quick note: Heather/Booger is a joke from RPDR season 3. Basically Heather= pretty and/or talented, Booger= ugly and/or untalented. In this context, the queens are using it as like Heather= successful, popular, etc./Booger= gross, dirty, loser, etc.

Jiyong’s fingers drummed on the counter, where he leaned lazily beside the cash register. It was a slow day at work, but then again, not many people were rushing to buy coffee at noon. Well, that wasn’t necessarily true, but Jiyong didn’t work at a Starbucks, so it was safe to say that by noon, most of their customers had already gotten their morning coffee.

Jiyong had been working at said coffee shop since he had graduated college and he was actually one of the managers there, but it wasn’t like he was proud. There was a part of him that felt ashamed he simply worked in a coffee shop in his mid-twenties and hadn’t gone on to do anything with his degree. (Of course, Jiyong had majored in Linguistics, but he was an idiot and had trouble learning languages, so he’d barely graduated and what the was he supposed to do with that?) Jiyong didn’t hate his job; no, he actually quite liked it there, but his dream was to be a drag queen professionally. There was nothing he wanted more. Working in the club was a great step, but it wasn’t like he was going on tour or anything like that. He still needed the managerial job to pay his bills.

He only needed to stay for another hour, since he had opened at five. Jiyong was tired. He wanted to go home and sleep before he had to go to the club. If only his days off would correlate with one another, but they never did.

As the hour passed, Jiyong made seven cups of coffee for incoming customers. He left the shop in the care of a college age student, a kid named Moonbin, who Jiyong thought was a little familiar but wasn’t really sure why. He took the bus back to Youngbae’s apartment complex.

His best friend had kindly made him his own key and allowed Jiyong to have the entryway closet for himself for the time being. Once he was off the elevator, Jiyong unlocked the front door and slipped inside. He changed out of his uniform and into a pair of shorts and loose t-shirt. He threw himself onto the couch and cuddled the pillow under his head and shoulder.

The door to Youngbae’s room opened and Jiyong heard the soft pad of his best friend’s feet on the hardwood floor. Youngbae leaned over the couch to look at him.

“I thought I heard you come in. How was work? You had a short shift today.”

“Five to one is eight hours, dummy.”

Youngbae laughed. “Sorry. I judge everything by my two job hours, where I just work twelve hours a day.”

“That’s because you’re insane,” Jiyong said, turning to look up at his best friend. “How are you not more tired than me? And you have time to, like, work out and .”

“But I don’t have time to date!”

“That’s true. When was the last time you had a good ?”

“It’s certainly been a while,” Youngbae said with a forlorn sigh.

Jiyong rolled onto his back. “Hold up. Since when is my Bae not a anymore? We have known each other since we were twelve. How did this happen?”

“Come on, Ji. We both went to parties all through our late teens and early twenties.”

“And yet I never saw you ever go home with anyone.”

“Who said I had to go home with them? A bathroom or a closet can be made due with,” Youngbae said.

“Eww. You dirty birdy. Booger.”

Youngbae rolled his eyes. “Someone has been listening to too many drag queen slangs again.”

“I’m a drag queen. How else am I supposed to talk?” Jiyong demanded, playfully indignant with arms crossed.

Youngbae laughed. “Anyway, I was going to go grocery shopping before I head for the club. Do you want to come along?”

“Yeah. I just got paid on Tuesday, so I can toss in some cash for my own junk.”

“Cool. Let’s leave in, say, an hour? You can catch some z’s for a bit.”

“Bless you.”

Jiyong leaned up to kiss Youngbae’s cheek and his best friend laughed, patting the top of his head lightly before going back into his room. Jiyong shut his eyes and tried to force himself to sleep.

Sleeping had become his refuge over the course of the passing week. Jiyong had gotten used to sleeping on Youngbae’s couch and it was never unpleasant to live with his best friend, but there was still deep seated anger inside him towards Woobin. He couldn’t believe that he had kicked him out after seven years because he suddenly couldn’t accept that he liked to do drag. And just because he “didn’t get it.” It made Jiyong see red. He wondered if Woobin was telling the truth or he’d just come up with the first excuse he could think of to break up with him.

All the anger and disappointment had been making Jiyong manic since he’d arrived, though, and Youngbae had more than once found Jiyong up in the wee hours of the morning, not having slept, biting his fingernails and mumbling to himself. Jiyong had accidentally broken some of Youngbae’s dishes out of anger, of which he had replaced in haste, but he couldn’t stop crying when he realized he had done it. Jiyong had been making sure to take his antidepressants on schedule, but they didn’t seem to be helping him all that much. He needed to go see his therapist, but he hadn’t called yet. He just slept as much as he could, because then he couldn’t disturb anyone and didn’t have to feel.

Jiyong dozed off, in much need of sleep, and he didn’t dream of anything to his relief. He was awoken by the light shake of Youngbae an hour later, an apologetic look on his face.

“Come on, Ji. We gotta get ourselves food.”

“I’m pretty sure I would starve if I didn’t live with you,” Jiyong said, getting up.

“Don’t say that. It makes me sad.”

Jiyong hung himself over Youngbae’s shoulders, following him to the door. He separated long enough to put his shoes on, before linking arms with his best friend. Jiyong cuddled up to him and Youngbae let out a disbelieving laugh as they got in the elevator.

“If you keep hanging on me like this, I will most certainly never get laid.”

Jiyong scoffed and pulled away, crossing his arms. “Booger.”

“Stop with that Booger thing. Next thing I know you’ll be calling yourself ‘Heather.’”

“Maybe I am a Heather.”

Youngbae laughed and shook his head, walking out of the elevator as it pinged. Jiyong followed him to Youngbae’s car.

“I’m so glad you have a car. With air conditioning too. It’s hot as right now.”

“Yeah. It’s a convenient thing to have. What happened to yours anyway?”

“Woobin sold it because it broke down. ,” Jiyong grumbled as he got in.

Youngbae let out a soft sigh and drove them towards the grocery store.

After they’d been in the grocery store for a while, the cart had filled up with numerous things. Jiyong leaned against the basket’s rail, watching as Youngbae compared squashes carefully, trying to figure out which would be the best purchase. Jiyong was useless at cooking, so he just watched lazily.

“Youngbae, do you think I should start a drag family?”

“You already have a drag family,” he said, deciding on a squash and dropping it into a bag. He then moved over to do the same with the bell peppers.

“My own drag family. I mean, basically everyone at the club is a daughter of Heenim, but he advised we should all branch out. Daesung got a drag daughter out of Seunghoon. Maybe it’s time I had my own drag daughter.”

“Why do you say that?”

Jiyong pushed the cart after Youngbae, following him as he moved every few feet to appraise more vegetables.

“I don’t know. I’ve been doing drag for seven years. I could help someone grow. Start the house of Dragon. Maybe give myself some more involvement in the community.”

“Which girl would you take on?”

Youngbae turned back to him, dropping his various bagged veggies into the cart. Jiyong looked at him, remaining leaned against it.

“I’m thinking Jinwoo.”

“I knew it. He really admires you. It’s cute.” Youngbae pulled the cart along. “I think it could be good for you. You need outlets when you’re going through a rough patch.”

Jiyong blew out a sigh and followed along. He knew his best friend was right, but having it said to his face kind of hurt.

“If you’re going to do it, though, really commit. I think you should think about it a little longer. Maybe run it past Daesung. Also, consider some of the other baby queens. I think you could mentor Taehyun too, if you really wanted to.”

“Taehyun? That kid’s never even talked to me.”

“I can tell he admires you,” Youngbae said.

Jiyong lifted an eyebrow. “How do you know?”

“Just trust me, okay?”

Jiyong nodded and laughed a bit. “I’ll think about it. Thanks.”

Youngbae patted his shoulder and led the cart towards the checkout line.

Jiyong showed up to the club later than he intended, but that was still early in terms of when he would perform. He headed backstage with his bag to find some of the other queens already getting prepared. Jiyong waltzed over and beside Daesung, who was amid talking.

“Do you think it’s too much?” the other man asked.

Jiyong looked at who Daesung was talking to. It was Seungri, whose real name was Seunghyun, but for some reason he didn’t go by that. He was a newer queen at the club, though he’d been working there for over two years. Seungri was hot and had a hot body. He was originally one of the pretty boys who would act in the queens’ stage productions as needed, but one day he had asked Heechul and Daesung to put him in drag. From that day forward, he had become Riyonce. Depending on the night, his role would fluctuate. It appeared that Seungri had just bleached his hair white blond and was seeking Daesung’s approval.

“I think it looks pretty, Ri-yah,” Daesung assured.

“. It’s not fair that you’re hot as a boy too,” Jiyong interjected.

Seungri turned his eyes on Jiyong as they lit up. “Hyung, hi! Do you like my hair?”

“Seriously, Seungri. You’re tanned to the gods and your hair is platinum and you look hot as . I wish I was as hot as you all the time.”

“Maybe you should bulk up like Dae-hyung and I.”

Jiyong turned his gaze on Daesung.

He was handsome too, with strong features and musculature. And yet both he and Seungri looked great dressed up as women. Meanwhile, Jiyong looked androgynous every day, even unintentionally, his body slim and the epitome of a .

He sighed a bit. “I want to be hot.”

“You are hot, Jiyongie. In a different way than we are, is all. If you weren’t hot, you wouldn’t have men clawing at you all the time,” Daesung said, slipping an arm around Jiyong.

“Name one guy who has clawed at me in the last five years. I’m a Booger.”

“You are most definitely a Heather, my beautiful Jinah. You get the most tips out of all of us.”

“That is not true.”

“It is!” Seungri agreed.

Jiyong’s cheeks colored. “You guys flatter me. I’m glad I’m here.”

“The bar is open!” Youngbae’s voice rang.

Seungri lit up. “See ya!” He took off quickly.

Jiyong laughed and shook his head, then leaned into Daesung, who still held him. Daesung rubbed his arm lightly.

“How are you doing today?” he asked gently.

Jiyong pressed his head into Daesung’s chest. “I could be better.”

“Well, let’s have a good night. Why don’t we decide what D-Lite and Jinah Dragon should wear tonight?”

“Okay.”

Daesung let go of Jiyong and they went over to their clothes rack. Daesung’s was overflowing with numerous outfits, but Jiyong’s was barely half full. He used to keep most of his outfits at home. He pulled open his bag and hung up what he’d brought with him, realizing what he was missing. It put a hole in his heart, bigger than he’d thought it would when he faced reality.

“This …” he mumbled.

“What’s wrong?”

“I realized how many clothes I’m missing. They’re still at Woobin’s apartment.”

“Why haven’t you gone to get them?” Daesung asked.

“I don’t think I can see him yet. I’d probably kill him.”

“Well, I can’t blame you, but you need your things. He can’t just keep them.”

“Maybe I’ll try to call sometime soon,” Jiyong said.

“It’ll be okay. If you need help getting stuff, let me know.”

Jiyong nodded and perused his clothing, feeling upset at the fact that most were mismatched. He would have the top to one outfit and the bottoms to another, or he had a dress but no heels or leggings to match. It frustrated him. Taking a step back, Jiyong ran his fingers through his long hair.

Daesung gently came up behind him and tied Jiyong’s hair back in a neat bun, rubbing his shoulders right after.

“If you want, you can borrow something from me.”

“Thanks, Dae. Sorry I’m such a wreck.”

“Never,” Daesung said with a kind smile.

Jiyong smiled and went over to his table, unpacking his makeup supplies. At least he had all of his makeup. If any of it had been left behind, Jiyong probably would have broken Woobin’s door down with an axe to get it back. He’d sunk thousands of his hard earned Won on name brand makeup.

Having gotten it all set out, organized just as he liked, Jiyong looked at himself in the mirror. He picked up his tweezers and began to pluck his eyebrows, leaning in close intently. Once he had finished, he dug in his bag and sighed.

“Dae, do you have your razor? I forgot mine,” he said.

“Let me grab it for you.”

Daesung went to his own table to get it, but was interrupted by a lanky, loud boy coming in.

“Eomma! I need help!”

Daesung turned to welcome his drag daughter into his arms.

Gangly and loud, Seunghoon, whose drag name was Joy to match with Daesung’s, had come to the club only a year before, but had proven to be a natural comedy queen. He and Daesung were extremely close. He always tended to be a little over the top dramatic, but Jiyong liked him alright.

Seunghoon threw himself into Daesung’s arms, draping himself over his drag mother. Daesung rocked him and his back sweetly. Seunghoon then pulled back.

“Eomma, my dress completely ripped at the bottom! It looks ugly now.”

“Let’s take a look at it. I’m sure it’s not so bad.”

While Seunghoon threw down his bag and drew out the buttercup yellow dress, Daesung grabbed his electric razor for Jiyong. He handed it to him as Seunghoon trailed behind him. Jiyong took the razor, but watched how the mother-daughter couple interacted. Daesung took the dress and appraised the tear in the fabric. Seunghoon worried his lip, leg bouncing in his place.

“This isn’t going to be hard at all. Two minutes on the sewing machine, tops. You really need to learn to sew, young lady,” Daesung said, crossing to the other side of the room.

Jiyong smiled a bit, listening as Seunghoon promised he would study while trailing behind Daesung to the sewing machines in the other room.

He plugged in the razor and shaved down his stubble, making sure to go over it twice, once with the grain and another time against. Once he had finished, Jiyong began to paint Jinah onto his face.

It was a relatively simple process for him, something he’d been doing for a long time. First, he disappeared his eyebrows with a glue stick. After applying all the basic layers of makeup to make his skin smooth and one tone, Jiyong started on his highlights, contours, and blending. He’d gotten to be a pro at it over the years and it took no time at all for him to make his face appear thinner and more feminine. He would put on large eyelashes and take time to give himself perfectly symmetrical eyeliner wings. Lining his bottom lid with the lashes on always gave him a little trouble, but he’d get it done. Then he would draw his eyebrows on and put on vibrant eyeshadow. Final touches were a bold lip color and a beauty mark beside the corner of his left eye.

When Jiyong looked at himself in the mirror, he didn’t see himself but Jinah looking back at him. She was beautiful and it filled him with happiness that he could do her justice by painting her onto his face.

“I like your eyeshadow tonight. The sparkle is a nice touch,” Daesung said, returning to the table and beginning to unpack his own makeup.

“Thanks. Would you mind if I borrow some jewelry from you?”

“Not at all. Have at it.”

Jiyong gave a grateful smile. He went to his bag and drew out his pads, then snagged the outfit he planned to wear off his rack. Stripping his pants and underwear, Jiyong tucked himself with ease before slipping into a pair of .

Daesung let out a soft whistle, which made Jiyong flush and push his arm.

“Shut up!” he cried.

“Oh, come on, Jiyong. Be proud of that .”

“I am proud of my , but you don’t need to wolf whistle over it every day! Besides, you have a totally nice . You have the nice muscular one that has the divots in it.” Jiyong made the hand motion as he described it.

Daesung just laughed and continued to blend his makeup. Jiyong slipped his fishnet stockings on and began to insert his pads, making his hips appear curvier.

Jiyong was considered to be a less conventional drag queen, because he chose not to pad as much as other queens did. He only padded his hips to give a better shape to his body, but his naturally thin and lanky build made it easy for him to appear feminine without much help. He knew he didn’t even need the hip pads, but he’d been used to them. Jiyong also never wore a plate. He had when he’d first started drag, but as he had developed his own unique style as Jinah, he’d decided to forgo it.

He slid a pair of shorts up and over his legs, fastening them at his belly button and feeling as they cinched his waist in the way he liked. As Jiyong changed out of his ratty tank top into a sleeveless flowy top with a draping neckline, revealing a sliver of his pale chest, he looked over at Daesung.

“So, I was thinking…”

Daesung made a noise of acknowledgement as he painted his heavy and over exaggerated eyeliner on. Jiyong sat down in his chair, undoing his long hair so he could put on his wig cap. As he gathered his hair to hide it underneath the cap, he spoke again.

“I’m considering taking a drag daughter.”

Daesung stopped his painting, turning to Jiyong, only one eye finished with huge eyelashes. His face broke into a grin.

“Really?! Oh, who are you considering?”

“Jinwoo.” Jiyong made sure his cap was on right before looking directly at Daesung. “I’m still thinking about it, but what do you think?”

“It could be great. Being a drag mom is so fun. They look up to you and need you for everything. I love it. It might be good for you. It could take your mind off of things.”

Jiyong nodded. “Yeah…Maybe I should wait until I’m in a slightly better place.”

“It’s something to consider though. A goal. I’d be happy to help you out when you decide to do so.”

“Thanks, Dae.”

Jiyong checked his makeup one last time in the mirror before pulling on a loosely curled pale blonde wig that fell to his biceps. He made sure his bobby pins and wig tape were in place before declaring himself done. All that was needed for the stage were a pair of shoes and some accessories.

Jiyong reclined in his chair, watching Daesung finish putting his makeup on. He loved the overdone eyeshadow and lashes that comedy queens employed. If only Jiyong was funny.

“What song are you singing tonight?” Daesung asked.

“G.NA’s ‘2HOT’ and probably CL’s ‘Baddest Female.’”

“Oh, I love when you do ‘The Baddest Female.’ You do so well jumping between cute and y.”

Jiyong laughed. “I guess. What are you performing?”

“Joy and I always do a song or too by Orange Caramel. Then I’ll probably sing ‘It’s Raining Men’ or something.”

“Have you ever considered doing a serious song?”

“I’ve thought about it,” Daesung said, “but it’s not really my shtick.”

“But you have one of the best voices I’ve ever heard.”

“We all lip sync though.”

“Well…still,” Jiyong argued.

Daesung shook his head and walked away to get an outfit. Jiyong took the time to slip on the long necklace he’d borrowed from Daesung and a pair of earrings. On went some large bracelets and fingerless gloves.

“Good evening, eonni!”

Jiyong looked to see Jinwoo, who had just come in, all doe eyes and happy smiles. His sunny disposition was quite contagious. He smiled softly and waved to the young queen, who hurried over to his station to get ready.

As Jiyong heard the mic go live and Mino’s voice calling out announcements on who would be performing that night, he got up to get his shoes. He slipped his feet into the stiletto boots with spikes on the sides, giving him his boosted inches.

Jiyong had become Jinah.

“Let’s give it up for our one and only, Jinah Dragon!”

Mino passed Jinah and she gave him a polite little nod, which warranted a blush. A smile spread on her lips as she walked out onto the stage. There had always been something gratifying about being able to rile a boy up with just a simple look. Jinah gave a few waves and made sure to blow a kiss to Youngbae at the bar before getting into position.

The music started and Jinah’s body began to move to the beat, her hips swishing. She saw as every hip and chest pop got someone’s attention, all eyes on her as she performed. It made her feel alive.

When Jinah was on stage, she was all that mattered. She was the center of the universe for the ten minutes she was allowed on stage.

She made sure to point out how in sync her lips were to the music as she made her way down the stage. Near the end of G.NA’s “2HOT,” she did her ever famous death drop in the middle of the stage, reveling in the sounds of awe.

Jinah got up and went back to the main stage, collecting the microphone from Mino to say a few words.

“How are you all tonight?” she called, a grin spread on her face. “Did I scare you with that death drop? By now you should know it’s no challenge for me.” She winked. “Do we have any birthdays in the house? Bachelor or bachelorette parties?”

Various groups made sounds to answer her question and she made sure to blow a kiss to each and every one.

“How about CL fans? Any CL fans up in here? I can’t possibly be the only one,” she said, cocking a hip.

More screams erupted and she laughed cutely into the mic.

“Well, good, ‘cause this is ‘The Baddest Female.’”

Jinah whipped her hair as the song began and she danced her way back down the stage. She plopped down on the edge, legs swinging playfully as she acted out her performance. Jinah was a diehard CL fan. She’d never met someone who loved her as much as she did and it’d always been her thing to know all of her songs.

She felt powerful.

At the end, Jinah made sure to lean down to the nearest table and blow a kiss, causing a man’s cheeks to flush red in embarrassment. She giggled and pranced back up the stage, before stepping off.

Jiyong felt his knees weaken and for once he actually collapsed in his spot backstage. Becoming Jinah took so much out of him and yet after every performance, he felt as if he’d been allowed to be his true self, freed from every confinement he’d ever experienced.

He blotted his face with the back of his hand, sweaty from dancing intensely. Daesung brought him a water. Jiyong smiled up at him.

Aside from his overdone makeup, Daesung looked like some rich evil stepmother in a Korean drama. Jiyong couldn’t help laughing and accepted the water to hold it in.

“Good job tonight, Jiyong. Jinah is always such a stunning creature.”

“Yeah…” Jiyong took a gulp of water. “She’s my everything.”

Jiyong had gone home and conked out on the couch, curled up with pillow and blanket comfortably. When he had awoken, he had attempted to call Woobin. He wanted his things. He needed to get them. After losing his precious shoe, he wanted the rest of his belongings with him. He didn’t know where it was all going to go, because Youngbae lived in a one-bedroom apartment and certainly had no extra room for all of Jiyong’s crap, but he needed it. He couldn’t let his ex-boyfriend keep his precious belongings.

Jiyong tried calling three times, but each call only rang two times before going to voicemail. He knew he was being screened and it made him angry.

He tossed his phone across the couch and crossed his arms over his chest. A loud “hmph” burst out of his mouth and he imagined that he looked like a sizzling pan, all red and angry. His stomach grumbled then and it ruined his brooding. With a dramatic sigh, he got up to go find food in the kitchen.

Jiyong opened the fridge and was delighted by the sight of it bursting at the seams with food since they’d gone grocery shopping the day before. A small wrapped dish was inside with a sticky note and Jiyong pulled it out.

Go out and get some fresh air. Please stop drinking all the beer. I’ll be home around five and maybe we can go for dinner. Luv ya -YB

Jiyong sighed. He had hoped Youngbae hadn’t noticed the amount of beer he’d been drinking lately, since he was depressed, but apparently he had. He set the note aside and unwrapped the dish, finding Youngbae had made him grilled salmon over rice with a side of salad. His best friend knew him so well, it made him cry.

Jiyong heated his food and carried it back into the living room, perusing through his clothes to find something to wear for the day. He settled on a pair of cut off shorts and a loose t-shirt, going to change once he’d finished his meal. He washed his face and shaved, pushing his hair back with a headband that he didn’t bother to take off once he was done.

He left the house about half an hour later, carrying his few necessities with him. He decided to head for Cheongdam-dong. There was nothing Jiyong liked more than torturing himself by looking at clothes he couldn’t afford. But he figured grabbing some Gongcha and wandering around a trendy area would make him feel a little better.

He took the subway and, once he’d found his way onto the streets, stopped by the closest Gongcha to get a drink. Once he had a milk foam tea in hand, he headed out to walk around. Jiyong lit a cigarette on his way. He alternated between sipping on his tea and taking puffs off his cigarette.

Jiyong was ready for an adventure.

After an hour or so, Jiyong felt calm, if nothing else. Despite that, he was depressed he couldn’t pick up anything he’d seen in the windows. His walk had become just that—a walk.

He almost missed it. Almost.

Jiyong passed by the tiny shop, but his eyes registered what he saw and he backtracked. Getting closer, Jiyong could just feel it.

At the top of the display tiers was a single bright pink high heel accented with lavender. It was surrounded by champagne tulle and a champagne glass that was embellished with more fabric and pearls to simulate the bubbly drink. It was really quite pretty, but Jiyong couldn’t quite appreciate it because he was absolutely sure that the high heel sitting in the middle of that top tier was his missing shoe.

The shoe looked nothing like his lost glittery pink pump and yet he knew that the shoe in the window was one and the same. Perhaps it was just the shape that told him, but he knew. A little piece of relief flooded his chest, but it quickly turned to anger.

His shoe had been taken and changed. How could someone be profiting off of his lost shoe that meant so much to him?

“Who the hell sells one shoe?” he said with a huff.

Jiyong went to the front door and pulled it open, the bell ringing above his head. He marched in angrily, empty Gongcha cup with cigarette butts inside still in his hand.

“Who the hell runs this place?! I demand to speak with the owner! My stolen shoe is in that display window!” Jiyong hollered as he approached the counter.

The small doorway to what he assumed was the back storage was hidden by strings of rainbow colored beads instead of a door. The beads were pushed aside and a man’s head popped out, looking straight at Jiyong.

Jiyong could actually feel as the color drained from his face. He wanted to scream “” loudly, because lo-and-behold, the man he had met at the bus stop only a week prior was standing before him.

A bright smile broke out over the man’s features and Jiyong couldn’t help thinking he was cute, noticing how a dimple appeared in his cheek. Jiyong hated it, because he didn’t need that drama in his life at that moment. The man came forward to the counter and placed his hands on top.

“I’m the owner of this place. If you looked, your shoe isn’t for sale. I made sure to say that. But I can’t believe you could tell it was your shoe! What are the chances?” he said quickly, deep voice higher than last time they’d spoken, probably due to excitement.

“W-Why do you have my shoe?”

“Well, you lost it at the bus stop and I couldn’t just leave it there. Poor baby, it doesn’t deserve that fate.”

Jiyong lifted an eyebrow, confused by the man’s choice of words. The man smiled and grabbed a business card, offering it to Jiyong.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Choi Seunghyun, professional high art shoe designer and cobbler. Welcome to my shop.”

Jiyong accepted the business card, reading the small description and the name of the shop and its phone number. He held it and looked back up at Seunghyun, who seemed to be waiting for him to respond.

“I’m Kwon Jiyong. Nice to meet you,” he said then.

“I’m glad we could meet again, Jiyong. If you don’t mind me asking, why do you own such a fine pair of high heels?”

Jiyong felt his cheeks blush. It wasn’t like he went into a store every day and the person he spoke to knew about his hobbies. His eyes fell to his Converse and he scuffed one against the clean tile of the shop. Seunghyun didn’t press, remaining silent on the other side of the counter.

“I’madragqueen,” Jiyong mumbled out.

“I’m sorry. Could you repeat that? I couldn’t hear you.”

Jiyong bit his lip and crossed his arms over his chest, looking up at Seunghyun. He steeled his nerves and looked directly into his eyes. “I’m a drag queen.”

Instead of a scowl, Jiyong got an even bigger smile than when Seunghyun had first seen him in the shop. His eyes looked like they were glittering.

“A drag queen! Why didn’t I think of that immediately? Silly me. Well, that’s quite interesting. Your shoe was quite well loved.”

“Well, yeah,” Jiyong said, “I’ve had them since I started doing drag. They’ve been with me for almost seven years.”

It hit Jiyong that those shoes had been in his life almost as long as he had been with Woobin. They’d been a part of how he had changed over the last seven years. Since he’d lost Woobin, maybe he needed to let go of the shoes. It left an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Seven years? I’m surprised they’re still together. That’s great.” Seunghyun smiled. “If you want your shoe back, please go ahead and take it. I made it for you.”

Jiyong’s cheeks flushed. “E-Excuse me?”

“I thought a well-loved shoe deserved some new paint. So, I hope you like its new look. I’d be happy to do the other one as well, if you would bring it to me.”

“O-Oh, I…You really didn’t have to do such a thing.”

“I wanted to,” Seunghyun said.

Jiyong gulped and nodded. He slid Seunghyun’s business card into his jeans pocket and went over to the front window display. He gingerly removed the shoe, feeling the smooth glitter gloss and looking at it. It felt like his old shoe and yet it was like a brand new one.

“This is beautiful,” he said softly, turning back.

Seunghyun had come around the counter, leaning against it. He smiled again. “I’m glad you approve.”

Jiyong didn’t say anything, looking down at his shoe and admiring the detail. When he finally looked back up, he saw Seunghyun staring at his feet.

“Uhh…”

“I know this will sound horribly strange, because we’ve just become acquainted, but would you let me measure your feet?”

Jiyong flushed. He wasn’t sure how to respond, so he awkwardly stood there. There was part of him that told him to run away, but the other part said that this man had yet to do him wrong, so what could be the harm? He nodded.

Seunghyun motioned to a small chair nearby and Jiyong went to take a seat. Seunghyun snagged Jiyong’s empty plastic cup and went to throw it out. Jiyong tentatively untied the laces of his Converse and kicked them off. Seunghyun returned with a small clipboard of paper and took a seat on the small stool in front of Jiyong. He pulled a tape measure off his belt and held it out, his hand getting close to Jiyong’s foot.

“May I?”

Jiyong appreciated that he asked, even though Jiyong had already agreed to do it. Even though it was just his feet, it felt like a strange boundary to be crossing on only a second meeting. Jiyong gave another silent nod and Seunghyun carefully held his foot.

Jiyong watched in mild fascination as Seunghyun measured his feet in various ways, writing down all kinds of things. He felt uncomfortable, but safe at the same time.

“Alright. That’s it.” Seunghyun sat back. “Your shoes don’t fit you, do they?”

“Oh, umm…no, not entirely.”

“I see.”

Seunghyun got up and went to look at something on a rack. Jiyong put his shoes back on and got up, carrying his refurbished heel. Seunghyun turned back to him.

“Would you mind coming back tomorrow? I’d like to give you something.”

Jiyong flushed lightly again, but nodded. “Okay.”

Seunghyun beamed. “See you then! Oh, and please bring the other shoe.”

Jiyong nodded one more time before he left.

Jiyong sat on the couch in Youngbae’s apartment, looking at the shoe on the coffee table. He’d set it out beside its match, though they no longer matched, and marveled at the work that Seunghyun had done. He had to give it to the man that he was indeed a shoe designer, because his work was top notch.

The door to the apartment opened and Youngbae came in, removing his shoes with ease. He stopped, yanking his headphones out, to look at Jiyong.

“Hey. What’re you up to?”

“I got my shoe back,” Jiyong said, motioning to the shoes on the coffee table.

Youngbae came over and looked down at them. “These shoes are nothing alike.”

“I know. But this shoe,” he pointed at the newly refurbished heel, “used to look just like that one.” He pointed at the original glittery pink heel.

“No way.”

“I’m not joking, Youngbae. This guy…He fixed it up for me.”

“What guy?” Youngbae asked, his voice taking on the protective tone.

Jiyong shook his head. “Let’s go get dinner and I’ll tell you.”

Over dinner, Jiyong told Youngbae all about how he’d encountered Seunghyun at the bus stop, been given money for the bus, and lost his shoe. Youngbae didn’t seem to believe him, but Jiyong insisted. He couldn’t believe he had run into the same man a week later and he’d refurbished his shoe.

“Then he asked if he could measure my feet, so I let him,” Jiyong said as he stuffed a piece of pork chop into his mouth.

Youngbae choked on the perfect ssam he had made. He coughed a few times, took a sip of water, and then gave Jiyong an incredulous look. “You did what?”

“I let him measure my feet?” Jiyong shrugged and ate another piece. “He asked me to come back tomorrow.”

“Are you gonna go?”

Jiyong hesitated for a moment, stuffing more pork and rice into his mouth. He shrugged then. “Probably.”

“Jiyong, this situation is really weird. I don’t think you should go back.”

Youngbae had his overprotective brother mode switched on and Jiyong had to hold in the sigh that wanted to fall from his lips. Sometimes Youngbae could be really overbearing when he got protective. Jiyong appreciated he wanted to protect him, but they weren’t five and Youngbae couldn’t shield him from everything.

“Why?” Jiyong asked.

“You don’t know this guy. You’ve met him twice, both in sketchy situations. He measured your feet and then asked you to come back. What if it’s like a horror movie and he’s going to take them?”

Jiyong started laughing. “Oh my god, Youngbae, you’re such a weirdo. I really doubt that he’d wait a whole day to chop my feet off if that was his goal.”

“It’s just weird. I don’t think you should see him again.”

He shrugged. “We’ll see.”

Jiyong didn’t listen to Youngbae. Then again, when did he ever? Jiyong had woken up late, a tad hung over from drinking at the club the night before with Youngbae after dinner. He had put on a cute outfit, wanting to at least look good for the handsome man he was going to meet. Jiyong knew he needed to have a good long talk with himself about how he didn’t need a man in his life, but god damn if he would pass up the chance to get a hot guy interested in him for a bit. He’d thrown the other high heel into his bag before he had run out the door.

Jiyong stood nervously in front of Seunghyun’s shop. He finally pressed the door open and saw Seunghyun chatting with a customer at the counter, a bag sitting there. Seunghyun smiled and gave him a little wave, not missing a beat in his conversation. Jiyong decided to look around, perusing the few shelves filled with various shoes.

Each were unique and different and Jiyong was impressed all over again. The bell over the door rang as the customer left and he waited to approach the counter. When he turned around, Seunghyun had come around the counter to greet him with a box. Jiyong took the opportunity to give Seunghyun a once over.

The man wore a fluffy tan sweater and a pair of jeans that hugged his legs in all the right ways. His black hair hung in his face as opposed to the coif he’d had it in the last two times. What really distracted Jiyong, though, was the fact that there were tiny flecks of neon colored paint in the ends of his hair, as well as a bit on the underside of his chin.

Before Seunghyun could speak, Jiyong pulled his old high heel from his bag.

“I brought it for you, like you asked.”

Seunghyun smiled. “Thank you. I’ll give it the royal treatment.”

The cobbler took the shoe in exchange for Jiyong taking the box he held. Jiyong held the box in his hands, not sure what to do. Seunghyun placed the heel on the counter and turned back to Jiyong, eagerly motioning for him to open it.

Jiyong opened up the box’s lid and laid eyes on a pair of high heels. They were peep tones with a faux snake skin pattern on the outside. The insides were dark pink and the stiletto heel had a gradient from gray to white. The bottoms were painted red as if they were a real Louboutin pair.

“What are these?” he asked.

“They’re for you. Please, try them on and tell me if you like them.”

Jiyong flushed, but he did as he was asked. He removed his shoes and slid the heels on. Jiyong in high heels put him at six foot usually, giving him a good four inches. He was taller than Seunghyun in them. But what surprised Jiyong was that the shoes fit his foot like a glove. They matched his arch and curve, the length of his toes, and gripped the back of his heel just perfectly.

Jiyong walked back and forth in the shop, testing their comfort. They still hurt just a little, because they were new, but they were definitely the most comfortable pair of high heels he had ever tried on. He stopped and looked at Seunghyun.

“Are you a wizard?”

Seunghyun laughed and shook his head. “Not at all. I’m just good at my job. Do you like them?”

“I love them. The style is pretty me and they fit so well, I’m impressed.”

“Great! Take them.”

Jiyong stared at him. “What? Oh no, I can’t. I cannot pay for these.”

“I don’t want you to pay for them. I want you take them. They’re for you. A gift,” Seunghyun said matter-of-factly.

Jiyong’s eyes widened. He couldn’t be serious. This man could not be giving him such expensive shoes without something in return.

“Are you sure? I could pay you a little bit. They’re not worth what I can offer, but I really can’t take these in good conscious.”

“No, no. I don’t want your money.”

Jiyong couldn’t believe it. Why the hell was this guy being so nice to him? But there was something so gratifying in being given a gift that meant so much to him and his career. Comfortable shoes meant a better stage performance and new shoes meant new outfit combinations, new possibilities.

He had to hold in the tears that threatened to fall. Jiyong didn’t know what he should do, could do, so he offered the only thing he knew he was good at.

“If you want, maybe you could come to my club and see me perform? I’d wear the shoes, just so you know they’re going to a good home.”

Seunghyun’s face lit up and he nodded. “I would love that.”

Jiyong gave Seunghyun an extra flier for the club, which he luckily had in his bag. Seunghyun promised he would stop by sometime soon. Jiyong thanked him again and left the shop with his new shoes in hand, tears ready to fall down his face.

That night, Jinah put on the snake skin shoes and looked at herself in the mirror. A smile spread on her crimson colored lips. They were perfect and she’d be damned if anyone tried to take them from her. This Seunghyun fellow was a blessing and he wasn’t going to go anywhere if she could help it. But something told her that it was very unlikely Jiyong would let him slip away so easily either.

I know I said chapters would be under 5k, but here I am ^^;
tbh I could write Ji and Dae talking drag for hours, but I'll try not to do that so much next time haha