No day but today // Biadore

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

It was cold, so cold, the sky was cloudy and foggy. If he didn't have his phone to remind him that it was the 20th of June, Roy would've sworn it was winter.

He was now at the airport waiting for his flight. To say that it was hard getting out of bed this morning, was an understatement, he was on auto-pilot mode, and even almost forgot one of his suitcases in his hotel room.

After two cups of coffee, a whole lot of motivation, and a really cold shower he was starting to finally feel like himself again. If only he had a little rum to twist his drinks with... I am such an alcoholic whore, he thought which made him laugh a little. Luckily, he was hidden behind his hood so no one had seen him cackle by himself. He really looked insane with his two huge cups of coffee, his bright blue suitcases, and this slight smile on his face.

Looking insane started to become a pattern he couldn't seem to ditch away....

Roy took his phone from his back pocket as a way to kill time. It was 9:15 am and he had at least an hour before boarding started. He hadn't had the time to check his emails and messages since he'd woken up, so he had guessed it would've been a great distraction.

First, he checked the several texts sent by his assistant, mostly work-related: she reminded him of the date and hour of his next flights, the hotel's addresses, the different contract he was meant to sign for Hurricane Bianca and the multiple interviews he'll have to do in the next couple of days. She still managed to squeeze a picture of Sammy and Dede in between all of those boring, but necessary pieces of information, which he was grateful for. They were dressed in an adorable green shirt and cap, that Roy was pretty sure he designed with some of Bianca's fabric scraps. They were twirling around so the photo was a little blur, so typical of them... He really missed home and had never been more ready to go back to California and live his old gay man fantasy in kaftan by the pool.

6 days left he reminded himself...

He finished reading emails and went to throw his second coffee of the day. The bright red notifications indicated 600 texts. He couldn't help but roll his eyes at the screen. The WhatsApp group he had with the season 6 top 4 was saturated with messages. He'd told Courtney, Adore, and Darienne that creating a group chat was such a bad idea. He knew even before making it that Courtney would send "cute" videos of koalas -or as Roy called them chlamydia holders... Because that's all they were: sluts of the animal kingdom- that Adore would probably drunk text a bunch of shit, and Darienne would without a doubt talk about what she ate for dinner.

Generally speaking, he limited his interactions with a few "ok" to every text he'd lay his eyes on, or shade here and there to spice the discussion up a little. Especially when he had too many drinks. (Who was he kidding? he didn't need any alcohol to read his friends to filth, it was more of a daily routine.)

However, today Roy skipped the different messages. He had time to kill, but 600 messages of gifs, memes, and millennials abbreviations, was more than his tired brain could handle. Plus he was pretty sure that half of this was Adore talking about how she craved Pizza, or how her horoscope really reflected her day as she was such a libra.

Even though Roy complained about the messages all the time, he secretly really loved them.

He had a reputation to maintain: he was a cold-hearted bitch without any feelings, so he didn't show how appreciative he was of these daily exchanges. This group made him feel sane, more grounded, and reminded him that at the end of the day, he was just a man in a wig in a world full of assholes.

Sometimes, he just needed to hear about Adore tangled wig, or listen to Courtney's endless voice memos about last night's trade, to know that everything would be ok. Yes, even Roy Haylock had doubts... Actually, he had a lot of them, all the time, he was just never vocal about his problems, and it was ok, he wasn't much of a sharer, he'd never been one. Nonetheless, silly messages, good laughs, dumb discussions about how Gaga was way better than Cher - and well booze- helped to shut down the voices in his head. Or how Ru would call them his inner-saboteur.