French Cup: A Neighborhood Story

Chapter 51: -Kazuya- The G.O.A.T

1950's music was making me sway my hips as I tied my frilly apron. It was impractical, made of layered organza with little ribbon bows making indentations. It could never be a real apron. It was the kind of thing you found on a doll. My drag persona, Amelie, was like a doll. 1950's housewife Barbie mixed with Lucille Ball. This apron was my final touch, putting me into character, getting my head on right. It was my license to go wild. I was no longer shy, mild-manner Kazuya. This apron said I was allowed to be whoever I wanted to be. 

Today, my dress had a strawberry pattern. Cute, little paired strawberries with their green stems along the bottom of my white and mint circle skirt. Layers of tulle were underneath, rustling when I moved. The top was off the shoulder, a straight line. Much too fancy for a normal housewife. I imagined she must be very fancy, not actually having to do any work. She was the idea of a housewife, but in reality she must be a rich person who never lifted a finger. A show, a put on, for her husband. Now that I knew about actual rich people from the hotel, this persona took on a whole new perspective. Maybe there weren't any nice rich people like Amelie.

My hips swayed as I peered behind me. I grinned, seeing Gyeong-Wan staring at me. His shoulders straightened up when he saw me staring at him. He was sitting on a stool near my work table. Had he been staring at me the whole time? He was supposed to be boxing up cookies. Tonight, we were offering a dessert bar alongside Drag Bingo. Free cookies and melted chocolate dip. I'd made them this morning and some more after we closed, rushing around. They'd been simple, and Gyeong-Wan had helped me with the last couple of batches, stirring in chocolate chips with an unsure face. So nervous. He didn't need to be nervous. It was just chocolate chips! I'd seen him cutely sneak one or two into his mouth when he thought I wasn't looking. It made me giggle inside.

Outside the door, Yash and Nikki were organizing the stage. In thirty minutes we'd have a full house. Miyuki was bringing pork dishes, agreeing to provide food. She'd argued with me over the phone that a dessert bar wasn't enough. "You remember at the drag bar when the crowd was hungry? They'd turn on us. Get all grumpy. I'm not going to allow that." So, she was making pork dumplings and pork cutlets, gravy, as well as mountains of rice. Comfort foods, so that we wouldn't have a riot. I hoped to get a pork cutlet afterward, if they didn't eat them all. Miyuki's cooking was always the best. A variety of people often volunteered to make the food, but I always loved Miyuki's. She put in more effort.

A lot of noise went up outside of the door. I paused in securing my little fruit basket earrings, my fingers at my ear. Cheers went up from Nikki, who was always the loudest one in the room. Next, I heard Miyuki's familiar voice. I started jumping in my shiny red heels. The pork was here. I turned to Gyeong-Wan, who was looking quizzically at the door.

"That's Miyuki. She brought some pork dishes. Go eat, okay? Before everyone gets here and it's a mad dash for it." I finished securing my earring and went for the other one. 

"What about you?"

"Huh?" I turned, my fingers at my other ear. He'd stood up, staring at me now with a hopeful expression. "Me?" Where was my shyness coming from? My cheeks were aglow under my makeup. 

He made his way across the room, too handsome in his gray suit and black tie. As he encountered me in my little mirror, I saw the dream come true. There was Amelie, looking like a rich housewife, and there was her rich husband in his suit, much too handsome to be real. Not like Ken to his Barbie at all, but somebody much more serious. It made my eyes go wide, my blush come in full force. He brushed a stray strawberry-blonde curl from my shoulder, exposing it. My whole body stiffened up at it. Just this simple motion was much too intimate. Making my whole body come alive. 

"Don't you want to eat?" He asked innocently, staring at me in the mirror. 

"Uh, yeah," I said dumbly, staring at him over my shoulder. He was even the right height. "But, my makeup. I don't want to ruin it."