Riff Raff dragged himself back to his room, even more disgusted than usual with his job. It was *always* boring and physically exhausting, but this entire week had been a nightmare. The head gardener was frantic to have everything perfect in preparation for the Prince's gala birthday celebration, and he'd been driving his crew with relentless ruthlessness. Fortunately tonight was "the big night" - Riff Raff sneered to himself at the notion - so hopefully by tomorrow the job would go from intolerable back to merely unpleasant.
Just as he was about to open his door, Rocky emerged from his own room, resplendent in a black tuxedo with blue lapels and a blue shirt that exactly matched his eyes. Having long ago sensed Riff Raff's resentment, he looked at Riff now somewhat uncomfortably.
"Hello, Riff Raff."
Riff Raff looked at Rocky with barely disguised animosity. "Well, hello, Rocky. Aren't you dressed up this evening. Why would a mere *servant* be wearing a tuxedo tonight, of all nights?"
Rocky refused to be baited. "His Highness was kind enough to invite me to his birthday celebration."
"My, my. The `services' you provide him must be of the *highest* caliber."
In a remarkably even tone of voice, Rocky replied, "I feel very honored that His Highness considers me a friend, as well as an employee. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to help him get ready."
Leaving the irate Riff Raff behind, Rocky hurried toward Frank's quarters. He was never comfortable dealing with Riff Raff, and tonight's interaction had been particularly disturbing. He had the distinct impression Riff Raff's hostility was reaching a dangerous level, although what Riff might do to act on it, he had no idea. Should he mention it to Frank?
Well, certainly not tonight, at any rate. When he walked into Frank's bedroom, he witnessed something he'd never seen before...Frank in a state of intense anxiety. Before sitting Frank down to do his makeup, Rocky tried to reassure him.
"Frank, you'll be walking into a room full of people ready to adore you. What possible reason can you have to be nervous?"
Frank sighed. "I suppose I'm afraid that I won't live up to everyone's expectations. What if I walk into that room and everyone is completely unimpressed...or, worse, highly amused?" He paused, then laughed wryly. "Admittedly the possibility that I'll trip over these damn shoes when I make my grand entrance has also crossed my mind."
Rocky shook his head gently. "I really don't think you have to worry about tripping. I've seen you walk in those shoes, and you do it beautifully." He smiled suggestively. "*Very* beautifully."
Frank laughed, as Rocky had hoped he would. "Thank you for the reassurance."
Rocky bowed slightly. "You're very welcome. Now sit down and let me do your makeup. I promise, you don't have a thing to worry about. You'll create a sensation, in the very best sense of the word."
He did.
When Frank walked into the grand ballroom with Madria on his arm, black cape billowing, the huge crowd stared in stunned silence for a moment. Then, as if on cue, the room erupted in a frenzy of cheers, whistles and camera flashes. When Frank whipped off the cape in preparation for his solo dance with Madria, the furor intensified even further. Rocky had been absolutely correct. Frank had the power.
Rocky himself stood in the back of the room, beaming with pride over the effect Frank was having on the assemblage. Mixed with his pride, however, was more than a tinge of sadness. Watching Frank dance with Madria, he longed with all his heart to be the one in Frank's arms, rather than the beautiful young woman. The knowledge that Frank wanted the same thing was no solace. He realized that no matter how much Frank loved him, he could never be acknowledged publicly as Frank's partner. Someday he would again be standing in the back of this very room, watching Frank dance with his bride. The idea was like a knife through his heart.
He was still standing in the same spot, lost in his thoughts, when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Startled, he looked up to see Frank standing next to him.
"You're being quite the wallflower. Why don't you get out there and enjoy the party?"
Rocky forced himself to smile. "This is much more your crowd than mine, Frank. I don't fit in here. I'm a servant, not nobility."
Frank's expression darkened. "You know I don't think of you as a servant."
"I know that. But certainly everyone else here would think of me that way."
Frank stared at him, then grabbed the arm of a lovely young woman who was passing by on her way to the bar. "Leni, do you have a moment?"
She smiled broadly. "Of course, Frank. What is it?"
He gestured toward Rocky. "Leni, this is Rocky. Rocky is a friend of mine from out of town, and I'm afraid he doesn't know anyone here. Unfortunately I'm not able to take the time to introduce him around. Would you mind doing that for me?"
"No, of course not. Come with me, Rocky. I'll make sure you have a good time."
As Leni led him off, Rocky turned around and rolled his eyes at Frank, making him laugh. Despite the eye roll, he was genuinely touched by Frank's gesture. Tonight was a major turning point in Frank's life, but he'd still made sure to take care of Rocky. The thought made him smile. It seemed that practically everyone on Transsexual loved Frank. How fortunate was he that he was one of the very few able to say the feeling was reciprocated?
Just as he was about to open his door, Rocky emerged from his own room, resplendent in a black tuxedo with blue lapels and a blue shirt that exactly matched his eyes. Having long ago sensed Riff Raff's resentment, he looked at Riff now somewhat uncomfortably.
"Hello, Riff Raff."
Riff Raff looked at Rocky with barely disguised animosity. "Well, hello, Rocky. Aren't you dressed up this evening. Why would a mere *servant* be wearing a tuxedo tonight, of all nights?"
Rocky refused to be baited. "His Highness was kind enough to invite me to his birthday celebration."
"My, my. The `services' you provide him must be of the *highest* caliber."
In a remarkably even tone of voice, Rocky replied, "I feel very honored that His Highness considers me a friend, as well as an employee. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to help him get ready."
Leaving the irate Riff Raff behind, Rocky hurried toward Frank's quarters. He was never comfortable dealing with Riff Raff, and tonight's interaction had been particularly disturbing. He had the distinct impression Riff Raff's hostility was reaching a dangerous level, although what Riff might do to act on it, he had no idea. Should he mention it to Frank?
Well, certainly not tonight, at any rate. When he walked into Frank's bedroom, he witnessed something he'd never seen before...Frank in a state of intense anxiety. Before sitting Frank down to do his makeup, Rocky tried to reassure him.
"Frank, you'll be walking into a room full of people ready to adore you. What possible reason can you have to be nervous?"
Frank sighed. "I suppose I'm afraid that I won't live up to everyone's expectations. What if I walk into that room and everyone is completely unimpressed...or, worse, highly amused?" He paused, then laughed wryly. "Admittedly the possibility that I'll trip over these damn shoes when I make my grand entrance has also crossed my mind."
Rocky shook his head gently. "I really don't think you have to worry about tripping. I've seen you walk in those shoes, and you do it beautifully." He smiled suggestively. "*Very* beautifully."
Frank laughed, as Rocky had hoped he would. "Thank you for the reassurance."
Rocky bowed slightly. "You're very welcome. Now sit down and let me do your makeup. I promise, you don't have a thing to worry about. You'll create a sensation, in the very best sense of the word."
He did.
When Frank walked into the grand ballroom with Madria on his arm, black cape billowing, the huge crowd stared in stunned silence for a moment. Then, as if on cue, the room erupted in a frenzy of cheers, whistles and camera flashes. When Frank whipped off the cape in preparation for his solo dance with Madria, the furor intensified even further. Rocky had been absolutely correct. Frank had the power.
Rocky himself stood in the back of the room, beaming with pride over the effect Frank was having on the assemblage. Mixed with his pride, however, was more than a tinge of sadness. Watching Frank dance with Madria, he longed with all his heart to be the one in Frank's arms, rather than the beautiful young woman. The knowledge that Frank wanted the same thing was no solace. He realized that no matter how much Frank loved him, he could never be acknowledged publicly as Frank's partner. Someday he would again be standing in the back of this very room, watching Frank dance with his bride. The idea was like a knife through his heart.
He was still standing in the same spot, lost in his thoughts, when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Startled, he looked up to see Frank standing next to him.
"You're being quite the wallflower. Why don't you get out there and enjoy the party?"
Rocky forced himself to smile. "This is much more your crowd than mine, Frank. I don't fit in here. I'm a servant, not nobility."
Frank's expression darkened. "You know I don't think of you as a servant."
"I know that. But certainly everyone else here would think of me that way."
Frank stared at him, then grabbed the arm of a lovely young woman who was passing by on her way to the bar. "Leni, do you have a moment?"
She smiled broadly. "Of course, Frank. What is it?"
He gestured toward Rocky. "Leni, this is Rocky. Rocky is a friend of mine from out of town, and I'm afraid he doesn't know anyone here. Unfortunately I'm not able to take the time to introduce him around. Would you mind doing that for me?"
"No, of course not. Come with me, Rocky. I'll make sure you have a good time."
As Leni led him off, Rocky turned around and rolled his eyes at Frank, making him laugh. Despite the eye roll, he was genuinely touched by Frank's gesture. Tonight was a major turning point in Frank's life, but he'd still made sure to take care of Rocky. The thought made him smile. It seemed that practically everyone on Transsexual loved Frank. How fortunate was he that he was one of the very few able to say the feeling was reciprocated?