#five thoughts

********

Raven leaned forward far enough to see past the shimmering curtains out to the audience.

Shangela was tearing up the runway, to everyone’s obvious delight.  As she watched along with them, movement in the first row caught her attention.

Sitting pressed together from shoulder to knee, Bianca and Adore out of drag looked like any other couple enjoying an evening at Micky’s.  Adore’s head dipped briefly onto Bianca’s shoulder, receiving an indulgent smile in response.  Moments later and completely unprompted, Bianca casually reached over to squeeze Adore’s knee.

”Sure you want to stay back here all night?”

”Yeah,” Raja sighed, “too many people wanting the full Raja experience and it’s been forever since I saw you.”

Raven pressed a kiss to her cheek, and they fell back into comfortable silence.

“What are you looking at?”

Raja’s voice interrupted Raven’s voyeurism, and she turned to find her lounging lazily against the wall, wineglass held precariously in hand.  Partial drag was a good look on her (any look was a good look for Raja, honestly), the natural grey of her hair setting off her painted eyes.

She gestured vaguely towards the stage with her drink.

“Bianca needs to wear more color.  All of that black makes her look small.”

Raja breathed out a mellow laugh.

”She is small.  How many of those have you had if you’re forgetting that?”

”Do you think-“ Raven started then paused, trying to get her thoughts in order while simultaneously checking the set list and blotting her forehead with a powder puff.

”Hmmm?” Raja handed her a napkin for the sweaty cocktail balanced on her knee.

They both applauded as Shangela finished her set, and Raven headed back on stage to introduce the next performer.

********

Half an hour later, she picked up the thread of conversation as if they hadn’t been interrupted.

“Ever think the two of them are together?”

”Who?”

Raven raised an elegant eyebrow, but Raja was too busy peering out into the audience again to appreciate the look.

”Bianca and her little drag baby.”

”Oh.”  She didn’t sound surprised.  At all.  Actually…Raven thought she seemed more contemplative than anything else.

”Yes?  Or no.”

”Depending on how you look at it, yes and no.”

Turning to face Raja fully, she waited for an explanation, keeping an ear out for the change in music.

“Well?”

“Bianca told me once that she didn’t do boyfriends because she didn’t have enough time to commit properly.”  

Raven blinked at what appeared to be a tangential statement, but probably would end up being relevant.

“That bitch, out of everyone we know, could make time for anything.”

She waited patiently for a response as Raja took another sip of wine and waved at a local queen passing through.

”It’s complicated between them.”

”Obviously.”

”Bianca is almost as old as I am.”  

Raven snorted.

”Don’t tell me it’s an age gap.”

Lifting her glass to punctuate the previous statement, Raja continued.  

“There’s almost…It’s easy to forget that Adore is almost thirty.  She’s still figuring out how to be completely comfortable in her skin.  She’s so young in a lot of ways.  In some ways, that makes the difference even more obvious.  And Bianca has been at this for half of her life - and way more than half of Adore’s.”

“Well, she’s practically her drag daughter at this point.  But,” Raven checked the stage again, “they’re way too comfortable for that to be a problem.”

“I wasn’t finished.”

A sweaty Shangela came off stage and ushered the local girl on before heading over.

”What’s the tea?”

Raven smiled and patted the bench next to her.  “Sit down.  We’re trying to decide if Bianca and Adore are fucking.”

”Raven thinks they’re fucking.  I,” Raja deliberately flicked her hair over her shoulder, “was trying to explain that it’s more complicated.”

They both waited expectantly while she drained a bottle of water.

“My opinion?”  Shangela dabbed at her forehead delicately.  “Miss Bianca is too direct to not go for it if she wanted to.  And Adore, well, god bless that horny little thing.  She’d have jumped her if she wanted.”

Standing up, she air kissed them both and left in a cloud of neon fringe for her next costume change.  Raven headed back on stage, and somehow they didn’t manage to finish the conversation before the night was over.

********

Another Monday at Micky’s.  Adore and Bianca were once again seated in the corner near the beginning of the stage, clearly a few drinks in each.

”She’s got to be in total control, or else gets so drunk she doesn’t have to be,” Raja announced.

”What?”  Raven’s glass was empty and she signaled a server for a refill.

“You know who.  Bianca.”

“She’s a drag queen, drinking is part of the job.  Fuck, no one I know can function as well as Bianca does when she’s drunk.”

Raja nodded slowly.  Tonight she was completely her boy self, lending an air of casual chic to a slouchy deconstructed sweater and jeans.

"We were talking about Bianca and Adore.”

“Rave, you’ve known Adore for what, over a decade?  Since she was a baby queen.  And what’s her defining energy?”

“Messy slut?”

“I was going to say disorder, but that’s close enough.  Mix that with Bianca’s control and you’ve either got the worst combination of opposites or two people that complement each other perfectly.”

“So opposites attract.  It’s hardly news.  We’ve seen how they look at each other on and off stage.  And it sounds like most of the internet has too.”

“Half the net thinks we’re fucking, or haven’t you read the comments out there?”

Raven ignored the question entirely, watching as Bianca draped an arm around Adore’s shoulders without even looking as they carried on two separate conversations between sets.

"Bianca and Adore.  Practically on each other’s laps.  And that weird no-talking-but-I-know-right-where-you-are thing that they do.”

“We do that.”  Raja drained her glass and set it carefully aside.

"You didn’t pay for me to fix this hairline.  Or hang all over me all of the time when you’re sober.“

"That’s Martin’s job - ”

“You know,” Mariah’s voice cut in, “Adore made a whole video post about borrowing Bianca’s running shoes in Australia.”

Raven raised a sculpted eyebrow.  “Couples share clothes,” she pointed out.

Raja gave them both a look over the rim of her now-full wineglass.

"Bianca loaned Manila two whole outfits for All Stars that she hasn’t given back yet.  And I don’t think anyone thinks they’re fucking.”

"That’s drag.  We’ve all done it,” Raven pointed out. “This is boy clothes.”

“Awww, you wouldn’t let me borrow your shoes?”

“Your raptor toes wouldn’t fit.”

“Ha ha.  Whose side are you on anyway?” Raja demanded when Mariah snickered helplessly at Raven’s jab.  

“Oh, most definitely theirs.”

“Gonna tell us what you know?”

Mariah grinned wickedly.  

“Nope.”

********

“There’s more sexual tension between them than people who are actually fucking, then.  Look,” Raven tugged Raja over until she could see.  As they watched, Adore and Bianca laughed along with the rest of the audience at something the queen had done on the runway.  Mid-laugh, Adore twisted in her seat to look at Bianca, head tilted and a soft look in her eyes.  

“And?”

“Adore practically looks like one of those heart eyes emojis.”

Raja shook her head with that enigmatic half-smile that made Raven want to simultaneously hug her and shake her until she answered.

********

“It’s better than sex though, isn’t it?”

“…suuuuuuure."  Raven didn’t sound convinced.

"Think about it.”  Raja gestured eloquently with her free hand before settling back on the chair.  “Can you see Bianca putting minimal effort into anything?  She doesn’t let herself have the time to meet someone and direct her energy into a relationship, and you know how many race chasers are out there.”

”Bitch needs to get her dick sucked more often.  Unless you finally agree that she and Adore are hooking up?”

Predictably, Raja continued down her original train of thought.

“Other than sex, she’s got all of the best parts in Adore already - best friend, someone to take care of, someone who understands what we do.  And Bianca is exactly what Adore needs to stay grounded and let loose together.”

“You’re not convincing me that they aren’t fucking out their frustrations together.”

“It’s safe for them to love each other, because they’re never going to hurt each other like you do in a relationship.  Sex is simple, but having the kind of bond they do?  Worth way more, and I don’t care what you say, I’m sticking to that.”

Raven sighed, not sure why they hadn’t just asked the two of them rather than wading through Raja’s musings.

“Oh go ahead, I’ll just watch Bianca shade you into next week.”

She was positive she hadn’t voiced that thought aloud.

”I hate it when you do that.”

“No you don’t.”

”Raja,” she sighed again, “not everything is always profoundly spiritual.”

Raja set down the now-empty glass and fixed her with a look that said she was being incredibly dense.  From anyone else, Raven would have bristled, but over the years she’d learned to trust Raja’s instincts.  

Mostly.

“Give me your hands.”

With a bland expression, Raja folded her fingers around Raven’s, not squeezing but gently holding.  

“…what-“

”Shhh, just concentrate.”

”On?”

A tingling buzz started to grow where their palms made contact.  Raja’s energy manipulation was hardly surprising anymore, but she closed her eyes without being asked.

“This is what Adore feels like when you touch her.”  The buzz grew sharper, brightness mixed with playful nudges of static.  

“And this,” she murmured with a squeeze of their fingers, “is Bianca.”  Immediately, the erratic frissons of energy subsided in her left hand.  As Raja breathed out, the flow became regimented, controlled and steady with the impression of overwhelming power behind it.

Opening her eyes, Raven nodded and the buzz dwindled down to nothing.  Not that she would be able to describe the feelings, but they nonetheless made sense.

“This,” Raja sounded mischievous, “is how it feels when you’re in lust.”

Heat filled her entire body and Raven was suddenly acutely aware of all of the sounds and smells surrounding them.  A spark of pure fire raced up both palms, through her corsetted midsection, and settled just above her tuck.  

”Very funny,” she muttered, shaking her hands free.

Raja didn’t look the least bit sorry.  Recapturing her fingers, she continued.

”The kind of love they have?  It’s like this.”

This time, the playful buzz in one hand and solid strength in the other met each other in the middle of her body, melting together.  The sensation was warm instead of raging hot, gliding up her arms and settling in her chest.  Her own heartbeat fluttered briefly before slowing into a hypnotically steady beat.  Raven felt the tension in her shoulders relax as an undefined feeling of rightness descended.  It was how she felt falling asleep cradling Martin, lazy afternoons watching tv while working on a new outfit, laughing with Raja in the basement at WOW Presents.

Raja gently released her hands, but the sense of safety and calm affection remained.

”Adore needs that kind of stabilizing energy. And Bianca needs to feel it’s safe to be loved, that she has permission to be vulnerable.”

Oh.  

********

Later on, after Raja had recharged her witchy batteries with hugs and being social, Raven pulled her aside and smirked.  "Think they just couldn’t figure out how to both be tops?”

*********

Body Language

“Adore?”

“Yes baby?”

Courtney paused in darkening her brows, observing the workroom behind her in the mirror. Although the tabletop lighted mirror blocked her view of Bianca’s face, she could clearly see the way Adore’s eyes lit up at the offer of her spare cincher, and Bianca’s decisive nod.

If there was one thing a queen knew (or learned quickly in some cases), reputation could make or break someone and preceded her by far. Backstage behavior spread quickly between sisters, and a queen who fell on the wrong side of cunty could find herself unable to book gigs for dozens of miles. She’d met Bianca prior to the season six workroom and had nothing but respect for her professionalism. Courtney had big ears when it came to gossip, and paid close attention when local queens shared accounts of Bianca offering her own makeup, repairing garments without being asked, and giving sharp but constructive critiques. While her reputation as a formidable, quick-witted performer commanded respect, her willingness to help others earned it.

Watching the sparks fly between Adore and Bianca in the Untucked lounge at the very beginning, she expected the latter to be willing to help with makeup or putting Adore in drag, but would never have predicted the level of generosity displayed by The Cincher Incident.

Adore’s raw talent and charisma had yet to be refined, and could very well spell her downfall as the challenges progressed. Her lack of corsetting had been a constant, to the point that Courtney wondered if Michelle Visage even looked at anything about her outfit besides the waistline and hem length. In the battle of wills, she could easily foresee Michelle’s opinion on what constituted a drag silhouette swaying Ru against Adore when it came down to the wire.

Bianca was fiercely competitive (Courtney reluctantly admitted that her drive to win matched or even exceeded her own), and by rights shouldn’t have offered her such a large advantage. Based on Adore’s talent alone, she would have been justified in sitting back and watching a strong opponent be eliminated. And until a day or two ago, Courtney would have sworn that Adore’s allegiance to her prior friendship with Laganja would bring her down too. Laganja’s erratic moods and denial of her own flaws were definitely going to take her out long before they reached the end.

She’d seen Bianca’s quiet kindness in bringing out Trinity’s confidence and expected their friendship to overshadow connections with the other queens. Instead, and inexplicably, she’d also watched Bianca’s mask of calm indifference slip - the softening of her normal harsh tone when she paused mid-conversation to check on Adore during the animal kingdom challenge, a warming of her body language after sitting beside Adore’s Anna Nicole Smith during the Snatch Game.

Courtney picked up her lipstick and considered the implications of Bianca and Adore being able to redirect the energy spent rubbing each other the wrong way into the competition.

The path to the top three had suddenly developed potential roadblocks.

********

Several years and seasons of Drag Race later, the ABCD of drag were finally reunited to perform for a few nights together (and what a ride it had been).

Courtney felt the excitement of the night buzzing inside her stomach as they prepared for meet and greets, posting Instagram stories of their backstage antics with a sense of quiet completeness. Riding high on the energy of hugging hundreds of fans and hearing their stories was unmatched by anything. Most were ushered to stand in the middle of the group, ring lights illuminating joy on so many faces.

Returning to their positions in front of the backdrop, she offered the next person in line a hug and wink. Wrapping an arm around the fan was a lost cause though; he only seemed interested in leaning close to Adore Not terribly unusual given the droves of fans dressed in flannel and fishnets.

“One second ladies.”

The photographer paused to work out a technical issue, and Bianca immediately filled the silence with a clever comment to the waiting fan. Curiously, between one second and the next, Courtney could have sworn she saw Adore step back ever so slightly and catch Bianca’s attention with a glance. She definitely saw Bianca’s lashes dip in the barest of subtle assent, communicating in the silent language that seemed to exist in the space between them.

Courtney gave a mental shrug and a wide smile as the photographer indicated that he was ready again. Shifting into position, she caught a flash of movement and black-painted nails just over the guy’s shoulder. Instead of resting comfortably on her lower back as they had been standing for an hour already, Bianca’s hand moved until it was snug around Adore’s hip, effectively blocking any casual contact with her bare midriff.

“Oh, sorry! Too much wine already.”

Bianca’s professional apologetic smile was in place as her hand collided with his arm, and although his laugh seemed a little off, her expression didn’t waver as he settled for an arm around Adore’s shoulders. After the flash went off and they moved to separate for the next fan, Courtney filed away the observation for later examination (preferably in a hot bath).

Adore was tactile as ever, holding fans close and chatting away, and Bianca seemed perfectly content as blushing teenagers clung to her and stammered out their names.

Maybe she hadn’t seen anything after all?

As the meet and greet continued, Courtney paid close attention to them both. A handful of times, and so smoothly that anyone else observing wouldn’t have noticed, Bianca used her own body as a barrier to subtly limit a fan’s access to Adore. Courtney marveled at the silent conversation between them, held in the smallest of head tilts and pursed lips. Twice Bianca gently steered Adore to the opposite side without any prompting at all that Courtney could pick up on (they hadn’t even been looking at each other, she mused).

Afterwards, when they were all four piled onto Bianca’s bed together, Courtney almost opened her mouth to comment on what she’d seen.

********

Laganja had been pleased to find Adore in her group for Drag Race, both as a friendly face and a known quantity: good, but not going to outshine her in the end (she didn’t even cinch).  They’d gotten on well before the show, and she couldn’t wait to kiki with her on camera.  More importantly, she wanted to find a moment to ask if she’d managed to stash anything for later since her nerves had been buzzing for hours already.

Striding into the workroom, she landed a perfect death drop that hopefully would capture the fans’ attention once the episode aired.

Sizing up the rest of the competition proved more challenging.  She almost immediately dismissed Vivacious (what the fuck was that on her head anyway?) and cautiously considered the likelihood that BenDeLaCreme would turn out to be playing the long game behind her sweet persona.  Laganja weighed the potential benefit of establishing Gia as an ally, felt a twinge of envy for April’s showy costume and Latin charm, and came up suspiciously neutral in her impression of Kelly Mantle.

After the photo shoot and gleefully celebrating her first win, she sat back and waited for the other queens to arrive, ignoring how much she really wanted to light up to calm her nerves.

Kelly hadn’t lasted long anyway.  One queen down, and six new bitches to add to the mix.

********

The first thing she noticed when the second group walked in was how much older Darienne and Courtney looked in person (although she had to begrudgingly admit that Courtney’s fishyness was impressive).  Courtney was pretty, but her makeup wasn’t drag-worthy.  As for Darienne, well, a queen who couldn’t wear high heels wasn’t a queen at all in her book.

Joslyn seemed genuinely nice, although probably not savvy enough to last long.  On the other hand, she would definitely make Laganja seem even more polished by comparison, so maybe she would be worth keeping around for a couple of weeks.

Trinity had faded into the background, and Laganja figured she would stay there.  Part of her empathized with the air of someone struggling with their own inner issues, but she couldn’t afford to play nice.  Trinity didn’t seem likely to pose a threat, and it was probably safe to leave her to her own devices.

Most of all though, the last two who came through the doors set off alarm bells in her head.  

Milk looked like a demented marionnette wrapped in organza, but the sheer outlandish energy coming off her might be a problem as the challenges progressed.  She also wondered if Milk had any dance background, watching her assured movement in and out of drag.  So far no one else seemed to be able to match her for flexibility and ability to tear up the floor, but she planned to keep an eye on the bearded wonder.

Last across the threshold and sporting neon eyeshadow that badly needed blending, Laganja recognized Bianca Del Rio.  The queen had to be pushing forty (Alyssa had mentioned her a few times, calling her ‘established in the business’), but her padding and wig line were flawless.  Beyond the packaging though, she recognized the sharp eyes of a fellow competitor.  Combined with her sharp tongue, Laganja might actually have some serious competition.

********

Scream Queens

After the first acting challenge, when Laganja found herself laughing along with Bianca’s cutting retort to Adore, she wondered if the other queen might actually not be as much of a problem as she’d anticipated.  If she was going to devote energy to taking down all of the girls verbally, then it was less to focus on everything else.  Adore rarely played well with other queens in her experience, so why should Drag Race be any different?  It meant that Laganja ought to have her undivided support, at least until she was sent home.  

Bianca didn’t appear concerned with playing to the camera outside of the challenge, nor did she make an effort to capture airtime in the workroom.  Moreover, she didn’t make any attempt to showcase her slender legs (nice, but not as nice as Laganja’s) to take attention away from her overdrawn face, which could only be a serious tactical error.  And while the old Hollywood glamour admittedly flattered her petite figure, it wasn’t edgy or exciting for someone who claimed to be a costume designer.  

The oversized rhinestoned collar was actually impressive.  Not as imaginative as her butterfly fascinator, but definitely interesting.  

Laganja had studied the looks on Bianca’s garment rack, and while a part of her coveted the craftsmanship (apparently Bianca made everything herself), her overriding impression was that the queen was stuck too far in the past.  People like Laganja, and Adore, were the new face of drag, outside of smoky clubs and bars.  

Also, the obsessive neatness and organized rows of identically styled wigs made her supremely uncomfortable.

********

Shade: The Rusical

In the Gold Bar, she struggled to contain her tears when a message from her parents played.  Everything was finally coming together, and she could picture the crown on display in Alyssa’s dance studio for everyone to know that Laganja Estranja of the Haus of Edwards was a true winner.

Sniffling, she turned her attention back to the other girls, waiting for their separate conversation to end so they could finish validating her experience.  It started out well, and even Bianca was complimentary towards her parents.  Who would have thought she had it in her?  (She was half convinced that Bianca spent every night off set thinking up ways to insult everyone else.)

And then, right as Laganja felt safe in relaxing just a little, Bianca cut across her moment with a joke.  It wasn’t the joke itself - she couldn’t care less what the bitter bitch thought of her - but then all of the other girls laughed and started another conversation without her.  Worse, they seemed to be laughing at her, which wasn’t fair at all.  The prickling sense of doubt came roaring back full force, and she couldn’t afford to let anyone see it, especially not here.    

How could they be so insensitive?

…how dare they?

“This was my moment!” she sobbed, not even hearing what was said after and barely conscious of the words coming out of her mouth.

This couldn’t be happening.

****      

Later, when she was calm again and Adore was disappointed in not winning the main challenge, Laganja found herself torn between annoyance on her behalf (Courtney Act was so *pitchy*) and being secretly relieved that one more episode was complete without the judges being drawn under Adore’s charming spell.  

The thing about Adore, was that her powerful voice wasn’t going to make up for her thrift store drag budget.  Her punk rock rebel schtick was only going to go so far, especially in comparison to queens with professionally made looks.  Laganja hated to think it, but Bianca Del Rio’s unclockable hairline next to Adore’s messy shake-and-go Party City closeouts was a point in her favor.

More importantly, she was relieved to unload her frustration at being dismissed on a friendly ear.  Adore might be a little slow, but she definitely stuck up for her friends.  Bianca wouldn’t catch her off-guard again, and not with Adore now aware of her awful behavior.      

********

Snatch Game

Laganja woke up feeling peaky and drained.  She panicked for a moment, thinking about the cameras catching her looking tired.  The only solution, as Alyssa had taught her, was to put on her biggest wig and blow the other bitches out of the water.  Digging in her suitcase, she located her pièce de résistance: a high braided turban that was sure to deflect from anyone noticing the bags under her eyes.

Her tactic seemed to be working, because the other queens were staring with impressed expressions as she showed off her flexibility for the camera.

Crisis averted.

Unsurprisingly, Bianca was the first one in full face and wig while the other queens were still baking and contouring.  She moved around the workroom purposefully, offering to help DeLa with her old lady face and brushing out Trinity’s wig.  When her black-clad form (why did Bianca suddenly look so tiny?) appeared behind Laganja in the mirror, she steeled herself for more negativity.

“Want me to help?”

Laganja blinked, certain that she’d heard wrong, and tried to continue.

Bianca watched her fumble with her highlight for a few seconds before holding out her hand.

“Give it to me, queen.”

Laganja froze, brush in midair and compact clenched in her other hand.

Rolling her eyes, Bianca made a ‘come here’ gesture before plucking both items out of her hands and tugging her shoulder until she turned around.  Gripping her chin gently, Bianca started moving with quick, precise strokes.

“It’s easier if you start near your hairline, and…"  The rest of what she said was lost as Laganja’s mind spun into overdrive.  There didn’t seem to be any ulterior motive, yet here she was helping her competition.

She zoned back in as Bianca set down the brush and highlighter, and nodded briskly.  

"Let me know if you want me to show you how to do it next time.”

As she walked away, Laganja could almost understand why Trinity and Adore seemed to love Bianca and talked about her being great.  Sometimes when the cameras weren’t rolling, she even felt a sense of camaraderie.  It never lasted long enough to convince her that it was real, because the moment filming started and her anxiety rocketed upwards, everything that came out of her mouth seemed to annoy the older queen.

****

She left the Snatch Game set nearly in tears.  Rachel Zoe was an easy part of her repertoire for her friends, but everything had felt so off today.    

It took a trip to the bathroom and a five-minute private mirror pep talk before Laganja felt ready to take on the Night of 1,000 RuPauls.  What she really needed was to get away from everyone and smoke, but that hadn’t been an option for weeks.  

Staring into her own eyes, she tongue popped for luck and resolved to slay it on the runway.

Bianca gave her a curious look when she breezed back into the workroom.

”Everything all right, queen?”

Laganja steadfastly ignored the attention.  

Halfway through gluing her lace down, she realized that Adore was no longer perched on the chair beside her.  Looking around the room, her heart dropped when she located her friend.

Instead of lingering at her station like usual to keep Laganja company and her mind off her nerves, Adore was off in the corner.  Off in the corner with Bianca, who had paused in the middle of piling hair on her head to lace her into a cincher.  Bianca’s cincher.  

Bafflingly, she was actually being nice to Adore and not sabotaging her, because as far as Laganja could tell, there wasn’t anything wrong with the garment and she had seemed genuinely concerned that Adore was comfortable and happy with the final product.

She didn’t understand Bianca at all.

****

The fragile sense of calm that she’d achieved on the main stage crumbled the moment Adore pointed at her and Gia as being in the bottom.

Hearing Adore laugh at DeLa’s naive question about Rachel Zoe hit like a bad death drop and for a moment Laganja couldn’t breathe.  

She scrabbled for something to defend herself with.  Bianca was an automatic target - after playing nice with her makeup, she had turned right around and messed with her in the Snatch Game.  Laganja wasn’t buying her “I hate everyone equally” excuse this time, not when she was obviously trying to come for her.

Looking across the lounge, she was overwhelmed by the sense of betrayal as Adore claimed that Bianca wasn’t singling her out for attack.  

It felt like the floor was slowly collapsing under her feet.  Not only had her friendship with Adore been far less of a stabilizing force than she’d expected, but Adore had actually joined forces with Bianca against her.  

It wasn’t the only thing, but that was the last heave it took to upend the cart of her control.

“Did you or did you not come for me today?” she snapped, hoping that someone else (Gia? Joslyn?) would stand up for her.  

“…hold up girl, I’m not trying to create a moment -“

Her heart pounded in her ears, and she badly wanted to grab the stupid pillow off of Bianca’s lap and throw it at Adore’s bitchface.  

“I’m not saying you came for me but I do feel a little shafted by you today.”

The words were spilling out and Laganja gave up trying to hold in all of her frustration and hurt.

”I don’t remember the exact comment you said, but earlier I do feel like you were saying -“

Her breathing was too shallow, but all she could see was Adore’s newly cinched waist.

“I don’t even know, but I felt a little hurt by you earlier,” she finished lamely, unable to articulate the pain and panic welling up in her chest.

She no longer recognized her rebellious good time party girl, always a few steps behind.  Adore wasn’t even trying to support her, just offering empty words as she she spent her time cozying up to Bianca.  While the person on the other side of the table looked like Adore and spoke in Adore’s voice, she might as well have been a stranger.  

Laganja shied away from Bianca’s touch on the way back into the hall.  Not five minutes after coming for her, Bianca had to be mocking her with her ‘advice’.  

She couldn’t trust anyone here, not anymore.

Why didn’t anyone else see what was going on?

********

Oh No She Better Don’t

“Miss Laganja Estranja. Next time you death drop, reverse that and drop dead.”

Adore’s read felt like a stab in the back and Laganja didn’t even bother to try to smile.  Everyone was laughing at her, Bianca’s cackle rising above the others.  

********

Glamazon by Colorevolution

Surveying the others, Laganja was certain that her black and white runway look would win the judges over - no one else had anything as edgy.  Even Adore was wearing a Forever 21 sweater and a miniskirt, but she could forgive her friend the look because their commercial had gone amazingly well.

Joslyn looked like an extra from a porn about magicians, and Courtney…well, that weird sparkly tuxedo thing was a look.  Courtney was blathering on about someone called Clause No Me (whoever that was), but it wouldn’t matter if she was wearing Dior, because her boy legs were on full display.  Not to mention, the giant pile of hair that DeLa was pinning up made her think of a butt plug.  Laganja was surprised that Darienne hadn’t made any catty comments about it given the palpable tension between them.  She started to move closer, but was distracted by the activity in Bianca’s alcove.

Still in pantyhose and corset with her skunk-striped hair, Bianca was helping Trinity zip herself in.  The domino dress was well-made, although she ought to be carrying drinks in Monte Carlo in it.  Laganja admitted she might even ask Trinity where it came from.

As for Miss Perfect herself, Laganja once again grudgingly had to give her credit for the ensemble as Bianca started to get dressed.  The enormous ball gown skirt seemed to materialize from nowhere in a cloud of tulle.  How the hell had she fit that in her duffels?  It wasn’t even creased, and it must have contained miles of crinoline.  Laganja had barely been able to close her five suitcases, but Bianca’s luggage all seemed to be under the maximum amount.  Not to mention, she’d only unpacked a bag and a half of wigs.

She started to pace anxiously, balance thrown off after the high of performing.  Her feet carried her to Adore’s table, hoping to mend their friendship, but once again Adore was busy talking to Bianca.

********

It wasn’t fair.  She had to keep her chin up, because the road to success was never easy, but it also shouldn’t have been this hard.  

She’d promised her parents and Alyssa that she’d bring home the crown.  Her parents seemed to finally be at peace with her drag, and it would be everything she’d ever wanted to validate following her dreams.

Laganja just had to hold on a little longer, prove to Ru that she deserved to be America’s next drag superstar.

********

Queens of Comedy

The comedy challenge was a disaster.  

After seeing Adore perform with shaky insecurity, Laganja’s confidence had risen.  All of the other girls were trying for a ten, but she was going to dial her personality up to one hundred.

Except instead of howling with laughter, the old people in the audience stared at her as if she was speaking a foreign language.  She dug deep for the best jokes that never failed to entertain her usual crowd, but nothing worked.

Barely keeping her angry tears in check, she slumped back into her seat and watched the rest with a stony stare.

Witnessing Bianca Del Rio effortlessly work the audience was awful.  Every laugh she drew from them hit her like a punch to the stomach, reminding her of how inadequate her jokes had been.  

Worse, seeing Adore’s rapt attention made her physically ill.  Bianca was now the recipient of the same wondering smile that Adore used to give her when she performed.

Nothing made sense.

Without heels, Laganja towered over Bianca; she couldn’t understand how the queen could still make her feel insignificant without even saying a word.

She was sick to death of Bianca’s clever insults and her perfect white teeth.  She hated her stupid dimples and how her voice grew soft when she spoke to Adore.  

Adore was her friend, or at least she used to be.  If Bianca had to pick someone to be nice to, why did it have to be Adore?