FicWad

IVORY
A/N: This is original, though the area called 'le village' does really exist in Montreal, Quebec, Canada. Don't worry, ratings will go up. There will be sex!

IVORY

Chapter one
It Begins with Perfume

--
I have a secret. Actually I have two secrets. Some people would say they go hand-in-hand, but for me, they're separate. You, who are reading this, are here to witness my story. Right now, I will tell you my secrets, and I promise it will not spoil the plot of my life for you... Or maybe it will. I suppose that's for you to judge. My name is Ike Cohen, and I am a drag queen. I am also gay, but most would assume so after the first secret.

The thing is: I do not believe that my attraction to men has anything to do with my passion for performing. To me, being a drag queen is my form of artistic expression. It is no different than a mime, a juggler, or a magician. Nobody would look at them and simply know what their sexual orientation is. Just like them, I perform to entertain people. I sing and dance in bold makeup and sequins because that is what I love to do.

But you are not here to listen to me defend myself. You want a story, so I will tell you one. I could begin where it all began, but that would go back too far, and take too much time. Instead, I will begin the day it happened. The day I decided to become a drag queen.

I was small for my age, and gender for that matter, and was often regarded as pretty. For the most part, I was a normal guy. Being 21, I was an art student at university. My days consisted of school and hanging out with my friends. I had always liked video games and anime, and I was a big fan of martial arts movies. My parents never suspected me to be feminine in anything other than how I looked.

My best friend, Mace Lonneherr, had broken up with his girlfriend on the day he was going to take her out to the theatre to see a play. He had decided that he didn't want to sulk and put his life on hold just because of some girl's bad timing, so he took me to the play instead. Montreal is a big city, but our neighborhood was tight-knit. It wasn't uncommon to run into friends randomly on the streets or in shops.

Mace lived only a few blocks away from me in a ridiculously expensive loft that he shared with his older brother. After the play ended, that was where we were headed, since his brother should have left for a photo shoot by then - his brother Eddie Lonneherr was a model. When we exited the metro - the subway system - we found a couple of our other friends standing outside waiting for someone. Haley and Ava. Since they always hung out in a trio, I assumed they were waiting for the third, being Liz.

Mace walked up to the girls, greeting them with a wide smile. He had been in love with Ava ever since he moved to Canada from New York. "Hey Ava, what's going on?" He casually leaned against the wall with the girls. "Did ya like the play?"

"We thought it was fine," Haley piped up. "The real question is, how'd you two lovebirds like it? I thought you were going with Carol but then I looked down and saw an even prettier face at your side, you vixen, you! Why didn't you tell us you were wooing our Ikey?"

I cringed as Mace laughed. I hated it when they talked about me like I was a girl. Not only was it embarrassing but they always spoke in such demeaning tones. I was certain that even if I were a girl, no way would I let them get away with calling him 'Ikey', nor would I even date Mace in the first place. But Haley knew that, and that's why Haley did it.

Haley smiled and fished a lighter and cigarette out of her pocket. As she lit it and shielded the flame from the wind with her hand, her eyes remained on me as if she were considering something. In a carefully sly tone, she spoke, "Isn't it your mom's birthday tomorrow, Ikey?"

"My wha...? AH! You're right! Oh shit, what am I gonna do? I gotta get her something! What do I get her? ... Man I suck!"

Ava laughed, and stole the cigarette from her friend for a quick puff. "Don't panic, sheesh. Go into the drug store over there, and buy her some perfume or something. But if you do go for perfume, remember to smell it first. You don't want to give her something that smells like Mace's ass."

"Oi!" Mace faked an insulted pout. "My ass don't stink!"

As entertaining as that anti-conversation was, there was a drug store just waiting to be shopped at. I figured most people wouldn't consider it shopping but it was better than spending hours wandering around a mall. I left the group with the assumption they'd wait for him. Mace wasn't the type to ditch anyone for a girl, even if it was his beloved Ava.

I stepped off the curb, crossing the street meters from the actual crosswalk, and made my way into the store. I went through two entrance doors, and headed straight for the side of the store where all the makeup and perfume and jewelry was. It was like as soon as I stepped into the perfume aisle, a wall of aroma hit me. But it wasn't bad or too strong, it was just weird how it managed not to stray out of that area.

There were all kinds of stuff. A lot of it didn't even say what it smelled like, just named the brand. Those were to be stayed away from since I didn't know a thing about perfume brands. Not many of them were out to be tested, but there were some interspersed within the rows. It was times like that I wished I would have tied my hair back in the morning. It was long and red and curly, and it kept falling forward whenever I tried to smell something.

I opened one cap and brought the tester thing up a bit so I could sniff it, only to wrinkle my nose in disgust. Way too strong, and it didn't smell anything like Jasmine and sweet pea, not that I had any clue what sweet pea smelled like, but surely it wasn't that! I put the thing back down, shaking my head adamantly in rejection, and partly to try and get the smell out of my nose.

"That company has never produced anything that could possibly serve any other purpose than insecticide."

That wasn't the typical conversation strangers usually initiated with me, though I wasn't exactly surprised by the male voice. With my hair, people often mistook me for a woman from behind. I turned around expecting to find a humiliated stranger only to see a familiar tall blonde - who wasn't embarrassed at all - apparently having known exactly who he was speaking to.

It was Mace's brother.

Eddie had been on a trip, modeling for a New York City based company for over a year. Apparently his contract had ended about a week ago and he had simply refused to renew it without giving the company any reason why. He was very attractive. Silky blonde hair that was neatly cut just below his ear, a distinguished jaw-line, enchanting green eyes. Not to mention a body that could make any woman or gay man's mouth water. But strangely I had always been afraid of the man, finding those chiseled features to always look so... angry. Never had I ever seen that man smile.

In response, I took a step away. "I... I'm sorry."

"What are you apologizing for, Ivory?"

"Ah-I don't know. Hey, that's not my name!" The fact that he used a nickname that I hadn't been called since I was a child - long before Eddie had ever came to Canada - kind of threw me back a little. I knew I was a little pale for most people's liking, and couldn't catch a tan to save my life, but it bothered me when people pointed it out.

"I know what your name is."

I frowned, staring up at him. It was so intimidating being so close to him when he was so much taller than me. Although, I was used to being looked down at, and belittled by everyone, since Haley did it on a regular basis. Still I was a little pissed off that someone who barely knew me would do it too. "Then call me by it. I get insulted enough without you adding to it."

"Insulted? Don't be so selfish. There are millions of women and young girls who would kill to have your flawless complexion." Eddie's eyes scanned the products on the shelves, and his voice was cruelly indifferent. "You take it for granted. Next time someone calls you 'Ivory', you should thank them."

"You... You mean... you complimented me? You? Why the hell would you do that?"

Eddie ignored the clueless question. The man reached passed me, pretending not to notice as I cowered back slightly, and took a test bottle off the top shelf. He uncapped it before saying, "This will suit you better, It's an oriental blend of Lemon, mandarin, and lily."

The delicious fragrance came to me as I inhaled. I leaned forward to take in even more of it, and looked at the bottle. It was so good, I almost wanted to buy it right there. The price tag said $13.95. Not a bad price for perfume. But regardless, I didn't think it was cologne, and I'd just be made fun of if I bought something like that for myself. "I'm not shopping for me. I'm getting something for my mom."

"Are you sure?" Eddie quirked a brow and dabbed the tiniest of drops on my neck.

I shivered at the contact, somewhat shocked by how cold it was, but the feeling quickly vanished. "Yeah... Hey! What's that supposed to mean? It's my mom's frickin' birthday tomorrow. Why are you trying to promote perfume to me anyway, I'm not a girl. You work here or something?"

"You're a funny guy." Still there was no sign of a chance that the guy might crack a smile. As sarcastic as ever, he was. "I don't suppose you know what scent your mother likes. You might as well play it safe and go for earrings."

"Um... Ok... Thanks."

Eddie simply nodded and walked away, disappearing into the shampoo aisle.

...

After a successful purchase, and being teased about how good I smelled, the five of us - Liz somehow found her way back from wherever she was - headed for Mace's apartment. Of course, there wasn't a soul who would pass up a chance to hang out in a model's apartment, but I felt a little nervous about it without knowing why. After running into Eddie I was a little unnerved

They had settled down on the couch and chairs, I sat cross-legged between Mace and Liz. I didn't know Liz that well, which was why I was happier that it was her and not Haley near me. A show was playing about a girl who talked to ghosts, and solved their problems.

"Why the hell would ghosts go to her?" I looked at Mace, directing my question at him since the others never took me seriously, not that I was being all that serious at the moment. "Who'd trust a ditzy little girl to help them move on?"

Mace shrugged, and stretched, considering the question. "Since no one else can see them, I assume it's because they haven't any other choice."

"Or," Haley grinned at her favorite victim - me -. "Maybe it's because she's hot. Wouldn't you enjoy a total babe helping you pass on? It would make for a good last memory of the mortal realm. You see, this is why you two weirdos are single and end up going on dates with each other. You're too picky when it comes to women."

"I've been single for just a friggin day," Mace scowled at Haley with disapproval. "Give me a break."

Haley rolled her eyes and leaned forward in her chair. "What about you Ikey? I don't think I've ever heard about you going on a date. Is our little Ikey still a virgin?"

The girl always put me on the spot like that. But I wasn't about to give her the satisfaction of seeing me squirm. So I casually looked her right in the eye and cracked a faint grin. I spoke jokingly. "Yeah, I am. Women are too troublesome and annoying."

"You little twerp." Haley laughed, and jumped on the couch, wrestling me down until she pinned me against Mace. It was a little depressing being weaker than a girl. Ava and Liz cheered her on while Mace simply continued to watch TV. Haley faked a snarl and grabbed a hold of my red hair, only managing to incite laughter out of me. "I ought to teach you a little empathy! Girls, what do you say we give him a little makeover?"

"I'm in!" Ava clapped her hands excitedly, easily drawing Mace's attention. "Where'd I put my bag?"

It didn't bother me that the girls were talking about doing me up like a doll. Not in the least. I suppose that should have been my first sign to tell me what was going to happen, but I didn't see it. To me, it was just being out-going and flexible. Other normal guys let their female friends paint their faces at least once, right?

For that reason I didn't fight. I even grinned and sat up once Haley allowed me to do so. Mace didn't seem to notice or care what was happening, so I didn't either. I watched Ava pull out a bunch of makeup out of her purse, and said jokingly, "Oh alright, but no pink. That's where I draw the line."

Mace snorted, and smacked me on the back. "Nothing goes better on Ivory with that hair, than red."

"Ivory?" There was that name again. I turned to look at Mace only to have Haley grab my face to hold it still as Ava started applying cover-up. Still that didn't stop me from talking. "Since when do you call me Ivory? Hell, since when do you even know the names of skin tone shades?"

"Oh come on. I live with a frickin model. As much as I despise the mainstream plastic people ideal, a little knowledge has rubbed off on me. And it helps that Eddie always calls you that when we talk about you behind your back."

At the mention of that name, the scent of that perfume flooded back to me. "Wait, you talk about me? With your brother? Why would you do that?"

"You're the only friend he has met of mine, so when he got back from New York and we were catching up, he asked about you. I think he's jealous because he wants your skin."

It was weird to think that scary man had asked about me. Before that day, I had always figured I was invisible to Eddie, and I didn't mind it that way. But still, talk between brothers didn't really mean anything. My sister had mentioned the names of friends of mine before that she didn't give a damn about. Maybe none of it mattered and I was thinking needlessly about it.

They put me in red lipstick, covered with a clear lip gloss, red eye-liner, and a few different bright colors of eye-shadow. They even put a light dusting of blush on my cheeks. They didn't even stop there. They went on to doing my hair. Since my hair was so long, and I didn't exactly nurture it the way I should, it was hell to brush out, especially when it was frizzy with wild curls. None of the girls were used to such hair. Of course since Liz was having no part in the fun, since she didn't like makeup at all, she suggested to just let it be, but Ava was studying in beauty school, and figured a challenge like me would help her out a lot.

When Mace got fed up with their squabbling and fussing, he snatched the combs away from Haley and Ava and turned up the TV volume. I laughed at them only to have him tug on my hair, making me fall back against him. He stuck out his tongue and said, "As pretty as you are like this, you'd better wash it off before you go home."

"Yeah." I cringed, thinking of how my dad would react to see me like this. No doubt he'd freak out. "I'll do it later."

"Alright but if you forget, and get clobbered by your entire family, don't come crying to me."

He was right. I had never been very good at remembering things. I wasn't exactly the brains of the group. That was Mace. I was just the guy who was always late for class, who always slept in, and who never let his hair dry properly.

So I pushed up from the couch and trudged into the bathroom. I closed the door behind me and placed my palms face down on the corners of the sink. The mirror before me showed another person's face. It surprised me to see anything other than my typical pasty reflection. What I saw was colorful, and bright, and pretty.

I twisted on the faucet and adjusted it to be lukewarm. Before I could splash my face, I stopped and looked at myself again. For the first time in my life, I thought I was attractive, even if it was feminine beauty. I liked how I looked. But that was a red alarm. I splashed my face, and cringed as I watched the eye makeup begin to streak. It took a few minutes, and a lot of soap, but soon my beauty washed down the drain. And all the excess moisture was dabbed away with a dark blue towel.

And then all that was left was a boring pasty face staring at me. My blue eyes weren't nearly as blue without the frame of red liner and black lashes. The reason it was such a big deal was because I knew I wasn't supposed to like it. I was a man. I had the balls to prove it, and men weren't supposed to like wearing makeup, but I couldn't get over it. Why was it like that? I couldn't answer you if my life depended on it.

And so I went back to being the boring old Ike Cohen. Only there was an added longing weighing me down that I still didn't quite understand.

That was the first time it occurred to me that something was missing in my life.

--

That very night, after the girls left, Mace received a call. Apparently his brother was in "le village" after modeling for a clothing boutique's online catalogue, and the metro was down because of a suicide or something so he needed a ride home.

The Village. An area of Montreal where businesses were run by and/or catered to Gays, lesbians, and transgender people. At that time of night, all the boutiques were closed so I found it hard to believe that the shoot had just ended. It had to have ended awhile ago. But it wasn't such a surprise when Mace mentioned Eddie was going to meet them at a bar.

We waited outside of the bar for a few minutes in a car that Mace rarely used. Mace always said Public transportation was easier on the environment but he kept a car in case of emergency, or if he wanted to go out to his cabin or something. At that moment, he was busy bitching about public displays of affection and how they were rude regardless of sexual orientation. I figured he was just bitter about being dumped recently, so I didn't pay him any mind. My eyes were glued to another scene.

Some people that looked like drag queens were making their way into a backstreet. Some were dressed like men with wigs and makeup on, carrying bags that might have contained costumes. Others were fully dressed in drag or fetish wear. After they disappeared behind the buildings, soon another, reasonably handsome man headed in the same direction, carrying a large bag full of clothing. He had no makeup on. He had a nice body which was visible through his sheen blue shirt. But I could tell by the way he carried himself, he was a performer too.

"Hey Ike." Mace nudged me, looking a bit perturbed. Maybe I had been zoned out? Once he had my attention, he opened the car door and put one foot out onto the street below. "I'm gonna go in and see if I can find my moronic brother. He's probably drunk somewhere. Now I want you to be a good doggy and stay put, understand?"

I nodded absently. "Yeah, whatever. Go ahead."

Mace pushed himself out of the car, and closed the door behind him as he headed up and into the bar. The moment I couldn't see him any longer, I unbuckled my seatbelt and got out as well. Surely, I thought, it would take him awhile to find Eddie, and it would only take me a minute to check something out. I just wanted to see what was going on.

I got out of the car as well, and headed in that direction behind another group of drag queens. They didn't even see me there. As I walked around the corner and down the backstreet, a bright neon sign came into view. It was in French, a few words I didn't recognize. Was it Cabaret? A travesty? They went in some back doors, but I went in through the front.

It was a small place, but the décor was rather exquisite and classy, in a strange bold way. Nobody was really there yet, except a couple early arrivals. There wasn't even a cover charge. I stood near the back, watching as a couple drag queens, nowhere near fully dressed, went on stage and started bickering over whether their number would end stage left or center stage. They motioned out a part of their performance, each trying to prove their point, and eventually one threw his hands up and disappeared backstage. The one who had argued for stage left seemed to have won.

"Excusez-moi." Someone said from behind me. "Nous ne sommes pas encore ouvert..."

I turned around to see a large body-builder type man, his head completely shaved, staring down at me. They weren't open yet? Well, that's what I think he said, since I was not very good at French. Upon seeing my face, he smiled sweetly, deceiving his tough appearance. In response to the statement, I frowned apologetically but made no move to leave. "Ah, monsieur, I didn't mean to just barge in like that. Can you tell me what this place is?"

"Cabaret. The show won't be starting for an hour now." His accent was thick, but it sounded more Parisian than Quebecois. "If you like you may sit down and wait, but we aren't serving drinks yet, so you may grow bored. Is there anything else I am able to help you with?"

"Yes." The answer was simple, and it seemed my mouth was speaking it before the thought even occurred to me. "How do I become one of them?"

TBC... ... ...