Beauty King [boyxboy]

Chapter 2

"White, or grey?" I held each suit to my body for a while, letting Amber decide. "Ummm grey. Because grey brings out your eyes and you always look good in it. But then again, maybe you should try white, may be nice." I sighed, setting both suits down. At this rate, I was never going to get anything ready for the pageant, which was already starting tomorrow. We were trying to find a suit for the formal wear component, but like all our other shopping expeditions, we were having a hard time deciding.

"Bomb at three o'clock, duck!" Amber pushed me under a rack, running to hide behind a mannequin. Wha..? Then I saw. Stacy McMillan. Oh man, I was hoping not to ever have to run into her again. Ohkay, ohkay at least not for the summer...

"So," Stacy was saying, "I'm totally over January. He's not that hot anyways. I've managed to snag a college guy. He's dreamy." I zoned out a bit, not really caring about Stacy blabbing on and on. But that was until I heard the word "pageant". "...pageant. This dress would be perfect for the formal wear component!" Lola, one of Stacy's sidekicks, was squealing. "Well, it's alright. My mother got Vera Wang to design mine. Vera was totally cool about it not being a wedding dress, because you know my mom's such good friends with her. My mother totally wants me to win this Big Apple thing." Stacy mentioned coolly, and then finally they stalked off to another area of the mall.

Amber clutched my shoulders, shaking me. "Did you hear?" "Yeah," I managed to whisper, totally not thrilled. Stacy McMillan was entering a pageant. Even worse, the same one that I was.

***

I couldn't really pack at night. I was trying not to imagine what it would be like to be in the same pageant as Stacy. As if it wasn't already bad enough that someone at school was going to find out that I was entering a pageant, it had to be Stacy! Furthermore, Stacy was vicious when it came to competitions. She would stoop to any level to win. "Grrrr!" I pushed the thoughts aside, forcing myself to believe that it couldn't be that bad.

Yeah, but it would.

***

The next day, with dark circles under my eyes (because I had to spend the rest of the night deciding what to bring, and then spending the early morning cramming everything into my suitcase), I showed up at the Ritz-Carlton, where the pageant was going to take place. With suitcase in tow, I headed for the reporting counter. Without looking up, the old lady addressed me, "Ah! The handyman, are you? We need you to replace a light bulb at the ballroom!"

"Uh no," I laughed nervously, "I'm here to report for the Big Apple Beauty Pageant 2012. I'm January Costello." The lady froze, peering up at me through her glasses skeptically, then picked up the phone and punched a couple of numbers hurriedly. "Situation, Mrs Martinez!" she cupped the receiver and whispered shakily, then nodded and placed the phone down, smoothing her black pencil skirt and looking at me with pursed lips. "Please wait a second."

I nodded and swallowed, not really understanding what was going on now. I had barely settled myself on the sofa before a voice bellowed. "Yes? Mdm Ferguson? I told you not to disturb me unless it was important!" A middle-aged lady bustled through the lobby, clad in a classy and smart red and black number. She had glossy hair, and you could tell that she spent a lot of effort maintaining herself, given how her skin glowed.

Mdm Ferguson pointed to me with a shaky finger, croaking, "This gentleman here, says he registered for the pageant." Mrs Martinez looked at me pointedly then clucked, "And you called me here just for this? Probably just a prank." Mdm Feguson hurried to Mrs Martinez's side, shoving a clipboard into her line of sight. "You don't understand, his name is here!"

Mrs Martinez furrowed her brow, checked the list and turned to me, "Dear young man, what do you mean by entering my pageant? It's only meant for girls, you see. We're sorry, but you can't enter." I wasn't about to back down without a fight. "What do you mean only meant for girls? I checked the rules and regulations a dozen times but there was nothing regarding which gender was permitted and which was restricted to enter."

Mrs Martinez turned a deeper shade of red, spitting out harshly, "You have no chance of winning, do you get what I mean youngster? This is my pageant! And I will not allow you to ruin it." Determinedly, I shrugged, "We'll just have to see, don't we?" Then with a reaction that reminded me of Stacy's outburst, she shrieked and stomped away in a fit, throwing the clipboard into a bin.

"Uhh, Mr Costello," Mdm Ferguson piped up timidly, "because we thought you were a girl, we roomed you with another. The only person left who is available for you to room with is Stefon, the photographer." I nodded, understanding the circumstances. Getting my keys, I headed for my hotel room.

***

When I got to the room, The Script was blasting out from inside. I unlocked the door, then with my elbow, struggled to push the door open. Unknowingly, I stepped into the room, before my face came smack with a bare chest. "Whoa dude!" There was a flurry of action, and then the guy was halfway across the room, with a hurriedly tied towel at his waist, jet black hair dripping wet with water. He looked at me with a mixture of irritation and confusion. "Who are you?"

"Uhh," I set down my suitcase, sticking my hand out awkwardly. "January Costello, they let me room with another girl because they thought that I was a girl because I entered the pageant but when they realised I was a guy they couldn't let me room with a girl anymore and you were the only guy available -- " I babbled on and on, before the guy held a hand out to stop me midsentence.

"So they let you room with me without telling -- wait, wait you entered the pageant?!" Stefon was pacing around the room, scratching his head in frustration. "Well yeah," I shrugged. Stefon sighed, "Well whatever, I still can't believe they let me room with some kid. They said I could have the room to myself!"

I was pissed. Ohkayyy, so maybe it was kinda wrong that they let me room with him, but it wasn't like I chose to! Also I wasn't a kid! I was 17! "I'm 17." I muttered snarkily, not entirely in the best mood now. "What?" Stefon cast a semi-bored glance at me. “I said I'm 17!" I rose my voice, "And if you don't want to room with me that's alright! I'll just sleep in the corridor! What? Are you bringing a girl here at night or something?"

Stefon raised an eyebrow at me, then let his anger subside. "I'm sorry I got angry, I just didn't expect this..." "So the big reaction?" I was pretty curious. "It's because, because... Why am I even talking to you?" Then he left, slamming the door after him, making me jump. Whoa, talk about a fiery attitude.