@of-dimples-and-superbness said [ rest ] your muse resting their arm over mine’s shoulder / s. "Look hon, it doesn't matter. You have to stand up for what you believe in. Any of the other guys do that every day in their own way. If your way is different, so what? They'll respect you for sticking to who you are and you have to stay true to you."
Feuilly shook his head leaning into Musichetta. It wasn’t that he didn’t want his friends there. It would be nice to have friendly faces in the crowed, it was why he drug Bahorel with him as often he could. And he knew, at the heart of it, what Chetta was saying was true, they were his friends. He even knew some of them would have fun with it, but his thoughts kept straying to their angelic leader, and his two right hand men next to him. He couldn’t imagine them sitting in the seedy bar, watching drag queens earn their wings. Almost literally, Feuilly still spent more time getting his eyeliner to work than anything else.
“This is different.” Feuilly countered, it was weak, even as he said it he knew. “I’m sure, I’m sure Enjolras has something to say about drag, that it’s, I don’t know transphobic or something.” Feuilly knew Enjolras wouldn’t say that, he knew well enough that it wasn’t. “Besides, I don’t know why they all want to come, I’m not even that good.” yet he told himself, he promised himself. He would get better.
But that was what was at the heart of it, that he wasn’t that good yet this wasn’t RuPal, and he didn’t want it to be but that was what was expected. How could a poor drag queen compete with expectations like that. He didn’t mind Bahorel seeing, Bahorel had seen the worst of him it more ways than one but the rest of the crew, he felt like he had to be perfect around them.
“I guess I just don’t know why they want to come.”
