All for a good cause on At Home

Kir McLeod

August 03, 2020 5:18 AM

All for a good cause by Kir McLeod

From Kir's point of view, the night was going fabulously. Admittedly, his perspective had had dazzling stage lights in it for half the first half, and was still obscured by a very long pair of false lashes even now. But he was happy his friends had made it, had seemed to embrace it all, and - from the times he'd been able to check in - seemed to be having a good time. He was dipping in and out of their interactions, as he had things to do, but he was stopping by for a quick word here, or to stand next to Heinrich when he wanted to not feel like a looming great tree - he still had a good few inches even on him, thanks to being, he was pretty sure, an inch or two taller even in flats, coupled with the fact that he decidedly was not wearing those right now. Kir generally liked his height but it was sort of weird realising that occasionally a person’s head height was around his waist.

They had a rule of positive songs only for these nights, so he had performed 'Umbrella' which he always found uplifting, even if he had to tone down some of the more provocative cane work for this crowd. He had had fun playing with a new effect whereby the top layer of his outfit was water soluble so that when he had unleashed a deluge over his own head for the final chorus the cute LBD he had been wearing melted off him to reveal a gauzy rainbow number. He was going to have a lot of fun with much more provocative outfit reveals using that, although it was also nice to unfurl his trailing rainbow wings which had been wrapped up inside his outer layer.

He'd been busy even when he wasn't on stage, circulating, gradually shedding sparkles as he went - offering a bangle here or a ring there, wherever he received shy, wide eyed admiration. He was still six and half feet of coiffed and sparkling drag queen, so it wasn’t like he was in much danger of becoming ordinary, even as every one of the gauzy scarves that had made up his tail feathers got gradually plucked off and distributed to various teens. He worked the room, drawing people into friendly conversation near the info booths or pointing them over that way. There were two of these. One was titled

'How can we help: what the McLeod Foundation does' and the other 'How can you help: being a better ally in your school.' The McLeod Foundation poster outlined some of the basics about their services, with a heavy emphasis on the refuge and family counseling elements. A larger than life business card was displayed on the board, with handy arrows pointing out its main features. 'Logo will revert to green after the card is taken' with an arrow at the tree in the centre, which was currently a bright, attention-grabbing rainbow. 'Each card is imbued with Floo powder and enchanted with our address to bring you safely and anonymously to us. Suitable for both calls and travel.'

The school poster held various infographics, mostly along the themes of inclusive language, and creating open dialogue. One displayed a large number of synonyms that could be used instead of using 'gay' in the casual palyground sense of meaning 'uncool' whilst others educated on more gender inclusive language. Another had dramatically colour contrasting halves which read:
'What if I check in and it’s awkward, unwelcome, none of my business?
What if you don't and it's... isolation, homelessness, domestic violence, bullying, suicidal thoughts?
Difficult conversations save lives.'

The night pulsed on, with music and dancing, punctuated by conversation until it was time for the closing number. This was a little different to the drag show that had come earlier in the night. This was something that everyone could be involved in. It started with his aunt, and Kir found himself half mouthing along to some of the familiar parts of the speech, because they always closed like this...

"Thank you for coming tonight, whether you are here to support us financially, emotionally, or whether we're here to do that for you. We hope you've had a wonderful evening, and that you have everything you need to keep yourselves safe, happy and healthy over Christmas. We'll be handing out more business cards as you leave. We know the holidays can be rough, so we'd like to leave you with one more thing to remember. For that, I'll be handing you back over to your fabulous entertainers for the evening, Ms Crystal Balls and Ms. Charity Balls."

And then he and James made their way forward again, stopping in front of the stage rather than on it, whilst James talked.

"Thank you, thank you. We aren't going to stay up on stage for this one, we want to be down here with you, if you could all just back up a little - backer, backer, backer," he waved the audience until they were in a semi circle, making room for a piano that was being gently levitated from backstage and set down in the middle of the room.

"As you know, my name is Crystal Balls, and that means I can see the future. Now, I know Seers aren't always that reliable, but this prediction is more rock solid than my-"

"Keep it clean," Kir nudged, in a well-rehearsed cut off.

"Diamond ring," James fake adlibbed. "So, I'mma sing and my little sister here,” he gestured to Kir, making a point of appearing surprised by his height, “is gonna play, and you gotta know, with enough Crystal Balls and Charity Balls, things gotta work out right. We got you all some song sheets too, cos this is something we'd like to hear you all saying or singing and believing too," he waved his wand, and the song sheets made their way around.

Kir put his hands to the keys, swearing that next year he would remember how hecking hard it was to play the piano in fake nails, and either not bother with them for this show or actually practise that as a really niche life skill, and James sang - really sang, instead of lipsynching. Whoever was still there could gather around the piano, and could join in or join hands, so long as they were there and believing the words to Todrick Hall's 'It Gets Better.'

And then the night was over, and he watched his various accessories make their way into the Floo or out the door. Some kids tried to return them as they left, but he’d smile and say 'It looks better on you.' It was a deliberate tactic on his part, adorning himself with an excessive range of what he regarded as disposable accessories so that he could dispense them. Some took that easily. He noted which ones wore their accessories into the fireplace or out the door proudly and which tucked them back in pockets, or insisted he take them back - they couldn't, their dad wouldn't let them... The sneak-aways. Not yet runaways, but the ones who hadn't been able to be honest about where they were spending their evening. And he pressed business cards on everyone but especially them. There was the small silver lining of seeing a few regulars - those who had come to a few events and who he’d seen blossom instead of wither. He tried not to think about those he'd seen who didn't reappear. Hopefully they'd found other places to go, or had only been curious rather than in need in the first place.

As the door closed and the fire flickered back to its usual hue, he realised something he hadn’t really thought about when picturing his friends there for the evening - namely, that this was the part of the evening where, having seen out all the people who needed him to be a brave face, he customarily had an exhausted cry about the state of the world to his family, and that right now the room was still very full of other people. And he had to hope that they were every bit as willing to accept that guys cried and that some of them gave good hugs as they were with doing drag, because he was pretty sure he couldn’t do anything to make either of those things suddenly not true any more.

“Thanks for coming,” he smiled at them with slightly damp cheeks.

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