Disclaimer: I do not own Daria, nor do I expect to make any profit out of this piece of fan fiction.


Jesse had laughed at Max when the latter had proposed that the band should show up for their gig dressed in drag. It made sense since they would be playing at The Zon's Halloween party, but far be it from Jesse to give up his usual leather outfit for a dress. What would the ladies think of him?

Nevertheless, he had complied and, when the day came, he'd bought a cheap pink tutu.

When Max stopped by Jesse's house in the Tank to pick him up, Jesse was wearing his usual black leather vest and pants with the addition of the tutu on his hips. Max and Nick laughed openly at him as he entered the van. He tried to ignore them, pissed that they made him wear that silly skirt.

They were ridiculous enough themselves. Nick was wearing an old T-shirt -ripped to expose his hairy belly- and a tight pair of jeans. Max had on a long dress, pantyhose with several runs on them and a blonde wig. Both wore black eyeliner and red lipstick and had stuffed their shirt and dress respectively with paper towels to resemble breasts.

"Where's Trent?", Jesse asked once his bandmates stopped laughing. Max should have picked him up before Jesse, according to his usual route.

"He said he'd meet us there.", Nick replied.

"Cool.", Jesse gave his standard answer.


After the three men unloaded The Tank, they went straight for the Zon's so-called 'changing room'. It was actually a restroom that they reserved for the artists that played their stage.

Trent was already there. Jesse stopped short when he saw him. The frontman was wearing a skimpy black mini-dress -Borrowed from Jane, no doubt, Jesse thought-, black opaque stockings and a pair of red high heels. On his head sat a cheap black wig and the outfit was completed by a red feather boa to match the shoes. On top of it all, he was smoking his cigarette out of a plastic cigarette holder.

Nick and Max cracked up at the sight, almost hyperventilating by the excessive laughter. But Jesse paid no attention to them. He couldn't pay attention to them -not in the presence of his best friend in a dress- because Trent looked simply stunning. His lipstick contrasted with the tuft of hair beneath his lower lip, but other than that he was perfect. Even the fake breasts-rubber Halloween props- didn't seem to put Jesse off.

Trent smiled at his bandmates' reaction. "I told you I had something special prepared.", he told them and started chuckling along with them until the chuckle gave way to a soft cough, accentuated by puffs of smoke escaping his shiny red lips.

"Alright." Trent stood up. "Let's do this thing.", he said and prodded the others out of the dressing room.

As Trent led them to the stage, Jesse could not help but observe him: the way he struggled to walk on the heels, the antithesis of the tattoos with his overall look, the feather boa being dragged on the floor and collecting a couple of dust bunnies. He had never been so fascinated by anyone before. No girl had ever had this effect on him. Then and there, he realized that he had fallen in love with his best friend.

The usually homophobic Jesse grew nervous at the thought. No, not my best friend, he tried to reassure himself. Just my best friend in drag.

Before Jesse could realize it, they had reached the stage. Many people had started cheering at the sight of Trent in a dress. Among them was Trent's sister who cupped her mouth and urged them on: "Let's hear it for my big sister, everyone!" Her bespectacled friend was just staring incredulously at him and was dressed in an uncharecteristic tiny pink T-shirt and bootcut blue jeans. Jane was wearing a light green dress under a baby blue bolero jacket.

Meanwhile, Trent walked to the microphone and started the show with: "Don't worry, ladies. We're still available."


The next day proved to be cathartic for Jesse.

He'd spend the better part of the morning debating whether he should pay Trent a visit. He wanted to see him again, to confirm that what he had felt last night was not merely a passing fancy.

After long deliberation, which had strained Jesse's few brain cells, he had decided to call him. Jesse's heart was racing throughout the awkward phonecall, but in the end Trent had casually agreed to meet him for pizza.

Jesse wondered if it would be like a date and debated whether he should wear something special. Settling for his usual leather ensemble, he set out to meet Trent at Pizza King.

When he entered the restaurant he saw Trent's figure slumping in a stall. He broke out in a cold sweat. After a few seconds and gulps he mustered the courage to face him.

He took a seat on the other side of the stall. For some seconds he kept his eyes to himself. Then he braved a glance at Trent.

He was happy to discover that the sight of his friend did nothing for him. Nothing like the erection he had gotten the night before, while making out with a girl and ogling at Trent instead.

Relieved, he was the first to talk. "Hey, man. You're early." He had been expecting Trent to be at least one hour late, so he'd come 45 minutes later than they had agreed.

Trent shrugged. "I arrived some minutes ago. "

They carried on their conversation as lazily as ever.

Everything was back to normal in Jesse's world.

Except for the fact that he suspected that the only girl he'd ever love was Trent Lane in drag.


A/N: This story was inspired by the Trent-in-a-dress alter ego and the Magnetic Fields song 'Andrew In Drag' (please don't sue me, Mr. Merritt-I love you!).