Chapter 19: What Love Feels Like
"He is SO cute, oh my God!" Angel gushed as he sat on Queenie's lap, explaining the events of the day with Will. "He's hot, gay, single, AND he owns a boutique with the cutest clothes in the world. Look what I got there!" he squealed and took out the fashionable ensemble he received.
"Oh my god, that is cute! Those jeans, Ang, wow. they're fabulous!" Queenie yelped, admiring the outfit. "I wish I could fit into that. If I was only a couple pounds less." she trailed off, then continued, "Okay, I need to meet this boy, is he gonna come here?"
"Yes! He's coming tonight. Oh my god, I'm so excited. He kissed me today, and I swear I felt love. It was amazing. I've never felt anything like this before, not even with Lenny," he said, sighing.
"Aw, Angel baby, I'm so happy for you. I hope this one's good for you. You deserve it. Now, you go get ready, and sing your little heart out tonight, okay hon?" she said, hugging the boy on her lap.
"Yeah I will. I really like this one, I hope it works this time," he said, getting up from Queenie's lap.
He walked down the hall to his dressing room to get ready for his birthday performance. "Will's my birthday present," he said, happily to his reflection, while he was touching up his makeup and switching his wig. Humming "Happy Birthday" to himself, he spent extra time selecting an outfit, and perfecting his makeup. Tonight would be a special night.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The line of drag queens and their boyfriends snaked its way around the run-down graffiti-ridden walls of the club, all the way down the corroding sidewalks. It was only 8:00. Will had been to enough clubs in his day to know that it was always a good idea to arrive early. Feeling uncomfortable amongst the transvestites, Will shifted his weight awkwardly from side to side, attempting to engross himself in the disintegrating concrete beneath his Birkenstock sandals. He didn't feel like getting too dressed up tonight, so he had traded the khaki shorts for a pair of khaki pants that were enormous on his built frame.
Sighing, he nervously cracked his knuckles thinking about what he would say to Angel, and how thrilled he was to be seeing him again. After not having the best luck in love, Will had moved to the city as an attempt to escape it all, more than anything. He never expected to find love in New York, and two weeks after he moved in, he did. He couldn't put his fingers on it, but there was something about the vivacious drag queen that seemed to pump love back into his heart.
Will was so busy daydreaming about Angel that he hardly realized that there was no longer a sea of sparkles in front of him from the clothes of the transvestites. Rather, an obese security guard yelling, "Next," to into his face.
"Uh, hi. I'm with Angel Schunard," Will mumbled, indimidated by the man's sheer size.
"Will, right?" he asked, nonchalantly.
"Uh yeah. Did he tell you I was coming?"
"She most certainly did! Go on in, enjoy," he said, stuffing his face with a cream-filled doughnut, opening the door and sending Will into the black abyss of the nightclub.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Oh my god," Will gasped as he look on stage. "And I thought he looked good in that pink dress."
Will had seen his fair share of beautiful men throughout his life, especially the Nantucket lifeguards, and the sight of Angel on that stage far surpassed any beauty he'd ever seen. The sensual dance he was performing only added to his sex appeal.
Only Angel could pull that outfit off. Most men were hideous in mini- skirts and cropped tops, but Angel was radiant. It was difficult for Will to see exactly what he was wearing, but he was fixated on the amount of skin showing.
Angel continued to belt the chorus to It's Raining Men, one of Will's favorite guilty-pleasure songs. It was hard to believe that such a big voice came from such a small person. He wrapped his leg seductively around a pole, caressing it gently, the long black waves of his wig beating against his back and shoulders as he sang.
Will was positively mesmerized, watching the way the boy moved so beautifully. It was almost as if Angel was inhuman, some god-like androgynous figure, lighting up the stage.
Wailing at the top of his lungs, Angel finished the songs. "It's raining men, AMEN!" The rowdy audience erupted into a flood of applause and cheers for the young performer.
"Ladies and gentlemen, today is this lovely lady's birthday, let's show her some looooove," the tall black man bellowed into the microphone. Will was impressed with the man; he was quite attractive. The crowd hollered even louder at the man's command. "Happy birthday, beautiful," he said to Angel, hugging him and kissing the top of his head.
Angel took a bow, then jetted back behind the curtains. Impatiently, Will waited for him to come out of the door.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Just moments after he went backstage to check his makeup, Angel emerged from the door to the stage, still in his sexy, full-drag get up. Glancing around and nervously chewing his nail, he searched for Will, eager to see him again.
Finally, catching the drag queen's eye, Will waved as Angel hopped over to him, hugging him tightly.
Will held him around the waist, finally getting a good look at the outfit he was wearing. A denim mini-skirt with a fraying hem grazed his thighs well above his knees. The skirt sat low on his hips, held up by protruding hipbones. His flat, hairless stomach was exposed, his chest covered by a sparkling silver-sequin tank top, held up by clear straps. Even the makeup was beautifully perfect, blue and silver glitter brushed carefully on his eyelids, long fake black eyelashes accenting his sparkling amber-hazel eyes. Yanking the skirt down to cover a bit more of his smoothly-shaven legs, he sat on Will's lap, still being held by him.
"God, I am so glad to see you," the drag queen breathed, smiling at his new love interest.
"You have no idea," Will mumbled dumbfounded by his appearance. "My God, you look amazing."
"Thank you. You look nice too, honey," Angel said, caressing his face, gently. "Let's get out of here. I am starving!"
"Fine with me," Will said, as Angel took hold of his hand, guiding him out of the club. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"So tell me about you," Angel said, staring at his plate of pasta with soy meatballs and pesto sauce. The two men were sitting at a brown wooden table in the back corner of Spring Gardens. "I told you all about Lenny, Queenie, and my parents, but I haven't heard anything about you yet. I mean, besides being the only yuppie New England fag," Angel said, giggling.
Smiling back at him, Will responded, "You really want to know?"
"Absolutely," he insisted.
"I guess I'll start form the beginning then," he sighed, and continued to stir his own identical plate of pasta. "I guess I kind of always knew I was gay. It wasn't like I woke up one day and was like 'Ooh, I love boys." It was just kind of. you know, always there.
"New England sucks, especially Westport, Connecticut. You can probably tell I'm a full-bred New England prep, but that's not my fault, you know. It's just the way I was brought up."
"I believe you, hon," Angel said, taking hold of his hand.
"Thanks," Will replied, feeling his body warm by Angel's touch. "Anyway, you can imagine my parents wouldn't take it well if they knew I was gay. Come on, my name's William Dumott the third. I'm this legacy at Yale, my father inherited millions from his grandfather's business. We have a fucking beach house in Nantucket. I mean, every stupid stereotype of yuppie New-Englanders you can think of is exactly the way my family is. So I couldn't wait to get out. I needed to be anywhere but there. I had met this really great guy in Nantucket one summer, and we both had the same dilemma. His parents would never approve, and mine would never, either. When I came back home from Nantucket that summer, I couldn't get him off my mind. I missed him, and he missed me. I was 17, summer of my junior year in high school, and the homosexuality inside of me was exploding. I needed to tell my parents. I couldn't hold it in anymore."
"I know the feeling," Angel mumbled, glancing down at his half-eaten plate of pasta.
Gripping tighter to Angel's hand, Will started talking again. "You told me what your Dad did to you, and... I thought my dad would do the exact same thing. My parents had never hit me, or anything. I mean, the thought had never even crossed my mind. But when I told them I was gay, I really felt the slap before it happened. They didn't even believe me. My father thought it was some sort of sick joke. His son, his legacy. a faggot. At least he didn't get too violent, or anything. He just told me that I was getting sent to Yale with the 'right kind of people,' and I'd meet a girl there. It's like he thought that I'd be straight just cause he wanted me to be, you know."
"At least he didn't throw you on the street, or anything, babe," Angel said, trying to console him.
"Good point. But he sent me to Yale, dressed me in the classic prep- school attire, and left me there. It's almost as bad. I thought being a gay New-Englander was bad. God, try being gay at Yale University. I would have been completely shocked if there was even one other gay guy there. I'd never felt like such a minority in my whole life. So, last summer, at the end of my junior year of college hell, I dropped out. I used the money in my bank account to buy a cheap-shit used car, and drove down to Florida: the complete OPPOSITE of Connecticut. I got myself a job and all, and it was fine."
"Then how did you end up here?"
"I've always loved New York City. A couple of times, my family would go into the city when my dad was on business, and it just felt like home there. Once, I saw this gay couple kissing and holding each other, and I was completely in awe. Like, 'They can do that?!' and I knew that New York City would be my home. Florida was just temporary. After that spring, I came up here looking for a place to sell the clothes my ex-boyfriend made. Remember Nantucket boy?"
Angel nodded.
"Yeah, him. We broke up once I moved to Florida, but we stayed good friends and kept in touch. I rented out this place to sell his clothes. So here I am. two weeks later. In New York City, with the most beautiful person I've ever met," Will finished his story, motioning for Angel to come over and sit on his lap.
Obediently, Angel popped up from his chair, scampering over to the other side of the table, situating himself comfortably on Will's lap.
"Be with me, Angel," Will whispered into his ear, holding him tightly.
"Will." Angel sighed, welcoming his touch.
"You can work at the store, I need some help anyway. And I need you," he pleaded.
"I. I don't know. I'm- I'm scared," he admitted, quietly.
"You don't have to be. I know what you've been through, and I won't hurt you. Nothing could ever make me want to see you in pain. I want you to be happy, and I'll make you happy. Be my lover, Angel."
Smiling sweetly, Angel planted a small, soft kiss on his lips. "You let me know about the hours at the store."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Queenie, baby!" Angel called, sauntering into the club well after its closing. The summer night was extremely warm, making him comfortable in his skin-bearing ensemble. "Fred? Where are you guys?"
Angel opened the door to find Queenie and Fred in the middle of a steamy make-out session.
"Ang!" Queenie squeaked, pulling Fred's shirt down and fixing her wig.
"Oh. God, I'm sorry!" Angel apologized, turning away from the couple so as not to stare.
"It's okay, honey. Don't worry about it. You missed your party, though. We were all gonna celebrate, but you were gone. Enrico tells me you left with that boy. You didn't even introduce us!" she exclaimed with a false betrayal in her voice.
"I know I know. And I'm SO SO sorry, honey, but he wanted to go, and I wanted to see him so bad. And he offered me a job! Imagine that! I wouldn't even have to bother you guys anymore," he gushed.
Ang. we want you here! You're our best performer, and we love having you here," Queenie explained, the false drama-queen tone of voice replaced by a genuine concern.
"I don't' have to inconvenience you. I'll just perform less, then. I'll only do weekends, is that alright?" he asked, enthusiastically.
"I guess so, honey, but we'll miss you. You're still staying here, right?"
"Yeah! Of course! Well, for now, at least. Oh my god! What if he asks me to move in with him?!" Angel squealed with excitement
"Slow down, Ang, you've only known the boy a day now," Queenie said, holding the excited boy close to her chest.
"I know, but it feels real this time. I'm crazy about him. Queenie, is that what love feels like?" he asked, looking like a little kid with hope in his eyes.
"Baby, when it's true love, you won't even have to ask."
"He is SO cute, oh my God!" Angel gushed as he sat on Queenie's lap, explaining the events of the day with Will. "He's hot, gay, single, AND he owns a boutique with the cutest clothes in the world. Look what I got there!" he squealed and took out the fashionable ensemble he received.
"Oh my god, that is cute! Those jeans, Ang, wow. they're fabulous!" Queenie yelped, admiring the outfit. "I wish I could fit into that. If I was only a couple pounds less." she trailed off, then continued, "Okay, I need to meet this boy, is he gonna come here?"
"Yes! He's coming tonight. Oh my god, I'm so excited. He kissed me today, and I swear I felt love. It was amazing. I've never felt anything like this before, not even with Lenny," he said, sighing.
"Aw, Angel baby, I'm so happy for you. I hope this one's good for you. You deserve it. Now, you go get ready, and sing your little heart out tonight, okay hon?" she said, hugging the boy on her lap.
"Yeah I will. I really like this one, I hope it works this time," he said, getting up from Queenie's lap.
He walked down the hall to his dressing room to get ready for his birthday performance. "Will's my birthday present," he said, happily to his reflection, while he was touching up his makeup and switching his wig. Humming "Happy Birthday" to himself, he spent extra time selecting an outfit, and perfecting his makeup. Tonight would be a special night.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The line of drag queens and their boyfriends snaked its way around the run-down graffiti-ridden walls of the club, all the way down the corroding sidewalks. It was only 8:00. Will had been to enough clubs in his day to know that it was always a good idea to arrive early. Feeling uncomfortable amongst the transvestites, Will shifted his weight awkwardly from side to side, attempting to engross himself in the disintegrating concrete beneath his Birkenstock sandals. He didn't feel like getting too dressed up tonight, so he had traded the khaki shorts for a pair of khaki pants that were enormous on his built frame.
Sighing, he nervously cracked his knuckles thinking about what he would say to Angel, and how thrilled he was to be seeing him again. After not having the best luck in love, Will had moved to the city as an attempt to escape it all, more than anything. He never expected to find love in New York, and two weeks after he moved in, he did. He couldn't put his fingers on it, but there was something about the vivacious drag queen that seemed to pump love back into his heart.
Will was so busy daydreaming about Angel that he hardly realized that there was no longer a sea of sparkles in front of him from the clothes of the transvestites. Rather, an obese security guard yelling, "Next," to into his face.
"Uh, hi. I'm with Angel Schunard," Will mumbled, indimidated by the man's sheer size.
"Will, right?" he asked, nonchalantly.
"Uh yeah. Did he tell you I was coming?"
"She most certainly did! Go on in, enjoy," he said, stuffing his face with a cream-filled doughnut, opening the door and sending Will into the black abyss of the nightclub.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Oh my god," Will gasped as he look on stage. "And I thought he looked good in that pink dress."
Will had seen his fair share of beautiful men throughout his life, especially the Nantucket lifeguards, and the sight of Angel on that stage far surpassed any beauty he'd ever seen. The sensual dance he was performing only added to his sex appeal.
Only Angel could pull that outfit off. Most men were hideous in mini- skirts and cropped tops, but Angel was radiant. It was difficult for Will to see exactly what he was wearing, but he was fixated on the amount of skin showing.
Angel continued to belt the chorus to It's Raining Men, one of Will's favorite guilty-pleasure songs. It was hard to believe that such a big voice came from such a small person. He wrapped his leg seductively around a pole, caressing it gently, the long black waves of his wig beating against his back and shoulders as he sang.
Will was positively mesmerized, watching the way the boy moved so beautifully. It was almost as if Angel was inhuman, some god-like androgynous figure, lighting up the stage.
Wailing at the top of his lungs, Angel finished the songs. "It's raining men, AMEN!" The rowdy audience erupted into a flood of applause and cheers for the young performer.
"Ladies and gentlemen, today is this lovely lady's birthday, let's show her some looooove," the tall black man bellowed into the microphone. Will was impressed with the man; he was quite attractive. The crowd hollered even louder at the man's command. "Happy birthday, beautiful," he said to Angel, hugging him and kissing the top of his head.
Angel took a bow, then jetted back behind the curtains. Impatiently, Will waited for him to come out of the door.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Just moments after he went backstage to check his makeup, Angel emerged from the door to the stage, still in his sexy, full-drag get up. Glancing around and nervously chewing his nail, he searched for Will, eager to see him again.
Finally, catching the drag queen's eye, Will waved as Angel hopped over to him, hugging him tightly.
Will held him around the waist, finally getting a good look at the outfit he was wearing. A denim mini-skirt with a fraying hem grazed his thighs well above his knees. The skirt sat low on his hips, held up by protruding hipbones. His flat, hairless stomach was exposed, his chest covered by a sparkling silver-sequin tank top, held up by clear straps. Even the makeup was beautifully perfect, blue and silver glitter brushed carefully on his eyelids, long fake black eyelashes accenting his sparkling amber-hazel eyes. Yanking the skirt down to cover a bit more of his smoothly-shaven legs, he sat on Will's lap, still being held by him.
"God, I am so glad to see you," the drag queen breathed, smiling at his new love interest.
"You have no idea," Will mumbled dumbfounded by his appearance. "My God, you look amazing."
"Thank you. You look nice too, honey," Angel said, caressing his face, gently. "Let's get out of here. I am starving!"
"Fine with me," Will said, as Angel took hold of his hand, guiding him out of the club. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"So tell me about you," Angel said, staring at his plate of pasta with soy meatballs and pesto sauce. The two men were sitting at a brown wooden table in the back corner of Spring Gardens. "I told you all about Lenny, Queenie, and my parents, but I haven't heard anything about you yet. I mean, besides being the only yuppie New England fag," Angel said, giggling.
Smiling back at him, Will responded, "You really want to know?"
"Absolutely," he insisted.
"I guess I'll start form the beginning then," he sighed, and continued to stir his own identical plate of pasta. "I guess I kind of always knew I was gay. It wasn't like I woke up one day and was like 'Ooh, I love boys." It was just kind of. you know, always there.
"New England sucks, especially Westport, Connecticut. You can probably tell I'm a full-bred New England prep, but that's not my fault, you know. It's just the way I was brought up."
"I believe you, hon," Angel said, taking hold of his hand.
"Thanks," Will replied, feeling his body warm by Angel's touch. "Anyway, you can imagine my parents wouldn't take it well if they knew I was gay. Come on, my name's William Dumott the third. I'm this legacy at Yale, my father inherited millions from his grandfather's business. We have a fucking beach house in Nantucket. I mean, every stupid stereotype of yuppie New-Englanders you can think of is exactly the way my family is. So I couldn't wait to get out. I needed to be anywhere but there. I had met this really great guy in Nantucket one summer, and we both had the same dilemma. His parents would never approve, and mine would never, either. When I came back home from Nantucket that summer, I couldn't get him off my mind. I missed him, and he missed me. I was 17, summer of my junior year in high school, and the homosexuality inside of me was exploding. I needed to tell my parents. I couldn't hold it in anymore."
"I know the feeling," Angel mumbled, glancing down at his half-eaten plate of pasta.
Gripping tighter to Angel's hand, Will started talking again. "You told me what your Dad did to you, and... I thought my dad would do the exact same thing. My parents had never hit me, or anything. I mean, the thought had never even crossed my mind. But when I told them I was gay, I really felt the slap before it happened. They didn't even believe me. My father thought it was some sort of sick joke. His son, his legacy. a faggot. At least he didn't get too violent, or anything. He just told me that I was getting sent to Yale with the 'right kind of people,' and I'd meet a girl there. It's like he thought that I'd be straight just cause he wanted me to be, you know."
"At least he didn't throw you on the street, or anything, babe," Angel said, trying to console him.
"Good point. But he sent me to Yale, dressed me in the classic prep- school attire, and left me there. It's almost as bad. I thought being a gay New-Englander was bad. God, try being gay at Yale University. I would have been completely shocked if there was even one other gay guy there. I'd never felt like such a minority in my whole life. So, last summer, at the end of my junior year of college hell, I dropped out. I used the money in my bank account to buy a cheap-shit used car, and drove down to Florida: the complete OPPOSITE of Connecticut. I got myself a job and all, and it was fine."
"Then how did you end up here?"
"I've always loved New York City. A couple of times, my family would go into the city when my dad was on business, and it just felt like home there. Once, I saw this gay couple kissing and holding each other, and I was completely in awe. Like, 'They can do that?!' and I knew that New York City would be my home. Florida was just temporary. After that spring, I came up here looking for a place to sell the clothes my ex-boyfriend made. Remember Nantucket boy?"
Angel nodded.
"Yeah, him. We broke up once I moved to Florida, but we stayed good friends and kept in touch. I rented out this place to sell his clothes. So here I am. two weeks later. In New York City, with the most beautiful person I've ever met," Will finished his story, motioning for Angel to come over and sit on his lap.
Obediently, Angel popped up from his chair, scampering over to the other side of the table, situating himself comfortably on Will's lap.
"Be with me, Angel," Will whispered into his ear, holding him tightly.
"Will." Angel sighed, welcoming his touch.
"You can work at the store, I need some help anyway. And I need you," he pleaded.
"I. I don't know. I'm- I'm scared," he admitted, quietly.
"You don't have to be. I know what you've been through, and I won't hurt you. Nothing could ever make me want to see you in pain. I want you to be happy, and I'll make you happy. Be my lover, Angel."
Smiling sweetly, Angel planted a small, soft kiss on his lips. "You let me know about the hours at the store."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Queenie, baby!" Angel called, sauntering into the club well after its closing. The summer night was extremely warm, making him comfortable in his skin-bearing ensemble. "Fred? Where are you guys?"
Angel opened the door to find Queenie and Fred in the middle of a steamy make-out session.
"Ang!" Queenie squeaked, pulling Fred's shirt down and fixing her wig.
"Oh. God, I'm sorry!" Angel apologized, turning away from the couple so as not to stare.
"It's okay, honey. Don't worry about it. You missed your party, though. We were all gonna celebrate, but you were gone. Enrico tells me you left with that boy. You didn't even introduce us!" she exclaimed with a false betrayal in her voice.
"I know I know. And I'm SO SO sorry, honey, but he wanted to go, and I wanted to see him so bad. And he offered me a job! Imagine that! I wouldn't even have to bother you guys anymore," he gushed.
Ang. we want you here! You're our best performer, and we love having you here," Queenie explained, the false drama-queen tone of voice replaced by a genuine concern.
"I don't' have to inconvenience you. I'll just perform less, then. I'll only do weekends, is that alright?" he asked, enthusiastically.
"I guess so, honey, but we'll miss you. You're still staying here, right?"
"Yeah! Of course! Well, for now, at least. Oh my god! What if he asks me to move in with him?!" Angel squealed with excitement
"Slow down, Ang, you've only known the boy a day now," Queenie said, holding the excited boy close to her chest.
"I know, but it feels real this time. I'm crazy about him. Queenie, is that what love feels like?" he asked, looking like a little kid with hope in his eyes.
"Baby, when it's true love, you won't even have to ask."