#trashqueens

Dela was your typical, run-off-the-mill sweet high school girl. She was smart but not too smart, she was well-liked, she was in six different clubs in Rupaul’s High School. She was head of the student welfare group and had a football captain for a boyfriend, making them the power couple in school, which only served to boost her popularity. As the terminally delightful bubble of happiness, her laughter and enthusiasm was always infectious. She never failed to make anyone smile. There was no way anyone could resist her charm.

Shangela was just your typical grade A cold bitch. No, seriously. It made sense, since she was the head cheerleader, and unlike Dela, her popularity was built on fear as opposed to kindness. She was the kind of girl who, if she smiled in just the right way, could easily send even the seniors running in the opposite direction. She was often blunt and upfront, never bothering to talk behind someone’s back if she could just say it to their face. In some ways, her I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude was almost admirable, and most people either envied or hated her. Or both.

It seemed unlikely that two girls with such distinctive differences could ever be friends. True enough, Dela and Shangela rarely ever crossed paths. Dela was often too busy going for student leader meetings or drama class, and Shangela spent all her time on the field making freshmen cheerleaders cry.

So when Dela entered her first dance class that year, and saw Shangela in the studio, she was, well, not quite apprehensive, but curious at least. She knew the rumours surrounding Shangela, of course - she’s a bitch and a real slut too sometimes, I heard she stole some girl’s boyfriend and blew him in the back alley last year - but nonetheless, never having really interacted with her, she didn’t want to make assumptions. She prided herself on being fair and congenial. It couldn’t hurt to try making a new friend, right?

She set her bag down by the side and made her way into the studio, already dressed in her nude leotard. Shangela was on her knees in front of the mirror doing stretches. Dela watched as she bent over backwards at the waist, hands landing gracefully on the floor to form a perfect bridge. Her eyes were closed, lips slightly parted as she breathed evenly.

Dela approached her, leaning against the warm-up bars. “That’s pretty impressive,” she began.

Shangela’s eyes opened, and she straightened up before turning to look at Dela, lips quirked in what could’ve been a smile, but probably wasn’t. She didn’t respond immediately, and it took Dela a few moments to realised she wasn’t going to get a reply. She coughed awkwardly.

“Um. So, anyway, I’m -”

“Girl, please, I know who you are.” Shangela cut in with a roll of her eyes, standing up. “Dela Creme, RuPaul’s poster girl, whatever whatever. And you know me as the bitch.”

She blinked. “More like, the cheerleader, so I didn’t really expect to see you here.”

Shangela easily forced her legs into a 180 degrees split and said, “I’m a professional. I heard y’all was hiring.”

Dela was surprised, but said nothing. She didn’t think Shangela was the kind to actually do anything outside of cheerleading, but clearly she didn’t play into that stereotype. It was noticeable in the way she moved, too, her body amazingly fluid, and as she stretched in that split Dela could see her lean and muscular thighs.

The instructor came in shortly after, and they got started on their dance choreography. Throughout the lesson, she couldn’t help but sneak a glance at the girl beside her, watching her precise and purposeful movements, always in time with the beat, perfectly in sync. Shangela was focused in everything that she did, that in-it-to-win-it attitude apparently evident in dance, too, and not just cheerleading. It was almost oddly mesmerising, and Dela found most of her attention on Shangela rather than the class itself. She hadn’t even realised that practice was over until the instructor dismissed them.

It had been a long day for her. She was tired, that was all, she thought while trying to rationalise her lack of focus during today’s practice. She started on her cooling-down exercises as people started to file out. The other dancers often left as soon as they could, but she always liked staying a little later behind, to get some rare peace and quiet.

Spreading her legs slightly, she slowly bent down to touch her toes. The burn in her thighs felt good, she was practically bent over halfways with her palms flat on the floor. When she got back up, she saw movement in the mirror, and whipped around to find Shangela halfway out the door, staring at her. There was no one else around.

“What?” She asked, suddenly self-conscious.

Shangela just smirked and left.

***

What people often didn’t know about Dela was that the exterior mask she put on hid a vastly different person on the inside. She’d always had to pretend to be someone else to be liked - and while it was her own decision, she did get tired of the whole shtick sometimes. She sometimes fantasized about saying fuck it and dropping everything she’d worked so hard for, but she knew she never would. There was nothing else for her but this life, and there was too much at stake. So she continued being the teachers’ pet, turning up for all her classes and club meetings, dating the perfect guy. And she told herself that she was fine.

***

“I’m not saying that I believe the rumours, but you should probably be on your guard, either way.”

Dela always had lunch with her best friend Jinkx, and her girlfriend Ivy, in the cafeteria. Benjamin used to join them all the time when he first started seeing Dela, but he now usually hung out with his football mates.

She thought about it while sipping on her orange juice. “She wasn’t that bad, she seemed kind of nice, actually? I mean, in a room containing Thorgy and Milk, she was at the very least bearable.”

Ivy giggled. “Well, when you put it that way…”

Jinkx shook her head, unconvinced. “You can’t always trust people who ‘seem nice’. Look what happened with Rolaskatox.”

Jinkx had run for prom queen last year, with Roxxxy, Alaska and Detox as the three other nominees. The notorious clique tried to ‘befriend’ Jinkx with the full intention of kicking her out eventually, but she snatched the crown nonetheless. She never held any grudges, water off a duck’s back and all that, though Dela knew that she was still wary sometimes.

“Alaska isn’t that bad,” Dela tried to defend.

“She’s the lesser of three evils,” Ivy agreed.

“You know what I mean. Just be careful. Maybe she’ll try to steal Benjamin from you - though we’d probably have to thank her for that.”

Dela sighed. She knew that they didn’t approve of him. Sure, he was always busy at football practice, and he sometimes stared at other girls, and he wasn’t always the most sensitive, but he loved her. And relationship was about compromise, wasn’t it?

“He’s not that bad, guys.”

“Who’s not that bad?” Benjamin appeared at their table, squeezing in next to Dela. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and planted a kiss on her cheek. From across the table, she caught Ivy and Jinkx sharing a look.

“No one,” Dela smiled sweetly at him.

“You’re actually spending time with Dela today? Not eating with your friends?” Jinkx’s lips were curled upwards in false cheer.

“Came down to see my favourite lesbians,” he chortled like it was the funniest joke in the world. “Come on, give a guy a show, can I watch y’all make out?”

Jinkx looked like she was about to snap at him, but Ivy clasped a hand around her fist and whispered softly into her ear. Dela slapped Ben lightly on his shoulder. “Stop it,” she chided.

Ben just laughed again. “I’m kidding, babe. Anyway, just wanted to tell you that I’ll be at practice tonight. Big game coming up and all.”

Dela frowned. “But we had plans for tonight, you promised you’d accompany me to Adore’s birthday party. I told you weeks ago -”

“Man, I’m sorry, I just can’t, okay? I know you understand. I’ll see you tomorrow, baby, love you.” He pressed another kiss against the corner of her lips and left. Jinkx held up a black-nailed middle finger to his retreating back.

“Honestly, Dela, he’s such a dick, why do you still -”

“Jinkxy,” Dela cut her off, pressing her fingers to her temple and massaging. “Please. I don’t wanna talk about it. We’re fine.”

Jinkx must have sensed her discomfort, and shut up. Ivy laced her fingers through Jinkx’s, the simple gesture instantly calming her down, and Jinkx turned to her girlfriend, love and adoration evident in her eyes. She leaned in for a small kiss, still smiling.

Dela watched the encounter with a slight pang of jealousy. She’d only ever been like that with Benjamin in their honeymoon phase, but their spark never lasted more than a few months. They’d been dating for almost two years, and she really still did enjoy his company, but she wasn’t sure if he was still that into her. She was completely okay with being the one who invested more into the relationship, but watching Jinkx and Ivy, so loving even years into their relationship, made her long for more.

A sudden increase in chatter volume made Dela turn around. The cheerleaders swarmed in as a whole bunch, with Shangela at the front, still clad in her white Halleloo Squad uniform. Her blond hair was tied up in a high ponytail with a white scrunchie, and she looked more like she’d just stepped out of the shower, rather than spent 3 hours sweating in the middle of the hot field.

“Jeez, the speak of the devil syndrome is real today,” Jinkx commented. Dela laughed.

She watched as the group sauntered over to the footballers’ table, most of them shamelessly flirting with the guys. Courtney was halfway draped over Andrew, tilting her head and giggling at everything he said. And Shangela -

Dela tried not to watch, she didn’t want to be the easily jealous or possessive type. But Shangela was seated right next to Benjamin, eyeing him purposefully, that lopsided grin on her face once more. She twirled a lock of hair around her finger, saying something that Dela couldn’t catch from a distance, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

Jinkx must’ve caught her looking, because she said, “Dela, she’s doing it on purpose and you know it.”

Dela turned to her friend, whose eyebrows were furrowed, eyes full of concern. She swallowed and looked back down at her plate, picking up her apple and taking a bite even though she wasn’t hungry. “You don’t know that. She could just be being friendly.”

“I think Dela knows what she’s doing,” Ivy said lightly, and looked at Jinkx meaningfully. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” Jinkx nodded and gathered her belongings.

Dela got up, but turned around one last time. What she wasn’t expecting was for Shangela to be unabashedly staring right back, and grinning. She winked.

Confused and flushing uncontrollably, Dela let herself be dragged away by her friends.

***

Turns out, Dela also shared another class with Shangela in Calculus, due to the timetable switch. She didn’t have any of her closer friends with her, so she was sitting alone in the second row when Shangela walked in. That in itself was a bit of surprise, given that A) Shangela was almost always late, and B) she usually came in a box. (It was a long story.)

Shangela picked the seat next to Dela, which was even more of a surprise. And her first words were, “You know, your guy’s kinda cute and all, but I don’t really know what you see in him. Kinda boring, huh?”

Startled, Dela took a moment to recover. She didn’t know what Shangela’s motives were. Did she want Benjamin for herself? Or was she sowing discord for no reason? She replied, “I’m sorry, that was kind of rude? He’s a great boyfriend.”

Shangela just snorted. “If you say so, cutie.”

Dela’s insides twisted uncomfortably. Shangela was really good at making her riled up for no reason, in a way no one had been able to before. Something about her just… got under Dela’s skin. It was unnerving.

She spent the rest of the lesson in silence, concentrating hard on the questions on her worksheet, trying to keep up with the pace. She forced herself not to notice Shangela’s messy scrawl of words across the paper, the smell of her cherry chapstick, or the way her collarbones jutted out when she leaned forward in her seat.

Needless to say, she kind of failed.

When the bell rang, Dela gathered up her things quickly, desperate for some fresh air outside the classroom. She had been cooped up too long, her mind a whirlwind of strange thoughts. She was the first one out of the classroom, and as she speed-walked along the corridors to the next class, she pretended not to hear Shangela’s voice calling out her name from behind her.

***

dela: jinkxy you there?

jinkx: what’s up darlin’

dela: oh uhm

dela: i don’t know… shangela’s been acting weird and it’s all a little confusing

jinkx: i mean i doubt she’s ever acted normal but

jinkx: is this about ben?

dela: umm… maybe? probably?

jinkx: you should talk to him

jinkx: and then probably also talk to her

jinkx: and then you can talk to me and i’ll tell you that you deserve better :-)

dela: awww you sweetheart

dela: but ok I’ll do that

dela: love you <3

jinkx: <3

***

Dela wasn’t always this popular. She was a bit of an outcast back in 5th grade, when rumours started spreading about her and Jinkx. They were just really good friends, but people thought it was more than that, and, well - 5th graders were insensitive and mean. Really mean.

It’s not like Dela didn’t already know that Jinkx was gay. She never had a problem with it, Jinkx was her best friend and she’d always be a hundred percent supportive. But Dela knew that she herself was straight, that she couldn’t not be straight, and it’d be weird for her to like like another girl. The thought of people calling her a dyke or a lesbo was downright frightening, and so she’d kept any strange or unnatural feelings she’d ever had to herself. She wanted to be a good girl, she wanted to grow up and be a successful woman with a loving husband and three kids and she wanted her family to be proud of her.

So she avoided the mean girls at all costs, throwing all her attention into her work and achievements in various fields. By the end of her sophomore year, she’d somehow also managed to catch the eye of the most popular boy, and that was when she started dating Ben. The girls no longer called her names, and she was more than happy to leave the past in the past. And if she ever felt like there was something missing in her life, a subconscious thought that caused mild anxiety to ripple through her, well, she was great at suppressing it.

***

“So… Do you know Shangela well or something?”

Dela tried to play her question as casual as possible, and predictably, Ben didn’t pick up the cue.

“Sort of. The Halleloo Squad’s always practicing while we’re playing footie on the field, so. She’s a popular one, isn’t she?”

“I saw her eyeing you, the other day in the cafeteria.” Dela shrugged as Ben turned to look at her. “She was flirting, and, I dunno, you seemed to be having a lot of fun too.”

He groaned. “Aw, come on, babe, don’t pull that card. You know I hate that whole jealousy bullshit. She’s just cool, okay? Christ, I swear you fucking do this to every girl I so much as make eye contact with.”

Resentment burned inside of Dela, but she shut up and dropped the topic.

***

Over the course of the next few weeks, Dela couldn’t help but notice Shangela everywhere. She saw her in the corridors while walking to her next class, talking and flirting shamelessly with Benjamin whenever he had a break between football matches, and on one particular occasion, smoking a cigarette alone behind the main building, a common hiding spot. She never seemed to be able to avoid the other girl - her aura was always present, to the point where Dela just always instinctively knew whenever she was around. It was driving her a little crazy, but the day she caught Shangela with Ben in an empty classroom was the final straw.

Dela was just looking for a quiet place to get her mind off things and finish her art project. Her favourite classroom, which was always empty after the main lessons, just happened to be occupied at that time. She’d heard voices from inside, and was about to go elsewhere to try her luck, when she recognised Shangela’s laughter. Followed by Ben’s voice.

She crept around the doorway, and there they were - Shangela sitting on the teacher’s desk, Ben with his arms on either side of her and pressing his lips firmly against hers, Shangela’s legs around his waist and arms around his neck.

Dela couldn’t tear her eyes away from the scene. She stared in shock, hand clapped over her mouth, until she couldn’t take it anymore and fled. She ran in the opposite direction as fast as she could, until she couldn’t breathe, until she was kneeling on the floor in an abandoned corner gasping for air.

She left for home earlier than usual, and stayed in bed the rest of the night, unable to get the mental images out of her head. The way Shangela’s fingernails were pressed into the back of his neck, her closed eyes with those long, long eyelashes, the way her lips interlocked with his.

She tried and tried and tried, but she couldn’t cry. She wasn’t even upset. Not even the slightest bit of anger at Ben cheating on her.

All she knew was that it all felt wrong.

***

dela: you’re a cunt and i’m breaking up with you.

[you have blocked benjamin putnam.]

***

Dela walked into the girls’ locker room the next day at 6, just as the cheerleaders were done showering after practice. She caught the tail-end of Alaska’s ‘byeeeeee’ as she left, and then there was silence. She hadn’t seen Shangela come out, so Dela knew she’d still be in there, and hopefully alone, so they’d get to talk.

She sat herself down at the benches outside the shower room and waited, nervously wringing her hands together. She needed to, as Jinkx so nicely worded it, ‘confront a bitch and punch her in the face’. Even after a sleepless night of her mind running endlessly, she still felt nothing but confusion, and she knew she had business to sort out with Shangela.

Soon enough, Shangela stepped out into the locker room, wearing a black and white polka dotted dress, wet hair dripping down her back. She raised an eyebrow when she saw Dela.

“You lookin’ for me, Miss Congeniality?”

Dela stood up and approached her, trying her hardest to quell the pounding in her chest. “Fuck you,” she said shakily. “Stop pretending. I know what you’re doing. You don’t fool me with your innocent act, I saw you with Ben yesterday.”

Shangela didn’t even bat an eyelid at that, just smirked, drying her hair with her towel while still looking Dela in the eye. “You enjoy the show? To be fair, he did come onto me first, I wasn’t even interested, so he can take credit. I must say though, still tasted the cherry flavour on him, don’t know if it was from you or some other girl -”

“Shut up!” Dela’s voice quavered, and her hands were trembling slightly. Heat pooled inside of her, but she wouldn’t let herself back down. “You’re a bitch, I know what they say about you, that you’re a slut with no morals.”

If anything, Shangela’s grinned widened. “I bet there’s one rumour you haven’t heard yet.” She stepped forward, inching closer to Dela, who started backing away until she was pressed against a wall. Dela hated how cowardly she felt, how powerless she was, confronting another girl over another guy when she didn’t even have the guts to admit how she really felt. She was lost and confused and utterly cornered by Shangela, who was merely five inches away by then.

Shangela leaned in and said softly, “Don’t you know what this is really about?”

Dela didn’t know what happened or who initiated it, but suddenly warm lips were on hers and she was kissing Shangela like her life depended on it. She was all soft skin and kissable red lips, and all of sudden everything clicked and made sense and for the first time in a long while, Dela felt like she was doing something right.

Shangela’s tongue brushed against her lips, teasing her gently and she couldn’t help but grab the back of her head and pull her impossibly closer, wanting more but not getting enough. She felt Shangela’s hands grabbing her ass moaned into her mouth, lifting her own legs to wrap them around Shangela’s waist. It felt so undeniably good, threading her fingers through the other girl’s hair and pulling, hearing Shangela make those soft little noises of pleasure, and Dela felt a pleasant shiver run down her spine. Kissing girls was a million times better than kissing boys, why hadn’t she ever realised? How could she have been so blind?

The loud slam of a locker door from somewhere in the distance snapped them both back to reality, and they practically jumped apart. Shangela looked positively ruined, hair wet and messy and eyes heavy with lust. Dela could only imagine how much worse she looked. Then her eyes widened in shock as it finally hit her - she’d kissed a girl, and actually liked it.

“Fuck,” she said, “Fuck, I’m gay.”

Shangela stared at her for one long moment, until she finally burst out in a fit of uncharacteristic giggles. Dela, still startled silly, joined in shortly after, until they were both laughing uncontrollably and gasping for air.

“I’m sorry,” Shangela choked, still wheezing, “You let a girl seduce you for weeks, then make out with her in the locker room like you’ve been doing it your whole life, and that’s the first thing you say?”

“I’m not thinking straight,” Dela grinned, leaning her head back against the wall and one hand braced on her stomach. “You know, you did actually flirt with Ben a lot, and I got confused about which side the jealousy ran, so that’s your fault.”

“Maybe not the best way to get your attention, but it worked, so.” Shangela, still slightly breathless but much calmer, smirked. “Wanna get out of here?”

“Hell yes.”

***

jinkx: so how’d it go

dela: i punched her

jinkx: wait what?????

dela: in the mouth

dela: with my mouth

jinkx: OMG WHAT DETAILS NOW

jinkx: hello???

dela: she’s kind of busy at the moment. -s

dela: or at least, her hands are. -s

jinkx: omg you fuckers

I want to die.

Depression is a funny thing. It hits you when you least expect it, it comes and goes in waves, it knocks at your door and enters without needing a key. It doesn’t care whether or not you’re busy or happy or sad or stressed. It makes itself comfortable at home and when it’s here to stay, there’s no getting rid of it.

I don’t deserve to be here.

Dela has a special place in Ben’s heart. Dela’s the happy one, Dela’s everything that Ben wants to be and more. Dela’s far from perfect, and he knows it, but neither is he, and he wants that positivity in his life always. He wants to put on a costume and shine brighter than the sun. He wants to live.

I can’t go on like this.

It’s a bit like karma, a small part of him thinks. He accused Bianca of sailing her way through season six, and now he knows what it’s like to be at the top and not be allowed to slip in the slightest. He’s trying his best, because he can’t accept anything less from himself. He needs Dela to give her all, but each time she turns it out, she’s only expected to keep it up.

It’s more than he can handle.

Not good enough. Never good enough.

“You’re a little lackluster this week.”

“You need to be at a hundred and twenty percent.”

“You’re letting it get to you. Move on.”

I don’t know how. I can’t stop this.

Morgan’s face keeps appearing in his mind. He imagines her cutting words and scathing remarks, and it’s a scenario that he knows will be burned into his memory forever. He never wanted any part of this, he just wanted to share his art with the rest of the world and let Dela take over. And when even Dela’s unsure, Ben’s practically quaking. He’s absolutely terrified, he hates all conflict and confrontation - it’s just not his style at all, and he can’t deal with the resounding voices in his head -

“You understand what a hypocrite is, right?” You’re a bitch and everyone wants you gone. Morgan thinks you’re a cunt, Trixie probably doesn’t even like you, Shangela hates you. Coward.

Let me die.

Dela’s fading quickly, and he knows it. Ben’s back to his depressing thoughts. It’s a cold, dark, sea, and he doesn’t know how to make it go away. Goth kitty emerges out of nowhere, and even then the negativity is no solace. There’s no catharsis from letting it all out.

You’re stupid, this is stupid, get over it already. Christ, you’re a useless piece of shit.

Talking to Morgan resolves the conflict, eases the tension. But it’s not magically all-fixing. He can’t stop thinking about what the rest of the girls actually think of him, actually see him as. He’s scared and depressed and a little lonely. He’s surrounded by amazing, talented queens and he has no idea where he stands.

Who am I, honestly, and what the fuck am I doing?

It makes no sense to him.

Everything’s wrong, it’s so wrong and I can’t deal with this. I’m going to come apart any moment and it’s going to be a shitshow and everyone’s going to see what a fucking mess I really am.

As they should. You’re disgusting. You don’t deserve to be here.

I should just eliminate myself.

When the thought first comes to him, it almost feels like his prayers have been answered. It’s a solution he’s been waiting for, and while he’s feeling conflicted about the fact that it has to end this way, he’s not mad about it. It’s a relief, now that he knows what he has to do.

He chooses Morgan to stay. He feels like he owes it to her, a little bit, and he’s glad to give her another chance. He hopes she makes good use of it.

When the time comes for him to pull out the black lipstick, he doesn’t know whether to laugh or to cry.  It’s a strange mix of emotions and he’s - he feels resigned, in ways. It’s the only logical answer, and he knows it’s time for him to go. He hears the gasps, feels the shock, all eyes on him. He hugs the girls and tells them they’re all all-stars.

I’m coming home.

The way back home is not easy. His mind glazes over for those last few moments leaving the workroom. He’s not thinking, he’s just mindlessly packing and watching the other eliminated queens do the same. He’s lost.

I’m a winner. It doesn’t matter. I’m a winner.

It’s only when he’s in the van on the drive back to Seattle, all alone, that it finally hits him, and suddenly the tears won’t stop. He’s not even sure why, but he cries and cries and hits his fists against the dashboard until his hands hurt. No one’s around to witness it, he doesn’t know where Dela’s gone, and it’ll be hours before he’s home.

I’ve given up the crown. I’ve proven that I’m not strong enough to stay on. I’m going home.

Everything within him aches, in every sense. His mind’s exhausted from running non-stop all week, his eyes sore, and he can feel the weariness in his bones. He wants to sleep and never wake up.

I’m so tired.

When he gets home, he abandons all his luggage at the door, texts Jinkx to tell her he’s back, and then promptly collapses on his bed. He expected to pass out instantly, but instead spends hours lying there in a fit of sleeplessness. He’s home, he’s finally home, and it’s not at all the way he expected it would be.

He imagines what would have happened had he stayed, he doesn’t think about who he would have eliminated, he thinks about the rest of the remaining girls. He thinks about his fans and their plausible reaction - whether they’d be upset or angry or just not care at all. It’s too late for anything to be done, either way, and he knows it - but the craziness in his head stays.

He thinks and thinks and it’s all too much. Exhaustion finally kicks in in the early hours of the morning. One last thought comes to him in the bare moments before slumber, before he goes out. It keeps him feeling a little safe, a little warm, and a little less afraid.

Life goes on.

Brian is happy. There’s no way he can be anything but. One Stone’s topped the charts everywhere, Trixie’s been crowned winner of All Stars 3 and he’s just earned himself a hundred thousand dollars. He’s over the moon, he’s nothing but delighted, fireworks are exploding in his heart and coursing through every single vein.

And when the sparks die out, when the viewing party’s over and he’s finally at home, de-dragged and lying comfortably on his couch - the sheer contentment is a warm fuzzy feeling inside of him, but others thoughts intrude. He doesn’t want to think, he doesn’t want to ruin the moment and have that joy tainted, but - the thing is -

He misses Katya. A lot.

No sparkling sceptres or diamond crowns or even billions of dollars could replace his best friend. He thinks of Katya, the way he laughs and wrinkles form in the corners of his eyes, the way he wheezes and everything smells like smoke, his impeccable deadpan humour and the special, private smile Brian’s only ever seen when they’re alone. Katya’s the light of his day and what gets him out of bed every morning, Katya’s grin is the sun, Katya’s heart is pure gold and Brian loves him so much.

He wonders what Katya’s doing in this moment, whether he’s sleeping or awake with a glass of scotch. He wonders if Katya’s happy, or sad, or even thinking of him in the slightest. He hopes Katya’s okay.

And maybe it’s a little narcissistic, but the same few guitar chords won’t stop playing on repeat in his mind.

“Soldier, take your time,” he whispers to himself, alone in his apartment, staring up at the ceiling and absentmindedly plucking the strings of the guitar that’s propped up against the couch.

His phone buzzes and lights up. It’s a text, and he almost thinks about ignoring it - but then he notices the skull emoji on the screen. It’s the one next to Katya’s name in his contact list, and it’s one he hasn’t seen in a long time. His heart leaps, and he grabs the phone.

K: Hey tracy. Congratulations. I always knew you had it in you.

The air around him drops. He has no clue how to respond to something like that. He types, “thanks”, deletes it, “that means a lot to me”, deletes it, “I miss you so fucking much and I wish you were here right now so I could hug you and never let go”, deletes it, “oh honey I love having it in me honey”, deletes it and nearly contemplates breaking his phone or maybe his fingers. Before he can reply, he receives another text.

K: I can practically hear you malfunctioning from all the way over here.

K: God, I’ve missed you.

Swallowing back the lump in his throat, he settles for the easiest reply.

B: I miss you too

And he has to put his phone down and physically turn away, because he can’t allow himself to think of things like Katya’s hand in his or Katya’s arm wrapped around him, or Katya’s expressive eyes, or, or - Katya. The raw ache in his chest hurts and squeezes all the air out of his lungs. He wants nothing more than to have his favourite person in the world right beside him, cheering him on and telling him that he can do it, his own personal cheerleader telling him that everything will be okay. Brian needs to hear it, and he needs Katya. The phone buzzes again.

K: Are you home?

Something like fear and anticipation and straight up confusion spreads through Brian, all at once.

B: Yeah

He doesn’t know what he’s expecting, but it’s probably not a ring of his doorbell mere minutes later. He hastily gets up and almost trips, his heart is pounding and he can barely believe it, but he opens the door and -

Katya looks different. His once short hair is now completely gone, and he’s grown out a scruffy beard. The dark eye circles haven’t faded much, but his eyes are a little more alive, more full of sparkle than Brian remembers. He’s got a thin jacket on that can’t possibly be doing anything to protect him from the cold, and his arms are folded over his chest protectively, new tattoos adorning his skin.

But he’s Katya, and he’s here when he should be miles away on his break. He’s here.

“Katya,” Brian says in a bare whisper, uncertainly, like the hologram might break any moment.

“Trix,” Katya breathes, and it’s possibly the most beautiful thing Brian’s ever heard. “Trix, it’s me.” He smiles widely, a real toothy kind of grin, it frames his face beautifully and Brian can’t stand it anymore.

They reach for each other at the same time, Brian’s arms wraps around Katya’s and squeezes tightly. He breathes in Katya’s ever so comforting scent, of incense and essential oils and tea leaves. Katya’s just a little smaller around the waist, but firmer and more muscled everywhere else. His nose is pressed against Brian’s shoulder, and Brian can feel the shuddering breaths he takes in, with the rise and fall of his chest. He’s so warm, and Brian can barely swallow past the lump in his throat, feeling Katya’s thumb soothingly rub against his lower back. It’s everything he’s missed, and everything he’s longed for ever since he’s back.

It’s a long, long time before Brian’s willing to pull away, if only to look into Katya’s eyes, take in the way he’s still a little lost and maybe a little haunted. It’s frightening, and the distance between them is miles wide. There’s so much Brian doesn’t know yet, about Katya and everything he’s been doing for the past few months, about the tattoos all across his forearms, the disappearance.

But Katya gives him a soft, hesitant smile, and it’s moments like this where Brian feels like the world around him has stopped spinning, like he has all the time in the world, with Katya. He grins back, and he probably looks stupid, still holding Katya’s hand like it’s a lifeline. It’s fragile, the tense air between them probably won’t dissolve anytime soon, but it’s okay.