|Don't be a Drag (Just be a Queen)
||[Sep. 29th, 2011|10:29 pm]
Characters: Kurt, Karofsky, Rachel
Based on the original 3x05 spoilers from like two weeks ago.
Kurt nervously clutched his tote bag to his hip. Loud techno music pounded in his ears, making his neck tingle just a bit. Though the single-room bar was only lit by black lights, he could still see that it was packed almost wall-to-wall with men in various stages of undress. He had heard of this place, the Spread Eagle before. He had once seen an ad for it on late-night television, and laughed at the cheesy music and half-naked men gyrating on the screen. Never in his mind had he imagined that he, himself, would be in the bar.
But, it was Rachel's 18th birthday, and he had promised to take her clubbing- just the two of them. No Finn, no Blaine, no Mercedes or Tina. Just the diva and divo, taking a night on the town. She had immediately chosen the bar for the outing, and Kurt rolled his eyes, but couldn't rescind on his promise. The Spread Eagle it was, period.
Kurt grabbed Rachel's hand, leading her up to the actual bar. The bartop was clear plexiglass, lit from underneath by sparkling Christmas lights of every color. The bartender, a tall blond with thick-rimmed glasses leaned forward, staring at Kurt's lips as he spoke. “A diet coke for me, and a cranberry juice for the lady.” Kurt yelled, barely able to hear himself over the thumping bass of the techno music.
The bartender smiled at him. “Just the diet coke and juice? Nothing extra?” Kurt smiled sheepishly and pointed to the black x drawn on the back of his hand. He shook his head no.
Once the pair had received their drinks and were happily sipping away at a shaky table, the techno stopped, and a booming voice came over the loudspeaker. “Ladies and Gentlemen, Queens and Kings, welcome to the Spread Eagle's Friday night Drag Spectacular!” It shouted. Kurt put his head into his hand. Rachel would pick the one bar in town on the one night that it had a drag show. The voice continued, “Now put your hands together for the lovely Miss Pinkie Pie!” The crowd burst into applause as a large woman with long red hair came out from the wings. She strutted up and down the aisles of the bar, singing along to “Boys Boys Boys” by Lady Gaga. Kurt bounced along to the beat of the song, admiring the convincing way that the drag queen's dress flattered her fake curves.
Rachel, apparently not aware that her cranberry juice was rather virginal, stood up and screamed, “It's my birthday! Come sing to me!” The drag queen laughed and quickly shimmied her way over to the excitable girl. Kurt caught the performer's eye, and gasped in horror as something clicked. He recognized the hooded hazel eyes, and recoiled in horror. The drag queen's eyes flashed on something like fear, but she never stopped her dance and lip-synching. Once the song had completed and the whole bar burst into applause, Kurt sneakily made his way back to the bar.
“What's her name?” He asked the bartender as the next song started and the next queen stepped out into the crowd.
“Pinkie Pie.” The bartender nodded, cleaning out a glass. “Real name is Dave. Good kid. Crazy young but crazy talented. I could put in a good word if you want.”
Kurt shook his head. “Any idea when he gets off?”
“The drag show ends at 1 AM. The performers usually leave around 1:30.”
“Tell him to meet me outside.”
“Sure thing. What's your name, kid?”
“Don't worry about it. He'll know who I am.”
By the time 1:30 AM rolled around, Rachel was already sleepily hanging onto Kurt's arm. Someone had decided it would be a great idea to buy the birthday girl shots of tequila, and Rachel had gobbled them down before anyone could ask for ID. It was truly a miracle that the two 18-year-olds had not been kicked out of the bar. Thankfully, a wardrobe malfunction had taken everyone's interest just after the incident, and Kurt had spent the rest of the night convincing Rachel not to text every man she had dated in the past five years.
“I'm sleepy.” She announced, leaning her head against the brick wall outside the bar. “Can't we go home?”
“I just need to talk to someone.” Kurt huffed, making sure she was still upright.
“I'm going to tell Blaine Warbler about this!” She shouted into the night sky. “He's your boyfriend.”
Kurt shushed her as his broad-shouldered classmate walked cautiously out of the door. “Dave.” Kurt called out, and he made his way over.
“What are you doing here?” Karofsky whispered, looking around nervously. “Who else is here?”
“Just Rachel, and she's not going to remember a damn thing.” Kurt sighed, pointing at the girl who was now proclaiming her love to the wall. “We're just out celebrating her birthday.”
“Yeah, well, surprise.” Karofsky threw his hands up in defeat. “You know my secret.”
“It's awesome.” Kurt shrugged. “I don't think I would ever have the courage to do that.”
Karofsky opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out, save for a squeaky, “what?”
“I think it's awesome. I'm certainly not comfortable enough in my skin to dress up as a different gender.” Kurt stated, scratching an itch on the back of his head. “Drag is something I always wanted to do, but never had the guts to.”
Karofsky blushed. “Thanks, I guess.” Then, with a hurried tone of panic, added, “Don't tell anyone at school.”
Kurt rolled his eyes. “C'mon, man. Have some faith.” Rachel latched onto his shoulder, whining about how tired she was. “I have to go.” he complained. With an understanding nod, Karofsky waved him off, and the two songbirds headed towards Kurt's car. Just before he turned around the corner, Kurt looked back at his classmate, who was watching them depart. “Be good to yourself, okay?” he shouted, and vanished into the darkness.