March 21, 1969

"Are you ready to go, Pete?" Patrick calls from the front door, his boots on and a leather jacket covered in patches and pins covering his shoulders. Pete has nothing but a t-shirt and a long overcoat along with a pair of slim-cut jeans he stole from Andrew years ago. His brother never asked for them back, he didn't even realize it. Then again, Andrew has always been the type of person to wear a single pair of jeans for weeks at a time. Overall, Pete's outfit is somewhat casual with a hint of fanciness to it. Nothing like what Patrick's wearing - punk, ragged, careless.

"Yeah," Pete replies, taking a breath out of nervousness just before checking to make sure he has his wallet, "Are you?"

Patrick nods, wasting no time in opening the door and heading outside, a cigarette lit in his mouth, "Do you want one?"

"Please," Pete replies, shutting the door and taking one. They share the lighter for a moment, then start heading on, smoke trailing them into the cloudy night sky. They head downtown, walking side-by-side and making occasional comments but for the most part keeping a steady, awkward silence that hangs over them like a raincloud. Eventually, though, Pete finds the will to begin asking more questions and the conversation settles into a small back and forth chatter about each other. In all honesty, Pete doesn't know much about Patrick. He's a bit of an asshole, yeah, but when he needs to be, he can be sensitive. He's gay and he has a close friend named Mikey who knows Andrew. But that isn't much to go on.

By the time they're at the alleyway, Pete's learned that Patrick grew up in Chicago and moved to New York a few years ago and met Frank. They became good friends and eventually, Frank brought Patrick in to meet a few of his friends at the club, which Pete learned is called The Ninth Circle, and he immediately fit in. Since then, Patrick's gone in as a friend of the owner's and doesn't have to pay any more. It's nice. And it's a place that Patrick's learned to appreciate.

Since then, Patrick's been much less lonely than before. He's had friends and people who understand how he feels. It's pulled him out of a sadness that he'd felt a long while ago.

Meanwhile, Pete told Patrick about how he'd graduated high school and, unable to find an interesting profession, went into general work with being a grocer. It's just enough to cover his half of the house his brother and him bought, and it's been like that for several years. Now, Pete's in his twenties and still as much of a nervous wreck as he was just a few years ago.

"I promise, once you meet my friends, you'll feel at least a little better," Patrick says, flashing his ID to the bouncer, "Hey, Joe."

"Hey there," Joe nods, his tattoos dark on his arms, "Haven't I seen him around here before?"

"This is my friend, Pete," Patrick nods, handing over $4, "He came around last Friday."

"Good," Joe nods, "Always nice to get new customers in,"

Patrick nods, nudging Pete in, "Thanks, Joe."

"Anytime."

Patrick and Pete make their way inside, Pete has his hands deep in his pockets and Patrick is walking in front of him, shoulders rolled back and neck popping as he twists it from one side to the other. The lights are neon today, bright pinks and blues and purples. There are three drag queens standing on the stage all in a row looking across at each other with their hands on their hips and false breasts on their chest. The one on the far left has long, black hair, dark skin, and bright red lipstick with a large ass and at least double D size breasts. She's overweight but it fits her well with a sassy look that only a true drag queen could pull off. Beside her is a blond queen, hips swayed to the side with a beautiful black dress covered in small, white, paper machete flowers along with an umbrella that matches just the same. Finally, at the very end is the same drag queen he saw that last Friday. The one with brunette hair. This time, though, she's wearing a black wig and sporting a bright red style. A dress with a pair of handmade angel wings attached to the back. It takes Pete's breath away,

"You see the girl on the very right? The one in the red?" Patrick says. Pete nods, "That's Brenda Love. She's beautiful and out of costume, he's a really nice guy. His name's Brendon."

"All you men, women, and non-genders, listen up!" A man calls throughout the room, "Your votes have been tallied up and the winner of tonight's drag race is..." He waits for a long moment, the audience getting more and more hyped as Pete and Patrick continue on to the row of couches beside the stage where Patrick's friends sit.

"Brenda Love!"

Cheering is heard throughout the audience and Brenda grins big and bright, raising her arms in the air in celebration. Pete smiles slightly, driving his attention away to the people at the couches, grinning and laughing, holding drinks and cheering on their friend but soon after, the cheers die down and the crowd standing in front of the stage head their separate ways. Patrick leans back, groaning in relief as he nudges into Frank's arm, a grin on his lips.

"Hey there, Patrick," Frank grins, "What's up with Pete? Why's he here? Isn't he a het?"

"Nope," Patrick rises to his feet, confronting everyone else who now has their attention on the blond, "Everyone, this is Pete. He's cis, gay, mono... I'm pretty sure at least, right?"

"M-Mono? Cis?" Pete frowns.

"Monogamous means you only date one person at a time. Cisgender means you're not trans or aren't non-gender. And... what are your pronouns? He/him, right?"

Patrick blinks, then nods, "Y-yeah. Cisgender, monogamous, he/him... I'm just a standard, everyday gay dude." He looks around, noticing suddenly that that Gabe guy is here, too. His eyes fixed on Pete, leaning against a taller, darker man with a dark afro.

"You obviously already know me," Patrick says, "I'm Patrick, he/him, gay, monogamous, cisgender." He nods off to his right to a pair of girls cuddling extremely close. One has bright orange hair and brown eyes wearing slim jeans and a light t-shirt. The other girl, who's much taller, is wearing a shortcut skirt and fishnet leggings under a pair of leather boots. A leather vest covers her shoulders - much like Patrick's. The redhaired girl goes first, biting her lip as she looks over at Pete.

"I'm Hayley, Cisgender, Monogamous, Lesbian, and uh... she/her, please," She looks over at the other, darker haired girl and after a bit of mumbling and giggling, the one with the skirt replies, "I'm Lindsey. Half non-gender, half cisgender, monogamous, she/her or they/them, lesbian."

"What does that mean?" Pete asks before he can think twice, "I-I mean. Half cisgender and half non-gender. What even is non-gender? I-I'm sorry, I've just never heard about any of this and it's really new... I don't know much."

Lindsey smiles at him but doesn't criticize him, only replies, "Non-genders are people who don't really fit as a boy or a girl. I'm somewhat a girl and at the same time, I'm somewhat neither if that makes sense. Non-gender people can also be androgynous, a mix of the two... pretty much anyone who isn't 100% male or 100% female, y'know?"

Pete processes that for a moment, "Okay. Makes sense."

Patrick nods to the next person, Pete can't really tell exactly... what they are but he guesses they're a non-gender by the way they have their hair long and wavy but also hold a bit of masculinity to their jawline. They have bright red hair and wear a sleeveless, black top and ebony leather jeans. They part their lips and looking right at Pete with dark eyes, says, "I'm G. They/them, polyamorous, pansexual, androgynous, and..." Looking at Patrick they say, "What else? Is that it?"

"Yeah. Gabe?"

The dark haired boy is up next with his twinky frame and his large grin, "I'm Gabe. He/him, aromantic, pansexual, polyamorous, cisgender. This is my boyfriend, Travie."

"He/him, aro, pan, poly, cis," Travie finishes just before kissing his boyfriend soft on the lips, "Brendon's here."

Everyone's eyes turn to the drag queen, now out of costume. His hair is styled neat and tidy and brunette, a fedora resting on the top of his long head and dark brown eyes gazing across the crowd of queers, "Hey guys!" He says it in an exaggerated tone but Pete didn't expect anything different, "What's up?"

"Nothing much, Bren, just introducing everyone to Pete here," Patrick replies, "It's his first time in here or... any gay bar for that fact. We're going around. Name, pronouns, sexuality, gender, and whether or not you're poly."

"Ah! I love introductions," Brendon plops down right next to a couple twinks sit, one grinding slightly on the other's lap, "I'm Brendon, or Brenda, or Bren. I'm polyamorous, and bi, and cisgender, and I prefer he/him pronouns! Also, I'm a drag queen. I just won $100!"

Everyone cheers, the top twink patting Brendon on the back. Eventually, though, it dies down again and Patrick's attention turns to the guy right of Travie. He's tall and has lanky legs and dark brunette hair. His face is narrow and lines under bags show deep under his eyes, "I'm Dallon or Dal. He/him, they/them, she/her. Genderfluid, asexual, somewhat romantic, polyamorous."

"What does genderfluid mean? Or somewhat romantic? And pansexual?" Pete whispers to Patrick.

"Genderfluid is someone who sometimes feels like a guy, sometimes feels like a girl, sometimes feels like both, and sometimes feels like neither. And he just finds it generally hard to fall in love. That's why he says somewhat romantic. And pansexual is an attraction to everyone regardless of gender. That includes non-genders."

Pete nods, leaning back again as the next couple goes, passing onto the twinks. The one sitting on the other's lap has short brown hair and is wearing a good layer of makeup. His entire right cheek holds a flock of crows or ravens or sparrows flying into the orange-red blend across his eyes. He's wearing a dark leather vest over a red shirt and he's wearing jeans that cling to the slim frame of his legs. The boy behind him, sitting on the couch, has much longer, lighter brown hair and these hazel eyes that Pete's eyes could get lost in for hours on end. The one with the shorter hair goes first.

"I'm Ry, monogamous, demisexual, gay, half-cisgender, half non-gender... he/him, they/them..." He looks back at the other boy who only bites down on his neck and replies, "I'm Will. Mono, Cis, gay, he/him."

Ryan looks to his right, past Brendon and onto the last two boys on the couch, to Patrick's left. One has bright red hair and is wearing a baseball cap on backward while the other sports short, sable hair and has a pair of empty eyes above his feminine cheeks. When he parts his lips, though, his voice comes out high pitched and Patrick realizes he isn't a cis guy.

"I'm Tyler. He/him, poly, transboy, pansexual. And I'm in a poly relationship with Brendon and Josh," He nods on to Josh who looks bored and tired.

"I'm Josh, he/him, poly, gay, cis," He nudges in closer to Tyler, shutting his eyes, "And I fucking love to sleep."

"Weirdo," Tyler mumbles. Josh grins.

Pete looks to his right at Patrick expectantly but before he can say anything, a voice echoes behind him and he looks back to see Frank there giving off the final introduction, "I'm Frank. They/them, monogamous, agender, pansexual."

Patrick nods, leaning back and confronting everyone, "Thanks, guys. Welcome him in well. He's a nice dude even if he doesn't know much."

Some people nod, some go back to their conversation, but before he knows it, Patrick's left him, going off with Travie and Gabe this time and Pete's left alone, wondering if he could get hooked up like that. He looks around awkwardly, unsure of what to do. Brendon, Tyler, and Josh are all talking amongst each other, Tyler complaining about how much his chest has hurt from binding lately while Josh and Brendon tell him he needs to stop for a little bit and just wear baggy clothing or something until they can afford the surgery. Beside them, Ryan is whispering to Will about something, eying Pete in the process and making the dark-haired boy squirm.

Then on, there's Dallon who's mumbling something to G about skirts he wants to get and G is laughing back in their soft, groggy voice about how they just ste9al them from their mom. Dallon grins and so does Frank who's eavesdropping in on the conversation. When he looks to the very right, he sees Lindsey and Hayley have risen to their feet, Hayley heading toward Pete with soft eyes and parting her cherry lips.

"Do you wanna go out for a smoke?"

Pete lets that sink in, it's obviously for much more than just a smoke but he agrees anyway, rising to his feet and following Lindsey and Hayley out the front, passing by Joe. Hayley tells him they'll be right back and Pete just trails behind, hands in the deep pockets of his overcoat. Lindsey pulls out a pack of cigarettes and hands one to each of them before lighting a match and igniting the ends of all three before the wick burns out. Hayley leans against the alley wall, shutting her eyes while Lindsey stands beside her and Pete takes a place, leaning on the wall on Hayley's other side.

"So," Hayley clears her throat, "How did Patrick find out you were queer, huh?"

"Oh, uh," Pete looks away, a little flushed at the question, "I dunno. I... I followed him here last Friday and uh... I kinda yelled it at him when we got into a fight."

"That was you? I was wondering what that fight was about," Lindsey mumbles, "You're brave, standing up to Patrick like that. I mean, he's a great friend and all but sometimes he can be an asshole. Frank, too."

"Yeah," Pete looks away, taking another drag, "I dunno, I just... I didn't think he of all people would be, y'know? I've never actually met another gay er... queer person in my life. Everyone I know, besides my brother, are a bunch of homophobes or transphobes."

"I get that," Hayley replies, "You know Bren, the drag queen, his last wife beat him when he came out as bi and he's never really been the same. It's horrible what people do to the LGBT community these days... horrible."

"Will's dad has always said that if Will came out as a queer, he'd be sent off to Creedmoor. The psychiatric center in Queens? It's horrible," Lindsey whispers, "I just feel so bad for him. I... I couldn't imagine how... how..."

They trail off, looking down at her feet, Hayley immediately takes her hand as they take another drag, "It's fucked. The whole system is fucked."

Pete nods, he agrees with that, "I wish things could be better."

"Me too," Lindsey says, their fingers shaking. Pete swallows, then takes a deep drag and exhales, watching the smoke disappear up into the air, above the city lights and up where nobody will ever find it again.

Up into the clouds.