Trying on dresses and skirts for the first time wasn’t uncomfortable, per se. It was just different; the whole Bedroom Committee was different. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen before. While everyone else signed up for the theater club or the gardening club, or got jobs at the local fast food place, I became something of a top star in the crossdressing community. I was the youngest in the club when I first joined, but the others said I looked so perfect in womenswear that I ended up being the face of the society.
My confidence grew exponentially doing drag. I blossomed, so to speak. Nights were filled with perfection, charm, curiosity. Outside of being assumed a pervert, doing drag was an outlet that made me feel powerful. Becoming head of School Festival Operations was a stern job that took all my energy, so much that the drag club section of the Bedroom Investigation Committee Youth Division felt like pure euphoria.
It was a release. Everyone was open and kind, beautiful inside and out.
Sometime after, the students at school found out about my crossdressing. I didn’t confirm or deny it, but I wasn’t hiding it in the first place, and it was quite obvious. I loved the flare, the attention, the drama, although my friend’s often took to making fun of me for it.
I was popular.
It wasn’t a problem. People swooned over me. I had friends in every club. I had my people who didn’t care about the kind of clubs I was in, people who never thought to even ask.
Like my fans.
I can’t say I know exactly where they sprung from, only that they were intensely loyal. They followed me across campus, asking for pictures, giving me gifts, checking in on me. It made quite a lot of other men jealous. What was the saying? Women love me, men wanna be me, and x-genders get gender-envy over me?
If I had a chance, I’d shake every single one of their hands.
They were all admirable in some way. The fans held so much passion in them, so much for nothing. I would have gotten bored of myself within a few days, let alone a year. The jealous men(because I had male fans, too) even had their own unique traits. At least they had the ability to just like people out of nowhere. I wasn’t stealing any girls from them, no matter how much they liked to believe I was. None of those women really knew me. None of them were actually in love with me. They just liked the idea of me, which was admirable by itself. Although it made them angry, the only person really keeping women away from them were their individual selves. And in the case of the x-genders, a few of them were fans of me too. I don't know why, I wasn’t trans myself, but I also found it nice to be looked up to by the transgender community.
“What’s so good about it?” A friend of mine, who at the time was currently crushing hard on a kouhai in his club, asked me. He, too, was admirable.
I barely gave him the time of day, just glancing at him from my computer screen full of emails. “Imagine it. The glory? The freedom? That's the goal.”
“What exactly is so glorious about it?”
That was a good question. To him, crossdressing was nothing but a waste of time, something to make people’s eyes pop out of their head when they look at you. It wasn’t embarrassing for him to have a friend who did it. To be embarrassed would be to care, and this guy didn’t care about much of anything(except that girl). To me, crossdressing was a pool on the hottest day of the year. Rain in a drought. It was the cheering in a crowd, the smile on people’s faces. I couldn’t explain that to him because he wouldn’t understand it.
“I just like getting people’s attention.” I said instead, a half truth.
He snorted. “Are you gonna date any of them?” He asked, already knowing the answer.
This is where he and I differed. I scoffed. “Why would I date someone who doesn’t even like me?”
Don and I were introduced way after he and I had already met. It was maybe a year ago now that we’d gone out to lunch with our mutual friend, each of us too busy with campus life to ever really go around meeting people otherwise. At first, I’d thought Don was a disgusting scoundrel, a dullard using adoration as an excuse to achieve his vulgarity. But, as I got used to him and his loathsome passions, I saw that he, too, was worthy of praise. All this over a girl he’d hadn’t even met? I’d thought, ignorantly.
It became apparent that he wasn’t very fond of me either, actually. As his brazen play soon revealed, he thought of me, the Director of the School Festival Operations and member of the Bedroom Investigation Committee, as someone equally as gross and unsavory. My association with the club was something my fans never minded, nor any of the people at school who cared enough to know about it, up until his play got popular. The Codger of Monte Cristo. The play of Don Underwear and his fateful encounter with the person who sat across from him during last year's school festival. He wrote an entire script, piece by piece, to get the so-called Apple Girl from that day to find him and return his love, and I, as head of the school festival operations, was found deplorable by the student body for trying to do my job. The existence of guerilla plays is illegal according to school rules, and I had a reputation to uphold. I hadn’t heard the entire story until the last day of this year’s festival, after having chased him down the entire week. I’d thought he was a hopeless romantic, a bumbling idiot like those in fairy tales, yes, but one I’d hoped would soon find what he was looking for. Or who. I thought it was nice.
I’d never thought it would be me.
His play described me as a “shameless bastard”, the nickname Director Sleaze forced upon my character, the only known antagonist— Don’s words; he had no qualms with throwing his friend under the bus, although who was I to blame him? I’d have done the same thing in his place. Up until some of the final moments of the play, I’d been planning on revealing myself as the girl he’d been looking for the entire time, the Apple Girl who’d really just been me dressed up as an idol for a thing a friend of mine had invited me to do for them, and taking him in while he was struck still with surprise. That had been the plan. But like most of my plans throughout the past festival, it didn’t go quite like that. Instead, Don, the man I’d known for little over half a year, the vagabond I’d been chasing the entire past week, confessed his love to me, right there, on stage, unbothered by the fact that I was a man and not a woman, unbothered by the woman who’d just declared her love for him mere seconds before from the crowd, unbothered by my trickery or status or association with Todo, the old man leading the Bedroom Committee.
And it was there that I…that I finally felt what I'd thought made everyone else so admirable. There, on that stage, wearing a silly dress with my long pink wig discarded on the floor beside me, sick and struggling not to cough, was where I felt my heart race in my chest for the first time in years. To others, which was such an everyday occurrence, so unordinary and normal for them, was something that’d only happened to me maybe three times in my entire life, happening for that third time. My face was hot, either from the sickness or the blush blooming onto my face from the sudden attraction I was feeling. Don’s eyes were passionate, and genuine, and he liked me. He liked me, despite it all, despite everything he knew about me, despite all the time we’d spent together the past semester, despite the vitriol he’d written into his play.
I accepted him, finally feeling that something that I’d always wanted to feel. Drunk off the idea that someone wanted to get to know me, to be with me, to understand me. I was ready. I was ready. And then I fell.
I don’t remember much after that. My friend told me I’d been crying. Again, not sure if it was because I’d fallen ten feet from the platform down underneath the make-shift stage or because I’d been rejected so soon after. With me now actually physically out of the way, Don had moved on to the girl who’d confessed to him. It was immediate, that I remember.
I gained a lot of fans after the musical. While I was sick, a lot of them came by with gifts and cold remedies, but ended up getting sick, too. Noriko and Don had also gotten sick, and my friend and his kohai soon after, too. They all started dating, although I didn’t have any spite towards them. I was disappointed, for sure, but they were still just as admirable to me then as they were before. My friend got his girl, and Don found his own love. He reciprocated to her just as easily as I reciprocated to him. Noriko, dubbed Fish Girl by fans of the musical, was a nice woman. I held nothing against her. Why would I? She finally received the love she also wanted.
I wasn’t even jealous, I was just…sad. Is that what jealousy is, I wondered. Just being sad? And if so, was I even deserving of it? If I could only like when I know it’s reciprocated, did I even really like them? Or was I just wanting to like them? Was I just excited by the idea of someone liking me? I was sick, and this was all I could think about. It was like a storm was raging in my head. Did I like Don? Do I now? Even though he doesn’t like me anymore? Am I even capable of liking men like he is? Was he just pretending to bring a solid ending to The Codger of Monte Cristo? But the look in his eyes…the more I thought about it, the more sure I was that it wasn’t true. Don didn’t care about gender, he cared about his idea of a fairytale fated meeting. And I was equally as queer, because I’d fallen for it. For him. I liked him, and now it was all for nothing because I hadn’t been able to take him in or get a partner that night. That’s what I’d thought.
“It’s insane what you kids convince yourselves of at your age,” Todo had said days after, at a bar where we were sharing a drink.
“What do you mean by that?” I asked.
“You act like any of this stuff is important. It’s not! You guys just put yourselves out there and after college never speak to each other again! But what you think is happening is that this life is gonna be the whole of it, so you cry over spilt milk and keep yourselves from moving on!”
“Huh?”
“Who cares if you’re gay? Or straight? Or bi or pan-whatever they call it these days— just do whatever you’re gonna do and leave college with no regrets! None of this matters!”
I disagreed with much of what he said wholeheartedly, but what was the point in arguing with a drunk? “Is that why you came back to college, Todo-san?”
“Huh? Oh, sure, yeah,” he was already drunk off his tail. “Just go up to that guy. Everything’ll work out.”
Don and I still had a mutual friend, so we still saw each other around. Two weeks had gone by since the festival, one week to get over a cold, another to try to get over Don. Everyone knew what had happened between us, but they all were also overcoming colds and had either forgotten, or thought it was a part of the musical or a fever dream. After leaving the bar where I had been drinking with Todo-san, I ran right into the man himself.
It was there, outside a sketchy old bar, smelling of booze and old men, that I was confessed to by Don for a second time.
There were a lot of P words floating around in that conversation. A lot of words I hadn’t enough of a mind to really comprehend at that moment. Surprisingly, pervert wasn’t one of them, so that was good. Todo was a bit eccentric, but he wasn’t a bad guy. A lot weird, yes, but he never judged me for my crossdressing habits, or my romance issues. He paid for my drinks, and he let me, in a drunken haze, rant for as long as I needed to. That is to say, I was shit-faced when Don came up to me spouting P words such as polyamory, and pansexual, and please followed by go on one date with me; in fact, I was so fucked up that I gave him a P word myself: pee, as in, I have to pee, because I’d had two gallons of alcohol and was not sane enough to have a conversation like that one at that time.
The next day, when I was fully lucid and also simultaneously losing my mind at how my life was managing to go right then, I texted him and agreed to go on one date.
We’ve been dating for three weeks, and a very interesting three weeks it’s been. Don is a surprisingly gentle lover. He asks before he kisses me, and he wants to pay for every meal. He massages my shoulders after a busy day, and he takes pictures of us whenever we go out somewhere. I showed him my favorite ice cream place, and he showed me all the written material he left out of the final product of his musical.
It’s so strange. I never thought I could be so cherished like this. It’s completely unlike my fans, who keep a charitable distance from my personal life so long as they can idolize me within their comfort. Don actually takes the time to get to know my interests, to talk about my favorite type of clothing without underlying judgment, to bounce off my quips and relax with me after a long day of stewardship.
And Noriko doesn’t seem to mind in the least. I was actually quite worried that this entire time the whole “polyamory” thing had been a ruse and I’d actually been helping him cheat on her with me. But when we all went to brunch together, it became apparent that she was just as nervous as I was, and that she was pretty cool about it, just like he’d said. I couldn’t help being a blushing mess around Don. He was so honest about his feelings. He said what he meant, no matter what, even if it was embarrassing. He called me handsome and cute. He went to my impromptu drag shows. He knew how I liked my caffeine, and he’d buy it for me without me asking, as a surprise.
And it’s only been three weeks.
I’m smitten. I get it. I get what that cool-headed senpai meant when he talked about his kouhai. It was this. I was slowly drifting, and I liked it.
I like Don.
When Don appeared at my show, Noriko was with him. They were seated near the front, the closest tables being taken up by fans. He wore a nice polkadot button up, and his short, dark hair was styled back.
As I performed, Don's eyes were ablaze, a grin on his face, and while I was backstage, I watched as he whispered into Noriko's ear. This was the first time she'd ever been to one of my shows. She looked like she was enjoying it, but who could really know for sure?
Sweat was dripping down both of their faces, and mine too, but not just because of how hot it was in here. I was a bit nervous. I wanted to make a good impression with Noriko with this performance. Not that our relationship was bad or anything, but I wanted her to know that there were no hard feelings. The last time we met, we hadn’t really spoken to each other much. Mostly, we spoke through Don, who was the spotlight of our affection. But afterwards, when I was thinking about it, I thought..hadn’t it seemed like I was ignoring her? I wasn’t sure of the etiquette, so I only spoke when spoken too, but maybe she took it to mean I disliked her?
This stream of thoughts was all based on nothing but anxious late night ponderings. Nonetheless, I wanted her to like my show.
Which was ridiculous. She wasn't Don's mom— she couldn't ban me from dating him if she found my talents stupid or lacking. She's not that kind of girl. I know this.
Still, I busy myself with the setting up of the props and checking in with my colleagues. I help move backgrounds off stage and down a bottle of water, distracting myself.
When we go back out I'm no less nervous, but I manage to keep my visual reserve. He’s there and that’s fine, she's there and that’s also fine, everything's fine; I knew they were coming. This is a normal show. I look around the bustling room, down at all of my fans. Easy, just focus on them. Do well for them. Everything is—
My eyes catch onto something, and my breath hitches.
Oh my goodness, Todo is talking to Don.
Just as I was beginning to relax! I stop short of letting a frown onto my face, keeping my expression and my movements steady.
Don smiles politely as the old man comes nearer to him and his girlfriend. It’s obvious he’s trying to shield her from him, trying to draw his attention away from her. The awkwardness is palpable even from all the way up here. What is that guy thinking?
And now Noriko's talking to him. Oh, what a treat! How absolutely fantastic! Can't that guy just mind his own business? For one night? Why had I told him about this evening?
Noriko is giving a thin smile, but they seem suddenly engaged in riveting conversation.
My focus is interrupted by the beginnings of a very physically straining part of the performance, and I have to force myself to pry my attention away from the scene before me. I no longer have the luxury of pondering what could possibly be going on over there. A shitshow, probably. Annoyance ripples through me, but I put that energy into twisting my torso and moving my legs.
This goes on for several more minutes, and afterwards, when I am finally off stage, I look back into the crowd only to find that all three of them are missing.
A ball of panic drops into the pit of my stomach. How could things have broken bad so quickly? Todo being gone is a miracle, Don and Noriko being gone with him is an absolute nightmare. When had they left? Mid performance? I'd only taken my eyes off them for a few minutes! So when I got offstage? Then where did they go?
Noriko plus Todo is a recipe for disaster. That guy has so many embarrassing stories about me— I just know he wants to let it all out. He can't keep his mouth shut!
Blistering with worry and impatience, I head to the makeshift dressing room in the back. I call over my shoulder at the cohorts who ask about my hurry, and as I run we congratulate each other on our successful performance.
Quickly undressing from a sparkling white and blue to red and gold-lined dress into my casual clothes (a navy blue t-shirt and jeans), I pull out my phone to email Don.
I ask him where he is and watch the screen anxiously, waiting for a message to come in, and at the same time wipe the makeup from my face.
With Noriko, the reply says a minute later. She needed to go outside for a minute.
My heart’s practically beating out of my chest, but as I go to reply—
We saw everything, though! Don’t worry, we didn't miss a thing! 👍
A laugh bursts from my throat, the irritation slowly receding but the panic still buzzing under the surface of my skin. What had Todo said to them?
I’m outside
I completely forget about wiping off the rest of my face as I run to the door.
It’s already pitch black outside but for the stars and the lights above the side of the building’s exit door. The slightly cold wind is a Godsend in comparison to the blasting heat of the Arts building. Don stands alone against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes closed. They open, revealing deep blue eyes, as the door shuts behind me and disrupts the quiet.
I look around but see no one else with us. “Where’s Noriko?” I ask instinctively while hopping down the single step. We’re in the side alleyway between the two halves of the building, and people move by from the street as they leave the performance and head home, or for whatever afterparty.
“Went to the little girls room.” He places a hand behind his head with a sheepish grin. “She adored the show by the way. You did amazing! Uh, she told me to tell you that!”
I smile. “Oh?” An embarrassed blush rises to my cheeks. “I couldn’t tell from on stage. The lighting and all that.”
“Don’t act modest, of course you know everyone loves your shows.” He grins back. “I’m glad we found seats so close. You’re a celebrity around here.”
“Well so are you, Playwright-san.” I elbow him. “Gonna make me jealous.”
“I’m the one who should be jealous!”
We both laugh, and the silence that follows is comfortable. But the thought is still pervasive in my mind: what the hell did he and Todo talk about?
I feign nonchalance, lifting a hand and furrowing my brow, “I really hope Todo-san didn’t say anything weird to Noriko-san. I can’t imagine what Todo was going on about back there, but please ignore it.”
“Ah! You saw that?” His eyes widen comically. “Wait, I thought you said you couldn’t see anything?”
“Ch! I can smell that Senpai anywhere,” Crossing my arms, I sneer at just the thought of him bothering my fans while smelling of booze. “By the way, where did he go? I hope he wasn’t too bad. It’s better to keep an eye on him. In fact, with that in mind, are you sure Noriko’s alright? I’d feel sorry if she was alone with him. Is she coming back—? How long has she been gone?”
“Well..” Don looks off to the side. “Uh, actually..? I asked her if I could have a minute alone with you.” He admits.
I raise my eyebrows at that. “Oh.” Shuffling my feet, I look back up at him. My hand goes to my hip and I tilt my head to the side questioningly. “And she’s okay with that?”
“Of course she is! Noriko’s awesome!” He replies earnestly.
Another smile grows on my face and I let out a sigh of relief. “I’m glad. I thought she might secretly hate me.”
Don’s sudden bemusement is plastered all over his face. “What? Noriko couldn’t hate a soul. What made you think that?”
I walk closer, turning my back to the opposite wall and leaning against it. “I don’t know..I just don’t have a lot of experience with polyamory. Or love. At all.”
He turns to me with a confused look. He idly rolls up his button up sleeves to his elbows, showing off his large, hairy arms and waiting for me to continue. “You?”
“Yeah,” I admit. “I feel like she might blame me for her having less time to spend with you.”
He shrugs. “I guess if there’s anyone to blame..”
I grin and lightly smack his arm. He laughs. “Annoying. I’m trying to pour my heart out to my boyfriend and all he does is make fun of me!”
He holds my arm for a second, shaking me, then let's go with a grin. “No way! What kind of person do you think she is? We came together, and she likes you.” Don says with a heartiness in his laugh. He furrows his bushy brows. “If she really minded, she’d tell me! Anyway, how could she hold a grudge over such a handsome man?”
My face reddens at that. “I guess so.. It’s not like we talk all the time. I guess I’m just,” I pause, nodding, trying to think of the right words, “..nervous, I guess.”
He stares at me for a long few seconds, then takes a few steps closer. “We’re all new at this.” He puts a hand on my elbow again, and his warmth seeps into my skin.
“Right. But unlike you, I’m not a natural at it,” I sigh with a smile and shrug. “It may be hard to believe, but this prestigious Director of Operations is hard to get. I don’t play the game of love often.”
His shiny white pearls blind me. “Guess that makes me the lucky deck!”
He’s infectious. I grin right back. “Guess so. So lucky, in fact, that you have two people falling all over you instead of one.”
His grin turns sly. “You saying you’re in love with me?”
The heat that rises to my face could rival the air onstage. “Don’t be ridiculous! It’s only been a month!”
“You mean it’s already been a month.” He wiggles his eyebrows with a smirk, drawing closer.
I scoff, unable to meet his eyes. “Of course you would think that. Ever the romantic...”
His arms encircle my waist, and goosebumps rise on my own. “What’s wrong with that?” His voice deepens, lowering lavisciously.
My hands go to his forearms, fingertips brushing against his arm hair, ready to push him away. I keep my eyes to the ground. “Shouldn’t you be getting back to your second love?”
“She’ll be fine,” he says, then kisses my cheek.
Here we go. “Don, love, I’m sweaty,” I start, as I always do.
“And? Me too.” He says, as if reading from a script.
“I need to take a bath…”
“For a kiss?” He pouts his lips expectantly. “I’ve never known you to be so shy?”
“I…really don’t know how to handle all of your affection,” I don’t know where to look, so I turn my gaze to the ground. The cold air does nothing to cool my warming cheeks.
“Then come over and I can teach you.”
Oh, he’s being courageous today!
Don has me between himself and the corner, his arms boxing me in on both sides. His eyes are on me, suddenly yearning and playful. I can’t meet them, the blush taking over all of my senses and making me red hot. Heat begins to pool in my stomach.
“What are you afraid of?” He asks.
I can’t answer. I can’t do anything. My voice won’t work, I can’t catch a breath.
“If you really don’t want me back, push me away.”
Without looking, my hands settle on his broad shoulders. He's radiating heat, his torso mere inches from mine. How I’d managed to get closer than this during Festival Night I have no idea. All my confidence has swindled away. I’m bare; nervous and shaking. I can feel his breath on my neck, his scratchy five o’clock shadow. I don’t move.
“Look at me,” he orders, then softer, “please…”
I blink a few times, my heart racing in my chest, my face hot, and slowly turn my head to face him. My eyes are immediately drawn to his chest, his button up unbuttoned enough to be showing a bit of chest hair. Embarrassed, I look back up a bit(not much, because he’s shorter than me) and accidentally meet his gaze. His eyes are intense, staring deep into mine, dark blue and glistening.
“I want you,” he breathes, his voice husky and deep, trying to get a rise out of me. And it’s working. “I want to kiss you, and hold you. I wanna give you all of my attention.”
Ever the fucking playwright. I suck in a breath and his eyes move down my face. He’s getting closer, I know it. His big, beefy arms are closing in. I’m surrounded on all sides.
I want him. I want him to kiss me, and hold me, and give me all his attention.
As if reading my mind, he leans in the tiniest bit closer, his eyes slipping closed, and waits. All thoughts flush down the drain from my head to my toes and I’m on him. My arms wrap around his thick neck and one of his large hands moves up to hold my cheek as I kiss him.
After a few seconds, it is over, and I slowly pull away, the back of my head falling back against the wall. I keep my eyes closed so I can’t see the expression on his face. Don’s hand is still on my cheek, caressing me.
His voice is a dry whisper, “Can I kiss you again?”
Not opening my eyes, I nod, then nod more emphatically, swallowing my tongue.
He kisses me again, this time pressing me against the wall firmly, and breathes me in. His arms envelope me wholly, wrapping around my torso and pulling his abdomen to mine. His head turns this way and that, barely separating his lips from mine. I kiss him back, over and over again. He ignores my obvious arousal, not even daring to put his tongue in my mouth, but he holds me close, firmly, and kisses down my jaw to my neck. I gasp, mind going blank and a need taking over my body.
The sound of loud giggling and shoes running across pavement reminds me that we’re in public.
I come to my senses. “Really, Don, not here.” I pat his shoulder until he pulls back and looks at me. His eyes are drawn to my still slightly pink-stained lips.
He clears his throat. “Right, of course.” And backs up with a satisfied sigh. “Energy replenished!”
I shake my head, smiling down at him. “You’re such a fool.”
He grins up at me. “You like me that way.” He motions to the side. “Wanna walk Noriko home with me?”
A warmth seeps through me. “I’d be delighted.”