Jared Abitol is ugly, past his prime, and desperate for love.
Years of being hyper-aware of his own looks have made Jared develop social anxiety. When you look like Jared, love isn't easy to find. Jared might not have the looks or confidence, but h...
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When Jared got the text with the address of the bar and nothing else, he wasn't sure how to feel. On Saturday evening he hung around his closet wondering what to wear and ended up picking a dress shirt and a dark blue pair of trousers. The bar was a casual setting, but at the same time, people were going to dress to impress so he tried keeping it a bit formal.
Jared drove over to the little bar downtown. There wasn't any space to park, so he had to drive down and park in the parking lot of a closed grocery store. He walked down the street before being allowed into the bar by the bouncer. It had taken some convincing and having to mention his name and why he was here to get the bouncer to let him in, so Jared was already irritated by the time he got into the stuffy bar. Its temperature was a mile different from the cool breezy wind outside. Jared slipped through the crowd, making his way to an empty table. He settled down, letting his eyes scan the bar that was lit up in dim party lights.
The crowd was noisy, and everyone was latching on or sticking close to someone else. If Jared had to take a wild guess, he would assume he was one of the oldest people here, but at the same time, he knew how bars were — letting people in and turning them away based on how they looked/dressed. Unless you proved you had some money to spend, high rated party bars wouldn't let you in unless you were good looking and well-dressed. There were probably a few people in their forties hanging around that looked nothing like their age.
Jared's eyes fluttered to the waiter that had come up to his empty seat to ask if he wanted anything. He made a small order, looking out into the crowd again when the young man left. Jared let the tip of his finger's drum a beat on the table. He was watching the stage and was glad he was wearing his glasses unless he wasn't sure he would be able to see a thing. It looked like a drag queen was doing a comedy skit on stage, but the person obviously wasn't Darnell. They were taller, bigger and had fairer skin.
"I'm Miss Anantasu."
Jared remembered Darnell saying to him on the phone after he wrote his exams on Friday. The younger man's tone had been full of excitement. Jared remembered asking if Darnell had gotten his stage name from a Japanese cartoon, and he remembered Darnell laughing and explaining that it was a Thai surname because he was part Thai from his father's side — mixed with Black and Asian — Blasian.
There was a round of applause when the current queen on stage took a bow and threw kisses at the crowd. She exited from the left, and someone with a microphone came up on stage to announce the next act for the night.
"Give it up for Miss Anantasu," the man said, getting a round of applause and whistling, Jared could feel his throat get clogged up and his heart beat faster as he keenly watched the stage for the person that would climb the stairs to it. He had a cold glass of beer in his hands, and there was a whirlwind of emotions forming in the pit of his stomach as the petit drag queen came up the stage. They had six-inch heels on, a short dress that exposed their lean legs, a big curly wig, and make-up that wasn't as exaggerated as the one on the other queens' faces. They all had - hips? Those had to be padding.
