The Queen Bees
Tonight, I can feel your blood pressure rise
Let me crawl up into your mind
-- Melanie Martinez, Detention
Walking down the hallway to Laith’s place, the first thing he noticed was that Laith’s gossipy neighbors weren’t there anymore. He remembered they were performers, so it made sense they’d be working on a Sunday night, when the crowd was at its largest. He took Laith’s arm as a thought occurred in his hazy mind. “Your friends are performing,” he blurted out.
“Yes, they are.”
“Can we—can we go see them?”
They held the stare.
A smile slowly tugged at the corners of Laith’s mouth, incredulous and candid. “You wanna watch them?”
“Yeah. That’d be cool.”
Laith’s smile fully formed. “Alright, let’s do it.”
***
As it turned out, each woman did something different; one was a comedian and the other was a showgirl. Their acts were entirely separate and didn’t even happen in the same place. For some reason, Theodore had thought otherwise. He was already not very bright on a good day, which practically turned his intoxicated brain into useless mush at the moment. Why would they work together? They were neighbors, not business partners.
He wasn’t doing well.
Ms. Intervention was the comedy queen; she had a permanent stand-up act five nights out of the week at one of the clubs in the Queen Bees. He remembered catching a glimpse of the name on one of the signs the first time he’d come around, but Hwan and the others hadn’t ventured any further than the Unicorn Rave.
Just as Laith had described, The Queen Bees was incredibly chic and massive; a big area with multiple rooms, which Laith called clubs, that starred different queens with different talents. The one where Ms. Intervention performed was dimly lit with red velvet on the walls and smoke lingering in the air. Booths lined the back wall and small, round tables littered the center; some had tall chairs to go with them, some didn’t. The stage was small and low, just like the ones in the movies, with a neon sign behind the microphone stand that glowed with the club’s name.
By the time he and Laith arrived, the place was already packed, without a single seat available, so they had to watch from the sidelines, standing near the back. The only problem with that was how close they were to the bar, which could get pretty loud at times and completely drown out what the comedian was saying.
On stage stood a tall, black woman in a beautiful yellow dress that hugged her midsection and opened wide all the way down her legs. Her hair was done up in a beehive with shiny ornaments that Theodore could see all the way across the room. Her makeup was also exaggerated, eyeshadow all the way up to her eyebrows, halfway up her forehead.
Laith moved in his peripherals, leaning close. “I didn’t know we were coming tonight,” he whispered. “If we’d told her, she would’ve gotten us seats up front.”
“I mean, it’s not so bad back here.”
The crowd laughed.
“When is she coming on?” Theodore asked.
“Who?”
“Ms. Intervention. When is it her turn?”
Laith pointed at the stage with a hand, palm-up. “That’s her.”
Theodore scowled. Staring at her, he took notice of the shape of her jaw and the proportions of her body, eerily similar to Laith’s neighbor’s. It was difficult to recognize her with the hair and makeup on, but that was definitely her; her voice and the way she talked gave her away. Damn, she looked incredible.
“She’s a drag queen, Theo. Both of them are.”
“Oh.”
Well, that explained it.
“I thought drag queens were men,” he commented.
“Some of them are.”
Huh. Alright, then.
Part of the first act was difficult to follow, since he’d caught it halfway through, but as soon as the topic changed, he had no trouble keeping up. The jokes landed time and time again, a consistent stream of clever puns and hilarious punchlines that put the crowd into hysterics. She was really good. Some of her edgier jokes shot Theodore’s eyebrows up, shocked at her honesty, at how open she was about her sex life and the gay men she knew. It felt subversive to be here, listening to such dirty language in the middle of a crowd that loved every second of it. His parents would’ve killed him if they knew. No, they would’ve called him a degenerate first, then killed him. Yeah. The irony wasn’t lost on him, though, that his parents didn’t condone this kind of stuff while directly making money off it. Hypocrites.
This was one of the best decisions he’d ever made.
Her exit was followed by roaring applause and loud whistling. Waving, she climbed the two steps down the stage and disappeared behind one of the curtains at its side.
With a hand wrapped around Theodore’s arm, Laith started across the room, hugging the wall to successfully avoid the crowd.
“Where are we going?”
“We’re paying her a visit.”
The door that led backstage had a bouncer guarding it, but he made no attempt to keep Laith from walking in. In fact, after passing the two of them a glance, he even stepped aside to let them through. Laith definitely experienced the DP in a much different way than most people did, or more accurately, in a different way than the people who didn’t work here. Being branded probably also helped grant him access to pretty much anywhere.
Ms. Intervention was very surprised to see them. She had her own room in the back, full of glittery clothes and feathery boas, with a big mirror and a wide desk, just like an actress. She’d been freshening up when they came in, and as soon as her eyes fell on Laith, her jaw dropped. Theodore saw it through the mirror. Before they could even say anything, she turned to look at them. “You rascal! I had no idea you’d be coming tonight. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t know I was coming either. It was Theo’s idea.”
“Oh?” She grinned. “That’s very sweet of you. I hope you liked it.”
“You’re very funny. I’m gonna think about that jockstrap story every day of my life now.”
“The magic of comedy allows me to pass my burdens onto the audience and charge them for it.”
He grinned. “I…” Oh god, should he say this? In his inebriated state, second guesses only lasted about a second. “I had no idea you did this. If Laith hadn’t told me, I would’ve never known.”
“That I’m a queen?”
“Yeah.”
She stared at him. “Boy, how old are you? You have to be an infant not to look at me and know exactly what I do for a living. I have glitter on my face twenty-four hours a day.”
“I’d just never met a drag queen before.” His shoulders raised sheepishly. “I’m pretty new to this stuff.”
Ms. Intervention glanced up at Laith. A moment later, her lips rounded into an O shape, eyebrows twisting with pity. When Theodore looked at him, he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, just Laith meeting his eyes. The smile that quickly formed there was very distrustful, though.
“You’re not alone, honey.” Her voice seized his attention again. “My parents didn’t understand me either. It took me thirty years to come out to them and another six to tell them what I do, but the fact they didn’t understand me didn’t mean no one else would. I just had to find the ones who did.”
His lips parted, mute, heart racing. What had Laith just told her?
“It can be very scary,” she continued, “but it’s also liberating. For me, it felt like breaking out of my cage. Of course, that was only the case because I no longer lived with them or needed them financially. By then, I already had my own place and a group of people who loved and supported me, so when the rejection came, I had a home to go back to and friends to embrace me. It’s different for everyone.”
He drew in a shaky breath. “How did it feel?” His voice was small, a quasi-whisper. “The rejection.”
“Like a stab in the heart. No matter how much I’d prepared myself for it, it still hurt like hell, but wounds heal. They don’t bleed forever.”
A slow nod moved his head, eyes burning.
It was time to go.
“We actually—we have another show to watch, so we should probably get going now.”
She gave him a small, loving smile. “I hope it’s the best one you’ve ever seen.” Her voice was perfectly serious, yet soft and caring all at the same time.
***
Apparently, D’angela performed at the Vapid Beasts, just down the hall. The music that blasted inside bled through the door, muffled like heartbeats, growing louder as they approached. Different from most other entrances, this one had a bouncer outside who patted them down before letting them in. The first thing that came to mind was what had happened to Qasim, the shootout and subsequent bloodbath. He still wasn’t sure if Laith knew about it.
“There sure is a lot of security here,” he commented, trying to sound inconspicuous, as if he were truly wondering why that was.
“Yeah, it’s because of the Hollywood boys.” Laith leaned in close to talk to him, speaking over the music. “Burman is very adamant about their safety. I’ll show you where they hang out; it’s this fenced off area with security out front. Here.” A hand took his arm to pull him through the crowd.
That wasn’t the reply he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t untrue either. This felt like the second time he’d tried to get Laith to mention his brother to no success. It was possible that he really just didn’t know about the circumstances of his death. If that was the case, should Theodore be the one to tell him? The mere thought twisted his stomach into knots, heart jumping into his throat. No, absolutely not. This had nothing to do with him.
The Vapid Beasts was huge, but still nowhere close to the Unicorn Rave. The stage took up a good portion of the room, with the middle part of it jutting out to form a T-shaped runway into the crowd where performers could come back and forth during the show. Smaller podiums also peppered the ballroom where half-naked men and women danced. The crowd centered near the stage, thinned out away from it, then gathered again at the opposite end where the bar was. The only tables available were in booths near the wall, back-to-back with each other, extending from one end of the room to the other. The last two booths, or more accurately, the two closest to the stage were fenced off like Laith had said, with a piece of velvet rope like the ones celebrities used and security guards in front of it.
It was only when they approached the ropes that Theodore noticed just how much of the crowd was actually only here for the Hollywood boys, disinterested in the show upstage. Well, not fully disinterested, but they did act like the performance was a secondary reason for coming here. They paid the Hollywood boys a lot more attention.
Laith brought him to the front of the line, where one of the security guards held out a hand to preemptively stop them from even thinking about going in. The guy gave Laith a much harsher look than Theodore, pointed, almost personal. Confirming they knew each other, Laith waved him off, saying he wouldn’t try anything tonight. Tonight? As in, he’d tried something before? Laith indicated Theodore with a hand, as if showing the security guard he had company, therefore, he’d behave. The guy still gave him a warning, but other than that, let them hang out near the velvet rope. Laith nodded at the booths.
It was very easy to tell which of those people were the Hollywood boys and which were their patrons. As expected, they all wore designer clothes and were very, very attractive, with fresh haircuts and manicured nails, clearly in their twenties. Their patrons were all older, even if not by much, two decades at most, in expensive clothes and gaudy hairstyles that only extremely rich people thought looked nice.
Surprisingly, the Hollywood boys weren’t all white; from a distance, Theodore could see all kinds of people, one of every type in the world. The only thing they had in common was that they were all clearly rich and handsome, but that was pretty much it. Some of them looked entertained by their partners, some looked a lot more interested in the drag performance, and some just looked bored, wrapped up in some annoying conversation with no way out of it. They glanced at the crowd every now and then, as if scoping it out, but never spent too long staring.
A couple of them took notice of Theodore, then immediately saw Laith next to him and looked away. Were they afraid of Laith too? That couldn’t possibly be the case. Given his conversation with the security guard, it was more likely that the Hollywood boys wanted nothing to do with him, not because of his reputation, but because he’d annoyed them too much. They seemed like the type of people who’d block a friend just because they’d asked too many questions that they didn’t feel like answering.
One of them, a light-skinned Asian with his hair parted on the side, elbowed the guy next to him and whispered into his ear. The recipient, a Native American with long straight hair and a sharp jaw, in response to his friend’s comment, turned to glance at Theodore, pointedly holding the stare. His attention was unwavering. Theodore couldn’t hear what the discussion was about, but he could accurately guess, as the two glanced him up and down. Done with the topic, they glanced away. Nothing came of it.
Despite how curious that was, Theodore had no idea what to make of it. He remembered how ecstatic Laith had been when he was once again in speaking terms with them, but Theodore didn’t exactly sympathize. Their notice of him made him feel absolutely nothing. The way they acted reminded him of his parents’ guests who looked at him as if he were vermin. He didn’t know them and had no way of verifying that they thought that way, of course. The only accurate criticism he could construct was that their clothes, for as expensive as they were, didn’t always look good. Shopping at Gucci didn’t excuse those gaudy patterns that obviously clashed with one another. Those were supposed to be accent pieces, not entire outfits. If his mother were here, she would’ve wrinkled her nose in disgust. All he needed to look like them was a big necklace, some tall boots and a fur coat. That wasn’t a compliment.
“So which one are you in love with?” He raised his voice so Laith could hear it over the music, safely out of earshot from the Hollywood boys.
“Uh.” Laith scowled, eyes roaming the two booths. “No one in particular, really. It’s more like stardom, I guess, wishing they’d give me the time of day and shit, you know. Feeling like I matter.”
“You don’t need them to feel that way.”
“I know. It’s just one of those things you can’t really control.” Laith’s shoulders bounced. “I get the same feeling from what I do, though, so it’s not like I need them to feel good about myself.”
“Right.” His mind whirred, puzzle pieces falling into place. “Your work for Burman, collecting her money. You’re powerful.”
He thought of the subway ride earlier, how the crowd had only stared until Laith had come close, the Great White Shark and the one who belonged to him. Marquis had said that the entire underground system knew Laith, especially the ones who wished they didn’t. He was famous, in a way. Not to mention his influential connections; the Crow, who thought him intimidating enough to try and scare his son off, and Burman, the residing chairman, the mob boss. Had Hwan been serious about that? Theodore had brushed it off as a manner of speaking then, but he wasn’t so sure now.
“That’s not all there is to it, though, right?” he asked. “People are afraid of you. They get out of your way when you walk by and keep their eyes down to stay out of trouble.” He met Laith’s eyes, dark under a scowl. “Do you hurt them or just break their things?”
Laith’s scowl deepened. “I didn’t lie to you the first time. My job is to bring back what Burman is owed.”
“And if you can’t?”
Laith cocked his head aside, eyes glancing off, red under the neon lights. “Well, I’m not the one in debt. They know what happens next.”
“You haven’t answered my question.”
His voice drew Laith’s gaze back down.
“Do you hurt people?” he asked.
“No. That’s what the dogs are for.”
Fireworks erupted from the stage, pulling excited noises from the crowd. A loud voice announced the beginning of the drag show, consequentially ending their conversation—Laith’s attention was fully seized. Colorful lights shone over his face, up at the stage, lips curled into a big smile—how could someone so beautiful be a criminal? Theodore stared at him for a minute, at the shape of his eyebrows and the angle of his nose, so delicate. He couldn’t even picture Laith swinging a bat into the glass of a display case. When the crowd cheered again, Theodore turned to watch the show.
There was so much information up on stage that it took him a while to really absorb it all, to understand that D’angela had come out with another two queens to lip sync and dance rather than actually sing any of those extremely popular songs. They had an intricate choreography to follow and words to match their lips to as best as they could. Part of what gave him trouble was how good they were are it, which had led him to question if they weren’t actually singing. What gave it away was Christina Aguilera’s very distinct voice, the way she flawlessly held those high keys.
It was only after figuring all of that out that he managed to pay attention to each queen individually and try to find D’angela among them. She looked so different that he could only tell her apart from the others by height and body type, not face. The eyebrows and hair really threw him off; they were both bright pink with glitter on them, matching her outfit, a leotard with stars. She wore knee-high boots and elbow-long gloves, hair up in a ponytail with bangs. She honestly looked like a superstar. It made sense that the Hollywood boys would want to hang out here.
The performance was jaw-dropping; those queens high-kicked and summersaulted all across the stage, but what truly blew his mind were the death drops. The first one shot his eyebrows all the way to his hairline, pulling a gasp straight from his lungs. How weren’t they hurt? The ones that followed were less impressive only because they weren’t new anymore, but he still couldn’t look away. Every time it happened, it still startled him.
Unfortunately, the tight security in the Vapid Beasts didn’t allow anyone to go backstage after the show. Only the Hollywood boys had clearance to do so, and given Laith’s reputation here, Theodore found it hard to believe they’d let him get close. A random guy off the crowd had better chances.
“I thought you and the Hollywood boys were in speaking terms again,” Theodore commented. “What happened?”
That put a strange look on Laith’s face. “When did I tell you that?”
Two years ago.
“A little while ago,” he lied. “They don’t seem to want anything to do with you, though.”
“Yeah, well.” Laith briefly glanced at the subjects of their conversation without holding the stare with any of them. “I may have done something stupid between then and now.”
“Did you hit on one of them?”
“No, of course not; I’m not that far gone yet. I just thought, you know, since I work for Burman and her office is right next to theirs, maybe, like—we could meet. It didn’t seem so crazy when I thought about it. Now I know it’s insane.”
“It doesn’t sound insane to me. Aren’t you guys technically coworkers?”
“That’s what I thought at the time. I don’t blame you for falling for it too; it’s easy to think of them as employees when they bring in so much cash, but they just rent this place. They don’t work for Burman at all.”
Huh.
“I’m assuming you went to their office,” Theodore commented, urging Laith to continue.
“Yeah. I should’ve known they never go there, ‘cause they’re always here, but that didn’t cross my mind at the time. When I knocked, it was Burman’s cousin who answered—their founder. Think of him as a CEO. I don’t know what his real name is; everyone just calls him Punjab. It’s a place in India. As far as I know, he wasn’t even born there, but…” Laith shrugged. “It was a very awkward conversation. Before I’d even said anything, he already thought I wanted to do business with him. I tried to explain that I didn’t, that I don’t even have the money for that, but what he got from it was that I felt entitled to see the Hollywood boys ‘cause I’m Burman’s guy. The longer we talked, the worse it got; he didn’t understand anything I was trying to say. He’s so rich and so used to rich people coming to him for business proposals that he just couldn’t possibly fathom why I would be there otherwise. It was like money had carved this massive chasm between us without a middle ground. It was bizarre.”
“Isn’t Burman richer than him?”
“Yeah. We’ve never failed to understand each other like that, though; Punjab’s just weird. I don’t know what he told the Hollywood boys, but ever since that conversation, they’ve been looking at me like I’ll kidnap one of them at the drop of a hat. I don’t know. They’re probably traumatized.”
Yeah, they probably were, but not for that reason.
“So now you’re blacklisted.”
“Pretty much.”
A server cut through the crowd with a silver tray full of colorful drinks. The bouncer let them through the velvet rope to give the Hollywood boys their orders.
“It doesn’t matter,” Laith finally concluded, staring at them. “You’re better than all of them combined.”
“Oh, yeah?”
Green eyes found him through the flashing lights, pink and blue. A smirk slowly cut through Laith’s face. “Yeah. I’ll spell it out for you later, show you what I mean. You’ll never forget it.”
***
Lying in a bed of flames, he asked Laith to hit him. It came out of nowhere, an urge that blossomed from a small slap on the side of his thigh, done mostly out of excitement, the sound of a firm grasp as Laith settled between his legs. He’d said it without thinking, an arm strewn over his eyes, chest housing a vicious feeling—hit me harder. Always good, Laith complied, slapping him once, nice and sharp. The sting traveled right between his legs, knees shooting both feet up, lip seized between his teeth. Again, again, he’d urged, drowning in an addictive need to feel his skin burn. His orders were carried out with the utmost pleasure.
Laith’s surprise manifested in his speech, words pressed against Theodore’s jaw, lips dragging across his skin. He teased him for it, whispering confessions into his ear, how he’d never thought Theodore would be into something so dirty, so rough—a boy like him. His nails dug into Laith’s back, thighs stinging with each slap, open-palmed and precise. It was different, a degrading form of excitement, just one layer away from utter shame, driven home by Laith’s judgment. He liked it, how lowly Laith spoke of him, how corrupt it made him feel.
He wondered what his dad would think about this, the fact he liked getting spanked after all, cock pulsing every time Laith’s hand came down. The knowledge he was quite literally getting off on something that had ruined Ryan’s life was almost enough to push him over the edge.
***
When he woke up, he found himself carefully wrapped in Laith’s arms, blanket soft and warm over his shoulders. This was the first time in a long time that he’d actually fallen asleep at night. He breathed in tobacco and amber, reveling in the peace that surrounded him—every morning should start like this. His thighs ached, the result of last night’s indulgences, but he really didn’t mind it; jogging around campus every day used to give him the same feeling. At this point, it’d been missed. He didn’t remember the end of last night, how they’d gotten back to Laith’s place or how he’d fallen asleep in his arms, but he was sure Laith’s sobriety had guided him through it all.
A quick peek over Laith’s shoulder allowed him to glance at the alarm clock—10:15 a.m. Oh my god, ten fifteen?! His heart raced, blood growing cold—he’d already missed two classes and was on his way to miss another one. Could he make it before eleven? Sure, but that wouldn’t guarantee his presence. Realistically, he’d already been marked as absent. Shit.
Leaving the comfort of Laith’s presence, especially at a moment as serene as this, was the definition of a crime. Every move broke his heart, elbow propping him up, hand touching Laith on the face. The way he lay, half over Laith, pushed Laith to roll onto his back. A breath drew into his lungs, chest expanding with it, under the weight of Theodore’s body. Still, he barely stirred. Fingers tightened the grip on his jaw, Theodore’s face an inch from his own.
“Hey,” he whispered, “I have to go.”
Laith finally stirred, eyes cracking open just a slit. No words came from him, no retaliation or protest, so Theodore leaned down for a kiss. It was quick yet sweet, a heartbroken farewell.
As soon as they parted, three words shot up his throat so suddenly that he almost said them, a reflexive response, the natural progression of this moment—I love you—but they weren’t there yet. Holy shit, they were nowhere close to something so loaded, so heavy. It scared him just how easily he’d almost said it, grenade hanging off the tip of his tongue. He stared at Laith with big eyes, speechless. Terrified out of his mind, he left the bed.
“When does your last class end?” Laith’s voice was quiet, husky with sleep.
“At three,” he spoke while picking up his clothes from the floor, head banging all of a sudden, shooting a horrible pain across his skull. Oh right, the hangover; he’d almost forgotten about that. “Why?”
“I’ll be working at that time. I leave around eight, sometimes nine.”
With his underwear back on, he glanced at Laith. “Okay.” He wasn’t sure where this was going.
“If you wanna hang out, I mean.” A hand came up to rub one of Laith’s eyes. He was still half-asleep. “I, uh—I’d like to see you tonight, I guess is what I’m trying to say.”
Oh. His heart fluttered—really? A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, small, the ghost of disbelief. “Okay, yeah, that’d be nice. I’ll come by around the time you’re done, then.”
Laith nodded.
Theodore had had no idea he’d have something to look forward to after class tonight.
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