Chapter 36: Independent
Angel walked into the club, wandering back to Queenie and Fred's room. Opening the door without knocking, he entered to see Queenie and Fred, both topless, groping each other intensely.
"Jesus!" he exclaimed, as the two of them scrambled, as usual, to get dressed as fast as possible. "I need to get out of here," he thought to himself, turning away from the couple.
"Angel. I'm sorry," Fred apologized, sheepishly, as he stood up, brushing off his clothes.
"It's okay. But, I needed to talk to you both about something right away," Angel said, in a serious tone, pulling on his green zip-up tank top as he spoke.
"Is everything alright?" Queenie questioned with concern.
Smiling, Angel continued, "Yes, everything's fine. I've actually got some good news, for once," he giggled, "I went back to Paul's tonight after life support because I left something there, and we started talking. I was explaining my living situation and everything. You know, I just mentioned you guys and talked about how you were probably worried that I wasn't home yet." He paused, looking at both of them. "Although, I'm beginning to re- think that part right about now."
The couple blushed furiously as Angel continued to speak. "So, anyway, the bottom line is that Paul offered me a place to crash. He said I needed to be more independent, and that he would help me find a place to live on my own, and he'd find me a job and stuff."
Ang, you've got a perfectly good home here, and a great job. I thought you liked working at the club," Queenie said, looking slightly hurt.
Immediately, Angel felt guilty. He didn't want to make either of them feel bad. They were, and always had been, his family, and he didn't want to do anything that would make them upset. "I know I do, but I'll be 22 in like 2 weeks. I really need to get out on my own. I need to be independent."
Still seeming upset, Queenie looked at Fred, who had a proud smile on his face. "I was wondering when you'd want the independence. You do need to be out on your own, and I fully support your decision."
Angel was shocked. "I really thought you would put up an argument. I mean, when I wanted to go and live with Will, you were both so against it."
"Ang, you were nineteen. That was almost three years ago. You've grown up so much, and you're really ready to be on your own. You need to make a life of your own outside the club," Fred explained.
Agreeing, Queenie said, "He's right, baby. We will always be here for you whenever you need us. I feel like I say that all the time, but it's true. You go off with this guy, and you have fun. Build a life for yourself, and start something new. You deserve it."
Beaming, Angel replied, "Thank you guys so much. I really mean that."
"We'll help you move as soon as you want," Fred said, as Angel began to leave the room. It was late, and he was tired, yet he was buzzing with exhilaration. A new chapter of his life was about to begin.
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The next morning, Angel awoke surprisingly early. On days where he didn't have to work, he rarely woke up before 12. Today, however, he was up at 9, ready to pack up his belongings. Bags and bags that held piles of sparkly dresses were displayed all over the floor of his small bedroom. He had decided that the best packing method would be to arrange the wardrobe by season, and then by color. Wigs were spread out around the carpet floor, as well as various tubes of lipstick, eye shadow, and tons of pictures from over the years.
It was hard to believe that today would be his lat day waking up in the club with Queenie and Fred. Moving didn't feel this final when he moved in with Will. That was, possibly, because he knew deep down that it wouldn't be permanent. He had loved Will, but the love wasn't that deep, rest-of-your-life kind of love. He knew it all along, but refused to admit to himself.
Taking each picture and placing them back in a large envelope, already bursting at the seams with photographs, he reminisced about each one. There was a photo of him and Will outside Model Boy, after they'd been together for only a few weeks. Will was holding Angel in his arms, smiling widely and brightly. "That was a long time ago," Angel whispered, sticking the photograph back in the envelope.
Another picture showed Angel and Queenie in Dancing Queen, posing with Tiff in some fabulous new dresses. Angel looked very young in the picture: He couldn't have been any older than 18. He still looked younger than 22, but his face possessed a child-like innocence back then. "And I thought life was tough then." he mumbled, placing that photo behind the one of him and Will.
Each photo told a story about Angel's past, all of them creating a stack of memories from his life since he'd lived with Queenie. The last picture in the stack, however, was much older, and more worn looking. It wasn't on the same high-quality photo paper as the rest of the pictures were. This photograph was slightly yellowed, the corners curling up a bit. He knew immediately which picture it was, as he could barely bring himself to look at it.
The bright, happy 14 year old Angel smiled up at the 22 year old drag queen. He was wearing a worn flannel shirt and tight blue jeans, with brand new, white sneakers. "The fashions of the late 80's," Angel mumbled, shuddering as he continued to study the picture further. Papi was standing next to him in a masculine button-up plaid shirt and deep green pants. Timberland hiking boots covered his feet, and he held a hiking stick in one hand, the other arm placed possessively around his wife. Mami stood smiling shyly next to him, her beautiful black hair blowing in the wind. Even she was dressed casual on that day, as the 3 of them had hiked up a mountain in Peru that morning. She had a black tunic on and a pair of faded, light blue jeans. She wore a pair of exercise sneakers. Both of her arms were occupied: One loosely around her husband's waist, and the other squeezing her young son's shoulders.
Tears dripped from his long eyelashes onto the picture, making tiny water spots on the blue sky. He hadn't even looked at this picture since the day he packed up and left his home that cold, winter night in February when he was 16 years old.
"I miss her," he whispered, hugging the picture closely to his chest. "Mami," he continued, "I hope you're proud of me. I hope I've made you proud to be my mother."
Looking at the picture on time, he stuck it back in the envelope and shut his eyes. He'd been through a whole lot since that picture was taken. He hadn't even truly realized how much his life has changed since then. Mami was dead; Papi was out of the picture, and long gone; he had new "parents" who loved him more than anything; he had been married; he had gotten AIDS, and now, he was about to move out on his own. He really was growing up.
"It's been an interesting 6 years," he said to himself, as he continued to pack.
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The clock finally struck eleven, and Angel jumped up to call Paul. He figured that calling any earlier would be rude.
"Good morning!" Paul chirped into the phone. Angel could almost hear the smile his voice.
"Paul? Hey, it's Angel."
"Hello, Angel. How are you?" he asked, his voice still bright and cheery.
"I'm alright, I just need to ask you something."
"Sure, what's up?"
"Um, I talked to Queenie and Fred last night, and they're letting me move out. I just wanted to make sure that it really is okay for me to stay with you. I don't want to be an inconvenience, you know? And -"
"Angel, if I didn't want you here I wouldn't have asked," Paul stated.
Blushing slightly, Angel responded, "Yeah, I guess you're right. When can I start bringing my stuff over?"
"I'll be here all day, so come and go as you like. But first, I'd like to tell you something."
"Okay, sure," he replied, curious and confused.
"I was taking my morning stroll today, and I walked by this makeup store. Mac, I think it was called? Anyway, they had a help wanted sign in the window, so I went in and asked them about it. Bottom line is you have a job interview at Mac tonight at 6, right before they close."
"You got me an interview?" Angel questioned, astonished.
"I told you I was going to get you back on your feet. I wasn't just saying that. I figured a job at a makeup counter would be perfect for somebody like you. The hours aren't bad, and it pays well, so I hear."
"It sounds great. Oh my god, Paul, thank you so much! Queenie and Fred are gonna be so excited!" he squealed, 'Wow, this is great!"
"Good, I thought you'd be excited. So, after Life Support tonight, we'll go out and eat or something. Celebrate my getting a new room mater, and your, hopefully, new job."
"Thank you so much, Paul, I'll be over soon."
"It's no problem. I'll see ya," he said, as Angel heard the phone click as he hung up.
"For the first time in a long time, I have something to look forward to," Angel whispered, as he continued to pack the past 6 years away in cardboard boxes.
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"Good morning Angel!" Queenie called into the bedroom, with Angel sitting in the center of the room, surrounded by filled cardboard boxes and plastic garment bags that glittered with dresses. He turned around to greet her, and realized that she wasn't wearing any makeup. In fact, she wasn't even wearing a dress. She had on baggy flannel pants and a fitted white tank top. Short, black hair, similar to Angel's, spiked up around her head. He didn't realize how dark her eyes were until all the makeup was off. She looked so different: almost masculine.
"I don't think I've ever seen you out of drag," he said quietly to her, shocked.
"Oh yeah. Come to think of it, I don't think you have either. It isn't a big deal, really. I don't sleep with wigs and makeup on. I haven't done myself up yet, that's all. But, I just came in to tell you that Tiff said she'd help us drive your stuff over whenever you were ready, which it seems like you are. Just let me know when you're packed, and we'll head over," she said, calmly. Her voice was still high and feminine, but it was strange to hear it coming from a man's body.
"Okay," he answered quietly. Pausing, he took a deep breath and then continued, "I'm really gonna miss you, Queenie. It's not gonna be the same without you."
"Honey, I know it'll be different, but life will go on, I promise. It's time for you to get out on your own, and it's a perfect present for your 22nd birthday. I know you're ready now. With Will, you weren't, and that's where my reservations came from. Since you've broken it off with him, you've grown so much, and I think that the only way for you to mature even more is to live on your own. I think it goes without saying, but you know that Freddie and I are always here for you. We want you to be happy."
It was hard for Angel to listen, because he couldn't stop staring at her. She was so striking without the drag on. She still looked exotic: her deep almond eyes warmed with love, her tan cheeks tinged with pink, and her black glossy hair spiked up around her head. She was radiant without the dresses, wigs, and makeup. Angel was surprised. "I know. I love you guys," he said, sincerely, then paused for a minute. "God, it's so weird to see you without all that stuff on."
"Angel, baby, it's still me," she reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder as she had so many times before.
"I know, I know, but you're like my mom, right? And when mommy looks like a man, it's weird," he giggled.
She laughed loudly along with him, "Let me know when you're ready, Ang, and we'll head out." She smiled and closed the door behind her.
Still shocked, Angel continued to pack his belongings. He knew it was time for him to move on to the next phase of his life.
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At exactly 4:53 P.M on June 6th, 1996, according to the glowing digital clock in Tiff's car, all of Angel's belongings were successfully moved into the extra bedroom in Paul's apartment. Queenie and Fred had said tearful goodbyes, and the next stage of Angel's life had begun. Sitting in the center of the tiny bedroom, he began to unpack the boxes of various belongings, mostly clothes and shoes. Looking around, he realized that there probably wouldn't be enough room for all of his clothes in the small wardrobe closet and dresser drawers he was given. Angel was never one to complain, or to wish for things he didn't have, for that matter, but when it came to his clothes, everything had to be perfect.
"Paul," he called out into the bedroom across from his, "Can I talk to you for a minute?"
"Sure," Paul responded, coming into the room, nearly tripping and killing himself on a plastic garment bag.
"Now I'm not one to complain," he began, "but I have a rather large wardrobe, and no intentions of narrowing it down. So I was wondering if, you know, there would be any way that I could get some, uh, extra storage space?" he asked, feeling slightly guilty.
Paul giggled in response. "I figured you'd have a rather large wardrobe. There's an extra wardrobe closet in the living room, actually, so you can use that. I used to have it in my room, but it seems as though my clothing collection is pathetically small."
Angel laughed along with him. "By the time I'm done here, you will have more clothes, I guarantee it." He continued to unpack the dresses, hanging each one neatly inside the chest in his room, and the one in the living room. He never realized how truly extensive his wardrobe was. After what seemed like hours of packing, Paul came into the bedroom to inform him of the time.
"Ang, it's 5:30, you need to get to your interview at the makeup store."
"Oh my god, I totally forgot about that!" Angel exclaimed, getting up off the ground and dusting off his clothes. His clothes were slightly rumpled, and he had no makeup on. Hardly looking the part of a makeup counter employee, he knew he had to change. "10 minutes, that's all I'll need, and then we can go, I promise."
"Okay, but I don't want you to be late. You need to make a good first impression."
"I know, I know. 10 minutes, I swear," he said, then quickly shuffled through his wardrobe to find a suitable dress to wear.
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Angel had never gotten ready so quickly. Usually, he took 30 minutes, minimum. Getting ready in 10 was definitely a personal best. He and Paul arrived at the store just as the sparkly watch on Angel's wrist read 6:00. "Perfect timing," Angel stated, as they walked in.
Pounding techno music shook the small store, and both men could feel the music pulsating through their bodies. A petite, young woman with spiky purple hair approached them. Heavy black eyeliner rimmed her blue eyes as she extended her hand to introduce herself. "Hi, I'm Melanie. Let me guess, you must be Angel." She pointed to the drag queen, who smiled and nodded at her. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Angel. And you're Paul, the one my assistant manager spoke to this morning." He nodded and shook her hand as well. "It's nice to meet both of you. We just closed for the day, so let me turn down this ridiculous music and lock the doors."
Immediately, the pulsing music was turned down to a much more tolerable level. "Sorry about that," Melanie continued, "My employees keep saying that this is the new wave of music, and they insist on playing it. It's not too bad since I'm in the back most of the time anyway." She smiled as the three of them enjoyed the peacefulness of the quieter music. "So, Angel, I guess we should get this interview under way, huh?"
"Yeah, that sounds good."
"Do you have any work experience?"
"Um, I performed at a club for six years," he replied, quietly.
"What kind of club, and what did you do?" she asked, sounding genuinely interested.
"It's a drag club. I sang and danced. And I love to play the drums, too. I used to do it as a hobby, but not so much anymore."
"That's neat, Angel. So you say you worked at a drag club. Did you do your own makeup, or did someone help you?"
"At first, I had some help, but after a few months I did it all on my own. I even started doing makeup for this other queen, Dolly. She totally did not know how to work the pink lipstick with dark liner. It's one of those looks that you really need to have the right face to pull off, and her lips were all wrong. It didn't look good with her eye color either. I fixed her up real good. I got compliments for how well I did the makeup on some of the other queens, and how I played up their features just right," he explained, remembering a time not so long ago when, right about now, he'd be helping all the drag queens at the club prepare for the night's show.
"Wow, okay, it sounds like you really know what you're talking about when it comes to makeup. Paul told my assistant manager that you were good. Anyway, we're really understaffed here, so I'll tell you what I'm going to do. I'm gonna hire you, but for the first two weeks it'll be like a trial job. I'll have you shadow one of the more experienced employees, and they'll help you learn the ropes. If all goes well, you'll become a full-time employee in no time," Melanie explained.
Smiling ear to ear, Angel shook her hand. "Thank you so much. I can't wait to start working."
"good, I'm glad you're so enthusiastic. We'll go over store policy, dress codes, pay, and -."
"Whoa whoa whoa," Angel interrupted, "Dress codes? What do you mean?"
"Nothing really strict. We like to look dressy-casual, if you know what I mean. Dresses are fine," she smiled, looking him up and down, noting his sparkling pink, iridescent mini-dress he was wearing, "Just don't go too over the top. No jeans and sneakers either."
Angel giggled, "I'll try my best. Thanks again, and I'll see you tomorrow."
"Bye Angel. Bye Paul," Melanie called after them as they exited the store.
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"Congratulations Angel!" Paul cried, embracing him tightly, "I knew you'd get that job. It's perfect for you."
"Thanks, honey. I'm so excited to finally have a job o my own. Besides the club, I've never worked anywhere before. The club was different, though."
"I'm so proud of you. Let's go out and celebrate!"
"Where should we go?" Angel questioned, as they walked down the crumbling concrete sidewalks, the sun setting behind them.
"The Life Café. It's only a block or 2 from here, anyway," Paul informed him.
"I've never been there before."
"You have never been to the Life? Angel, you've lived in the village for almost 6 years and you've never been to the Life? You haven't lived!" Paul exclaimed, as his eyes went wide with surprise.
"It must be good. What kind of food do they have?" Angel asked, praying that they'd have something reasonably healthy there.
"A little bit of everything. Some organic stuff, some Italian pasta, Barbeque stuff. You'll be able to find something there, I promise."
"Hmm, organic sounds good," Angel said, mostly to himself, thinking about pasta with pesto and soy meatballs. He could really go for some of that right now. "Have you ever been to Spring Gardens?"
"I think I've heard of it. It's that little organic place, right? Really cheap?"
"Not cheap. Inexpensive," Angel pointed out, firmly, "You really need to go there sometime, the food's amazing."
"Next time we go out for dinner, we'll go there. But tonight, we go to the Life. You'll like it," Paul promised, as they approached a brick building on the street corner. "Here we are!"
The door was thick and wooden, looking old, as if it had been on those hinges for hundreds of years. There were two small steps leading up to it, and Angel and Paul walked up carefully. They weren't really paying attention to where they were going as the large, oak door swung open, and a man walked outside, colliding into Angel.
Angel stumbled slightly, then knocked into the railing next to him. The man looked over and made eye contact with Angel. His amber eyes bugged out of his head as he saw the tall, handsome figure standing before him. The man was solid, not fat by any means, but he looked strong. A large, brown leather trench coat draped over his body, as a nest of long, light brown dreadlocks fell down past his shoulders, spreading out along the collar of his coat. The warmest, deepest brown eyes he'd ever seen looked at him as well, as the man blushed slightly. His eyes showed an emotion that Angel couldn't exactly pick up on: fear, embarrassment, confusion?
"Hey, I'm sorry. I guess I didn't see you," he mumbled. His deep voice had a sexy quality to it, and Angel's heart melted. This man was, by far, the most attractive thing he'd ever seen.
"That's - that's okay," he responded, looking past the man to notice another man, a skinny little twig-like guy hanging off of him.
The couple walked away, the skinny boy laughing as he held onto the tall, dark, handsome man. Sexy dreadlocks guy walked along with him, looking back at Angel one more time, before he faded into the darkness of the New York City night.
Paul looked over at Angel, raising an eyebrow. "He's cute," Paul said.
"Cute does not even begin to describe him. That is the most attractive man I've ever seen. He's not, you know, you're standard hot guy, though. There's something about him."
"Ang, he's just a guy. You'll see a million "not standard" cute guys in New York City. I'd know, I've seen my fair share," Paul explained.
"Yeah, you're right. I'm just used to pretty boys and drag queens, that's all."
"2 for dinner?" the hostess interrupted.
"Yeah," Angel responded, slightly distracted.
"Right this way," she said, guiding them to a small round, worn, wooden table. "Enjoy."
"Thank you," Paul responded.
The 2 of them looked over the menu, and almost immediately, Angel found something that sounded good: the Tofu Dog Platter. They ordered quickly, and the waitress left them alone to wait for the food.
"So tell me about yourself, Angel."
He laughed. "What do you wanna know?"
"Anything. We're gonna be living together now, and I want to get to know my room mate."
"Okay, where to start?"
"Tell me about this ex that you've been mentioning at Life Support."
"Okay. His name is William Dumott, and that's where I got the Dumott in Dumott-Schunard from. We were married, sort of," Angel explained, blushing slightly. He always got a little embarrassed and bashful when he talked about his marriage to Will.
"So you're married, huh. I never would have known that. Why did you guys break up?"
The smile and warmth on his face immediately disappeared. "It's kind of involved. But I'll tell you anyway. He used to own this store, Model Boy, and he and I worked there until it went out of business. We were really tight on money, and I had to back to working at the club full-time, but it wasn't enough money. He got a job as a "salesman," which, as I found out later, was his cover up for dealing. He started selling drugs, and then he got into drugs himself. He became kind of abusive, and I didn't know what to do. One night, I realized I had to confront him about what was going on, and I did. But I kind of did it in the wrong way. I threw out all his heroin, and he got really mad. Like, way angrier than I'd ever seen him before, and he beat me up really bad. I went to the hospital, and that was the end of our relationship. It kinda sucks that it had to end that way, because up until about the last 5 months, we had the best relationship I could ever ask for."
"Oh my god," Paul said, quietly, "I had no idea you'd been through so much."
"It's okay. Most people don't' realize it. But Will's not a bad guy. I had to go back to his place a couple of months after we broke up to get some of my things, and on my way I ran into Will and his dealer. I guess Will owed him money, and he didn't have it, so the dealer told Will that I would pay instead. And then he. you know, and that's how I got HIV. Will was with me every step of the way though. He took care of me, and he went with me everywhere I had to go. He's in rehab now, trying to quit heroin. I haven't spoken to him since he left."
"He isn't a bad guy, you're right. You sound so. sad when you talk about him."
"I'm not sad about the fact that we're not together anymore. It took me 3 years to realize that he and I weren't meant to be. I mean, I loved him, but it wasn't that kind of love that makes you want to be a better person. He didn't make me whole," Angel explained, stirring the lemon around in his ice water.
"I'm not so sure I understand."
"It's stupid, really. I'm such a sap. I sit here and I dream of falling in love. Like, fairy tale kind of love, with a prince charming and some guy who completes me. I just feel. empty. I want that feeling that comes deep inside of your heart, you know? I want to meet someone who completes me: who really is my other half."
"That's deep, Ang," Paul responded.
Angel giggled to lighten the mood. "Yeah, it does sound deep. For right now, though, I'm content with not having that, I guess. I mean, I have to be. And I also have to realize that I'm probably not gonna find that. Most people don't meet their soul mate, so who's to say I will? I'm enjoying life right now, and that's all that matters."
"You never know who you're gonna meet. Maybe it's someone you've met already."
"You're right. You really never know," Angel replied, just as his dinner was placed in front of him. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A/N: Whee! Foreshadowing. Sorry this took me so long to get up, but I've been working damn hard on it. PLEASE R/R, make me happy! Coming up next: Angel and Mimi go to an "end of the summer" social with other AIDS support groups in the area... Lots of guys = Angel having lots of fun ( hehehe. ENJOY!
Angel walked into the club, wandering back to Queenie and Fred's room. Opening the door without knocking, he entered to see Queenie and Fred, both topless, groping each other intensely.
"Jesus!" he exclaimed, as the two of them scrambled, as usual, to get dressed as fast as possible. "I need to get out of here," he thought to himself, turning away from the couple.
"Angel. I'm sorry," Fred apologized, sheepishly, as he stood up, brushing off his clothes.
"It's okay. But, I needed to talk to you both about something right away," Angel said, in a serious tone, pulling on his green zip-up tank top as he spoke.
"Is everything alright?" Queenie questioned with concern.
Smiling, Angel continued, "Yes, everything's fine. I've actually got some good news, for once," he giggled, "I went back to Paul's tonight after life support because I left something there, and we started talking. I was explaining my living situation and everything. You know, I just mentioned you guys and talked about how you were probably worried that I wasn't home yet." He paused, looking at both of them. "Although, I'm beginning to re- think that part right about now."
The couple blushed furiously as Angel continued to speak. "So, anyway, the bottom line is that Paul offered me a place to crash. He said I needed to be more independent, and that he would help me find a place to live on my own, and he'd find me a job and stuff."
Ang, you've got a perfectly good home here, and a great job. I thought you liked working at the club," Queenie said, looking slightly hurt.
Immediately, Angel felt guilty. He didn't want to make either of them feel bad. They were, and always had been, his family, and he didn't want to do anything that would make them upset. "I know I do, but I'll be 22 in like 2 weeks. I really need to get out on my own. I need to be independent."
Still seeming upset, Queenie looked at Fred, who had a proud smile on his face. "I was wondering when you'd want the independence. You do need to be out on your own, and I fully support your decision."
Angel was shocked. "I really thought you would put up an argument. I mean, when I wanted to go and live with Will, you were both so against it."
"Ang, you were nineteen. That was almost three years ago. You've grown up so much, and you're really ready to be on your own. You need to make a life of your own outside the club," Fred explained.
Agreeing, Queenie said, "He's right, baby. We will always be here for you whenever you need us. I feel like I say that all the time, but it's true. You go off with this guy, and you have fun. Build a life for yourself, and start something new. You deserve it."
Beaming, Angel replied, "Thank you guys so much. I really mean that."
"We'll help you move as soon as you want," Fred said, as Angel began to leave the room. It was late, and he was tired, yet he was buzzing with exhilaration. A new chapter of his life was about to begin.
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The next morning, Angel awoke surprisingly early. On days where he didn't have to work, he rarely woke up before 12. Today, however, he was up at 9, ready to pack up his belongings. Bags and bags that held piles of sparkly dresses were displayed all over the floor of his small bedroom. He had decided that the best packing method would be to arrange the wardrobe by season, and then by color. Wigs were spread out around the carpet floor, as well as various tubes of lipstick, eye shadow, and tons of pictures from over the years.
It was hard to believe that today would be his lat day waking up in the club with Queenie and Fred. Moving didn't feel this final when he moved in with Will. That was, possibly, because he knew deep down that it wouldn't be permanent. He had loved Will, but the love wasn't that deep, rest-of-your-life kind of love. He knew it all along, but refused to admit to himself.
Taking each picture and placing them back in a large envelope, already bursting at the seams with photographs, he reminisced about each one. There was a photo of him and Will outside Model Boy, after they'd been together for only a few weeks. Will was holding Angel in his arms, smiling widely and brightly. "That was a long time ago," Angel whispered, sticking the photograph back in the envelope.
Another picture showed Angel and Queenie in Dancing Queen, posing with Tiff in some fabulous new dresses. Angel looked very young in the picture: He couldn't have been any older than 18. He still looked younger than 22, but his face possessed a child-like innocence back then. "And I thought life was tough then." he mumbled, placing that photo behind the one of him and Will.
Each photo told a story about Angel's past, all of them creating a stack of memories from his life since he'd lived with Queenie. The last picture in the stack, however, was much older, and more worn looking. It wasn't on the same high-quality photo paper as the rest of the pictures were. This photograph was slightly yellowed, the corners curling up a bit. He knew immediately which picture it was, as he could barely bring himself to look at it.
The bright, happy 14 year old Angel smiled up at the 22 year old drag queen. He was wearing a worn flannel shirt and tight blue jeans, with brand new, white sneakers. "The fashions of the late 80's," Angel mumbled, shuddering as he continued to study the picture further. Papi was standing next to him in a masculine button-up plaid shirt and deep green pants. Timberland hiking boots covered his feet, and he held a hiking stick in one hand, the other arm placed possessively around his wife. Mami stood smiling shyly next to him, her beautiful black hair blowing in the wind. Even she was dressed casual on that day, as the 3 of them had hiked up a mountain in Peru that morning. She had a black tunic on and a pair of faded, light blue jeans. She wore a pair of exercise sneakers. Both of her arms were occupied: One loosely around her husband's waist, and the other squeezing her young son's shoulders.
Tears dripped from his long eyelashes onto the picture, making tiny water spots on the blue sky. He hadn't even looked at this picture since the day he packed up and left his home that cold, winter night in February when he was 16 years old.
"I miss her," he whispered, hugging the picture closely to his chest. "Mami," he continued, "I hope you're proud of me. I hope I've made you proud to be my mother."
Looking at the picture on time, he stuck it back in the envelope and shut his eyes. He'd been through a whole lot since that picture was taken. He hadn't even truly realized how much his life has changed since then. Mami was dead; Papi was out of the picture, and long gone; he had new "parents" who loved him more than anything; he had been married; he had gotten AIDS, and now, he was about to move out on his own. He really was growing up.
"It's been an interesting 6 years," he said to himself, as he continued to pack.
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The clock finally struck eleven, and Angel jumped up to call Paul. He figured that calling any earlier would be rude.
"Good morning!" Paul chirped into the phone. Angel could almost hear the smile his voice.
"Paul? Hey, it's Angel."
"Hello, Angel. How are you?" he asked, his voice still bright and cheery.
"I'm alright, I just need to ask you something."
"Sure, what's up?"
"Um, I talked to Queenie and Fred last night, and they're letting me move out. I just wanted to make sure that it really is okay for me to stay with you. I don't want to be an inconvenience, you know? And -"
"Angel, if I didn't want you here I wouldn't have asked," Paul stated.
Blushing slightly, Angel responded, "Yeah, I guess you're right. When can I start bringing my stuff over?"
"I'll be here all day, so come and go as you like. But first, I'd like to tell you something."
"Okay, sure," he replied, curious and confused.
"I was taking my morning stroll today, and I walked by this makeup store. Mac, I think it was called? Anyway, they had a help wanted sign in the window, so I went in and asked them about it. Bottom line is you have a job interview at Mac tonight at 6, right before they close."
"You got me an interview?" Angel questioned, astonished.
"I told you I was going to get you back on your feet. I wasn't just saying that. I figured a job at a makeup counter would be perfect for somebody like you. The hours aren't bad, and it pays well, so I hear."
"It sounds great. Oh my god, Paul, thank you so much! Queenie and Fred are gonna be so excited!" he squealed, 'Wow, this is great!"
"Good, I thought you'd be excited. So, after Life Support tonight, we'll go out and eat or something. Celebrate my getting a new room mater, and your, hopefully, new job."
"Thank you so much, Paul, I'll be over soon."
"It's no problem. I'll see ya," he said, as Angel heard the phone click as he hung up.
"For the first time in a long time, I have something to look forward to," Angel whispered, as he continued to pack the past 6 years away in cardboard boxes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Good morning Angel!" Queenie called into the bedroom, with Angel sitting in the center of the room, surrounded by filled cardboard boxes and plastic garment bags that glittered with dresses. He turned around to greet her, and realized that she wasn't wearing any makeup. In fact, she wasn't even wearing a dress. She had on baggy flannel pants and a fitted white tank top. Short, black hair, similar to Angel's, spiked up around her head. He didn't realize how dark her eyes were until all the makeup was off. She looked so different: almost masculine.
"I don't think I've ever seen you out of drag," he said quietly to her, shocked.
"Oh yeah. Come to think of it, I don't think you have either. It isn't a big deal, really. I don't sleep with wigs and makeup on. I haven't done myself up yet, that's all. But, I just came in to tell you that Tiff said she'd help us drive your stuff over whenever you were ready, which it seems like you are. Just let me know when you're packed, and we'll head over," she said, calmly. Her voice was still high and feminine, but it was strange to hear it coming from a man's body.
"Okay," he answered quietly. Pausing, he took a deep breath and then continued, "I'm really gonna miss you, Queenie. It's not gonna be the same without you."
"Honey, I know it'll be different, but life will go on, I promise. It's time for you to get out on your own, and it's a perfect present for your 22nd birthday. I know you're ready now. With Will, you weren't, and that's where my reservations came from. Since you've broken it off with him, you've grown so much, and I think that the only way for you to mature even more is to live on your own. I think it goes without saying, but you know that Freddie and I are always here for you. We want you to be happy."
It was hard for Angel to listen, because he couldn't stop staring at her. She was so striking without the drag on. She still looked exotic: her deep almond eyes warmed with love, her tan cheeks tinged with pink, and her black glossy hair spiked up around her head. She was radiant without the dresses, wigs, and makeup. Angel was surprised. "I know. I love you guys," he said, sincerely, then paused for a minute. "God, it's so weird to see you without all that stuff on."
"Angel, baby, it's still me," she reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder as she had so many times before.
"I know, I know, but you're like my mom, right? And when mommy looks like a man, it's weird," he giggled.
She laughed loudly along with him, "Let me know when you're ready, Ang, and we'll head out." She smiled and closed the door behind her.
Still shocked, Angel continued to pack his belongings. He knew it was time for him to move on to the next phase of his life.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At exactly 4:53 P.M on June 6th, 1996, according to the glowing digital clock in Tiff's car, all of Angel's belongings were successfully moved into the extra bedroom in Paul's apartment. Queenie and Fred had said tearful goodbyes, and the next stage of Angel's life had begun. Sitting in the center of the tiny bedroom, he began to unpack the boxes of various belongings, mostly clothes and shoes. Looking around, he realized that there probably wouldn't be enough room for all of his clothes in the small wardrobe closet and dresser drawers he was given. Angel was never one to complain, or to wish for things he didn't have, for that matter, but when it came to his clothes, everything had to be perfect.
"Paul," he called out into the bedroom across from his, "Can I talk to you for a minute?"
"Sure," Paul responded, coming into the room, nearly tripping and killing himself on a plastic garment bag.
"Now I'm not one to complain," he began, "but I have a rather large wardrobe, and no intentions of narrowing it down. So I was wondering if, you know, there would be any way that I could get some, uh, extra storage space?" he asked, feeling slightly guilty.
Paul giggled in response. "I figured you'd have a rather large wardrobe. There's an extra wardrobe closet in the living room, actually, so you can use that. I used to have it in my room, but it seems as though my clothing collection is pathetically small."
Angel laughed along with him. "By the time I'm done here, you will have more clothes, I guarantee it." He continued to unpack the dresses, hanging each one neatly inside the chest in his room, and the one in the living room. He never realized how truly extensive his wardrobe was. After what seemed like hours of packing, Paul came into the bedroom to inform him of the time.
"Ang, it's 5:30, you need to get to your interview at the makeup store."
"Oh my god, I totally forgot about that!" Angel exclaimed, getting up off the ground and dusting off his clothes. His clothes were slightly rumpled, and he had no makeup on. Hardly looking the part of a makeup counter employee, he knew he had to change. "10 minutes, that's all I'll need, and then we can go, I promise."
"Okay, but I don't want you to be late. You need to make a good first impression."
"I know, I know. 10 minutes, I swear," he said, then quickly shuffled through his wardrobe to find a suitable dress to wear.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Angel had never gotten ready so quickly. Usually, he took 30 minutes, minimum. Getting ready in 10 was definitely a personal best. He and Paul arrived at the store just as the sparkly watch on Angel's wrist read 6:00. "Perfect timing," Angel stated, as they walked in.
Pounding techno music shook the small store, and both men could feel the music pulsating through their bodies. A petite, young woman with spiky purple hair approached them. Heavy black eyeliner rimmed her blue eyes as she extended her hand to introduce herself. "Hi, I'm Melanie. Let me guess, you must be Angel." She pointed to the drag queen, who smiled and nodded at her. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Angel. And you're Paul, the one my assistant manager spoke to this morning." He nodded and shook her hand as well. "It's nice to meet both of you. We just closed for the day, so let me turn down this ridiculous music and lock the doors."
Immediately, the pulsing music was turned down to a much more tolerable level. "Sorry about that," Melanie continued, "My employees keep saying that this is the new wave of music, and they insist on playing it. It's not too bad since I'm in the back most of the time anyway." She smiled as the three of them enjoyed the peacefulness of the quieter music. "So, Angel, I guess we should get this interview under way, huh?"
"Yeah, that sounds good."
"Do you have any work experience?"
"Um, I performed at a club for six years," he replied, quietly.
"What kind of club, and what did you do?" she asked, sounding genuinely interested.
"It's a drag club. I sang and danced. And I love to play the drums, too. I used to do it as a hobby, but not so much anymore."
"That's neat, Angel. So you say you worked at a drag club. Did you do your own makeup, or did someone help you?"
"At first, I had some help, but after a few months I did it all on my own. I even started doing makeup for this other queen, Dolly. She totally did not know how to work the pink lipstick with dark liner. It's one of those looks that you really need to have the right face to pull off, and her lips were all wrong. It didn't look good with her eye color either. I fixed her up real good. I got compliments for how well I did the makeup on some of the other queens, and how I played up their features just right," he explained, remembering a time not so long ago when, right about now, he'd be helping all the drag queens at the club prepare for the night's show.
"Wow, okay, it sounds like you really know what you're talking about when it comes to makeup. Paul told my assistant manager that you were good. Anyway, we're really understaffed here, so I'll tell you what I'm going to do. I'm gonna hire you, but for the first two weeks it'll be like a trial job. I'll have you shadow one of the more experienced employees, and they'll help you learn the ropes. If all goes well, you'll become a full-time employee in no time," Melanie explained.
Smiling ear to ear, Angel shook her hand. "Thank you so much. I can't wait to start working."
"good, I'm glad you're so enthusiastic. We'll go over store policy, dress codes, pay, and -."
"Whoa whoa whoa," Angel interrupted, "Dress codes? What do you mean?"
"Nothing really strict. We like to look dressy-casual, if you know what I mean. Dresses are fine," she smiled, looking him up and down, noting his sparkling pink, iridescent mini-dress he was wearing, "Just don't go too over the top. No jeans and sneakers either."
Angel giggled, "I'll try my best. Thanks again, and I'll see you tomorrow."
"Bye Angel. Bye Paul," Melanie called after them as they exited the store.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Congratulations Angel!" Paul cried, embracing him tightly, "I knew you'd get that job. It's perfect for you."
"Thanks, honey. I'm so excited to finally have a job o my own. Besides the club, I've never worked anywhere before. The club was different, though."
"I'm so proud of you. Let's go out and celebrate!"
"Where should we go?" Angel questioned, as they walked down the crumbling concrete sidewalks, the sun setting behind them.
"The Life Café. It's only a block or 2 from here, anyway," Paul informed him.
"I've never been there before."
"You have never been to the Life? Angel, you've lived in the village for almost 6 years and you've never been to the Life? You haven't lived!" Paul exclaimed, as his eyes went wide with surprise.
"It must be good. What kind of food do they have?" Angel asked, praying that they'd have something reasonably healthy there.
"A little bit of everything. Some organic stuff, some Italian pasta, Barbeque stuff. You'll be able to find something there, I promise."
"Hmm, organic sounds good," Angel said, mostly to himself, thinking about pasta with pesto and soy meatballs. He could really go for some of that right now. "Have you ever been to Spring Gardens?"
"I think I've heard of it. It's that little organic place, right? Really cheap?"
"Not cheap. Inexpensive," Angel pointed out, firmly, "You really need to go there sometime, the food's amazing."
"Next time we go out for dinner, we'll go there. But tonight, we go to the Life. You'll like it," Paul promised, as they approached a brick building on the street corner. "Here we are!"
The door was thick and wooden, looking old, as if it had been on those hinges for hundreds of years. There were two small steps leading up to it, and Angel and Paul walked up carefully. They weren't really paying attention to where they were going as the large, oak door swung open, and a man walked outside, colliding into Angel.
Angel stumbled slightly, then knocked into the railing next to him. The man looked over and made eye contact with Angel. His amber eyes bugged out of his head as he saw the tall, handsome figure standing before him. The man was solid, not fat by any means, but he looked strong. A large, brown leather trench coat draped over his body, as a nest of long, light brown dreadlocks fell down past his shoulders, spreading out along the collar of his coat. The warmest, deepest brown eyes he'd ever seen looked at him as well, as the man blushed slightly. His eyes showed an emotion that Angel couldn't exactly pick up on: fear, embarrassment, confusion?
"Hey, I'm sorry. I guess I didn't see you," he mumbled. His deep voice had a sexy quality to it, and Angel's heart melted. This man was, by far, the most attractive thing he'd ever seen.
"That's - that's okay," he responded, looking past the man to notice another man, a skinny little twig-like guy hanging off of him.
The couple walked away, the skinny boy laughing as he held onto the tall, dark, handsome man. Sexy dreadlocks guy walked along with him, looking back at Angel one more time, before he faded into the darkness of the New York City night.
Paul looked over at Angel, raising an eyebrow. "He's cute," Paul said.
"Cute does not even begin to describe him. That is the most attractive man I've ever seen. He's not, you know, you're standard hot guy, though. There's something about him."
"Ang, he's just a guy. You'll see a million "not standard" cute guys in New York City. I'd know, I've seen my fair share," Paul explained.
"Yeah, you're right. I'm just used to pretty boys and drag queens, that's all."
"2 for dinner?" the hostess interrupted.
"Yeah," Angel responded, slightly distracted.
"Right this way," she said, guiding them to a small round, worn, wooden table. "Enjoy."
"Thank you," Paul responded.
The 2 of them looked over the menu, and almost immediately, Angel found something that sounded good: the Tofu Dog Platter. They ordered quickly, and the waitress left them alone to wait for the food.
"So tell me about yourself, Angel."
He laughed. "What do you wanna know?"
"Anything. We're gonna be living together now, and I want to get to know my room mate."
"Okay, where to start?"
"Tell me about this ex that you've been mentioning at Life Support."
"Okay. His name is William Dumott, and that's where I got the Dumott in Dumott-Schunard from. We were married, sort of," Angel explained, blushing slightly. He always got a little embarrassed and bashful when he talked about his marriage to Will.
"So you're married, huh. I never would have known that. Why did you guys break up?"
The smile and warmth on his face immediately disappeared. "It's kind of involved. But I'll tell you anyway. He used to own this store, Model Boy, and he and I worked there until it went out of business. We were really tight on money, and I had to back to working at the club full-time, but it wasn't enough money. He got a job as a "salesman," which, as I found out later, was his cover up for dealing. He started selling drugs, and then he got into drugs himself. He became kind of abusive, and I didn't know what to do. One night, I realized I had to confront him about what was going on, and I did. But I kind of did it in the wrong way. I threw out all his heroin, and he got really mad. Like, way angrier than I'd ever seen him before, and he beat me up really bad. I went to the hospital, and that was the end of our relationship. It kinda sucks that it had to end that way, because up until about the last 5 months, we had the best relationship I could ever ask for."
"Oh my god," Paul said, quietly, "I had no idea you'd been through so much."
"It's okay. Most people don't' realize it. But Will's not a bad guy. I had to go back to his place a couple of months after we broke up to get some of my things, and on my way I ran into Will and his dealer. I guess Will owed him money, and he didn't have it, so the dealer told Will that I would pay instead. And then he. you know, and that's how I got HIV. Will was with me every step of the way though. He took care of me, and he went with me everywhere I had to go. He's in rehab now, trying to quit heroin. I haven't spoken to him since he left."
"He isn't a bad guy, you're right. You sound so. sad when you talk about him."
"I'm not sad about the fact that we're not together anymore. It took me 3 years to realize that he and I weren't meant to be. I mean, I loved him, but it wasn't that kind of love that makes you want to be a better person. He didn't make me whole," Angel explained, stirring the lemon around in his ice water.
"I'm not so sure I understand."
"It's stupid, really. I'm such a sap. I sit here and I dream of falling in love. Like, fairy tale kind of love, with a prince charming and some guy who completes me. I just feel. empty. I want that feeling that comes deep inside of your heart, you know? I want to meet someone who completes me: who really is my other half."
"That's deep, Ang," Paul responded.
Angel giggled to lighten the mood. "Yeah, it does sound deep. For right now, though, I'm content with not having that, I guess. I mean, I have to be. And I also have to realize that I'm probably not gonna find that. Most people don't meet their soul mate, so who's to say I will? I'm enjoying life right now, and that's all that matters."
"You never know who you're gonna meet. Maybe it's someone you've met already."
"You're right. You really never know," Angel replied, just as his dinner was placed in front of him. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A/N: Whee! Foreshadowing. Sorry this took me so long to get up, but I've been working damn hard on it. PLEASE R/R, make me happy! Coming up next: Angel and Mimi go to an "end of the summer" social with other AIDS support groups in the area... Lots of guys = Angel having lots of fun ( hehehe. ENJOY!