid back tone but he was internally jumbling the words up. Why it was so important to him that she tagged along was unknown and it would remain that way. He didn't particularly want to know why he felt that way. "Sure. I'm gonna go in drag too, right?"
"Yeah. I'd love a handsome man on my side."
"Wouldn't we all?"
"True. I guess I better get someone else to come then."
"Ha!" She said sarcastically. Moments later, she came back from the kitchen sighing and looking outside of the window. "It's getting pretty dark." She paused. "What's the date?" She asked suddenly in a small voice. "24th of November. Why?"
"No reason." She replied, her eyes looking off distantly.
Roy studied her. She rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet and the palm of her hand was gleaming with sweat. "You look really suspicious."
"Do I?"
"Yeah. Sit down."
She complied and sighed a little before managing to paint on the widest and presumably what she thought was the most convincing grin ever made. He looked at her with mild amusement. "What's up? What's wrong with the 24th of November?"
"Nothing."
"Then why are you acting all weird?"
"I don't want to talk about it." She shuffled uncomfortably. "I'm sorry, really." She added. Roy noticed she was avoiding his line of sight. "That's okay. I know you probably don't know me well enough to trust me with that kind-"
"No, it's not that. It's just a really long story." In that specific moment, Alex Barr looked years older than 23. "The event isn't until like 10pm so we've got a while."
Alex frowned. "I want to tell you. But I can't. Not really."
He shrugged. "Not my decision. Do you wanna go shopping instead?"
"Duh! Get your coat." She exclaimed, zooming off to the hall. Roy smiled at her sudden perkiness. He should have known the promise of material possessions would please her.

Alex had spilt coffee on her grey jeans in an arm wrestle with Roy at Costa but thankfully it avoided her clothes. "Why forever 21?" He asked, side eyeing the bag. "I like a lot of the stuff there."
"That's very-"
"Basic white girl, I know. You're jealous of my youth."
He looked at her smooth, unwrinkled face, porcelain and clear. He supposed he was in a way. "Whatever you say. What did you even get?"
With a few stray donut crumbs falling from her mouth she bent down to the bag and opened it, pulling out a small, sheer black dress. She swallowed the sticky contents of her mouth quickly. "Isn't it cute?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that a shirt?" She shrugged. "It'll be big on me so who cares. Think how cool it'd look though." Roy did as instructed and felt his face heat up slightly. "Where are you planning on wearing that?"
She looked pensive for a moment and then shrugged. "I don't know, to be honest. It's not like I have any friends." She said with a bitter, bark like laugh. "I'm your friend." She looked up at him through dark lashes. "Yeah." She agreed quietly. They then sat in comfortable silence, drinking their coffee and checking out their social media accounts. "Stop tagging me in memes, oh my God." Roy grumbled. Her only response was to tag him in more, the most notable of which being a short video of a man eating ravioli out of his pocket.

Alex, now Clarke, was making the last adjustments to his eyebrows. An extra little hair there or a bit of darkness here was always required- perfection was key when it came to his drag. He ruffled the short black hair upon his hair, trying to get the gel to actually work properly. Once satisfied with his reflection, (an endeavour that took the best part of an hour) he took a selfie and uploaded it to his barely used Instagram. "Roy! Or Bianca or whatever! I'm hot now!"
A loud snort sounded from the other room. "Rude." He muttered to himself. He wandered out the door and to the outside of Bianca's room, banging on the door. "Hey! I though you people were supposed to be polite!" She snapped. "Are you almost-"
"I'm gluing down this lash. Give me a minute."
She emerged moments after. Her hair was a copper colour, curly and piled on top of her head with a few loose tendrils falling down. Her makeup, while usually "bozo the clown inspired" was actually feminine and alluring looking (although she still admittedly wore a little too much) and she was wearing a short white dress, ending just above her knees. Clarke blinked at the sight but quickly cleared his throat. "Off we go then?"
"Yeah." She replied, looking at her companion. Clarke was even smaller than usual as she was wearing heels but he still exuded masculinity. Which was impressive considering that jut a few hours ago he was a young, small girl in a skirt. The transformative power of drag was always one of the most interesting ones to her and she must admit, Clarke undertook the biggest transformation around. She gazed at his padded shoulders sighed. Clarke and Alex were not two different people, rather they were two sides of the same coin and the fact that Bianca had the... Lurid thoughts be had for Clarke must mean he must at least have some for Alex. This fact scared him and put a sour taste in his mouth. "You look like you've just swallowed one of Donald Trump's farts." He said plainly. "I-...what?" Bianca was even more shocked to discover that while thinking her deep, philosophical thoughts, she has stepped into a taxi and was well on her way to the actual event.
"You look a bit... Disturbed? I hope the thought of sticking around me for so long doesn't make you as naseous as you look."
"It's the cologne you wear. Like cat piss."
"Hey at least someone has claimed me as their own."
Bianca's eyes rolled. "It was probably that navy sail pirate dude."
Clarke burst into laughter. "Jesus Christ. What a weirdo. I hope they're not here."
"Here's your chance to find out." She cackled, paying the man an appropriate amount of money. Clarke's feet on the concrete felt uneasy. "So... Ahead, right?"
Bianca looked at the bright lights, loud noises and general bustle in front of her and smirked. "Fuckin' genius." She strode forwards confidently, Clarke following. "You look scared, loosen up a bit." She whispered to him. "I am scared."
"Well, don't let them know that." Clarke nodded, taking these words into account and faked a confident smile as the camera flashed in front of his eyes. Bianca grabbed Clarke's shoulder and placed a quick and chaste kiss on his cheek, the flashes increasing dramatically. "If that doesn't get you more well known nothing will." She whispered in his ear, making his face heat up. He was thankful for the copius amount of makeup he was wearing. "You better be wearing matte lipstick." He replied. He got no answer besides a laugh and a grin. Suddenly, he was twirled around and was face to face with a vaguely familiar drag queen. "Hello! Bianca Del Rio!" She said, grinning at the aforementioned 'woman' besides him. "Mimi! Good to see ya, bitch!" She smiled back, her white teeth blending in with the brightness of the flashes going on around them. Clarke was vaguely aware of a brightly coloured queen with pink and yellow hair posing in the background. "How are you doing tonight?"
"Pretty good, pretty good. I'm really excited to see all the queens and kings out today, it's a really nice little event, y'know."
Mimi nodded and then turned to face him. "Hi, gorgeous! What's your name?"
His mind went blank for a moment but quickly remembering to present the drag persona to the camera, he grinned lopsidedly and began to talk. "Clarke Trojan. Like the movie star... and the condom." He winked. Mimi giggled and waggled her eyebrows at the camera. "Oh, you're British! Have you been here long?"
"Only a few months. It's been really great so far and the new york scene is completely bursting with life. It's so fun!"
Mimi nodded quickly. "It's been great talking to you both!" She waved and then quickly skipped off. He could vaguely hear her exclaim "Freakin' Cute!" From the distance. Bianca chuckled. "Don't mind her. She's just interviewing for... Gay times, I think."
Clarke nodded, still slightly dazed. He had received a slight bit of media attention from his exploits with Adore but never anything near this big. He wondered how Bianca did it all the time. "Let's go inside now." She placed a hand on his back to usher him down the carpet and through a large door.
With a sigh of relief he placed his hands in his pockets. That was terrifying.

A/N: so like guys I died of like illness, got a girlfriend, died of illness again and got resurrected bc of all the votes and lovely comments how cute omg
Ill be trying to update regularly from now on so dw guys
Hope u liked it
ALSO
please read my jack sparrow fic
It's a bit shit because I was probably drunk/high/both when I wrote it but when it goes through editing it should be rad. Like I have some uber cool concept but like no one wants to read it sigh