P
PunkPrince
Guest
Original poster
Kenny groaned and rolled over in bed as he heard someone knocking on his door. He recognized the voice as his grandmother, who was, as usual, shouting at him in Thai. "Hey! Kathoey! Get out of bed!" She rarely ever spoke in English, at least not to him. Especially not now. His grandmother's house doubled as a foster home, though most of the recent group of children had left. The only one left aside from himself was a seven year old girl named Mabel who, like Kenny and his grandmother, was also of Thai descent. For someone who had never been to Thailand she had managed to pick up the language quite quickly over the four years she had been staying with them. Of course, Kenny had never been to Thailand either, but he had spent his entire life being raised by his grandmother, who had been born there.
He stumbled out of bed, his vision slightly blurred from his lack of glasses. He slipped his glasses on and gazed around his bedroom. It was a complete mess. His various makeup compacts were scattered across his dresser, and the high heels he had worn while out with friends the previous night were lying on the floor. A long black wig was lying next to them, and his grandmother's affectionate teasing rang in his ears. Kathoey. Ladyboy. She had never been bothered by his drag. She had embraced it amazingly for someone as old as she was.
Kenny shoved the clothes on his floor aside and rummaged through his closet for something to wear. He eventually settled on a pair of jeans and a black button up shirt. He shrugged when he looked down at his hands and realized that his fingernails were still painted with the glittery red polish he had put on the night before. He doubted that there was time to take it off now, and besides, he thought it looked nice.
He was supposedly meeting his father and half siblings today. Kenny knew nothing about any of them. His father hadn't been around when he had been born, and he wasn't mentioned around the house. Kenny got the feeling that his grandmother didn't like his father much. The only reasoning she'd given as to why he was being welcomed into their house was "Mali would have wanted it." Surely his father wasn't all bad if his mother had loved him that much?
Kenny had never met his mother either. She had died giving birth to him. He had seen pictures of her, though. She had been a short, thin, pale woman, with dark hair similar to his own. Her eyes had been green though, leaving Kenny to wonder where his dark eyes were from. His grandmother had told him things about her too, how she had loved makeup and all things related to fashion, but his grandmother always seemed so sad when he asked, so as he grew older he simply stopped asking things.
He shuffled out of his bedroom and had to dart out of the way to avoid being slammed into by Mabel, who had been running down the hall. The girl abruptly skidded to a halt and then said in English, "Sumalee told me to tell you that your eggs are ready!" before turning and running back the way she had come. Kenny followed the girl into the kitchen and sat down at his usual place at the table. His grandmother sat a plate of scrambled eggs down in front of him, which he quickly thanked her for.
"Your friends coming over today Kenny?" she asked him, and Kenny raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised by her question. He shrugged. "Tommy probably will. He always does. I was supposed to do my first booked show tonight but I asked to have it moved to tomorrow because...you know." He didn't want his father and siblings to see him doing drag right away. He felt like it might cause trouble. "Lita will probably show up later tonight, we were supposed to go with Tommy and watch Cherie perform. Unless you don't want me to. I can stay here."
He said he could stay, but he really didn't want to. He had been watching his drag mother perform since before she had started teaching him. He liked going out with his friends. Tommy Gunn, whose real name was Haley Porter, was a drag king as well as the first friend Kenny had made watching drag shows. He hadn't known Lita Riot as long, he had only met her a year ago, when she had been picked up by the same drag mother as him. Lita's real name was Cody Rodriguez, though none of them ever actually called her by it, or used male pronouns. It was very rare for any of them to call each other by their given names. When they had first met they had all wound up introducing themselves with their stage names because of the settings, and it had stuck. Kenny was almost always Lucy, even as a skinny boy with glasses, Lita was always Lita--though she had been Lita Winters before Cherie had started teaching her, Tommy was always Tommy, and Cherie was always Cherie. At least to them.
"You can go," the older woman said. "But maybe you should take them with you if they want to go." Kenny sighed. He really didn't want to take his father and stepsiblings to a drag show. It was probably a bad idea. He thought his father had a lot of nerve to come back. Kenny didn't particularly care about meeting him. He had gotten along just fine without him for the past nineteen years, he really didn't need his father now. He would try to get along with them at least, if only for the sake of his dead mother.
He poked at his food, taking a few small bites, but mostly pushing it about with his fork as he listened to Mabel chatter on about something or other. He heard a knock at the door and his grandmother shuffled off to answer it. Kenny continued to poke at his food.
He stumbled out of bed, his vision slightly blurred from his lack of glasses. He slipped his glasses on and gazed around his bedroom. It was a complete mess. His various makeup compacts were scattered across his dresser, and the high heels he had worn while out with friends the previous night were lying on the floor. A long black wig was lying next to them, and his grandmother's affectionate teasing rang in his ears. Kathoey. Ladyboy. She had never been bothered by his drag. She had embraced it amazingly for someone as old as she was.
Kenny shoved the clothes on his floor aside and rummaged through his closet for something to wear. He eventually settled on a pair of jeans and a black button up shirt. He shrugged when he looked down at his hands and realized that his fingernails were still painted with the glittery red polish he had put on the night before. He doubted that there was time to take it off now, and besides, he thought it looked nice.
He was supposedly meeting his father and half siblings today. Kenny knew nothing about any of them. His father hadn't been around when he had been born, and he wasn't mentioned around the house. Kenny got the feeling that his grandmother didn't like his father much. The only reasoning she'd given as to why he was being welcomed into their house was "Mali would have wanted it." Surely his father wasn't all bad if his mother had loved him that much?
Kenny had never met his mother either. She had died giving birth to him. He had seen pictures of her, though. She had been a short, thin, pale woman, with dark hair similar to his own. Her eyes had been green though, leaving Kenny to wonder where his dark eyes were from. His grandmother had told him things about her too, how she had loved makeup and all things related to fashion, but his grandmother always seemed so sad when he asked, so as he grew older he simply stopped asking things.
He shuffled out of his bedroom and had to dart out of the way to avoid being slammed into by Mabel, who had been running down the hall. The girl abruptly skidded to a halt and then said in English, "Sumalee told me to tell you that your eggs are ready!" before turning and running back the way she had come. Kenny followed the girl into the kitchen and sat down at his usual place at the table. His grandmother sat a plate of scrambled eggs down in front of him, which he quickly thanked her for.
"Your friends coming over today Kenny?" she asked him, and Kenny raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised by her question. He shrugged. "Tommy probably will. He always does. I was supposed to do my first booked show tonight but I asked to have it moved to tomorrow because...you know." He didn't want his father and siblings to see him doing drag right away. He felt like it might cause trouble. "Lita will probably show up later tonight, we were supposed to go with Tommy and watch Cherie perform. Unless you don't want me to. I can stay here."
He said he could stay, but he really didn't want to. He had been watching his drag mother perform since before she had started teaching him. He liked going out with his friends. Tommy Gunn, whose real name was Haley Porter, was a drag king as well as the first friend Kenny had made watching drag shows. He hadn't known Lita Riot as long, he had only met her a year ago, when she had been picked up by the same drag mother as him. Lita's real name was Cody Rodriguez, though none of them ever actually called her by it, or used male pronouns. It was very rare for any of them to call each other by their given names. When they had first met they had all wound up introducing themselves with their stage names because of the settings, and it had stuck. Kenny was almost always Lucy, even as a skinny boy with glasses, Lita was always Lita--though she had been Lita Winters before Cherie had started teaching her, Tommy was always Tommy, and Cherie was always Cherie. At least to them.
"You can go," the older woman said. "But maybe you should take them with you if they want to go." Kenny sighed. He really didn't want to take his father and stepsiblings to a drag show. It was probably a bad idea. He thought his father had a lot of nerve to come back. Kenny didn't particularly care about meeting him. He had gotten along just fine without him for the past nineteen years, he really didn't need his father now. He would try to get along with them at least, if only for the sake of his dead mother.
He poked at his food, taking a few small bites, but mostly pushing it about with his fork as he listened to Mabel chatter on about something or other. He heard a knock at the door and his grandmother shuffled off to answer it. Kenny continued to poke at his food.