Chapter 68: -Gyeong-Wan- Red Queens and Red Ribbons

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I stood awkwardly on the makeshift stage holding onto a big pink teddy bear as Kazuya as Amelie swayed next to me to the soft music playing. My borrowed draped red lamé dress was Grecian style yet again, my coppery long wavy wig adorned with golden ivy leaves. There was a lot of dewy gold inspired highlighter on my face, and my lips were a bronze color, as was my eyeshadow. Hanako had applied it from a special bottle full of metallic pigment, mixing it with another eyeshadow. My nails were matching as well. This time, I was barefoot and for this I'd had to be shaved. Luckily, I only had hair on my lower legs. I'd never done it before, so Hanako showed me the best way. It reminded me of shaving my face, but different. My legs felt oddly naked even though they were already naked under the dress. Whenever they rubbed together, it was the oddest sensation, like they weren't really my legs. Speaking of my feet, they also had a bronze colored nail polish to "complete the look".

I was too nervous, but this was important. We'd gone through five rounds of bingo. That included five stories of real people affected by HIV/AIDS. One of the stories had been of their mentor, and Miyuki had read it. She'd written it herself, about an important time in her life. She'd said that she felt she couldn't tell anyone that she was transgender, but knew their mentor would understand and might be the only person who understood. Not only had she understood, but she welcomed her with open arms. She said she'd felt Lady Elizabeth, also known affectionately as Lizzie, was more of a mom to her than her real mom. Not only had Lady Elizabeth guided her in gender transition, she'd also been inspirational in getting Miyuki to follow her heart. She'd went in Lady Elizabeth's steps and opened her own business, leaving drag behind in a movement which she called "growing into a woman." 

With a story like that, I had to prepare myself. I'd read over the story I'd been given. It was about someone they'd known who's mother had hemophilia and had been given a blood transfusion with HIV inside of it. It was about their friend's struggle to accept it, her personal fears. Her initial accusation that her own and beloved LGBTQ community was the cause, coming to hate them for it, but realizing that everyone was a victim in this losing battle. That she was blaming people who had no fault in this. How she still didn't accept what happened and had no one to blame, and that fact bothered her. The piece was seven minutes long. Only seven minutes, to tell this kind of story. 

A woman stood up, shouting "Bingo!" and Nikki made a grabbing motion at her bingo sheet, saying he didn't believe her. It had been too soon, they must be cheating. Everyone laughed. He claimed they must be sugar high from the cookies, and Ayane shouted that she was high on something else, making everyone laugh even more. Most everyone was eating cookies. Kazuya had held up a cookie at the beginning and explained what they were for and the donations came rolling in immediately. The one he was holding was bought right there. The donation jar had overflowed, so a fancy jar that once held macarons was employed to hold even more donations. People were donating without buying cookies. 

With much clapping, Kazuya took the big bear from my arms. He leaned over in his red sequined evening gown, his gathered light orange curls cascading over his shoulder as he handed the bear to the winner. She was someone I'd never seen before in the neighborhood. In fact, I'd never seen a lot of these people before. They weren't the usual crowd from French Cup. There were some people I knew, such as Ayane and Hiran, but most were strangers. It was a sea of different shades of red, and most were wearing red ribbon pins. I had one on also. Kazuya had pinned it on me himself, explaining its importance. I'd had no idea about it and was embarrassed, trying to hide that I'd had no clue about these ribbons before then. I think he knew, though. Lingering with me, answering my questions. 

To my left, a finger poked my hip a couple of times and I jumped. Hanako was standing there in a cascading red to white dress, Grecian like mine. He smacked an envelope into my hands, and I took in a deep breath. But, in the next moment, my wrist was being taken by a red satin glove. The material was strange on my skin, but the touch was familiar. I looked up and standing next to me was Kazuya. He smiled to me gently, and some of my nervousness went away. 

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