No day but today // Biadore

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"What kind of bitch shows off her crown like this?" Shangela said while looking at the object that was right in the middle of a huge library in a glass box.

"The kind of bitch who won," Roy answered coming to the living room with what seems to be a bunch of mimosas.

It was a sunny Monday morning in Los Angeles. The house was starting to be filled with close friends. Not a lot though, only the ones who wanted to come early and help Roy prepare everything.

When he received a message from Shangela, Bob, Monét, and Mariah, this morning saying they were already there, he kind of panicked a little. The house was clean, but not as clean as he wished it to be: the rest of the pizzas were still laying on the counter, he was still in the same grey sweatpants, and moreover, he was scared of what could be the reason for their early arrivals. He was a drag queen and so were his friends, surprises were to expect...the last thing he wanted was for a striper to ring at his door.

All things considered, he would've loved to see the look on his conservative neighbor's faces when looking at gay guys getting a lap dance by a man in gold tight underwear... He would still be able to see their horrified gaze, though, when his house will be filled with more fags than Micky's on a Saturday night, and for that alone, he couldn't wait for his day to start.

"Girl...You sure have a lot of books about fashion." Shangela was on a ladder trying to attach balloons to Roy's library. He knew his friends wouldn't get the memo of "don't make a big fuss out of my birthday", but again they were drag queens, it was expected, more was nothing but more.

"Wanna take a look? It might help you with that terrible fashion sense of yours..."

"Bitch, books certainly didn't help you with creativity!"

"No, but they did help me win you hooker!" Roy let out a laugh, the ones that always escaped his mouth after a read.

"Could you guys stop for a minute, the real question here is: but is it fashion though?"

Bob was standing in the opened kitchen preparing food, (and by preparing Bob meant putting things into plates and calling it a day.). He was taking the pose with his hand-drawn cape, representing his famous season 8 look. Roy was so happy Bob was able to make the trip from New York to L.A, last time he'd seen him was probably before he left to film drag race, which was definitely more than 6 months ago. Something in seeing old friends was comforting to him, he didn't know what it was, maybe the familiarity in the way they joked with each other, or the anecdote that only they knew because they were part of the events that constructed crucial memories.

"You know what is fashion, Bob?" Monét said, "Stop whatever the fuck you're doing and help me."

"Help you to? Look this good? You could never Monét..."

Both of the queens continued to argue while hanging the kitschy "happy birthday" sign, Bob claiming that it wasn't centered, and Monét saying that it absolutely was. It was so typical of them that it brought Bianca back to her small, shabby apartment in New York where they would be squeezed on the couch, some other friends sitting on the floor, trying their best not to crush someone's foot, at 4 a.m after a gig. Good old, wild times Roy thought.

"Mariah, are you gonna help or....?"

Shangela looked at Mariah who was still sitting on the couch with a mimosa in hand, sipping through the bright pink metal straw.

"Shangie, what are you talking about? she is helping... By trying her best to be passed out drunk before noon so we won't have to listen or talk to her. Good job Mariah! Keep going!" Roy said while throwing her what seemed to be paper plates.