I should be studying right now. Instead, I'm going to guiltily write this, accepting that I'm going to fail my summer exams. Oh well.
So, this is loosely based on a true story. My LGBT group did drag last week, and it was fabulous. And then I started thinking about Poland, and this was born.
And finally, I apologise if Toris is autocorrected to Doris. You know what I mean.
Toris was early. He sat on his seat, playing with his fingers. He wondered if he should get out his phone – it would be something to do – but he wanted to save the already-low battery. There was currently two other people in the room, if you didn't count Roma, who ran the group. Toris didn't. The other teens, who looked about his age, were sitting on one of the couches, both engrossed in their phones. Toris looked around the room. There were some paintings hung on the walls, and some shelves with books and DVDs. Couches and chairs were arranged in a vague circle.
The door opened. Two more boys entered, one with slicked-back blonde hair and one with messy auburn curls. The auburn-haired one waved at Toris, face breaking into a grin. "Hello! Are you new?" Toris nodded. "Cool! I'm Feliciano and this is Ludwig." The blonde offered him a half-smile before sitting down across from him. Feliciano continued to talk. "It's really fun here, we do loads of stuff! And there's free biscuits!" Toris nodded again. Feliciano sat down beside Ludwig. "What's your name?"
"Toris." It was barely more than a whisper.
"Doris?"
"No, Toris. It has a T." He was blushing, he was sure of it. For the hundredth time he wished he wasn't so shy. He pulled his phone from his bag to avoid talking any more. He would just shut it down later to save the battery.
More people trickled in as it got closer to six. The oldest looked maybe twenty, the youngest fourteen or fifteen. And they all seemed to know each other, exchanging greetings and stories. All of which made it more difficult for Toris. He felt so... Conspicuous. He was the only one without at least two friends.His phone was on ten percent battery now, which only furthered his anxiety.
Roma cleared his throat. "Hello, guys. So, we were doing drag this week, sí?" There was a mixture of nods, groans and giggles. Roma grinned. "Great. Now, who will do the makeup?" A few people raised their hands tentatively. "People getting the makeup done sit here." He gestured to the couch at the far end of the room. "Anybody not doing makeup will be getting the makeup done on them." More hands went up to volunteer as makeup artists. Toris thought it over. He didn't have a clue about makeup, but then again this was drag, not a recreation of the Mona Lisa. Then it occurred to him that doing somebody's makeup would require talking to them, and the decision was made. He took a seat on what was apparently the drag queen (or king) side of the room.
A blonde boy strode over to him. Toris stared at the rug. "Uhh. Hi."
The boy smiled. He looked just as shy as Toris, actually. That was reassuring. "Hey, I'm Feliks. Can I, like, do your makeup?" Toris noticed he was wearing lipgloss and decided he was in safe hands. He nodded, also noticing that he was quite attractive. And he had a cute accent.
"Sure. I'm Toris. By the way."
Feliks nodded, grabbing a bag and a chair. He emptied the contents of the bag onto the chair. Toris was pretty sure there was half a pharmacy's worth of makeup in that bag. He couldn't identify one thing, which was a little intimidating.
He spent the next half hour either with his eyes shut or staring at Feliks. It wasn't as creepy as it sounded. Their faces were so close together it wasn't as if he had anywhere else to look. He could see a girl with long brown hair and a pink flower hairclip doing Feliciano's makeup on his right, if he strained his eyes sideways. By the sound of it, Feliciano wasn't cooperating. The girl kept telling him to stay still or she'd poke him with the mascara brush. A loud wail signalled she'd done just that a few seconds afterwards.
Feliks stayed almost totally quiet at first. Then, as time went on, he got slightly more sociable, then he wouldn't shut up. Not that Toris minded in the slightest. He would tell Toris what he was doing to his face, which was a little useless, seeing as Toris had no idea what anything was. When he wasn't doing that he was telling him about the group, which turned into gossip about everyone. Who they were, how old they were, were they in a relationship, where they were from. Toris probably knew the others better than they knew themselves by the time Feliks had managed to remove everything from his bag.
Toris was actually disappointed when Feliks stepped back, announcing he was done. It was almost relaxing sitting there, listening to Feliks's chatter, feeling the weird but not unpleasant sensations of powders and paints being applied to his face. Feliks himself was the main reason Toris had enjoyed it though. He was trying not to admit to himself that he liked him.
He was snapped out of his thoughts by Feliks handing him a mirror. Toris nervously looked at his reflection.
It wasn't what he had expected. He wasn't sure what he did expect, but it wasn't this. He looked like a different person. His skin was much too bronze, his lips were painted a dark purple, his eyebrows had been outlined in dark pencil and were twice as thick as usual, and his eyelids were gold and blue. He blinked, not sure what to say. He giggled uncertainly, which quickly turned into a full-on fit of laughter. He was aware of Feliks joining in, leaning against Toris's shoulder. "Like, oh my god. You look totally ridiculous. I have to take a picture. You mind?" Toris shook his head.
Feliks pressed his face against Toris's as he took a selfie. He was glad the makeup hid the fact he was blushing.
More photos were taken. Toris was glad to find that he was not the most ridiculous-looking. That went to Ludwig, who was unlucky enough to have had Roma as a makeup artist. Toris made a mental note to not let that happen to him, if or when they next did this.
After everyone had taken enough photos and made enough jokes, Toris and the others washed their faces, which took a while. He managed to start a conversation with a friendly Finnish boy called Tino, which was an achievement.
There were still a few minutes left until the group disbanded, so Toris uneasily sat down beside Feliks. "Hey."
Feliks grinned. "Hey. So, like, what did you think?"
"It was fun."
"Yeah. Hey, you should totally do me next time." Toris shook his head.
"Never. I can't do makeup."
"That's totally the whole point."
"I still won't." Toris fiddled with the keyring on his bag. He wondered if he should ask Feliks for his number. Would he take that as flirting? Would it be flirting? They'd known each other for only an hour and a half, after all.
"Uhhhm, Feliks? C-could I have your number?"
"Do you want, like, makeup tips? I could totally help."
Toris laughed, unsure how to respond. Feliks, meanwhile, rummaged in his bag, coming up with a pen. "Mind if I just, like, write on your hand? Can't be bothered to get paper."
"No. I mean, you can. It's fine."
Toris did his best to stay clam when Feliks grabbed his wrist, scrawling a number, before launching into some story. Toris sat back, eager to listen.
So maybe the group wasn't what he expected. But on the upside, he had a cute boy's number, and it had actually been fun.
He looked forward to next week.
Yes, alright, the ending was lame. Sorry.
And let me know if you want me to continue this. There were a lot of backstories and appearances I had planned for characters that didn't even make it in here (China and England, for example). Heck, I didn't even do Toris's backstory.
The more I think about it, the more I need to continue it. But only with good feedback will I do that, so leave a review. Please.