The Brooch

Daniel stands tall in the middle of the dressing room, adjusting the large bra wrapped snug around his chest. He makes sure his breasts are in the right place. One needs to be confident that the padding never hits the floor. The incandescent lights around the mirror flicker dimly, giving the space a soft but erratic glow. It isn't the ideal environment to apply makeup but he's happy with his application today. His eyes are sharp with black eyeliner and his lips full and pouty with red lipstick. He looks up at a small television in the corner of the room. The new pre-show talent is performing, a comic Daniel recently discovered playing the rounds in the local bars. He's the perfect addition to the team. Naughty jokes and bits about drag queens get the audience going. The laughter he hears from the tinny speaker on the monitor says the new guy is really good. It's going to be a fantastic show.

He grabs the skull cap that lays next to his bright red wig and carefully places it on top of his balding head. Moving aside the wig, he sees the brooch he wears every night. It's a large gold brooch rimmed with diamonds. It once belonged to his grandmother and she gave it to him. He picks up the brooch and rolls it around in his hand, feeling the hard pointy edges where the jewels are set. He strains to recall that day, what had happened, what his parents told him, what his grandma said to him. He was seven years old. The memory of that day trickles slowly back to him.

*****

I wince. The pin sinks into the red dress I'm wearing. It's loose right now. I'm afraid the sharp needle will poke me. The brooch clasps with Grandma's help. I can see her face. She's smiling. It's hard to tell who is prouder. I feel giddy. Anxious. Waiting to walk down the runway, Grandma's hallway. I can tell she's excited to let me go.

"Is it done now?" I hear myself ask. I'm jumping in her heels. They're too big for me.

She laughs.

"Be careful Daniel. You don't want to trip on the dress."

"I'm ready!" 

She fumbles with my dress one last time.

"Of course you are! Off you go." The dress is snug. I take a step. The shoe feels like it wants to break. I steady myself right away. Another step. It's easier this time. I feel confident. I feel like a model. I move forward gracefully, like the models on TV, to the end of the runway. Turning around at the end, I drop my head slightly, pushing out my lips. Grandma leans back in her chair and claps. She's laughing. I feel strong. Beautiful. I push forward, whipping the dress around. I walk back to her.

"Can I do it again? I can do it better this time!"

She touches my face. Her hands are warm on my skin.

"Of course! I'm sure you can't get any better! You're absolutely perfect.

"Her voice and touch make me feel safe. I feel perfect. She hugs me tight and lets me go. I turn around and repeat my performance, more confident in my heels this time, reaching the end and pushing my lips out even further and making them extra pouty. She claps and laughs so hard, almost falling out of her chair. I run back, awkward in my shoes, stumble on the edge of the dress and land into her lap.

"I think you're even better at this than I was," I hear her say.

I'm proud of myself. "Really?" I tell her, feeling my face getting warmer and the light in the room getting brighter. "You think so?"

"I know so." She's smiling back at me.

"How about we try the blue dress?"

*****

Daniel gently puts the brooch back on the counter and turns around to the rack of dresses behind him. It feels like a red dress night, remembering the one he wore when he was little. He takes the shiny sequined gown from the hangers and shimmies himself into it. It feels a little tight in his ass. Probably for the best, he thinks. It would give his figure a little extra booty tonight, something that isn't discouraged.