Holding the pose again, trying not to huff and puff again. The whole experience brighter and more intense, because this time she was a hundred percent sober, as she hadn’t been for the previous dress rehearsal. Hymen waited for their director to say, “Cut! Good job, girls!” Then she relaxed and let her gaze drop from the light-obscured lounge to the front of the stage, where Imago was laughing with Likadik. Now was not the time to consider why seeing Imago laugh like that made her smile. She stepped down off the riser and helped push it to the back of the stage. They used a pair of three-step movables so they could fit nine queens on stage for the big “Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend” finale. Likadik was always at center in her white tie and tails, with four Marilyns on each side. It looked like a proper Las Vegas number.

With singing, dancing, and comedy, the monthly show kept the club popular with locals, as well as visitors. For Hymen, it was the best of both worlds. She could pose and stunt her way through something whack like “Diva Dance,” or she could sing and dance a solo like tonight’s “Cheek to Cheek,” or she could simply be part of the troupe. They were talking about adding a number inspired by the fashion show set piece from Singin’ in the Rain, brought up to date and twisted. Beautiful girl, ha. And she’d be here to do it.

Maybe she’d still be seeing Imago.

The thought lingered as they crowded backstage to get out of drag and clean up. Where had it come from, this sudden acceptance of change? She’d been angry about it at first. The collapse of the Four Queens living situation, losing her job, moving home, facing the fact that it simply wasn’t safe to be the Top Slut anymore. All her freedoms, gone at once.

Drinking let her pretend nothing was different, but she’d taken it too far, and she didn’t want to pretend. She wanted to be a real professional queen, right here at the Pink Pussycat, with Imago and the rest of these talented girls. A whole new life, and what was more free than that?

“What’s on your mind, honey?”

Wig off, Jaime stared at himself for another second, then transferred his gaze to Louis. “Have I told you how much I love your dancing?”

Louis blushed. Fluttered a little, trying to cover it as a search for a makeup-remover wipe. After a second he cleared his throat and said, “Thank you.”

“I actually really admire what all of you do here,” Jaime added. “This is way beyond what we ever did in LA. We were all too busy trying to make a living to think about being in a real show there.”

“Bitch, preach,” Louis said. “This is only ten years old, you know. Benny and Trish had a party one time, invited all us queens over to talk about the little things we were doing here and there. Then it was like, what if we went to the club and said, we could do a regular show for you. We had to get more professional about it. More like the old days.”

Jaime continued cleaning up as he listened. “What did you do before?”

“Before I started working in a casino’s legal department? Legit ballet dancer. Did the Ballets Trockadero de Monte Carlo for a few years.”

“Like Brooke Lynn Hytes? That’s so cool.” Jaime made a mental note to look the troupe up again, enough to have an informed conversation. Then his current preoccupation with the B word made him ask, “Did you meet Carlito on the job?”

“Sure did. I was in booking and contracts, he was in development. You know,” Louis paused to scrub a towel over his head. “God, that’s better. Next time we have a gathering, you should come.”

They made eye contact in the mirror. Jaime smiled. “I’d love to. Thank you.”

“And bring Dori, ’cause Carlito is thirsty.” They both cackled.