au where s5 did not happen and mike and will move to nyc but they’re going to different colleges and they aren’t living together and will isn’t out to mike or anyone but jonathan, joyce, and el and mike isn’t out to anyone except for el, so mike makes queer friends on campus and they help him find acceptance and he starts going to queer social events and eventually he finds himself close friends with a drag queen. she says she wants to try a new look out on him, and he agrees to be her model, so she does a full face of drag makeup and he looks in the mirror and wow. he looks good. he likes how he looks. and his friend can see it in his face and she encourages him to come to drag events and she begs him to be her model more often, trying to get him more comfortable with the idea of him doing drag. she knows it’s something he wants, she saw in his eyes the same look she had the first time she tried on makeup. and eventually she gets him to sub in for a queen who got sick last minute. he doesn’t have to do much, just be in the background of someone else’s act, but he enjoys it. a lot.
his friend asks him, if he had a drag act, what would he do? and mike wouldn’t have a drag act, he wouldn’t. but hypothetically? he doesn’t know. and he realizes he wants to know. the question won’t leave him alone, and it’s just his curiosity, it’s just a hypothetical, but he wants to know. he tries things out, alone in his dorm while his roommate is at class. eventually he finds himself really enjoying a play he’s reading for one of his english classes. so he tries it out. he reads a monologue out loud, alone in his room. and he reads it again and again. he changes his inflection. he sounds more effeminate here, he sounds more southern this time. he just tries some things out. and then he imagines himself on a stage. it’s a sudden thought that pops into his head, but he can see himself, dressed up, with the stage lights shining up at him alongside dozens of glittering faces. he pauses for emphasis, and he hears them laughing and booing and cheering. he can see grins and open mouths, laughing, for him. and no matter what he does he can’t get it out of his head.
so he takes his friend and he sits her down. he does not tell her what for. he does not tell her why. he just asks her to please sit and listen. and he recites the monologue. it’s something he knows forwards and backwards now, and he chooses his favorite delivery, the one that had received the most imaginary applause. after he’s done, he’s frozen, feeling raw and open and vulnerable. his friend doesn’t say anything at first, and mike’s gut twists in anxiety. he knew this was stupid, he shouldn’t have tried, he just embarrassed himself in front of her— but she interrupts his apologies. “the character for this monologue. were you thinking a blue? or a green? because overall she’s giving blue, and i’m honestly struck by the idea of something glittery, but i’m open to discussion. i could also easily see something green or even velvet, you know?” and mike folds into her arms.
mike’s first show is terrifying. he hasn’t picked a drag name yet, and he starts off slow, with a slight tremor to his voice. but the first round of chuckles helps. and he straightens up. he’s not wearing a wig, but his hair has been plastered to his head in finger waves. his cheekbones and eyelids are accentuated by a pound of blue glitter, and he tries not to think about how the scooped neckline falls against his bony flat chest. there’s a slit in the dress, but mike is careful not to let it show any higher than his knee. but he finishes his monologue, and the audience cheers for him, and it gets after his friend comes onstage and informs the audience that it’s his first ever act. he gets so many compliments and reassurances after the show, from audience members and other queens, telling him how brave he was and how well he’d done for his first time. a man in his 50s told mike that during his first time onstage, he’d vomited from anxiety immediately afterward. a different man, looping his arm through the first, told him that his first time he’d burped in the middle of his song. so mike surmised that it definitely could’ve gone worse.
will has also made a large queer friend group at college. he sees mike a few times a week, but never friday nights. mike usually comes up with some lame excuse about why he’s busy that day, and will just decides to make that a standing day for his college friends. this week they want to try a new bar, on the other side of town. they usually stay within walking distance of at least one of their apartments, but this time they take the subway to get there. will’s friend had the show recommended to him, saying that there was a drag queen he just had to see. will and his friends found a table, not too close, but not too far from the stage. they’re talking and whispering to each other through half of the acts, just drunk enough to be slightly inconsiderate. so will doesn’t hear mike’s act being announced at first, instead helping his friends mop up a spilled beer. when mike begins to speak, will whips around. his eyes lock on mike, performing like an entirely different person. mike’s confident in a way will’s never properly seen, at least not since they were kids and their biggest concern was the science fair and whatever campaign mike was devising. and that same kid who liked to devise different voices for all the npc’s and the kid who would fall to his knees when will’s fireball defeated the villain, was onstage in front of will, looking gorgeous and giving the performance of his life. one of will’s friends gives a quiet whistle, and will fights the urge to kick him under the table. mike sees will when he’s almost done, and his voice chokes. will smiles and mike gives him a small smile and looks away, swallowing his pause. mike’s hands shake for the rest of the set, and he nearly stumbles offstage. will makes excuses to his friends and he runs off, trying to find mike. he’s stopped, and a drag queen only allows him to pass after giving him a good look up and down and after will said his name. “what do you need to tell him?” “that he’s beautiful.” will hadn’t meant to be so honest, but his heart feels like it’s sputtering out of his chest, trying to find mike, and will’s hands are shaking just like mike’s were and she points him to a closed door. will knocks, and mike tells him to come in, clearly under the impression that he’s the drag queen whose eyes are burning holes into will’s back. mike turns around and he sees will and will honestly can’t do anything but kiss mike, and mike kisses him back.
