Twice Two

In Boston, Plane was one of the most famous drag queens. She performed in different clubs and already earned enough to buy her own wigs, shoes, and quality pads. She understood she needed to learn sewing and tried, but her skills were only enough for bodysuits, which eventually became her feature. Her biggest dream was to get on RuPaul’s Drag Race where she could show herself to the world and later become even more popular. She had no doubt it would happen one day (doubt wasn’t in Plane’s nature). She was ready to audition every year, but the political situation in the world hindered the possibility that a Russian-speaking queen could get on Drag Race. But it happened. When her friends found out, they were genuinely happy for their sister. They had a very close family; they always stood up for one another. So they immediately started getting Plane ready for the trip: helped with looks, and her best friend Big Atlas sewed most of her outfits by hand and prepared wigs. ‘Show them what Boston can do,’ Secret said at parting, handing her a red fur coat. ‘Good luck, and don’t fuck it up!’ Plane waved and headed for boarding. She had created her entrance look herself, with Big Atlas once again helping with the wig. She intended to stun everyone from the start and show that this was her show. She had no doubt she’d make a big impression on the other contestants and the audience. But were they ready for it? The last few seasons lacked drama, everyone seemed to be best friends, and arguing was no longer the norm. Two outcomes were possible: either the audience would hate her, and her career would go downhill, or she would become a breath of fresh air and one of the biggest discoveries in the show. She had a choice to make-risk it or not?

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She thought about it a lot while preparing for filming: as she worked on looks, sat at the sewing machine with her sisters or alone, chose a character for Snatch Game (and she was sure she’d get there), and recorded her first song. She couldn’t bring herself to tell her mother about the upcoming trip and possible fame for a long time. She denied what her son was doing and never brought it up. But she had to when she found out about his desire to drop out of school. The conversation wasn’t easy. That day Yelena had the day off; she wasn’t burdened with work thoughts, and her mood seemed favorable for further discussion. But, in fact, Plane had no choice: only a month remained before departure. ‘Mom,’ Andy began, ‘we need to talk.’ Yelena tore herself away from her book and pulled the glasses off her nose. She carefully looked her son over, as if realizing that what they were about to discuss would greatly change their future lives. ‘What happened, Andy?’ This time she behaved more calmly. Maybe those five years had indeed been enough for her to come to terms with her son’s nature and choice of occupation. But she never said it out loud. That wasn’t customary. His father found out from her. Andy never managed to say it first. ‘Coward,’ he heard Plane’s voice in his head and knew she was right. ‘Mom, I’m dropping out of college.’ Yelena frowned and, looking away, sighed. ‘Again?’ ‘This time for real.’ Andy folded his arms across his chest and looked at his mother confidently. ‘I can’t finish college because I’m leaving soon. For a long time. And we won’t be able to talk.’ ‘And where are you going? Your previous trips didn’t force you to drop out of school.’ Yelena didn’t go into the details of these ‘trips.’ Plane and her sisters had traveled to different cities to perform. Once she went to visit her father, performing in a couple of bars along the way, but Yelena didn’t need to know these details. ‘I got into Drag Race. That is, Plane got into Drag Race,’ Andy corrected himself. ‘My big dream has finally come true.’ ‘Wait, what dream? What race?’ ‘I’ll be able to show myself there, to present Plane. And we’ll have everything — money, popularity, lots of fans.’ Andy’s face took on a dreamy expression. But his mother’s sharp voice brought him back to reality. ‘You’re delusional. Explain again: where did your Plane get in?’ Plane briefly explained what the project was. Yelena didn’t try to interrupt, she listened and occasionally shook her head. She sincerely tried to understand her son. And when he finished, she asked the question that tormented her the most, ‘Aren’t you scared?’ Plane thought for a moment. ‘Why should I be scared?’ Yelena looked at her, genuinely not believing Andy hadn’t thought about it. ‘If this project is that famous, the whole country will know about you — and this isn’t Boston. Are you ready to hear what they’ll think of you?’ Andy mentally grabbed his mother’s hand. There it was again. What they think of you… Every time Andy caught himself asking that question whenever he did something. And if it weren’t for Plane, he would have stayed that insecure boy forever. ‘They won’t learn about me! They’ll learn about Plane, and that’s a completely different thing! Have you ever seen my performances? Have you ever thought about how many people come to see me? And this time it’ll be much bigger!’ Yelena didn’t interrupt, didn’t turn away. A shadow of a smile appeared on her face. ‘Do you want me to come watch?’ Andy blushed suddenly. Did she really need to see it all? Maybe he shouldn’t have spoken so brightly about his success? ‘You need to understand that I perform in specific bars and for a certain audience. And my performances aren’t ballroom dancing.’ ‘Andrey, in five years I’ve realized you’re not performing in a puppet theater.’ Yelena couldn’t hold back a smile. She was glad to show her son that she wanted to know more about him. No, not him. About Plane. Yelena had never caught Andy in drag. After that evening five years ago, Yelena never entered his room without warning, and Andy was grateful to her for that. ‘Fine, look. You’ve seen me in heels and a wig. But that’s far from all. Plane has big breasts, and her ass is pretty big too. Are you ready to watch Plane and realize that somewhere inside is your son? On top of that, ninety percent of the audience is male, and these men hand me their money. Do you think you’re ready to see that?’ ‘Andy, do you think I’m a complete fool?’ Yelena wasn’t angry; she found the moment amusing. ‘Do you think I’d be shocked to see you with men? I saw your classmate kiss you goodbye.’ ‘Which classmate? Johnny? That was back in high school.’ ‘Yes,’ Yelena calmly confirmed. ‘And you never said anything? Why did you stay silent?’ Andy exclaimed. Why had his mother forced him to come out five years ago if she’d seen it with her own eyes? Andy was shocked and couldn’t hide it. Yelena gave him time to think. ‘I didn’t know what to say. Back then I thought it was just a phase. I didn’t even tell your father; I was scared of what he might do. And I chose to ignore it.’ ‘Right, what would people think…’ Andy muttered. ‘Stop it,’ Yelena said firmly. ‘It wasn’t for people. It was for you — I didn’t want to embarrass you.’ ‘And now I might embarrass you,’ Andy said, ‘if you actually come watch Plane.’ Yelena wasn’t embarrassed. She held on for a whole hour, and even when Plane started shaking her ass, she followed Andy’s advice and looked not at her son, but at Plane, the future drag star. She allowed him to suspend his studies on the condition that after filming he would return to college, despite Andy’s constant attempts to explain he’d never go into business.

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Plane decided to take the risk — Andy never would’ve. She got on the plane without the slightest idea where it would take her. On the one hand, Andy was a little scared, but on the other, Plane was ready to blow the place up. The flight felt eternal, and Plane imagined what her rivals would be like: some more experienced, some less; some fashion lovers, some campy; some easy to provoke, some ready to fight back. When Plane first entered the Werk Room, three girls were already there who weren’t anything special. The Piglet looked like one of those who’d be eliminated right after the runway. The Ugly resembled a clown; it was unlikely she’d show anything supernatural on the runway, but she might deliver some comedy. The Beautiful was a typical filler, dressed in her sisters’ hand-me-downs. For a moment Plane was even upset to find herself among such company, which couldn’t provide real competition. The last to enter was a mysterious girl with tall hair, a pile of glasses on her, in a bright yellow coat, and with a banana in her hand. She threw the banana at her feet and pretended to slip on it. And though the fall was deliberate, Plane shuddered inwardly. The girl got up from her knees, threw open her coat, and revealed a banana hanging between her legs. Her name was Nymphia. A sweet girl from Taiwan with an impressive wardrobe. But Plane suspected nice looks wouldn’t be her only asset. Looking over her rivals, she smirked. They made up only half the cast — the first group had already left their junk behind. Perhaps, apart from the girl with the banana under her coat, there was no one to impress her. She first talked with Nymphia when they started discussing what they planned to show in the talent show. Plane didn’t think it necessary to tell the others about her song: she knew no one could outdo her. And when all those empty shells, boasting about their incredible talents, asked what Miss Plane was going to present, she only looked away mysteriously, showing she wasn’t going to answer silly questions. ‘So what will you show?’ her new acquaintance asked, now changed from the yellow coat into a yellow T-shirt. ‘Something comedic?’ ‘Why are you so interested?’ ‘Well, I, for example,’ the curious girl cut in, ‘want to show a traditional dance. I’ve never done it before, but I decided to take a risk. I’d like to show my country’s culture. Usually, I just lipsync in clubs, and in between I create looks. I’m a seamstress by training.’ Plane was a little taken aback that the question addressed to her had been redirected. ‘So we’ve got a professional seamstress here,’ Plane said. ‘I make part of my wardrobe myself too, but I’m more about performing…’ ‘So what will you show?’ the seamstress interrupted again. ‘My song,’ Plane admitted proudly. Why did she suddenly feel the urge to boast to a stranger? ‘Wow, so you’re a singer! I can’t wait to hear your song, Planey!’ she said and went to her table, shaking her ass. ‘It’s Plane, actually!’ Plane called after her. ‘Miss Banana.’ ‘Nymphia!’ she replied without turning around. ‘Nice to meet you!’

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Nymphia never imagined what her first meeting with her rivals would be like. She didn’t know much about American queens, since she had spent most of her life in Taiwan, where she had her own drag family, including her daughters. When she passed the audition, she couldn’t believe it. Had she really made it into Drag Race? The competition didn’t scare her — she had years of stage experience. What scared her was the language barrier, which could be an obstacle in some challenges, like the acting scenes or the Roast, not to mention Snatch Game. She entered the Werk Room last. As it turned out, she was in the second half of contestants. The first half had already shown their talents and were resting at the hotel. Nymphia considered sewing her main talent. She had studied at an English design university for four years, and during that time she not only improved her sewing skills but also practiced makeup and began performing. That was what she wanted to do with her life. Shortly before leaving, she had decided to perform a traditional dance. It was a big risk — she didn’t usually do that — but it was worth the risk. Of all the queens, one impressed her the most: Plane Jane. She looked down on everyone, trying to cut them down with a single glance, and she was good at it. While others were chatting and fussing around the Werk Room, she observed everyone calmly and confidently. ‘I wonder what she’ll show in the talent show?’ Nymphia thought. The leopard bodysuit and tall wig screamed camp, but the confidence, the lack of nervous laughter, and the refusal to act like a clown made Nymphia hesitate. She herself hadn’t tied her drag to camp, but to stand out, she had put on that ridiculous flasher coat with bananas under it, one of which hung between her legs. She chose the song — Burger Finger. What nonsense. No act could outdo Plane’s song, not even Nymphia’s dance. She didn’t expect that under the mask of the Snow Queen was an energetic camp queen, ready to make a fool of herself — especially when she squeezed ketchup and mustard onto her oversized breasts. Ru’s laughter seemed unstoppable, so the week’s winner was obvious. It was time to vote. This time, all the contestants had to rank each other. Nymphia was confident in her choice, but Plane, who had announced earlier that she would play fair, suddenly didn’t seem trustworthy. She was far from simple.

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Plane lied when she said she would play fair. She needed to secure herself a spot at the top. Looking at Nymphia’s picture, she admitted the dance had impressed her — but Nymphia couldn’t outrank her. No one could. Plane took a breath and, with barely a flicker of doubt, placed Nymphia in last — sixth — place. Nymphia would never know. Unless someone told her. Plane won. Nymphia watched her lipsync with mixed feelings. On one hand, she saw a strong rival, someone it would be dangerous to lip sync against. On the other, she saw her moves, her grace, her looseness — and she didn’t want the performance to end. But it did, and Nymphia silently promised herself she’d demand a private show from Planey someday. Maybe they’d even perform together? After the filming wrapped, Nymphia approached Plane and teased, ‘Congrats, Planey, you deserved that win. When you release your song, send it to me — I’ll set it as my ringtone.’  ‘All right, Miss Banana,’ Plane replied in the same playful tone. ‘Sorry, I forgot your name. I just can’t get used to the fact that I’m not the only one here with outstanding talents.’  ‘So, you admit Nymphia has outstanding talent? By the way, that’s me.’  ‘Ah, right. Sorry, I’ll write it down in my little notebook. With so many people to deal with, it’s hard to remember every name. You know, your number wasn’t without charm — you showed you can really move…’  ‘So you liked it?’ Nymphia interrupted. ‘Did you rank me first?’  Plane hesitated. Tell the truth, lie, or dodge? She usually chose the third option — and this time was no different.  ‘Your dance really was impressive. At least better than Geneva’s,’ Plane admitted. ‘But, as you can see, the winner is standing right in front of you.’  Nymphia smirked and pulled off her wig. What was she really thinking? Plane turned toward her table and, without looking back, asked, ‘Do you often perform traditional dances? You’re pretty good at it.’  Nymphia couldn’t help but smile. She turned to the mirror and looked at Plane’s reflection — the marks from the corset on her back, the oversized padding on her hips. Nymphia had never worn pads that big, and she found herself wondering what was underneath.  ‘I don’t usually dance. Like I said, I’m a seamstress,’ Nymphia reminded her. She was sure Plane remembered but pretended otherwise, as usual. ‘But your question is a big compliment for me. I guess you don’t hand those out often.’  Plane pouted at her reflection in the mirror.  ‘Do you think I’m a villain too?’  Nymphia smiled as she began removing her makeup.  ‘No, I don’t. Because you’re not that simple, are you?’  ‘And what about you?’  Plane returned to changing. She pulled off her tights, the pads landing on the floor. Nymphia peeked into the mirror again and let out a quiet giggle.  ‘I’m just a little girl who loves bananas.’  ‘Speaking of bananas,’ Plane suddenly changed her tone, ‘time to return my bits to their rightful place.’  She disappeared behind the screen with a pair of panties in hand. Nymphia kept washing her face, imagining her peeling the tape from the inside of her thighs, trying not to curse. Though maybe she was used to it and didn’t even notice the pain anymore.  They finished by 9:30 p.m. and were given an hour to clean themselves up and their stations. Filming would resume at 8 a.m., so everyone rushed to the hotel, ready to collapse in bed. Plane was already bracing for the other half of contestants. If this half had only one worthy banana‑lover rival, the other might bring much more competition. She had to make it clear right from the start — this was Plane’s show.  Nymphia was exhausted. She didn’t even have the energy to look at Plane properly when she came back from behind the screen with a smug expression. ‘Sleep, sleep, and sleep,’ she told herself as she set her last things by the mirror. She noticed Plane had also lost her combative edge and was already nodding off.  ‘Ladies, let’s leave the room,’ came the assistant’s voice. ‘Time to leave the room.’  ‘Good night, Planey,’ Nymphia said, stepping closer. ‘Maybe tomorrow you’ll be nicer and won’t eat the other girls alive.’  ‘Don’t count on it, Miss Banana,’ Plane answered with a playful yet tired smile.  ‘Nymphia,’ she whispered in her ear, then vanished into the dark.