Chapter 17: Time Flies, Love Dies
"That was fun, Angel. You're good," the drag queen said to him, winking in his direction. Pulling crisp bills out of her wallet, she thrust the generous sum into his small hands. "Nice work. We'll do this again."
"Thanks," Angel mumbled, attempting to be polite. Rushing out of the run-down East Village apartment, he began his walk back to the club, as he had so many nights before. He hated this walk more than anything. There were others, just like himself, returning from a busy night with bills shoved in their pockets or crumpled in their hands. These wee hours of the morning were when the junkies re-surfaced, looking for more smack to fulfill their addictions. Angel knew he wasn't one of these people. He wasn't some crack head, nymphomaniac prostitute, he just needed money. He barely made tips at the club, and the only time he did would be when he did a bit of a strip-tease during his performance. He needed to make extra money to buy new clothes, and possibly find his own place. Queenie and Fred didn't mind having him there, but he knew it was a burden for him to live in their house.
This was always the worst time of day, though. Queenie would look at him, disapprovingly. She'd n ever say anything, but he knew that she was upset about him. She treated him like a little brother, even a son sometimes, and to see somebody who she cared so deeply about selling his body broke her heart. He saw it in her eyes. It destroyed her, broke up her up into a thousand pieces. Angel hated to hurt her that way.
He walked around the back of the graffiti-ridden brick building and opened the steel door in the back. The mirror beckoned to him as he checked his reflection. As usual, he looked like hell after a night of submissive intimacy. His clothes were wrinkled from lying on the floor all night, his wig out of place with random strands of hair sticking out every which way, and his normally-perfect makeup smudged and faded, revealing large black circles under his tired eyes. His feet ached from walking so far in the heels he was wearing, and his entire body ached from night after night of prostituting.
Sighing, he proceeded down the halls to his dressing room, hoping to get in just before Queenie saw him. As he opened the door to his room, he found the lights on, and Queenie sitting on Angel's "bed", the ocean-blue fuzzy couch.
"Hi," he greeted, embarrassed for her to see him this way.
"Hi baby," she greeted, her voice sounding winded and tired, and nowhere near as cheerful as usual. "Angel, honey -"
"No," he cut her off, "I don't want to hear it. I know what I'm doing is wrong, or whatever, but I need the money. I need more clothes and stuff, and I can't expect you to pay for everything." He was doing his best not to cry. She looked old for the first time since he'd met her.
"I just worry about you, Ang. There's been so much going on, and Freddie and I don't even get to see you anymore. Everything's just been so crazy, and. I don't know, babe, I miss you," she said, sitting slightly hunched over on the vibrant blue couch. Her red, Asian-patterned kimono dress came well above her knees, revealing black fishnet stockings and shiny, patent-leather platform heels. Her makeup made her almond shaped eyes look even more slanted, her red lips sparkling under the dingy lighting.
"Queenie, I'm so so sorry. I know what a bitch it is for you guys to have me here, and I'm just trying to get some extra cash so I'll be out of your way as soon as possible."
"Don't you say that," she scolded, but smiled her brilliant smile and held his hand, "We love having you here. If anything, all you've done is help us, I mean, with Freddie... well, never mind that." She cut off her own sentence and stared down at the ground.
"With Freddie what? Queenie, what's wrong?" He asked in all seriousness, staring compassionately into her eyes.
"Hon, I don't think now is quite the time to tell you," she trailed off, her eyes darting everywhere except on to Angel.
"No, tell me. Something is wrong. You've always been a bad liar," he said, attempting to ease it out of her.
"Okay." she sighed and paused, "Don't say anything to Freddie yet. He didn't even want to tell me but. Baby, Freddie has HIV. He got tested a week ago, and I'm still waiting for the results of my test." Queenie looked so unbelievably calm, while Angel stood next to her, squeezing her hand in total shock.
"How?" he choked out.
"I don't know. There's still a possibility that I don't have it, because we've been safe, but accidents happen, you know? He's had a lot of other partners before me. He was just feeling a little funny, and he has a history of iron deficiency, so we thought he should get tested. His iron is fine. His T-Cells aren't." She held Angel's hand, consoling him, when Angel knew he should be the one comforting her.
"Oh god," he whispered, as tears freely flowed down his face, ruining his makeup even further. "Can he take anything?"
"There's AZT, but the best thing we can give him is no medicine, baby, it's support. We need to stand by him, be his life support, you know?" she said, smiling a sad grin at him.
"How can you be so calm? He's gonna die!" Angel screamed at her, fearing the loss of his only real father figure.
"It's the only way to be. We're all gonna die eventually, baby," Queenie said, trying to maintain her optimism.
"Just - just stop it! You might die too, then who will I have? Where will I go?" he yelled in her face, then began sobbing.
"Honey, I'm not going anywhere yet, and neither is Freddie. Just enjoy what we have now. We'll worry later," she consoled, holding the distraught, young boy to her chest, stroking his wig and hugging him tightly. Angel couldn't speak between his shaking sobs.
After what seemed like hours, Angel finally calmed down enough to speak rationally. "I'm scared to lose both of you. I don't have anybody else, and I need you guys. Both of you."
"I know, I know. You don't need to worry now, though. We'll just enjoy the present, and see what happens in the future," she reassured him, standing up and brushing off her dress. "Well, we should get something to eat, and start cleaning the club. It's a Saturday, you know, so we've got lots to do."
Wiping his makeup-ridden tears off his face, Angel hugged Queenie one more time. "I love you."
"Love you too, Ang," she smiled and kissed him on the forehead.
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As usual, the Saturday crowd was whistling and cheering as the various performers did their acts. Angel was the last performer of the night, and then the DJ would be spinning some techno music. Usually, Angel would rile up the crowd with his show-stopping rendition of It's Raining Men, but tonight, he wanted to sing a new song. He was in a sad and depressive mood, after finding out about Freddie that morning. He wasn't quite up to singing his song and doing his usual seductive dance. Tonight would be dedicated to Freddie and Queenie and the love he felt for them. People by Barbara Streisand seemed fitting tonight. Not to mention the fact that Angel was well-aware that many of the club-goers had a fixation with Barbara. She was an icon in the male gay community.
"People who need people, are the luckiest people, in the world," he sang sweetly as the music faded out. Rather than getting loud cheers and hoots from the crowd, he received heart-felt applause, as if the entire audience knew of Freddie's HIV, and they all loved him as deeply as Angel did. He took a bow, the long fabric of his black and white satin gown crinkling as he did so. Tonight was no night for flashy sequin and glitter skirts with skimpy belly tops. It was a somber night, which called for an elegant, floor-length black satin gown, with a flowing white insert in the back. His long, blonde wig looked brilliantly vibrant against the soft, dark material. Angel's makeup was understated as well: not so bright and gaudy tonight. His lips were a shiny, pale pink, his eyes rimmed with thin, black lines highlighted with shimmer silver-white eye shadow. Even his shoes were modest: not the 4 ½ inch "porn star" shoes he usually wore. He had selected skimpy, strappy sandals with a much lower heel. Before he had gone out to perform, Queenie told him how radiant he looked. At times, he would feel awkward and out of place in drag, but not tonight. He walked on and performed feeling beautiful and graceful, as a train of satin following eagerly behind him.
After he had performed, Angel walked briskly out the backstage curtain, dying for something to drink from the bar. His throat was burning with thirst, especially after his beautiful rendition of People. As per usual, men swarmed around the young performer, still decked out in the fabulous black gown.
"That was beautiful, Ang. I've never heard a Barbara song covered like that. You did the woman justice," a young man said to Angel, placing his hand delicately on the drag queen's shoulder.
"Thank you," Angel managed to choke out from his parched throat, still weaving his way through the masses to get to the bar.
"Coke comin' right up, baby," Enrico told him, mastering his usual order of a coke with no ice and a lemon wedge. After the performance segment of the night, the bar usually cleared out, leaving only a few stragglers left.
Sighing and crossing his thin legs, Angel looked to his left and noticed three queens, club regulars, talking and laughing over a round of margaritas. Angel was never tempted to drink, but the frigid liquid of the margarita made him want to rip it out of Jackie's hand and down it himself. Resisting the urge, he turned his head to the right, seeing only one lonely man sitting two seats away from him. The man was good looking, a real hottie, by Angel's standards. He was wearing a fitted, ribbed white tank top to combat the early June heat. The pronounced muscles of his arms stood out even more against the thin, white straps of the shirt. His baggy deep-blue jeans covered the tops of the tan, Timberland work boots. The curls of his closely-cut hair wrapped around each other in a black, gelled mass. It was obvious the man was alone, with that forlorn expression he had in his eyes as he absently stirred whatever he was drinking.
Feeling a wave of sympathy come over him, Angel scooted two seats over with the large mug of coke. The man looked oddly familiar, as Angel noticed when he saw him up close.
Clearing his throat, he began, "Hi. You know, you look really familiar. My name's Angel," he smiled and held out his hand for a shake.
"You look familiar t -," he stopped abruptly, the kind brown eyes bugging out of his head, "Angel?"
The deep voice caught Angel off-guard when he finally recognized the mystery man. "Lenny?!"
Angel's mouth hung open. He was paralyzed with shock for the second time that day. Of course it was Lenny. The tan muscles, black hair, and deep brown eyes should have given it away. It had only been two months since they'd last seen each other. One would think that such a beautiful face would have lingered longer in his mind, and he would have recognized the former lover right away.
"Oh my god, I can't believe you're here! I thought you'd be away for, well." Angel trailed off, not quite knowing what to say, or how to say it.
"Yeah, I thought I'd be gone year-round too. The school gets out June first every year, so I was only there for under two months. It's hell, though. I was glad to get out," he explained, as the stirring of his drink quickened.
"Well, I'm, uh, glad you're here. I. I really missed you, Lenny," he admitted, watching Lenny stir the drink intensely.
"I didn't expect you to be here," Lenny said, rapidly changing the subject to rid his eyes of the hurt he was feeling.
"That day. yeah, I went to go see Mami, and I guess Papi attacked her, or something, and he hurt her real bad and she." Angel trailed off, trying with all his might to keep the tears inside. The damn threatened to burst every time he thought about Mami.
"Ang, I'm sorry. That's awful," Lenny said, sincerely, lightly taking hold of Angel's hand as he did so many times before.
"It's okay. But I came here to find the shelter, and then I really needed a bathroom. Like, I was about to burst!" he giggled, "So I wandered into this club, bumped into the owner, Queenie, told her my story about you and Mami, and she insisted I live here. She wouldn't take no for an answer. So, as payment, I perform."
"You were great. You look beautiful," Lenny admitted, blushing and abruptly stopping the stirring of his drink.
"Thank you," Angel smiled, and blushed along with him. Changing the subject, "Oh, you have to meet Queenie. I've told her all about you!" he gushed and grabbed Lenny's hand, pulling him up off the stool, and dragging him backstage.
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"Queenie?" Angel asked the empty rooms backstage. "Babe, I have to introduce you to someone!"
"Ang? Come here honey!" Queenie called from her dressing room.
Scampering in with his hand entwined with Lenny's, Angel greeted Queenie with a big smile. "This is the fabulous Lenny Costales I've told you so much about."
"Oh my god!" she squealed and lept up off her glowing orange chair to greet him. "I'm Queenie. I don't know if Angel told you, but I own this club with my wonderful partner in crime, Frederico," she recited the introduction and pointed to Fred, who was sitting quietly on a highlighter- yellow bean bag chair.
"Um, nice to meet you," Lenny said, in a state of culture-shock. Seeing Angel in drag was one thing. He'd seen that a few times before, mostly for dares or humor, but still. Being surrounded by drag queens was entirely different.
"You two run along now," Queenie insisted after a minute of silence, as she proceeded to shoo Angel and Lenny out of her room. "You have a lot of catching up to do, and I will NOT interfere."
"But -," Angel began.
Queenie, waving her hand in front of Angel's face, "No 'buts', honey. OUT!" She demanded, closing her eyes and dramatically pointing outside to the hallway.
"Nice to meet you," Lenny said, as Angel yanked his arm and dragged him outside to the streets.
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The alleys of the East Village were surprisingly warm on the late- spring, June evening. Unsure of how to act towards Lenny, Angel awkwardly walked next to him, afraid to touch any part of his body.
"It's nice here. Completely different from the Park," Lenny said, as the two strolled along.
"Yeah, I like it. And it's -. shit, never mind," Angel said, afraid to finish the sentence.
Sighing, Lenny glanced down at Angel's hand, looking at the glittering bracelet he was wearing. It matched so well with the black and white gown. Boldly, he grabbed the slender hand, then looked into the loving amber-hazel eyes. "I've really missed you, Ang. It's hell there. They all call each other 'faggot' and 'cock-sucker' and I can't stand it."
"Oh, baby." Angel spoke softly, unsure of how to react. His heart was thawing by the touch of Lenny's hand. "How long are you here for?"
"Till August 21st, I think. Then, we have hell-week, then it's back to regular training and classes."
"Sounds awful. So you're here for a while then?" Angel questioned, awkwardly.
"Yeah," he trailed off.
"So maybe we can, you know -," Angel began.
"I don't think so. I loved you, Ang, but. I'm not in love with you anymore," Lenny stated, still holding Angel's small hand, looking down at the crumbling concrete.
"But we don't have to do anything. it can just be as friends, babe," Angel tried to persuade him.
"Don't call me 'babe'," Lenny mumbled, "and I think it's better off this way. Look at you, Ang. You've changed. A lot."
"C'mon, you always knew I'd do this someday. Remember when I wore that leather skirt? With the chains? You loved me in that! This is my calling!" he giggled, searching for Lenny to share the joke with him.
Managing a sad smile, Lenny responded, "This isn't funny. There's something about you that's different. The second I held your hand I felt it. I could see it in your eyes." His voice was getting increasingly louder.
"What do you mean?" he asked, puzzled.
"It's like," he sighed, "It's like all the love's died inside you, or something. Like sex and love mean nothing to you."
"Listen, just because I have to make a living doesn't mean I -,"
"What?" he cut in, asking in a loud, enraged voice, "What do you mean 'make a living'? Angel, are you a -?" He stopped, unable to finish the thought.
Angel just looked to the concrete, seeking solace in its crumbling surface.
"You're too good for that," he snapped.
"It's not like you think, but a lot's changed in these past two months, you're right. And it's not like love doesn't mean anything anymore. When I'm with those guys, it's just for the money, I don't even think about what's going on!" Angel yelled as well. Lenny had never heard him yell this way before; it startled him.
"You're numb," Lenny mumbled back.
"And every fucking time I'm with anyone, all I can think of is how much I miss you. and I how much I wish it was you was with, instead of some sex-starved stranger!" Angel exclaimed, feeling the damn about to burst, angry tears flowing freely.
"You know what, Ang? I missed you too. but I can't keep thinking like that anymore. What we had was amazing, and I wouldn't trade any of it for the world. I almost wish I hadn't seen you now, so our memories would have been that much sweeter. But maybe it was supposed to be this way, because I can't keep sitting in my shitty little hole-in-the-wall bedroom at fucking boot camp waiting for you and me to happen again. I can't keep waiting for you to save me from the ignorant homophobes. We're over, and that's the way it is. That's the way it'll always be."
"I don't want us to end this way," Angel said quietly.
"Time flies without you, Ang. And love dies," he said bitterly, "Goodbye, my Angel."
And, with that, he left. Angel watched the receding form of his former lover shrink as he walked slowly down the street. He watched until Lenny was nothing more than a vanishing white dot against the city landscape, until he had disappeared completely. This time, he would not cry.
"Goodbye love," he whispered, just as he had that April day when he had left Lenny for the first time. The howling winds in the alleys elicited no reply.
Glancing at the had that was held just moments ago, he spun slowly around on his heels and stumbled back to the club.
This time, he wouldn't cry, because Lenny was right. Love does die. No matter what had happened, or would happen, Angel and Lenny were over. The love between them had died with each passing day. This way, the memories were more sweet.
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The club was virtually empty as Angel walked in. There were a few people cleaning up the floor, Timmy was locking up the doors, and Enrico was closing the bar. He'd never been around when they were closing up the club for the night. It had a completely different vibe than it did when people were there. It didn't seem so sleazy.
Queenie and Fred were nowhere to be found. Eager to tell Queenie about the encounter with Lenny, he briskly walked backstage to the dressing rooms.
Sure enough, Queenie was in her room, still wearing her beautiful kimono dress, sitting on Fred's lap and stroking his hair. Fred's eyes looked tired and empty as he clutched Queenie around the waist.
"Hey," Angel chirped as he walked into the room.
"Hi," they chorused, Queenie kissing Fred and standing up.
"Someone sounds cheerful. OH, how's everything with Lenny? Are you two a -," Queenie asked, winking at him and smiling a mischievous grin.
"No, not even close," Angel said, as the smile from Queenie's face faded instantly.
"What happened?" Fred asked in a deep, tired voice.
"We're over, I guess that's it. You know, I thought I'd die without him. And every time I was with some random stranger, all I'd think of was Lenny. When I was, ya know, 'doing the deed' with them, I'd just pretend it was Lenny, or something, and then the sex didn't seem so meaningless. But then I actually saw him, and now I know we're done. Maybe that's why I was doing all that stuff. I was just missing Lenny so bad. But I'm ready to move on now, you know? I have our memories, and that means the world to me."
"Ang, that's beautiful," she said quietly, in response to his speech, sitting back down on Fred's lap and stroking his hair again.
"I'm not even sad. I'm ready to start over. Find someone new!" Angel exclaimed, glowing with pride.
"That's good, Ang. So that means no more -," Fred began.
"No," Angel said firmly. "Never again."
"Good!" Queenie applauded, relieved. "And, darling, I told Freddie you knew about his. yeah."
"It's okay. I was planning on telling you soon anyway, Ang. I'm getting the AZT from the doctor tomorrow," Fred said quietly. "We're gonna beat this." He had a look of determination, as if he truly would be the one to stomp out the deadly AIDS virus; like he would be the one to outlast them all.
"We are, baby," Queenie encouraged, "And I got my results back today during lunch break, Ang. I'm negative."
"That's wonderful!" Angel cried, hugging them both.
The three of them embraced, breathing in the love that existed within the tight circle.
"It's late. We've all had a long day, so let's get to sleep." Fred said, interrupting the long hug.
"Okay," Angel responded, releasing himself from Queenie and Fred. "I love you guys."
"We love you, too," Fred said, smiling at both Queenie and Angel.
Angel left Queenie and Fred in the dressing room and walked down the hall to his own bedroom. The events of the day flashed in his mind as he changed into a pair of boxers and an old, baggy t-shirt. Shutting his eyes, he smiled as sleep started to come over him. He was ready to begin a new chapter.
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AND SO AM I! ( Hope you enjoyed this one, guys. I wrote it all at once.. inspiration, I guess. Anyway, as always READ AND REVIEW! Feel free to email me with suggestions as well.. im always open to change (
"That was fun, Angel. You're good," the drag queen said to him, winking in his direction. Pulling crisp bills out of her wallet, she thrust the generous sum into his small hands. "Nice work. We'll do this again."
"Thanks," Angel mumbled, attempting to be polite. Rushing out of the run-down East Village apartment, he began his walk back to the club, as he had so many nights before. He hated this walk more than anything. There were others, just like himself, returning from a busy night with bills shoved in their pockets or crumpled in their hands. These wee hours of the morning were when the junkies re-surfaced, looking for more smack to fulfill their addictions. Angel knew he wasn't one of these people. He wasn't some crack head, nymphomaniac prostitute, he just needed money. He barely made tips at the club, and the only time he did would be when he did a bit of a strip-tease during his performance. He needed to make extra money to buy new clothes, and possibly find his own place. Queenie and Fred didn't mind having him there, but he knew it was a burden for him to live in their house.
This was always the worst time of day, though. Queenie would look at him, disapprovingly. She'd n ever say anything, but he knew that she was upset about him. She treated him like a little brother, even a son sometimes, and to see somebody who she cared so deeply about selling his body broke her heart. He saw it in her eyes. It destroyed her, broke up her up into a thousand pieces. Angel hated to hurt her that way.
He walked around the back of the graffiti-ridden brick building and opened the steel door in the back. The mirror beckoned to him as he checked his reflection. As usual, he looked like hell after a night of submissive intimacy. His clothes were wrinkled from lying on the floor all night, his wig out of place with random strands of hair sticking out every which way, and his normally-perfect makeup smudged and faded, revealing large black circles under his tired eyes. His feet ached from walking so far in the heels he was wearing, and his entire body ached from night after night of prostituting.
Sighing, he proceeded down the halls to his dressing room, hoping to get in just before Queenie saw him. As he opened the door to his room, he found the lights on, and Queenie sitting on Angel's "bed", the ocean-blue fuzzy couch.
"Hi," he greeted, embarrassed for her to see him this way.
"Hi baby," she greeted, her voice sounding winded and tired, and nowhere near as cheerful as usual. "Angel, honey -"
"No," he cut her off, "I don't want to hear it. I know what I'm doing is wrong, or whatever, but I need the money. I need more clothes and stuff, and I can't expect you to pay for everything." He was doing his best not to cry. She looked old for the first time since he'd met her.
"I just worry about you, Ang. There's been so much going on, and Freddie and I don't even get to see you anymore. Everything's just been so crazy, and. I don't know, babe, I miss you," she said, sitting slightly hunched over on the vibrant blue couch. Her red, Asian-patterned kimono dress came well above her knees, revealing black fishnet stockings and shiny, patent-leather platform heels. Her makeup made her almond shaped eyes look even more slanted, her red lips sparkling under the dingy lighting.
"Queenie, I'm so so sorry. I know what a bitch it is for you guys to have me here, and I'm just trying to get some extra cash so I'll be out of your way as soon as possible."
"Don't you say that," she scolded, but smiled her brilliant smile and held his hand, "We love having you here. If anything, all you've done is help us, I mean, with Freddie... well, never mind that." She cut off her own sentence and stared down at the ground.
"With Freddie what? Queenie, what's wrong?" He asked in all seriousness, staring compassionately into her eyes.
"Hon, I don't think now is quite the time to tell you," she trailed off, her eyes darting everywhere except on to Angel.
"No, tell me. Something is wrong. You've always been a bad liar," he said, attempting to ease it out of her.
"Okay." she sighed and paused, "Don't say anything to Freddie yet. He didn't even want to tell me but. Baby, Freddie has HIV. He got tested a week ago, and I'm still waiting for the results of my test." Queenie looked so unbelievably calm, while Angel stood next to her, squeezing her hand in total shock.
"How?" he choked out.
"I don't know. There's still a possibility that I don't have it, because we've been safe, but accidents happen, you know? He's had a lot of other partners before me. He was just feeling a little funny, and he has a history of iron deficiency, so we thought he should get tested. His iron is fine. His T-Cells aren't." She held Angel's hand, consoling him, when Angel knew he should be the one comforting her.
"Oh god," he whispered, as tears freely flowed down his face, ruining his makeup even further. "Can he take anything?"
"There's AZT, but the best thing we can give him is no medicine, baby, it's support. We need to stand by him, be his life support, you know?" she said, smiling a sad grin at him.
"How can you be so calm? He's gonna die!" Angel screamed at her, fearing the loss of his only real father figure.
"It's the only way to be. We're all gonna die eventually, baby," Queenie said, trying to maintain her optimism.
"Just - just stop it! You might die too, then who will I have? Where will I go?" he yelled in her face, then began sobbing.
"Honey, I'm not going anywhere yet, and neither is Freddie. Just enjoy what we have now. We'll worry later," she consoled, holding the distraught, young boy to her chest, stroking his wig and hugging him tightly. Angel couldn't speak between his shaking sobs.
After what seemed like hours, Angel finally calmed down enough to speak rationally. "I'm scared to lose both of you. I don't have anybody else, and I need you guys. Both of you."
"I know, I know. You don't need to worry now, though. We'll just enjoy the present, and see what happens in the future," she reassured him, standing up and brushing off her dress. "Well, we should get something to eat, and start cleaning the club. It's a Saturday, you know, so we've got lots to do."
Wiping his makeup-ridden tears off his face, Angel hugged Queenie one more time. "I love you."
"Love you too, Ang," she smiled and kissed him on the forehead.
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As usual, the Saturday crowd was whistling and cheering as the various performers did their acts. Angel was the last performer of the night, and then the DJ would be spinning some techno music. Usually, Angel would rile up the crowd with his show-stopping rendition of It's Raining Men, but tonight, he wanted to sing a new song. He was in a sad and depressive mood, after finding out about Freddie that morning. He wasn't quite up to singing his song and doing his usual seductive dance. Tonight would be dedicated to Freddie and Queenie and the love he felt for them. People by Barbara Streisand seemed fitting tonight. Not to mention the fact that Angel was well-aware that many of the club-goers had a fixation with Barbara. She was an icon in the male gay community.
"People who need people, are the luckiest people, in the world," he sang sweetly as the music faded out. Rather than getting loud cheers and hoots from the crowd, he received heart-felt applause, as if the entire audience knew of Freddie's HIV, and they all loved him as deeply as Angel did. He took a bow, the long fabric of his black and white satin gown crinkling as he did so. Tonight was no night for flashy sequin and glitter skirts with skimpy belly tops. It was a somber night, which called for an elegant, floor-length black satin gown, with a flowing white insert in the back. His long, blonde wig looked brilliantly vibrant against the soft, dark material. Angel's makeup was understated as well: not so bright and gaudy tonight. His lips were a shiny, pale pink, his eyes rimmed with thin, black lines highlighted with shimmer silver-white eye shadow. Even his shoes were modest: not the 4 ½ inch "porn star" shoes he usually wore. He had selected skimpy, strappy sandals with a much lower heel. Before he had gone out to perform, Queenie told him how radiant he looked. At times, he would feel awkward and out of place in drag, but not tonight. He walked on and performed feeling beautiful and graceful, as a train of satin following eagerly behind him.
After he had performed, Angel walked briskly out the backstage curtain, dying for something to drink from the bar. His throat was burning with thirst, especially after his beautiful rendition of People. As per usual, men swarmed around the young performer, still decked out in the fabulous black gown.
"That was beautiful, Ang. I've never heard a Barbara song covered like that. You did the woman justice," a young man said to Angel, placing his hand delicately on the drag queen's shoulder.
"Thank you," Angel managed to choke out from his parched throat, still weaving his way through the masses to get to the bar.
"Coke comin' right up, baby," Enrico told him, mastering his usual order of a coke with no ice and a lemon wedge. After the performance segment of the night, the bar usually cleared out, leaving only a few stragglers left.
Sighing and crossing his thin legs, Angel looked to his left and noticed three queens, club regulars, talking and laughing over a round of margaritas. Angel was never tempted to drink, but the frigid liquid of the margarita made him want to rip it out of Jackie's hand and down it himself. Resisting the urge, he turned his head to the right, seeing only one lonely man sitting two seats away from him. The man was good looking, a real hottie, by Angel's standards. He was wearing a fitted, ribbed white tank top to combat the early June heat. The pronounced muscles of his arms stood out even more against the thin, white straps of the shirt. His baggy deep-blue jeans covered the tops of the tan, Timberland work boots. The curls of his closely-cut hair wrapped around each other in a black, gelled mass. It was obvious the man was alone, with that forlorn expression he had in his eyes as he absently stirred whatever he was drinking.
Feeling a wave of sympathy come over him, Angel scooted two seats over with the large mug of coke. The man looked oddly familiar, as Angel noticed when he saw him up close.
Clearing his throat, he began, "Hi. You know, you look really familiar. My name's Angel," he smiled and held out his hand for a shake.
"You look familiar t -," he stopped abruptly, the kind brown eyes bugging out of his head, "Angel?"
The deep voice caught Angel off-guard when he finally recognized the mystery man. "Lenny?!"
Angel's mouth hung open. He was paralyzed with shock for the second time that day. Of course it was Lenny. The tan muscles, black hair, and deep brown eyes should have given it away. It had only been two months since they'd last seen each other. One would think that such a beautiful face would have lingered longer in his mind, and he would have recognized the former lover right away.
"Oh my god, I can't believe you're here! I thought you'd be away for, well." Angel trailed off, not quite knowing what to say, or how to say it.
"Yeah, I thought I'd be gone year-round too. The school gets out June first every year, so I was only there for under two months. It's hell, though. I was glad to get out," he explained, as the stirring of his drink quickened.
"Well, I'm, uh, glad you're here. I. I really missed you, Lenny," he admitted, watching Lenny stir the drink intensely.
"I didn't expect you to be here," Lenny said, rapidly changing the subject to rid his eyes of the hurt he was feeling.
"That day. yeah, I went to go see Mami, and I guess Papi attacked her, or something, and he hurt her real bad and she." Angel trailed off, trying with all his might to keep the tears inside. The damn threatened to burst every time he thought about Mami.
"Ang, I'm sorry. That's awful," Lenny said, sincerely, lightly taking hold of Angel's hand as he did so many times before.
"It's okay. But I came here to find the shelter, and then I really needed a bathroom. Like, I was about to burst!" he giggled, "So I wandered into this club, bumped into the owner, Queenie, told her my story about you and Mami, and she insisted I live here. She wouldn't take no for an answer. So, as payment, I perform."
"You were great. You look beautiful," Lenny admitted, blushing and abruptly stopping the stirring of his drink.
"Thank you," Angel smiled, and blushed along with him. Changing the subject, "Oh, you have to meet Queenie. I've told her all about you!" he gushed and grabbed Lenny's hand, pulling him up off the stool, and dragging him backstage.
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"Queenie?" Angel asked the empty rooms backstage. "Babe, I have to introduce you to someone!"
"Ang? Come here honey!" Queenie called from her dressing room.
Scampering in with his hand entwined with Lenny's, Angel greeted Queenie with a big smile. "This is the fabulous Lenny Costales I've told you so much about."
"Oh my god!" she squealed and lept up off her glowing orange chair to greet him. "I'm Queenie. I don't know if Angel told you, but I own this club with my wonderful partner in crime, Frederico," she recited the introduction and pointed to Fred, who was sitting quietly on a highlighter- yellow bean bag chair.
"Um, nice to meet you," Lenny said, in a state of culture-shock. Seeing Angel in drag was one thing. He'd seen that a few times before, mostly for dares or humor, but still. Being surrounded by drag queens was entirely different.
"You two run along now," Queenie insisted after a minute of silence, as she proceeded to shoo Angel and Lenny out of her room. "You have a lot of catching up to do, and I will NOT interfere."
"But -," Angel began.
Queenie, waving her hand in front of Angel's face, "No 'buts', honey. OUT!" She demanded, closing her eyes and dramatically pointing outside to the hallway.
"Nice to meet you," Lenny said, as Angel yanked his arm and dragged him outside to the streets.
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The alleys of the East Village were surprisingly warm on the late- spring, June evening. Unsure of how to act towards Lenny, Angel awkwardly walked next to him, afraid to touch any part of his body.
"It's nice here. Completely different from the Park," Lenny said, as the two strolled along.
"Yeah, I like it. And it's -. shit, never mind," Angel said, afraid to finish the sentence.
Sighing, Lenny glanced down at Angel's hand, looking at the glittering bracelet he was wearing. It matched so well with the black and white gown. Boldly, he grabbed the slender hand, then looked into the loving amber-hazel eyes. "I've really missed you, Ang. It's hell there. They all call each other 'faggot' and 'cock-sucker' and I can't stand it."
"Oh, baby." Angel spoke softly, unsure of how to react. His heart was thawing by the touch of Lenny's hand. "How long are you here for?"
"Till August 21st, I think. Then, we have hell-week, then it's back to regular training and classes."
"Sounds awful. So you're here for a while then?" Angel questioned, awkwardly.
"Yeah," he trailed off.
"So maybe we can, you know -," Angel began.
"I don't think so. I loved you, Ang, but. I'm not in love with you anymore," Lenny stated, still holding Angel's small hand, looking down at the crumbling concrete.
"But we don't have to do anything. it can just be as friends, babe," Angel tried to persuade him.
"Don't call me 'babe'," Lenny mumbled, "and I think it's better off this way. Look at you, Ang. You've changed. A lot."
"C'mon, you always knew I'd do this someday. Remember when I wore that leather skirt? With the chains? You loved me in that! This is my calling!" he giggled, searching for Lenny to share the joke with him.
Managing a sad smile, Lenny responded, "This isn't funny. There's something about you that's different. The second I held your hand I felt it. I could see it in your eyes." His voice was getting increasingly louder.
"What do you mean?" he asked, puzzled.
"It's like," he sighed, "It's like all the love's died inside you, or something. Like sex and love mean nothing to you."
"Listen, just because I have to make a living doesn't mean I -,"
"What?" he cut in, asking in a loud, enraged voice, "What do you mean 'make a living'? Angel, are you a -?" He stopped, unable to finish the thought.
Angel just looked to the concrete, seeking solace in its crumbling surface.
"You're too good for that," he snapped.
"It's not like you think, but a lot's changed in these past two months, you're right. And it's not like love doesn't mean anything anymore. When I'm with those guys, it's just for the money, I don't even think about what's going on!" Angel yelled as well. Lenny had never heard him yell this way before; it startled him.
"You're numb," Lenny mumbled back.
"And every fucking time I'm with anyone, all I can think of is how much I miss you. and I how much I wish it was you was with, instead of some sex-starved stranger!" Angel exclaimed, feeling the damn about to burst, angry tears flowing freely.
"You know what, Ang? I missed you too. but I can't keep thinking like that anymore. What we had was amazing, and I wouldn't trade any of it for the world. I almost wish I hadn't seen you now, so our memories would have been that much sweeter. But maybe it was supposed to be this way, because I can't keep sitting in my shitty little hole-in-the-wall bedroom at fucking boot camp waiting for you and me to happen again. I can't keep waiting for you to save me from the ignorant homophobes. We're over, and that's the way it is. That's the way it'll always be."
"I don't want us to end this way," Angel said quietly.
"Time flies without you, Ang. And love dies," he said bitterly, "Goodbye, my Angel."
And, with that, he left. Angel watched the receding form of his former lover shrink as he walked slowly down the street. He watched until Lenny was nothing more than a vanishing white dot against the city landscape, until he had disappeared completely. This time, he would not cry.
"Goodbye love," he whispered, just as he had that April day when he had left Lenny for the first time. The howling winds in the alleys elicited no reply.
Glancing at the had that was held just moments ago, he spun slowly around on his heels and stumbled back to the club.
This time, he wouldn't cry, because Lenny was right. Love does die. No matter what had happened, or would happen, Angel and Lenny were over. The love between them had died with each passing day. This way, the memories were more sweet.
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The club was virtually empty as Angel walked in. There were a few people cleaning up the floor, Timmy was locking up the doors, and Enrico was closing the bar. He'd never been around when they were closing up the club for the night. It had a completely different vibe than it did when people were there. It didn't seem so sleazy.
Queenie and Fred were nowhere to be found. Eager to tell Queenie about the encounter with Lenny, he briskly walked backstage to the dressing rooms.
Sure enough, Queenie was in her room, still wearing her beautiful kimono dress, sitting on Fred's lap and stroking his hair. Fred's eyes looked tired and empty as he clutched Queenie around the waist.
"Hey," Angel chirped as he walked into the room.
"Hi," they chorused, Queenie kissing Fred and standing up.
"Someone sounds cheerful. OH, how's everything with Lenny? Are you two a -," Queenie asked, winking at him and smiling a mischievous grin.
"No, not even close," Angel said, as the smile from Queenie's face faded instantly.
"What happened?" Fred asked in a deep, tired voice.
"We're over, I guess that's it. You know, I thought I'd die without him. And every time I was with some random stranger, all I'd think of was Lenny. When I was, ya know, 'doing the deed' with them, I'd just pretend it was Lenny, or something, and then the sex didn't seem so meaningless. But then I actually saw him, and now I know we're done. Maybe that's why I was doing all that stuff. I was just missing Lenny so bad. But I'm ready to move on now, you know? I have our memories, and that means the world to me."
"Ang, that's beautiful," she said quietly, in response to his speech, sitting back down on Fred's lap and stroking his hair again.
"I'm not even sad. I'm ready to start over. Find someone new!" Angel exclaimed, glowing with pride.
"That's good, Ang. So that means no more -," Fred began.
"No," Angel said firmly. "Never again."
"Good!" Queenie applauded, relieved. "And, darling, I told Freddie you knew about his. yeah."
"It's okay. I was planning on telling you soon anyway, Ang. I'm getting the AZT from the doctor tomorrow," Fred said quietly. "We're gonna beat this." He had a look of determination, as if he truly would be the one to stomp out the deadly AIDS virus; like he would be the one to outlast them all.
"We are, baby," Queenie encouraged, "And I got my results back today during lunch break, Ang. I'm negative."
"That's wonderful!" Angel cried, hugging them both.
The three of them embraced, breathing in the love that existed within the tight circle.
"It's late. We've all had a long day, so let's get to sleep." Fred said, interrupting the long hug.
"Okay," Angel responded, releasing himself from Queenie and Fred. "I love you guys."
"We love you, too," Fred said, smiling at both Queenie and Angel.
Angel left Queenie and Fred in the dressing room and walked down the hall to his own bedroom. The events of the day flashed in his mind as he changed into a pair of boxers and an old, baggy t-shirt. Shutting his eyes, he smiled as sleep started to come over him. He was ready to begin a new chapter.
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AND SO AM I! ( Hope you enjoyed this one, guys. I wrote it all at once.. inspiration, I guess. Anyway, as always READ AND REVIEW! Feel free to email me with suggestions as well.. im always open to change (