Chapter 15: A Fabulous Queen
The room was still dark when Queenie quietly opened the door, with Fred's hand laced her own.
"Angel, honey," she said softly to awaken the young boy, "Angel babe, it's time to get up."
Groaning and rolling over, Angel sat up and opened his eyes. "Jesus," he said, "What time is it?"
"It's 9 o'clock, babe. We're gonna go shopping for your outfits, remember?" she asked him.
"What outfits?" he questioned, still in a sleepy daze. Suddenly, the events of the previous day flooded back to him. Lenny, Mami, bathrooms, drag queens, clubs. Now he remembered. He forced his eyes to open wide and examine the room around him. He looked up at Queenie and Fred, remembering why he was here and who they were. "Sorry," he continued, "I was kinda confused."
"It's okay, sugar, you had a long day yesterday. We wanna leave in about a half hour, will you be ready?"
"Yeah, there's a shower I can use, right?"
"Absolutely. It's in the bathroom right over there," she directed him.
"Thanks. Yeah, I'll be ready in about a half hour."
"Perfect. Fred will cook you breakfast. He makes some killer French toast," she exclaimed, squeezing Fred's hand.
"Thank you," Angel told them, thanking them for a lot more than just the breakfast.
"Just come out when you're ready," Fred told him, leading Queenie out of the room.
"That breakfast was amazing!" Angel exclaimed, still quite full from his four helpings of French toast. Normally, he was extremely weight- conscious and he wouldn't eat more than one helping, if that. But today, he felt the need to eat himself into oblivion, which he did, enjoyably.
"I told you Freddy was amazing," Queenie said, beaming at her boyfriend. Gasping, she said, "Here we are!"
The glowing pink sign on the front of the store was difficult to miss. "DANCING QUEEN" it beamed, proudly.
"Angel, doll, you are gonna love this place! It's where I get all my clothes. Of course, I get them altered so they're a bit more original, but you'll definitely find something great here. You are going to make one fabulous queen, honey."
Gawking at her, "Excuse me? Whoa, nobody told me I had to dress in drag!" Angel exclaimed, backing away from Queenie and Fred.
Putting her arm around his shoulders, Queenie leaned in closely to him, "Sweetie, what did you think you were gonna wear? You're working at a drag club, remember?"
"But. but I've never worn drag before, I won't be very pretty. You can't make me do it," he pleaded, backing even further away from the couple.
"I don't take no for answer," Queenie brushed it off, grabbed his arm, and dragged him into the store.
The sparkling dresses and glowing wigs were blinding. Angel had never seen so many flashy clothes before in his life. Queenie's eyes lit up when they walked in, as she ran over to a rack, looking at a floor- length blue gown.
"Oh my god! Freddy this is beautiful! It would look fabulous with my black and blue wig! Oh honey. buy it for me?" she pleaded.
"Absolutely, baby. It will look lovely on you. But, we're here for Angel, let's help him look."
"Oh yes. Okay, Ang, come with me. We're gonna find Tiff and she'll help you out," Queenie said, yanking Angel's arm, and pulling towards the back of the store.
] "Tiff? Darling, where are you?" Queenie yelled into the black abyss behind the counter.
Another beautiful drag queen appeared from the darkness. She was considerably older than Queenie and Fred, but she was gorgeous. "Queenie Chan? Bless my soul, sugar, you look fabulous!" Tiff exclaimed, scampering out from behind the counter, giving Queenie a hug.
"I try, I try," she blushed, then pulled Angel from behind her. "This, my dear, is Angel Schunard."
"Well, aren't you adorable!" Tiff squealed and hugged Angel as well. "I'm Tiff, it's nice to meet you. What brings you here, sugar?"
"I, uh-"
"Tiff, honey, Angel's a bit shy. He's new to whole scene, if you get what I mean."
"Oh, well then, doll. I'll give you the quick introduction. I am famous around this fabulous city for my dresses. They are ALL my original designs, and queens from around the country have called my shop, looking for replicas of my work. Let me tell you something, I only sell them in New York City."
"New York City. It's the center of the universe, you know," Queenie chimed in.
"Right you are," Tiff replied, then continued, "Anything you could want here, I have it. I'll even custom-make something for you, if I really like ya," she said, winking in his direction.
"Honestly," Angel said, quietly, "this whole thing is a little intimidating. I mean, usually I wear more fitted clothes, but I've never dressed in drag."
"Well, baby, if you're really not comfortable," Tiff began, but was interrupted by Queenie.
"Ang, I already gave you this job. It's all part of the job description," she said, seriously. This was the closest to mad Queenie ever got.
"I guess I'll try it," he mumbled, letting himself be embraced by Queenie, who was thrilled with his decision.
"You will NOT regret it," she exclaimed, as he followed her and Tiff to a big rack of sparkly dresses.
Tiff led Angel to one of the many racks of glittering gowns. Staring into Angel's eyes, Tiff began to examine his face and body.
"Hmm," she thought out loud, "You would look lovely in red or pink. Of course," she paused, smiling in Queenie's direction, "No queen should be without the signature black dress."
"Listen," Angel cut in. "I feel kind of uncomfortable with this. I just don't think I'm made to wear dresses and wigs and everything, and -"
"Okay," interrupted Queenie, "I'll make a deal with you, Ang. You try on the dresses, wigs, makeup, the whole nine yards, and if you absolutely hate it, I won't make you wear it." Disappointed, her black, almond eyes cast down to the floor.
Feeling guilty, Angel responded, "I'll give it an honest try, I really will."
"Okay, this pink dresses is just SCREAMING your name," Tiff gushed, holding Angel around his waist, trying to get a feel for his size. "My my, you're so skinny!" she observed, then selected the floor-length pink gown off the rack and handed it to Angel.
"This is tiny!" He yelped, gawking at the pink satin mass he was holding.
"Well, you're tiny. And the dress needs to tight, you have to show off that figure. Nobody wants to be swimming in pink satin, darling," Tiff insisted. Grabbing 5 other brightly colored dresses, including a dangerously short red sequined number, from the same rack, and three others from a different rack, she thrust them into Angel's arms. Yanking him into the dressing room, she quickly closed the curtain.
"You have to show us everything, no matter what," Queenie demanded from outside the dressing room.
"Ang, come on, it can't be that bad" Queenie coaxed, trying to get Angel to come out of the tiny fitting room.
"I look so bloated! Queenie, I look horrible," he whined, examining his reflection in the mirror.
Angel had always been a rather feminine man, but he never actually considered dressing entirely in women's clothing. He liked the fitted shirts and slightly baggy, flared jeans that he usually wore. He looked so out of place in the sea of flowing pink fabric. Running his hand over his stomach, he smoothed out the wrinkles and gazed at himself in the mirror. Raising an eyebrow, he noted how nicely his creamy caramel complexion looked against the shimmering pink. Still examining himself, Angel was convinced he saw a roll of fat around his waist. Sighing, he crossed his arms over his stomach with the non-existent fat, opened the curtain, and stepped out.
Glancing nervously around, Angel approached Fred, Queenie and Tiff cautiously.
"Oh my god!" Queenie yelped and scooped up the young drag queen in her arms. "You are gorgeous!" she squealed and grabbed Angel's hand.
"I must say, Ang, I'm impressed," Fred complimented him as Angel held Queenie's hand and blushed. Fred continued, "You look good." Fred rarely dealt out compliments like that. He was shy and soft spoken, and Angel greatly appreciated his kind words.
"See honey? Look at that figure! I told you you had to show it off," Tiff gloated, examining her newest project.
"I do like the pink," Angel mumbled, letting go of Queenie's hand and examining himself, again, in the mirror. "I could get used to this."
"Good good. You're gonna have to get used to it, honey, you'll be performing everyday like this," Queenie reminded him.
"Alright, I'll do it," Angel agreed, "But I'm gonna need a lot more clothes, wigs, and makeup." He giggled at the thought of getting all dressed up and performing.
The room was still dark when Queenie quietly opened the door, with Fred's hand laced her own.
"Angel, honey," she said softly to awaken the young boy, "Angel babe, it's time to get up."
Groaning and rolling over, Angel sat up and opened his eyes. "Jesus," he said, "What time is it?"
"It's 9 o'clock, babe. We're gonna go shopping for your outfits, remember?" she asked him.
"What outfits?" he questioned, still in a sleepy daze. Suddenly, the events of the previous day flooded back to him. Lenny, Mami, bathrooms, drag queens, clubs. Now he remembered. He forced his eyes to open wide and examine the room around him. He looked up at Queenie and Fred, remembering why he was here and who they were. "Sorry," he continued, "I was kinda confused."
"It's okay, sugar, you had a long day yesterday. We wanna leave in about a half hour, will you be ready?"
"Yeah, there's a shower I can use, right?"
"Absolutely. It's in the bathroom right over there," she directed him.
"Thanks. Yeah, I'll be ready in about a half hour."
"Perfect. Fred will cook you breakfast. He makes some killer French toast," she exclaimed, squeezing Fred's hand.
"Thank you," Angel told them, thanking them for a lot more than just the breakfast.
"Just come out when you're ready," Fred told him, leading Queenie out of the room.
"That breakfast was amazing!" Angel exclaimed, still quite full from his four helpings of French toast. Normally, he was extremely weight- conscious and he wouldn't eat more than one helping, if that. But today, he felt the need to eat himself into oblivion, which he did, enjoyably.
"I told you Freddy was amazing," Queenie said, beaming at her boyfriend. Gasping, she said, "Here we are!"
The glowing pink sign on the front of the store was difficult to miss. "DANCING QUEEN" it beamed, proudly.
"Angel, doll, you are gonna love this place! It's where I get all my clothes. Of course, I get them altered so they're a bit more original, but you'll definitely find something great here. You are going to make one fabulous queen, honey."
Gawking at her, "Excuse me? Whoa, nobody told me I had to dress in drag!" Angel exclaimed, backing away from Queenie and Fred.
Putting her arm around his shoulders, Queenie leaned in closely to him, "Sweetie, what did you think you were gonna wear? You're working at a drag club, remember?"
"But. but I've never worn drag before, I won't be very pretty. You can't make me do it," he pleaded, backing even further away from the couple.
"I don't take no for answer," Queenie brushed it off, grabbed his arm, and dragged him into the store.
The sparkling dresses and glowing wigs were blinding. Angel had never seen so many flashy clothes before in his life. Queenie's eyes lit up when they walked in, as she ran over to a rack, looking at a floor- length blue gown.
"Oh my god! Freddy this is beautiful! It would look fabulous with my black and blue wig! Oh honey. buy it for me?" she pleaded.
"Absolutely, baby. It will look lovely on you. But, we're here for Angel, let's help him look."
"Oh yes. Okay, Ang, come with me. We're gonna find Tiff and she'll help you out," Queenie said, yanking Angel's arm, and pulling towards the back of the store.
] "Tiff? Darling, where are you?" Queenie yelled into the black abyss behind the counter.
Another beautiful drag queen appeared from the darkness. She was considerably older than Queenie and Fred, but she was gorgeous. "Queenie Chan? Bless my soul, sugar, you look fabulous!" Tiff exclaimed, scampering out from behind the counter, giving Queenie a hug.
"I try, I try," she blushed, then pulled Angel from behind her. "This, my dear, is Angel Schunard."
"Well, aren't you adorable!" Tiff squealed and hugged Angel as well. "I'm Tiff, it's nice to meet you. What brings you here, sugar?"
"I, uh-"
"Tiff, honey, Angel's a bit shy. He's new to whole scene, if you get what I mean."
"Oh, well then, doll. I'll give you the quick introduction. I am famous around this fabulous city for my dresses. They are ALL my original designs, and queens from around the country have called my shop, looking for replicas of my work. Let me tell you something, I only sell them in New York City."
"New York City. It's the center of the universe, you know," Queenie chimed in.
"Right you are," Tiff replied, then continued, "Anything you could want here, I have it. I'll even custom-make something for you, if I really like ya," she said, winking in his direction.
"Honestly," Angel said, quietly, "this whole thing is a little intimidating. I mean, usually I wear more fitted clothes, but I've never dressed in drag."
"Well, baby, if you're really not comfortable," Tiff began, but was interrupted by Queenie.
"Ang, I already gave you this job. It's all part of the job description," she said, seriously. This was the closest to mad Queenie ever got.
"I guess I'll try it," he mumbled, letting himself be embraced by Queenie, who was thrilled with his decision.
"You will NOT regret it," she exclaimed, as he followed her and Tiff to a big rack of sparkly dresses.
Tiff led Angel to one of the many racks of glittering gowns. Staring into Angel's eyes, Tiff began to examine his face and body.
"Hmm," she thought out loud, "You would look lovely in red or pink. Of course," she paused, smiling in Queenie's direction, "No queen should be without the signature black dress."
"Listen," Angel cut in. "I feel kind of uncomfortable with this. I just don't think I'm made to wear dresses and wigs and everything, and -"
"Okay," interrupted Queenie, "I'll make a deal with you, Ang. You try on the dresses, wigs, makeup, the whole nine yards, and if you absolutely hate it, I won't make you wear it." Disappointed, her black, almond eyes cast down to the floor.
Feeling guilty, Angel responded, "I'll give it an honest try, I really will."
"Okay, this pink dresses is just SCREAMING your name," Tiff gushed, holding Angel around his waist, trying to get a feel for his size. "My my, you're so skinny!" she observed, then selected the floor-length pink gown off the rack and handed it to Angel.
"This is tiny!" He yelped, gawking at the pink satin mass he was holding.
"Well, you're tiny. And the dress needs to tight, you have to show off that figure. Nobody wants to be swimming in pink satin, darling," Tiff insisted. Grabbing 5 other brightly colored dresses, including a dangerously short red sequined number, from the same rack, and three others from a different rack, she thrust them into Angel's arms. Yanking him into the dressing room, she quickly closed the curtain.
"You have to show us everything, no matter what," Queenie demanded from outside the dressing room.
"Ang, come on, it can't be that bad" Queenie coaxed, trying to get Angel to come out of the tiny fitting room.
"I look so bloated! Queenie, I look horrible," he whined, examining his reflection in the mirror.
Angel had always been a rather feminine man, but he never actually considered dressing entirely in women's clothing. He liked the fitted shirts and slightly baggy, flared jeans that he usually wore. He looked so out of place in the sea of flowing pink fabric. Running his hand over his stomach, he smoothed out the wrinkles and gazed at himself in the mirror. Raising an eyebrow, he noted how nicely his creamy caramel complexion looked against the shimmering pink. Still examining himself, Angel was convinced he saw a roll of fat around his waist. Sighing, he crossed his arms over his stomach with the non-existent fat, opened the curtain, and stepped out.
Glancing nervously around, Angel approached Fred, Queenie and Tiff cautiously.
"Oh my god!" Queenie yelped and scooped up the young drag queen in her arms. "You are gorgeous!" she squealed and grabbed Angel's hand.
"I must say, Ang, I'm impressed," Fred complimented him as Angel held Queenie's hand and blushed. Fred continued, "You look good." Fred rarely dealt out compliments like that. He was shy and soft spoken, and Angel greatly appreciated his kind words.
"See honey? Look at that figure! I told you you had to show it off," Tiff gloated, examining her newest project.
"I do like the pink," Angel mumbled, letting go of Queenie's hand and examining himself, again, in the mirror. "I could get used to this."
"Good good. You're gonna have to get used to it, honey, you'll be performing everyday like this," Queenie reminded him.
"Alright, I'll do it," Angel agreed, "But I'm gonna need a lot more clothes, wigs, and makeup." He giggled at the thought of getting all dressed up and performing.