Love Is Ǝvil

28 I Crawled Out My Grave

It was Wednesday, when he finally found his way back to the studio. Two days off was already three too many, he was itching for some beats and rhymes and the whole creative energy of the booth had been missing from his body. Not a state he wanted to endure.

The room with the stuff from his costume was still locked and his costume was still in there. So much for cleaning it up later, that now seemed impossible. What if somebody came in while he was in there? That's a dumb thought, girl. He knew that. Everyone from the studio had been at the party, they all had seen him wearing it. So then, how would being caught cleaning it up be worse? Your stupid horny ass really needs to get out more. He didn't know how, it just was.

Regardless, he was sneaking around in the halls of the building and into the room, closing the door quietly. Not that anyone would hear or even care if they'd heard a random door shut. Still, he feared and he was compelled by it, so here he was, sneaking around his own fucking studio. He owned every goddamned thing in this building and the building itself, but he felt like a petty thief or some shit. Sometimes his life was really fucking absurd. Who's fault is that, huh? Hint: This pussy likes to wear cat ears.

Marshall checked the bag with the blouse, the skirt and most importantly the corset. Everything was still there, of course, and still folded neatly. Who would've put them in disarray? The room had been locked. Shoes, cat ears and tail as well as the wig also went into their designated plastic bags. Things like these needed a lot of different compartments, otherwise a mishap was bound to happen. For somebody who yells 'I don't give a fuck' from a stage, you give a lot of fucks. If you would put half as much care into your regular clothes, even a little gay looking boy like you could be quite presentable. Maybe then some dick would like to fuck you, not just Eminem, you know. He moved careful and deliberate, when he handled each item. This was special to him, not just some run-of-the-mill t-shirt you could ball up and toss aside. The corset was a custom product, a lot of thinking and agonizing had gone into its purchase and some skillful work as well. Not just any corset would give his body a slight but clear reminiscence of feminine lines. He was slim but still build like a man. Barely. Your ass wants men, it ain't one, that much is clear. Usually a good thing, just not for the few times when he wanted to dress in something like this.

"Hey."

Marshall flinched at the sound of a voice. He almost dropped the small case of make-up, but caught himself fast enough. He turned around. "... Denaun?"

"You're really jumpy these days", Denaun observed.

Marshall shrugged. "Pays to be on guard, you know." Bitch, shut your mouth if you ain't sucking a dick, there's only nonsense coming out of you.

Denaun frowned at those words. "You need help with that?"

"No! - I mean, thanks, but I'm almost done anyway, so ..." He shrugged again.

There was a short pause. "Can I ask you something?" Denaun hadn't moved away from the door yet, but his eyes moved all over the table and the duffle bag with all his things inside and especially over Marshall.

Who had feared something like this would happen, when he came to the studio. Not just from his closest friends, but potentially from everyone who worked here. Now thinking about it, his therapist had been right. Going to the party in this kind of outfit had been some form of coming out and he was totally not prepared for that. You rather want your boo coming in you. Maybe your friends are up to the task, slut, somebody has to fill you up soon. Now that they know, what's standing in your way? On top of it all, he had kissed and danced with Nicolas in front of everyone, which confirmed any suspicion people would have about the meaning of his outfit. You didn't need to be Sherlock Holmes to figure this one out. Hey! I wanted to say that. Don't steal my lines, fag. So he sighed and shrugged. "I rather you not, but whatever." He put the case for the make-up in the duffle bag and gathered the jewelry, he had worn that night.