Chapter 37: Contact
"I don't know, it seems a bit too. overdone, don't you think?"
"Not at all, honey! Look at me. I know my makeup, and I know this looks good on you. I would never steer you in the wrong direction. It's bold, but it makes your lips look so much fuller. Just trust me on this one."
"Well, I guess. I'm not used to anything to wearing anything this. exotic, that's all," the customer said, examining her bold, shiny red lips in the mirror. Her makeup was bland, boring and traditional before Angel got to her. Now, she looked much better in Angel's opinion.
"It looks amazing. All you do is get this," he said, handing her a tube of red lipstick, "and put on some of this," he handed her a clear tube of gloss, "every couple of hours."
"Thanks. Wow, you really know what you're talking about."
"I told you. Us queens know what we're doing. Well, most of us, anyway," he laughed, "Anything else I can help you with today?"
"Nope, I think that's it. Thank you. Take care."
"You too, sweetie. Come back anytime you want anything."
"Will do. What's your name again?"
"Angel."
"Okay, Angel. I'll remember that," she said, smiling as she left the store.
Angel smiled as he heard the bell on the door clink as it closed. He absolutely loved his new job. Sighing with a big grin on his face, he threw out the tissues he had used on his last customer, and looked at the clock. "6:00 on the dot," he said out loud, then proceeded back to the storage room to find Melanie.
"Hey Ang!" she greeted, "How was work today? Did you have fun?"
"Mel, I must tell you, the last 3 months have been so much fun. I couldn't ask for a better job. Doing makeup is what I do best!" he squealed, hugging her.
"So I've heard. I've actually gotten some calls from some customers who were very happy with your help. That's never happened, in the past 3 years that I've been managing the store. It's been a pleasure having you work here, and I'm glad you're enjoying yourself. You get the whole weekend off, since its labor day, so I'll see you on Tuesday then. Have a nice weekend, by the way."
"You too honey! Thanks!" Angel called, as he dashed out of the store, ready to run back to the apartment to get changed. He had fun plans tonight.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Paul! What time does it start?" Angel asked, as he walked into the home, panting. He had never run so fast in heels in his entire life. He knew he would need at least an hour to get ready, if not more.
"The group is meeting at 8, and then we're heading out. Will you be ready?"
"I hope so. I ran home, literally. Let me tell you, honey, it is not easy to run in these shoes!" he exclaimed, pointing to the white stiletto boots he was wearing. "Where is it taking place, and who's gonna be there?"
"It's just a social, dance kind of thing with 2 other AIDS support groups in the area. It's only about a block or 2 from here, in some old apartment building. Lots of dancing, music, and a whole bunch of people. The other support groups are a lot bigger than ours, from what I hear. A few friends of mine run the groups, and we've been meaning to get together for a while. It should be fun."
"Definitely. I'm so excited. I'm really in the mood for some fun. Plus, Mimi said she'd come, too, so we can hang out more. I've been seeing her a lot lately, and we've been having a great time!" Angel exclaimed, retreating back to his room to pick out a suitable outfit for tonight's party.
"Yeah, she's been at quite a few of the meetings. Watch out for her, though, Angel, I worry about her sometimes," Paul said, cracking his knuckles.
"I worry about her too, but she's stubborn as all hell. She's not gonna listen to me, even if I do tell her to stop. But I figure if, while I'm around her, she's not doing anything bad, then that's the best I can do. She'll be there tonight, and she won't do anything that I don't approve of, I promise."
"You've grown up since I met you. You make me proud to say that you're a part of Life Support."
Angel grinned from ear to ear and hugged Paul. "Thank you. I really feel a lot more mature now." He looked at the watch on his wrist and his bugged out of his head. "Oh my god, I have a lot of work to do! Come in and get me before you leave."
"Will do," Paul responded, and shut the door behind him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"SHIT!" Angel cursed out loud, looking through his closet of "fall" clothes. He had a skimpy little denim outfit he could wear, but he wasn't in the mood for denim tonight. It was too itchy.
Shuffling madly through the sparkly sea of fabric, he finally found something suitable: a black tube top, with a short, black mini skirt and knee-high boots. A shoulder length, layered blonde wig would go perfectly. This was one of the first outfits he and Will had picked out together at Dancing Queen, and it had always been one of Angel's favorites. However, it wasn't the kind of outfit that he could wear every day: it was much fancier, and better suited for clubbing, dancing, or an evening on the town. He figured that it would be perfect for the party.
Placing the wig perfectly on his head, he brushed it gently, the wire bristles getting all the tangles out. His makeup was soft and feminine: light, smudged eyeliner, shimmering pink cheeks, and sheer, glossy lips. He didn't want to look like an overly made-up tramp. There were a lot of people he wanted to make a good first impression on, and there was nothing worse than going completely over-the-top.
Glancing at his watch, he realized that he had approximately 5 minutes before it was time to go. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, studying himself. Sighing, he spoke out loud. "I'm not gonna waste my time waiting to fall in love. I have HIV and my days are numbered. Tonight, I am going out and partying, and I'm gonna have fun." He smiled and winked at his reflection. "You look good, girl."
"Ang, time to go!" Paul called from the living room.
"Yeah, Angel, don't take all day in there!" Mimi told him, from outside his door.
"This will be fun," he said, as he shut off the lights and headed out with Paul and the rest of the life support group.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The group arrived to loud, banging music and lots of cheap, strobe lighting. Angel leaned over to Paul, just before the entered, asking, "I thought this was gonna be a social, not a rave."
"It's a dance. I guess this is how they run it," Paul responded shrugging his shoulders. He opened the door, letting the crowd in as he trailed behind them.
A techno remix of "Like a Prayer" blasted from the cheap speaker system as Angel and Mimi, holding hands, walked towards the dance floor. The scene was like something straight out of Club Tran, only there were more people, but less was drag queens. People bumped and grinded up next to each other; men with men, women with women, and women with men. He'd never seen such a melting pot of people blended together. He truly felt at home. Turning to Mimi, he smiled, "Ready for fun?"
"You bet!" she squealed, as they parted ways to go do their own thing for the remainder of the night.
Looking around, Angel stepped on the dance floor, prepared to dance on his own. He'd never doubted his dancing abilities, and he couldn't wait to be on the floor, letting the music rip through his body, feeling the beat from within him. It had been so long since he'd truly gone out dancing when he hadn't had to perform first. It was a part of his past that he really missed, and he was glad to be doing it again.
His hips swayed to the beat, eyes closed, as he let the music overtake him. It took an arm around his waist to break his trance. A small transvestite who was even shorter than Angel pulled Angel's body against herself. The two danced wildly together: groping, touching, and kissing. The song ended, and the brief pause was enough for them to introduce themselves.
"I'm Sheila," the drag queen told him. She looked so young: she couldn't have been over 20. She was absolutely stunning: piercing green eyes looked at Angel, rimmed with blue eye liner, and her lips lined with deep red lip liner. Stretchy, sparkling fabric hugged her small, thin body, showing off her long legs slim torso.
"I'm Angel."
"Angel, huh? Well, I'll save you another dance for later on," Sheila responded, and winked at him. He was thrilled. For the longest time, he'd been with only one person, and no he could truly enjoy the feeling of being a single, gay man in New York City. The possibilities were endless.
Another song started up, this time one that he was unfamiliar with. Nonetheless, he still twirled around and danced as if he knew every word. Another man came up and began to dance with him. This guy was the polar opposite of Sheila, and he looked little like Will. Brown spiky hair stood up on his head and vibrant honey colored eyes stared him down as they danced, never breaking eye contact. His body pressed up against the mystery man, groping and kissing him just like Sheila. It seemed that the song ended rather quickly, but before they parted ways, the man wrote something on crinkled piece of notebook paper, and handed it to Angel. "Brock 241-8594."
"Can I have yours?" he asked, his voice much higher than Angel had anticipated. He handed him another piece of wrinkled paper and a pen. Scribbling it down neatly, Angel gave him the paper and pen back, smiling at him.
"Call me," Angel said, as the two parted ways.
It was like that all night long: by the time the DJ announced that the even would end in about 30 minutes, Angel had exchanged about 15 phone numbers, and he was thrilled that he had so many potential dates. After wandering the dance floor for a bit, he finally found Sheila again. She waved him over and they danced again, their bodies getting even closer than before. They gazed into each other's eyes, lots in the mindless, pounding music, and in each other. The song stopped abruptly, and Sheila tugged playfully on the bottom of Angel's skirt. "Come on," she whispered.
Gripping tightly onto Sheila's hand, Angel followed her to a shut door. They opened it and saw that there was a small closet that was reasonably empty. They glanced at each other, then back at the closet. "Could we.?" Sheila asked, assessing the space.
"I think we could," Angel replied, pulling Sheila into the closet and shutting the door.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Their lips were pressed together, tongues exploring each other's mouths. Angel's tube top was already off, as was Sheila's halter top. The boots on both their feet had long since been taken off, ad the skirts were coming next. Sheila's hand traveled down the side of Angel's body, finally finding its way under his skirt.
Suddenly, Angel pulled away. "I'm positive," he said, breathing heavily.
"Me too," she replied, as she began to slip his skirt down his legs.
"I just wanted to -."
"Shut up and kiss me," Sheila whispered, as she crushed her own mouth with Angel's.
his skirt was off now, and he began to slip Sheila's off, too. She began to kiss Angel down his body, moving to where the skirt once was. It felt so good, after so long, to be able to do this and not have any ties to his partner. Once he had reciprocated the favor, and the deed had been done, they would leave the closet, maybe meet a few more times, and that would be it.
Angel moaned in pleasure as he and Sheila continued the act of promiscuity.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sweaty, panting, and tired, the two had finally finished what they had wanted to accomplish, and were now beginning to get dressed again. Angel pulled a slip of paper out of the pocket of his skirt and ripped off a piece of it.
Scrawling something quickly on the small scrap, he handed it to Sheila as he exited the storage close. "Call me sometime," he said, winking at her.
"I will." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: Hope you all enjoy this chapter. I'm really liking where everything is going, and it all seems to be falling into place. More should be up shortly, and thank you to all you loyal readers. I love you all (
"I don't know, it seems a bit too. overdone, don't you think?"
"Not at all, honey! Look at me. I know my makeup, and I know this looks good on you. I would never steer you in the wrong direction. It's bold, but it makes your lips look so much fuller. Just trust me on this one."
"Well, I guess. I'm not used to anything to wearing anything this. exotic, that's all," the customer said, examining her bold, shiny red lips in the mirror. Her makeup was bland, boring and traditional before Angel got to her. Now, she looked much better in Angel's opinion.
"It looks amazing. All you do is get this," he said, handing her a tube of red lipstick, "and put on some of this," he handed her a clear tube of gloss, "every couple of hours."
"Thanks. Wow, you really know what you're talking about."
"I told you. Us queens know what we're doing. Well, most of us, anyway," he laughed, "Anything else I can help you with today?"
"Nope, I think that's it. Thank you. Take care."
"You too, sweetie. Come back anytime you want anything."
"Will do. What's your name again?"
"Angel."
"Okay, Angel. I'll remember that," she said, smiling as she left the store.
Angel smiled as he heard the bell on the door clink as it closed. He absolutely loved his new job. Sighing with a big grin on his face, he threw out the tissues he had used on his last customer, and looked at the clock. "6:00 on the dot," he said out loud, then proceeded back to the storage room to find Melanie.
"Hey Ang!" she greeted, "How was work today? Did you have fun?"
"Mel, I must tell you, the last 3 months have been so much fun. I couldn't ask for a better job. Doing makeup is what I do best!" he squealed, hugging her.
"So I've heard. I've actually gotten some calls from some customers who were very happy with your help. That's never happened, in the past 3 years that I've been managing the store. It's been a pleasure having you work here, and I'm glad you're enjoying yourself. You get the whole weekend off, since its labor day, so I'll see you on Tuesday then. Have a nice weekend, by the way."
"You too honey! Thanks!" Angel called, as he dashed out of the store, ready to run back to the apartment to get changed. He had fun plans tonight.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Paul! What time does it start?" Angel asked, as he walked into the home, panting. He had never run so fast in heels in his entire life. He knew he would need at least an hour to get ready, if not more.
"The group is meeting at 8, and then we're heading out. Will you be ready?"
"I hope so. I ran home, literally. Let me tell you, honey, it is not easy to run in these shoes!" he exclaimed, pointing to the white stiletto boots he was wearing. "Where is it taking place, and who's gonna be there?"
"It's just a social, dance kind of thing with 2 other AIDS support groups in the area. It's only about a block or 2 from here, in some old apartment building. Lots of dancing, music, and a whole bunch of people. The other support groups are a lot bigger than ours, from what I hear. A few friends of mine run the groups, and we've been meaning to get together for a while. It should be fun."
"Definitely. I'm so excited. I'm really in the mood for some fun. Plus, Mimi said she'd come, too, so we can hang out more. I've been seeing her a lot lately, and we've been having a great time!" Angel exclaimed, retreating back to his room to pick out a suitable outfit for tonight's party.
"Yeah, she's been at quite a few of the meetings. Watch out for her, though, Angel, I worry about her sometimes," Paul said, cracking his knuckles.
"I worry about her too, but she's stubborn as all hell. She's not gonna listen to me, even if I do tell her to stop. But I figure if, while I'm around her, she's not doing anything bad, then that's the best I can do. She'll be there tonight, and she won't do anything that I don't approve of, I promise."
"You've grown up since I met you. You make me proud to say that you're a part of Life Support."
Angel grinned from ear to ear and hugged Paul. "Thank you. I really feel a lot more mature now." He looked at the watch on his wrist and his bugged out of his head. "Oh my god, I have a lot of work to do! Come in and get me before you leave."
"Will do," Paul responded, and shut the door behind him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"SHIT!" Angel cursed out loud, looking through his closet of "fall" clothes. He had a skimpy little denim outfit he could wear, but he wasn't in the mood for denim tonight. It was too itchy.
Shuffling madly through the sparkly sea of fabric, he finally found something suitable: a black tube top, with a short, black mini skirt and knee-high boots. A shoulder length, layered blonde wig would go perfectly. This was one of the first outfits he and Will had picked out together at Dancing Queen, and it had always been one of Angel's favorites. However, it wasn't the kind of outfit that he could wear every day: it was much fancier, and better suited for clubbing, dancing, or an evening on the town. He figured that it would be perfect for the party.
Placing the wig perfectly on his head, he brushed it gently, the wire bristles getting all the tangles out. His makeup was soft and feminine: light, smudged eyeliner, shimmering pink cheeks, and sheer, glossy lips. He didn't want to look like an overly made-up tramp. There were a lot of people he wanted to make a good first impression on, and there was nothing worse than going completely over-the-top.
Glancing at his watch, he realized that he had approximately 5 minutes before it was time to go. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, studying himself. Sighing, he spoke out loud. "I'm not gonna waste my time waiting to fall in love. I have HIV and my days are numbered. Tonight, I am going out and partying, and I'm gonna have fun." He smiled and winked at his reflection. "You look good, girl."
"Ang, time to go!" Paul called from the living room.
"Yeah, Angel, don't take all day in there!" Mimi told him, from outside his door.
"This will be fun," he said, as he shut off the lights and headed out with Paul and the rest of the life support group.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The group arrived to loud, banging music and lots of cheap, strobe lighting. Angel leaned over to Paul, just before the entered, asking, "I thought this was gonna be a social, not a rave."
"It's a dance. I guess this is how they run it," Paul responded shrugging his shoulders. He opened the door, letting the crowd in as he trailed behind them.
A techno remix of "Like a Prayer" blasted from the cheap speaker system as Angel and Mimi, holding hands, walked towards the dance floor. The scene was like something straight out of Club Tran, only there were more people, but less was drag queens. People bumped and grinded up next to each other; men with men, women with women, and women with men. He'd never seen such a melting pot of people blended together. He truly felt at home. Turning to Mimi, he smiled, "Ready for fun?"
"You bet!" she squealed, as they parted ways to go do their own thing for the remainder of the night.
Looking around, Angel stepped on the dance floor, prepared to dance on his own. He'd never doubted his dancing abilities, and he couldn't wait to be on the floor, letting the music rip through his body, feeling the beat from within him. It had been so long since he'd truly gone out dancing when he hadn't had to perform first. It was a part of his past that he really missed, and he was glad to be doing it again.
His hips swayed to the beat, eyes closed, as he let the music overtake him. It took an arm around his waist to break his trance. A small transvestite who was even shorter than Angel pulled Angel's body against herself. The two danced wildly together: groping, touching, and kissing. The song ended, and the brief pause was enough for them to introduce themselves.
"I'm Sheila," the drag queen told him. She looked so young: she couldn't have been over 20. She was absolutely stunning: piercing green eyes looked at Angel, rimmed with blue eye liner, and her lips lined with deep red lip liner. Stretchy, sparkling fabric hugged her small, thin body, showing off her long legs slim torso.
"I'm Angel."
"Angel, huh? Well, I'll save you another dance for later on," Sheila responded, and winked at him. He was thrilled. For the longest time, he'd been with only one person, and no he could truly enjoy the feeling of being a single, gay man in New York City. The possibilities were endless.
Another song started up, this time one that he was unfamiliar with. Nonetheless, he still twirled around and danced as if he knew every word. Another man came up and began to dance with him. This guy was the polar opposite of Sheila, and he looked little like Will. Brown spiky hair stood up on his head and vibrant honey colored eyes stared him down as they danced, never breaking eye contact. His body pressed up against the mystery man, groping and kissing him just like Sheila. It seemed that the song ended rather quickly, but before they parted ways, the man wrote something on crinkled piece of notebook paper, and handed it to Angel. "Brock 241-8594."
"Can I have yours?" he asked, his voice much higher than Angel had anticipated. He handed him another piece of wrinkled paper and a pen. Scribbling it down neatly, Angel gave him the paper and pen back, smiling at him.
"Call me," Angel said, as the two parted ways.
It was like that all night long: by the time the DJ announced that the even would end in about 30 minutes, Angel had exchanged about 15 phone numbers, and he was thrilled that he had so many potential dates. After wandering the dance floor for a bit, he finally found Sheila again. She waved him over and they danced again, their bodies getting even closer than before. They gazed into each other's eyes, lots in the mindless, pounding music, and in each other. The song stopped abruptly, and Sheila tugged playfully on the bottom of Angel's skirt. "Come on," she whispered.
Gripping tightly onto Sheila's hand, Angel followed her to a shut door. They opened it and saw that there was a small closet that was reasonably empty. They glanced at each other, then back at the closet. "Could we.?" Sheila asked, assessing the space.
"I think we could," Angel replied, pulling Sheila into the closet and shutting the door.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Their lips were pressed together, tongues exploring each other's mouths. Angel's tube top was already off, as was Sheila's halter top. The boots on both their feet had long since been taken off, ad the skirts were coming next. Sheila's hand traveled down the side of Angel's body, finally finding its way under his skirt.
Suddenly, Angel pulled away. "I'm positive," he said, breathing heavily.
"Me too," she replied, as she began to slip his skirt down his legs.
"I just wanted to -."
"Shut up and kiss me," Sheila whispered, as she crushed her own mouth with Angel's.
his skirt was off now, and he began to slip Sheila's off, too. She began to kiss Angel down his body, moving to where the skirt once was. It felt so good, after so long, to be able to do this and not have any ties to his partner. Once he had reciprocated the favor, and the deed had been done, they would leave the closet, maybe meet a few more times, and that would be it.
Angel moaned in pleasure as he and Sheila continued the act of promiscuity.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sweaty, panting, and tired, the two had finally finished what they had wanted to accomplish, and were now beginning to get dressed again. Angel pulled a slip of paper out of the pocket of his skirt and ripped off a piece of it.
Scrawling something quickly on the small scrap, he handed it to Sheila as he exited the storage close. "Call me sometime," he said, winking at her.
"I will." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: Hope you all enjoy this chapter. I'm really liking where everything is going, and it all seems to be falling into place. More should be up shortly, and thank you to all you loyal readers. I love you all (