Slaving over a personal project, you completely lost track of time until the light in your studio began to dim. Sitting upright and stretching out your back, you glanced to the clock and sighed. Time to get ready.
Pushing away from your work table and all its paint stains, you spun in your office chair to stare down your closet. What were you meant to wear to a drag show? You were not really the going-out type, so your party clothes selection was abysmal. You opted for something a little more casual - an off the shoulder black top and some plaid pants. Probably not the most club appropriate but it would do.
You attempted a light makeup look with a red lip, very classic. Tucking your phone into your pocket and picking up your purse, you took one last glance in the mirror before skirting back to your desk and sketch book. Noting the address and realising it really was not too far from you, you lingered a little on the phone number. Mulling it over, you figured you'd let Brian know you'd be there.
To: Brian From The Coffee Shop
"Hey, it's [Y/N]! Just letting you know I'll be there tonight! Where should I be to meet the queens?"
After sending that off, you pulled up the maps app on your phone, deciding just to walk to the club.
The night was setting in fast, cold and crisp. It felt like it was going to snow soon. Maybe you should have brought a jacket. Oh well, too late now. The maps told you to turn one last corner, where you were met with whomping music and a collecting crowd. The street was awash in red neon from the sign above the door that read Klub Katya. Briefly wondering who Katya was, you slid into the line, fishing out your ID for the bouncer. The crowd around you seemed like a lot of fun - there were a lot of ladies, but that came as no surprise. There was a lot of support from the lesbian and bi girl community for drag queens. There were plenty of gay guys too, and a spattering of baby queens. Glancing over one in front of you, you stopped short.
"Tom?" you asked. Tom was a friend of yours from your visual arts classes, doing a dual degree in visual arts and theatre. He - well, she - turned slowly towards you, seemingly guarded. "Oh my god, hey!" Now you could see that just as she was talented on a canvas, she was talented with makeup. She looked like a living Bratz doll, full lips, big eyes, a platinum and pink wig styled in spiky 90s buns. "Wow, you look incredible!"
She defrosted some. "Really?" Nodding enthusiastically, you checked out the outfit. "Thank you... What are you doing here?"
"Oh, my god, fun story. I actually met one of the queens who perform here at our coffee place! Well, not in drag, but anyway. We got to talking and I told him about our portrait project. I've been so stuck on it since I don't have a subject. Anyway, he suggested I come by and he would introduce me to the queens to find someone to paint!"
Tom's eyes widened. "How do you always have the coolest interactions! Girl where is my luck? It's not fair," she whined. You laughed together, scooting up in the line. "Wait, so what's her name? I know all these queens, I come here a lot."
You stopped again. "I... Never actually got his drag name. Damn, how am I meant to look for him now?"
Your friend gave you a sympathetic look. "Well, if you end up not meeting them, come hang with me and the dolls!" She shuffled to the side, and you saw her small troupe of baby queens - though you'd never have guessed they were new to the scene, they all looked polished. You offered a small wave.
"You got it. Hey, wait, what's your drag name? I can't be calling you Tom all night."
She smiled shyly. "Heather Boa..."
You paused before breaking into a grin. "I fucking love your brain." She laughed, giving you a side hug. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, dragging your attention away. Pulling it up, you frowned.
"What's with the sour puss?"
You showed him the text you just got from Brian.
From: Brian From The Coffee Shop
"Don't worry, I'll find you ;)"
"That's the queen from the shop?" she asked. You nodded. "Too bad I don't know their real names, I could have told you who she is. Sorry, boo."
You shrugged it off. "It's fine. Hopefully this isn't some scam or something, though." Another sympathetic look. You and the troupe of glamazons were all checked by the bouncer before being ushered into the club. The interior was dark, with neon lights swirling over the crowds. There was a long bar on the right wall as you entered, tables and chairs to the front and back, booths lining the walls, swathed in red velvet. Jutting from the wall on the left was the stage, lit up as a queen performed.
Heather leant down to you. "We'll be in the booth right there, if you decide to join us. Good luck babes!" You shared a brief hug before deciding to perch on a stool at the bar.
A younger man with dark hair and tattoos leant across the glass bar top to you. "What can I get you?"
Tearing your eyes away from a gorgeous queen on stage - pale, tall and skinny as anything - you smiled. "Just a jack and coke, please."
"You got it," he winked. Handing over the cash and retrieving the glass, you turned back to the queen on stage. She looked like an old Hollywood star, with long raven hair, sharp eyeliner and pouty lips. That wasn't Brian, you could tell. But you were intrigued all the same. You signalled to the bartender from before. "Hey, who's that on stage?"
He glanced up, grinning. "That is Violet Chachki. Stunner, right?"
You nodded, transfixed on her. "Totally."
Washing a glass, he watched you. "You're not exactly dressed for a drag club."
You smirked over your shoulder at him. "I'm not really the club type."
Whipping the cloth over his shoulder, he cocked an eyebrow. "So then what brings you to this cesspool of society?"
"Um, I'm waiting for a friend." He seemed to deflate some.
"You know those queens?" he asked, nodding to your friend in the booth.
"Hm? Oh yeah, I go to school with the tall pink one."
"Heather? She's been really trying to get onto the scene. Precocious, that one." You smiled, and made a mental note to bring that up to Brian.
"She really is." Violet's set finished and she collected the tips off the stage before swishing away. You found yourself engaging in conversation with this bartender, whose name you learned was Matt. As it turns out, he was a graduate of your school, so you had plenty to talk about. You entirely missed the drag queens on stage at that time, but you figured since you'd be meeting them eventually it wasn't too bad.
Matt had to go serve some increasingly drunk girls and you were left to tend to your drink. You fell into your usual daydreaming, oscillating between different ideas for your portrait. A hand landed on your shoulder, pulling you from your cloud of thought, and you turned, expecting Heather. You were instead met with bright blue eyes, the white neons from the bar lighting up the plains of her face softly. She looked like an angel, awash in pale light, making her platinum hair glow softly. Brian - or whatever his drag name was - stood beside you, smiling softly. You were in awe. You knew she'd make a pretty queen, but... Wow. Cherry lips, perfectly sculpted features and those eyes, Lord those eyes. She had red rhinestones practically dripping under her eyes, and a gorgeous red gown on.
"Привет," she offered. You weakly raised a hand in hello. Jesus, what was wrong with you? "You look like you've seen a ghost, Patrick Swayze," she crooned in that same strange voice as the other day.
Blinking yourself back to reality, you shook your head. "Right, sorry. Hi! Hey, uh, didn't recognise you for a second."
"Katya," Matt greeted. "Anything from the bar tonight?" She rolled her eyes and shook her head.
Katya? Then it clicked and you spun back to her. "This is your club?" She winked down at you.
"I did say 'my show', didn't I?"
"W-well I guess you did, I just..."
She interrupted you after looking over your outfit. "What the fuck is that, Mary? You're dressed like a librarian." Scoffing, all awe dissipating, you crossed your arms.
"I - shut up."
She laughed, shaking her head. "Seriously, my 900 year old mother dresses sexier than this."
You rolled your eyes. "900? So how old does that make you? Jesus, life was rough to you, you look older than the resin the mosquito came in."
"Excellent cinematic reference. But you're gonna have to try harder than that to hurt my feelings. I work with the most rotted whores you'll ever meet. Speaking of which, shall we?" She jabbed a thumb towards a door tucked by the stage - you assumed it led to dressing rooms. "We have a short break while the crowd gathers. We get a few of our newer queens to perform first thing and then the real show starts when the doors close. That way the audience can't escape. And believe me, with some of these bitches, you'll want to escape."
You laughed and trailed closely behind her, shooting a look to Heather, whose jaw was absolutely slack at seeing you with Katya. You gave her a small wave before you and Katya disappeared backstage.
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Привет :: 'hello'
The inspo for Heather comes from an IRL baby queen I know (different name) and the Sugar & Spice twins!