22 | tough love
Eddie had already stomped out her cigarette butt by the time she looked over at Moxie. "If you're done, we should probably head back to... whatever the fuck this is."
If they could have gotten away with it, Moxie guessed that Eddie would have been fine staying out there. But at least two people were inside waiting for them, so it wasn't a real option.
Moxie held the door open for her. "After you."
"Thank you."
Cruella looked enamored by the comedy show happening right in front of her. Namely, Axel had no idea that Olive Dixon, the drag queen who helped Moxie into her jacket, was trying to flirt with him.
"Are you sure you've never been here before? Feels like I've known you my whole life."
Axel, resident straight man, glanced around thoughtfully. "This is only the second time I've been to Illinois, actually. And the first time I've been to Treasure Trail, but I like it here. The vibes are good."
Which meant his track record for making it out of the state of Illinois without a ticket was abysmal.
Olive laughed. "We've got a couple of lesbians who work here who know all about good vibes."
Moxie massaged her temples. "Maybe it was a mistake leaving the cishet with only one bodyguard."
"Can't bring a man who looks like a lesbian anywhere," Eddie said. The fact that she could stomach looking at him in the first place was progress.
Maybe if Moxie wasn't a lesbian, she would have been more embarrassed about the stomach full of butterflies that came alive when Cruella glanced up at her, the brightest smile on both of their faces.
"How's the lung cancer doing?"
Eddie took the lead. Moxie was too busy being whipped. "Wonderful. Thank you."
"Leave it to lung cancer to put a smile on everyone's face." Axel grimaced. "I don't mean that in a you should smile way, fuck me—"
Olive Dixon need only reach out her hand for an opportunity right in front of her. "If we're asking for volunteers—"
"Axel," Moxie crossed her arms, "as a straight man, it's very nice of you to come here and support us. Major ally points.
The smile immediately dropped from Olive Dixon's face.
"Pretty cool of you," Eddie added.
"Well then." Olive pulled her hands back to her lap before standing. "Enjoy the show."
Ever the oblivious one, Axel grinned. "Thanks." Now that he was no longer entertaining a friendly face, he turned back to the mirror. "Can someone please help me with eyeliner? Maverick did it last time I wore it but I think he's just singing for fun right now—"
To say that Moxie was surprised by his inability to slap eyeliner on himself would be false, but she was still disappointed.
"Straight men have really lost the art of a winged liner," she said.
Cruella picked up the liquid eyeliner from the vanity, along with a disposable applicator and metal palette. She fell into a deep focus examining the man in front of her, squinting her eyes and holding his chin so she could maneuver his face and see every angle.
"Okay. But if you blink it'll hurt and go into your eye and probably smudge and then you'll look like a raccoon. So, hold still, alright?"
Axel nodded. "Mav drew on my eyeball because he's got terrible writing skills and it was fully his fault so if you don't do that, we'll be fine."
"I don't know if I believe that. Not about his handwriting but about you not being at fault."
"I'll sit still, I promise," Axel replied.
To everyone's surprise, he kept that promise. Cruella worked her magic in a way only she could. Despite the fake goat horns clipped to his hair and the fur glued to parts of his body, the eyeliner brought out an endearing glint in his eyes. Like a puppy.
"That's... You..." Moxie was at a loss for words. She kind of hated him for it. "Babe, you're a miracle worker."
"Thank you," both Cruella and Axel said.
Moxie glared. "What—what did you say to me?"
"What did you say to me?" Axel stumbled over his tongue.
"I wasn't talking to you—"
"You were looking in my direction—"
Eddie gave him a pointed look. "Wild guess that she was looking at her—Cruella, my guy."
"Oh."
Moxie rolled her eyes. "Maybe you're the brainless one."
"That feels like a reference to something I don't understand. So."
"What a shocker. Who could have seen that coming?" Certainly none of the queer people in the room, of course.
Gaylinda walked into the room. Perfect timing to give Axel the break he needed. Or so they thought.
"Sorry to bother, but would the lesbians mind grabbing the other two? The doors are about to open soon but they're still up front singing."
Moxie sighed. Only two of them were equipped to take down the hurricane that was Stevie and Maverick singing Wicked songs, but the other woman was trying to keep her breathing steady. Which meant Moxie had to let the straight man tag along with her. If push came to shove, she would use him as a shield. Or a weapon, depending on how things went.
"Yeah, sure." Moxie rose from her seat. "Get up, Doctor."
"Why me?"
"You heard her. We gotta stop the duo who won't shut up."
"Why m—Oh. Sure."
The two of them weaved through vanities, chairs, and drag queens on their way to the main showroom. Considering how many people roamed those hardwood floors, it was surprisingly quiet, which only made the music overflowing from the stage that much more unavoidable. Once they rounded the corner and the stage flew into view, the dynamic duo was spotlighted purely from their own presence, talented as they were.
Maverick held his arms out. "So if you care to fi—"
"Sorry for interrupting," Moxie said, "but we've been tasked with getting you to shut up."
"—nd me, look to the Western sky—"
Look, Moxie didn't categorize herself as someone who was particularly great at navigating places with which she wasn't already somewhat familiar, but that shortcoming was nothing compared to the directionally challenged nature of most of, if not all, bisexuals, and Maverick was no exception. Not that it mattered if he was actually pointing west because he did so with his middle finger, indicating how he felt about her poorly timed interruption.
Axel leaned into her and whispered, "Is this anywhere near the end of the song?"
"Not close enough." She sighed. "Maverick, if you don't get down here right now, I'm sending Axel up."
He didn't appreciate being volunteered for a job he didn't want in the first place, but Moxie cared not what the man wanted.
"Why can't you go get him?" he whined
"Do you want to try to get that other little weasel?"
"Technically, they asked the lesbians and that means not me, I'm just a straight man—"
"Clearly you've never spent any time in Castro or this wouldn't have to be explained to you yet again."
For all of their combined brain power and bafflement over the sight they were witnessing, neither of them could have been prepared for the unexpected turn that was Stevie launching herself off the stage in a fit of passion right as Maverick sang fly. It didn't help that Axel had no idea what was coming since he didn't know a thing about Wicked, yet he caught her without hesitation. Then again, Moxie would never in a million years have pictured Stevie voluntarily jumping off a stage. It wasn't a tall stage by any means, but Stevie also wasn't a tall person by any means either.
"Stevie, what is wrong with you—"
"I'm defying gravity—" she replied.
The worse part about whatever the fuck just happened was that Axel, the man who caught her like she was Baby and he was Johnny, spun her around like this was choreographed effort.
"And if I'm flying solo—" Maverick sang.
"Stevie," Moxie pointed at the ground, "get down from there—"
The designated Elphaba held out her arms. (How was Axel still holding her up?) "At least I'm flying free!"
Maverick looked furious. "Stevie—You had your turn—"
"To those who ground me—" The pointed glare she aimed at both Moxie and Maverick stung. "—take a message back from me—"
Finally, Axel lowered her from her high perch, letting her black heels touch down. Stevie did not look happy, but that could have been her getting into character.
"We'll be sure to tell them you're succumbing to gravity," Moxie commented.
Axel rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm so sorry."
Since their performance had been interrupted in such a heinous fashion, Maverick decided that efforts to keep the song going were futile and he joined them off-stage, though he also made it clear that he was not happy about it either.
"You are not."
"That was lowkey biphobic of you to put me down at that part," Stevie claimed.
Axel looked gobsmacked. "You really think I know that song well enough to know that?"
"Intention does not matter when being biphobic. Impact does."
He appropriately did not react. It served most well to not poke the lion.
"What about singing my line?" Maverick asked, directing his frustration at his soulmate.
"That's called seizing the opportunity right in front of me. Maybe next time you'll think faster."
His mouth gaped open. "You stage dove—"
"Respectfully," Moxie started, "why would you want to stage dive at Axel anyway?"
The man in question was offended. "I literally caught her and you're still not on my side?"
"Are you surprised by that?"
Moxie would never hand it to a man. Stevie, on the other hand, gave him a bit more grace since he had caught her. "Honestly, Axel, that was impressive. You should replace Maverick next time."
Maverick was over it. Big time. Regretted inviting any of them and agreeing to the hosting gig in the first place. "That's the worst thing you've ever said to me, Stev."
"You've never caught me mid-stage dive."
"I'm literally just a boy."
Stevie lifted her chin. "And I'm kind of the man."
Moxie wanted to laugh because she loved Stevie despite her inability to take it easy, but she couldn't help but replay the image of Axel catching her. His hand placements, the ease with which he twirled her around in the air. It was too good for someone like Axel. In fact, it looked a lot like something someone knows very well used to do when he was younger.
"Axel... did you ever take dance lessons as a kid?"
The way he stared at her was slightly unnerving. "What makes you say that?"
"Well, fun fact, but Mick did ballet for about fifteen years. He used to practice lifts with me at home." She earned enough bruises growing up to consider herself an honorary ballet dancer.
"That's... interesting."
"Can we stop saying that, please?" Maverick begged.
"Now that I think about it..." Moxie rubbed her chin. "He said he ran into this boy one year at Nationals. Said he didn't look like he'd washed his hair in months but Mick thought he was really cute."
Mick had said that, but it didn't matter if it was the truth or not. All that mattered was it hit Axel right it mattered most, and he jumped straight into defense mode. "I washed my hair it was a lot of fucking gel my mom put in—"
Hook, line, and sinker.
"So that was you—Axel, how are you the most queer-coded cishet man I've ever met?"
Even Stevie put aside her Ozian aspirations in the interest of deciphering the mystery that was Axel Canterbury. "Are you sure you took ballet? 'Cause you fall almost as much as Maverick does."
"Excuse you, I danced from six to sixteen, thank you very much."
Maverick was not amused. "Little too defensive when I'm standing right here."
"I could brise vole, you dick."
"Am I supposed to know what that means?"
Quite frankly, it took Moxie to figure out what he tried to say in the first place.
"How the dining tables turn," Axel countered.
"It's pronounced brisé volé," Moxie corrected.
"That's what I said," Axel said, exasperated. "Come on."
Stevie eyed him. "I thought you were talking about the dog."
"So mean. I won a national championship." As if that mattered when he was mangling the French language.
(Moxie recognized she had a mostly Canadian French accent, but it sounded objectively better than a Bostonian French accent and she stood by that.)
"So did Mick, but at least he can pronounce it correctly."
He glanced around at the group. "You realize you all have accents, right?"
"Some are objectively worse than others," Stevie countered. Moxie didn't have it in her to point out that when Stevie's pidgin came out while she was shit-faced, Moxie only understood half of what she was saying. (Mostly because Moxie was white and had no right.) (Axel on the other hand was fair game.)
"Axel," Moxie said, "where did you pahk the rental cah?"
He gathered his willpower before proceeding with caution. The rhotic R was beating his ass. "Harvard Boulevard."
Still. Slight improvement. "Baby steps."
Stevie groaned and kicked her feet out. "I guess we can go back since our performance has been ruined. I hope you're happy."
"I hope you're happy now," Mavierck half said, half sang.
"Oh, shut up," Moxie said.
The bouncer, having heard they were successful in luring them off the stage, leaned around the corner with a smile on his face. "Thank you for your service. That was the sixth rendition."
Maverick and Stevie both glared and in unison declared, "Snitch."
They headed back in the direction of the rest of their group with equal amounts of pride and defeat. Moxie was exhausted from the last five minutes alone, and the show hadn't even started yet. She was ready to drop dead on a chair while they waited.
But returning to the dressing area meant coming face-to-face with the image she left behind, namely that Eddie, despite their conversation, was still trying her best to bounce back. One look at that woman and Moxie didn't think twice when it came to her duty as a friend. (To Eddie.) (Not to Axel.)
Before Eddie spotted him, Moxie grabbed Axel by the ear and yanked him out of sight. Once shielded by a pink puffy drape, she poked him in the chest. Hard. He winced and rubbed his chest.
"Listen, I'm only going to say this once, but do not fuck this up."
The only thing Axel Canterbury consistently succeeded at was not understanding what was going on at all times, and that was why it was wishful thinking on Moxie's part when she said she would not explain herself more than once.
"Do you want me to Google Wicked so I know what we're doing? How long is it, could I watch it online?"
Moxie earned the slap she gave him by way of being forced to listen to him. "Stop being a damn boy for one second and listen to me when I say that if you fuck this up, I will hurt you. Got it?"
He still had no idea what she was talking about. "Fuck up...?"
"I'm not fuckin' spelling it out for you, Axel." She leaned around the corner, gently pulling the curtain with her. Stole one concerned glance at their favorite boxer before concealing them again. "I can slap a lot hard than that."
That was the only explanation he needed. Axel nodded. "Yes, ma'am."
"Don't call me fuckin' ma'am. You're two years older than me."
"Then why are you acting like my mom?"
"Well, since she's not here right now," Moxie said, "someone else has to."
He stared at her. "That would be because she died twelve years ago, Mox."
Moxie would have called out his use of a nickname if she didn't feel bad about bringing up his dead mom. To be fair, she hadn't known his mom died. Axel had daddy issues written all over him, but she hadn't considered his mother.
"... Well then. I guess that proves my point." Her sympathy only extended so far when it came to Axel Canterbury.
"I'll do my best to not fuck it up, Mom."
Moment of compassion? Well over.
She rolled her eyes. "Men."
No one was the wiser when Moxie and Axel caught up with the rest of the group. Cruella smiled up at her, admiring what Moxie imagined was her work. Eddie didn't read as someone who cared enough to put much effort into a slick ponytail or polished makeup look.
"That was quick," Cruella said.
"It was not for the faint of heart," Axel replied.
Stevie, still upset, clarified, "They interrupted us as the worst part."
"I can't believe this," Maverick added.
Moxie refused to let that slide. "The bouncer said it was your sixth time singing Defying Gravity."
"And?" Maverick countered.
"At least learn to mix it up. Could've thrown an I'm Not That Girl or The Wizard And I in there."
"We had to swap that Elphaba and Glinda parts, though," Stevie supplied. As if that explained it.
"That math still isn't mathing."
"I didn't get to finish my turn—" That was Maverick. Clearly.
"But you did," Axel said. "Twice."
Maverick rolled his eyes. "So not the point."
"Maybe you should save some of that energy for when the actual audience arrives," Moxie suggested. "Just a thought."
"Not if I didn't get to finish."
Eddie nodded. "Finishing is important."
"Fake it 'til you make it, Mav," Moxie said.
"Sorry to hear the hand's not getting the job done," Axel said, only adding fuel to the fire that was a scorned Maverick.
"Why did we invite any of you—"
"Because you love us," Eddie said.
"That can't be it."
"You know we can't sing Defying Gravity," Moxie said. And it was the truth. She realistically stood by her vocal abilities. This number was simply out of her range. "So we won't outshine you."
"Respectfully, I can sing it," Cruella corrected.
Moxie's eyes widened. She didn't know what was worse—that she didn't clarify she meant her and Axel or that she had even lumped herself with Axel in the first place, even if only mentally.
"Of course, yes. That's why Mav has to share Glinda with you."
Maverick smiled at the Queen. "At least she knows it's an honor."
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