This time there was a crowd at Chrome when they arrived. Julio and his squad met them at the car and walked them in. “It’s sold out,” Julio said.
“Standing room only. We could stream it on the back wall and sell tickets if that wouldn’t totally fuck Hollywood Boulevard.”
Victor said, “It’s fucked enough already. Jesus, it’s loud in here!” And it was packed. It took what felt like forever to get to the green room. Now that the secret was out, they figured it would simpler all around to base themselves there. There were certainly plenty of people to watch out for Andy when he went to take his position at the bar. Victor stood out of the way, watching him apply his makeup. “If you had told me ten years ago that I would find it unspeakably hot to watch the love of my life put on false
eyelashes, I would have said you were loco.”
“I feel the same way,” said Vicky, in the next seat at the counter. “And when she takes them off it’s like, yeah baby, get naked.” Andy laughed.
“Oops, sorry. No sex talk while applying eyeliner. You’re really good at that.”
“Chorus boys have to do their own. It’s been a long time, but I guess you never really forget.” Andy checked the makeup, did a little work on his hair –
slightly long, and carefully cut so he could replicate Cyd Charisse’s style -
then stood up and went to his garment bag. “Okay everybody, avert your eyes unless you want to know everything about me.” He dropped his pants. Victor was leaning on the wall, watching the whole process as he had the night before. Watching his handsome husband turn into a beautiful almost-woman.
It was mesmerizing. “Better get your shoes on, catnip.”
A minute later they heard Rory. “Five minute warning. Five minutes to Act I.” They were both fully in costume. Checking each other, taking that opportunity for a last fond touch before they went out. “Two minutes.
Beginners for Act I, please.”
“That’s our cue, sweetheart.” Victor draped the cloak over Andy’s shoulders. They went out into the wing. Terry and their own escort were there to take Andy over to the bar. “Thanks guys.” Victor waited on stage behind the curtain. Listened to Rory make the announcement. The working light went off, and the curtain opened.
Same as the night before, the spotlight hit Andy, sitting on a bar stool with his legs crossed and his elbows resting on the bar top behind him. He opened up the cloak, revealing that sensational dress. Then, same as the night before, he straightened one long, long leg, pointing his foot at the ceiling before setting it down on the floor to begin slithering through the crowd.
Victor hadn’t registered who gave him a hand up to the low stage the previous night. Now he saw it was Terry and Sam. Thanks guys, he thought.
As soon as Andy was onstage they were both on the prowl, confronting each other, drawing embellishments on the floor with their feet. Quick, quick and slow. A tap, a flick, a spin. When he had Andy in hold, he said “I love you”
almost soundlessly. Andy didn’t break character, didn’t quite smile, but spoke the same words. Then the fight was on.
They held their closing position for a few seconds. It was fairly dramatic.
Victor was down on one knee with Andy’s upper back across the other thigh.
Andy’s ankles were neatly crossed and his skirt had fallen away to show the knife strapped to his downstage thigh. His gloved hand wasn’t on the knife, though, as it had been more than once during the routine. It was on Victor’s neck, pulling him down for a kiss. After a moment they tuned in to the applause. Andy said, “God, I really want to plop my ass on this stage and sit here till you pull me up.”
Victor said, “I feel like one shift of weight and I’m going to fall on my ass.” They both giggled. “We need help.”
“Oh screw it.” Andy dropped his downstage hand to the floor and more-or-less sat down, folding his legs as elegantly as possible while extracting his upstage arm from around Victor’s waist. “How’s that.” They were both still giggling.
Victor set a hand on Andy’s shoulder and got to his feet, teetering only slightly. “Fuck, how did we do this last night?”
“I can’t remember. Give me a hand.” Andy was up on his feet and they were taking their bows. They were both cracking up when they got offstage.
“What the fuck was that?” Rory was looking at them like they were insane. “That wasn’t how you ended it last night.”
They both said, “It wasn’t?”
“No! You did the split thing last night!”
“Oh damn! We did! No wonder we couldn’t get out of it!” Andy was leaning on the panel, wheezing.
“Oh shit.” Victor was laughing too hard to get more of a word out for a few seconds. “That was my fault. I took you down before you got your foot back. Jesus, we got lucky.”
“They want you for another bow. Go take your bow. You complete lunatics.” They went out, they bowed (still giggling), they returned to the wing. Rory brought the stage lights down so Sam and Mateo could get in position for their number.
As they headed to the green room, Victor was saying, “Were we late?
Because I was like, there’s the peak in the music coming, have to hit it, go down now.”
“I’m going to have to see the video. Jesus Christ. That was a damn good catch, honey. I didn’t even realize we did it wrong.”
“Well, the way you had your legs, it
