I stood awkwardly on the makeshift stage holding onto a big pink teddy bear as Kazuya as Amelie swayed next to me to the soft music playing. My borrowed draped red lamé dress was Grecian style yet again, my coppery long wavy wig adorned with golden ivy leaves. There was a lot of dewy gold inspired highlighter on my face, and my lips were a bronze color, as was my eyeshadow. Hanako had applied it from a special bottle full of metallic pigment, mixing it with another eyeshadow. My nails were matching as well. This time, I was barefoot and for this I'd had to be shaved. Luckily, I only had hair on my lower legs. I'd never done it before, so Hanako showed me the best way. It reminded me of shaving my face, but different. My legs felt oddly naked even though they were already naked under the dress. Whenever they rubbed together, it was the oddest sensation, like they weren't really my legs. Speaking of my feet, they also had a bronze colored nail polish to "complete the look".

I was too nervous, but this was important. We'd gone through five rounds of bingo. That included five stories of real people affected by HIV/AIDS. One of the stories had been of their mentor, and Miyuki had read it. She'd written it herself, about an important time in her life. She'd said that she felt she couldn't tell anyone that she was transgender, but knew their mentor would understand and might be the only person who understood. Not only had she understood, but she welcomed her with open arms. She said she'd felt Lady Elizabeth, also known affectionately as Lizzie, was more of a mom to her than her real mom. Not only had Lady Elizabeth guided her in gender transition, she'd also been inspirational in getting Miyuki to follow her heart. She'd went in Lady Elizabeth's steps and opened her own business, leaving drag behind in a movement which she called "growing into a woman." 

With a story like that, I had to prepare myself. I'd read over the story I'd been given. It was about someone they'd known who's mother had hemophilia and had been given a blood transfusion with HIV inside of it. It was about their friend's struggle to accept it, her personal fears. Her initial accusation that her own and beloved LGBTQ community was the cause, coming to hate them for it, but realizing that everyone was a victim in this losing battle. That she was blaming people who had no fault in this. How she still didn't accept what happened and had no one to blame, and that fact bothered her. The piece was seven minutes long. Only seven minutes, to tell this kind of story. 

A woman stood up, shouting "Bingo!" and Nikki made a grabbing motion at her bingo sheet, saying he didn't believe her. It had been too soon, they must be cheating. Everyone laughed. He claimed they must be sugar high from the cookies, and Ayane shouted that she was high on something else, making everyone laugh even more. Most everyone was eating cookies. Kazuya had held up a cookie at the beginning and explained what they were for and the donations came rolling in immediately. The one he was holding was bought right there. The donation jar had overflowed, so a fancy jar that once held macarons was employed to hold even more donations. People were donating without buying cookies. 

With much clapping, Kazuya took the big bear from my arms. He leaned over in his red sequined evening gown, his gathered light orange curls cascading over his shoulder as he handed the bear to the winner. She was someone I'd never seen before in the neighborhood. In fact, I'd never seen a lot of these people before. They weren't the usual crowd from French Cup. There were some people I knew, such as Ayane and Hiran, but most were strangers. It was a sea of different shades of red, and most were wearing red ribbon pins. I had one on also. Kazuya had pinned it on me himself, explaining its importance. I'd had no idea about it and was embarrassed, trying to hide that I'd had no clue about these ribbons before then. I think he knew, though. Lingering with me, answering my questions. 

To my left, a finger poked my hip a couple of times and I jumped. Hanako was standing there in a cascading red to white dress, Grecian like mine. He smacked an envelope into my hands, and I took in a deep breath. But, in the next moment, my wrist was being taken by a red satin glove. The material was strange on my skin, but the touch was familiar. I looked up and standing next to me was Kazuya. He smiled to me gently, and some of my nervousness went away. 

"Are you ready?" He whispered to me as we walked to the middle of the stage together. I shook my head honestly. No, I wasn't ready. Seeing everyone here, why they were here. Acknowledging the importance of this work, all of it hitting me at once. Having seen all of them reading these stories. They were just words on paper, but when you put it all together? What it meant to everybody. The enormity of it. 

The envelope trembled in my hand. 

The reality was, I'd just told everyone in Kazuya's kitchen about myself maybe five hours ago. They hadn't had much time to react initially, but everyone had been shocked. Afterward, when we were getting ready, no one had acknowledged it. I didn't get the feeling that they didn't believe me, but it was still odd. Acting like I'd never said it, almost. Like it was nothing. But, it wasn't nothing.

Seeing all these people today. I'd been doing more than observing. I'd been thinking. Hearing those stories. Four of those people had been part of the LGBTQ community. What had happened to them... I wasn't prepared. I'd never heard stories like that before. I'd never had to think about it. What it means to be LGBTQ. Stories of stigma. One person's friend had waited so long to say anything or even admit to himself what was going on that by the time he told his friend and was convinced to go get tested, he'd only lived for a few more months. 

I was still so new to this world. What right did I have to read the story in my hand? 

"Gyeong-Wan?" Kazuya tugged on my wrist. Smiling to me with his pretty, red lips. His searching eyes were heavily and darkly made up, a dramatic effect. He was striking like that. I felt my hands shaking. No doubt he felt it, still holding onto my wrist. 

"Um..." My mouth went close to his ear. All those people waiting patiently, staring up at us. How could my voice ever go loud enough? This story in my hand... "I don't know if I can read it. I can't... I don't know..." 

He parted from me, giving me that same assuring smile. The same one I saw every day, that I looked forward to seeing. He nodded, and without saying a word he took the envelope from my fingers. I watched him carefully open it with respect, and Nikki took the empty envelope, tucking it into the pocket of his enormous red faux mink coat. There wasn't any commotion about my asking Kazuya to read it. No accusing. It had been easy, maybe even understood. I stood awkwardly next to him, but before I knew it he put the papers in my hands again, except backwards. He theatrically arranged my arms like a mime who was having a hard time, and the audience gave a few giggles at us. Somehow, I found myself smiling at his antics, too. He was making it better, by just being himself. Always positive, being cheerful.

He stood to my left finally, and I faced him. My hands held the papers steady, like it was my only mission in life. This important story in my hands. He began to read, and a silence fell on the audience like we were the only people in the universe.

As he read, I began to reflect. Seeing the room. It looked so ordinary, but my perspective was definitely changed. I'd learned so much about being LGBTQ in the past month. Immersed in this world that was mine, too. The amazing and beautiful things in it, but also the consequences. How to be brave and bold, but also caring and kind. In particular, images of the cat skull funeral from after my first drag bingo filled my head. Seeing Kazuya being so loving to a creature he didn't know the real identity of. Giving respect myself by patting the earth with him. Going to Grease with him and dancing with everyone, trying to shout the few words of songs that I'd learned over others, being as ridiculous as possible. Staring at him as he danced to The Nightmare Before Christmas. Walking in the aftermath of Zombie Walk and wondering if he was safe, running to French Cup to see if he and everyone was okay. Listening to him read to preschoolers as I sat there with him in drag, showing that we were just like them, just somebody different that you might not see every day. 

The memory of his hands on mine as he showed me gently how to mix the chocolate as it melted, seeing only his dear hands, but feeling his whole body pressed to mine. His expert movements and my unsure ones, mixing together in a beautiful symphony that was more like home than I'd ever known. Something so right, that I hadn't wanted the chocolate to melt. I'd wanted to stay there suspended in time forever, hoping he'd simply hold me instead. Hold me, so I didn't have to go away.

His eyes were scanning the page I was holding, this third one. Hearing this story from his own mouth. His unique tones, ones I knew so well. The same ones that encouraged me every day. The same ones that had said my name in a million different ways. These tones that belonged to this person...who meant more to me than anyone in the world. 

Because, he'd taught me about this world. Welcomed me into it. He'd shown me the freedom in it, but also the struggle. And now, he was teaching me another lesson. This beautiful person guiding me literally by the wrist. 

He hadn't needed to hold me on that day with the chocolate. As I watched him now, his beautiful eyes searching and reading... I was holding the papers he was reading, but really... He'd been holding me from day one. 

A strangeness filtered into my brain. This odd, clear sensation. Like nothing was the matter, and might not ever be again. A happiness, but also relaxed. Seeing him there, his eyes now shining with emotion at what he was reading. He was more beautiful to me than anything I'd ever seen. This acceptance in my brain. It was contentedness. It was a bliss.

I almost didn't notice the movement behind him beyond the glass window of French Cup, but it caught my distracted eye. My mouth drooped open as the face in the dark stared inside. Seeing all of us dressed in red. Looking at the stage in particular, right at me. 

It took everything I had to remain still and focused, as Seo-Yoon stared directly at my made up face.