Outside, the rain continued to fall, but inside The Kaleidoscope, the sun was just coming up.
"Stop brooding, Prince Charming. You’ll give yourself wrinkles before the curtain even goes up."
"I don't think I have the walk right," Leo admitted, his voice dropping an octave in his head, even if it hadn't changed much in the air.
As the final note faded, Leo didn't feel the usual urge to disappear. For the first time, he wasn't a girl playing a part or a ghost in his own life. He was a man, surrounded by a tribe that had spent decades carving out a kingdom of color in a black-and-white world.
She handed him a small vial of glitter. "For the cheekbones. Even a king needs a little stardust."
Leo sat at the corner of the dressing room vanity, staring at the stranger in the mirror. For twenty-four years, the reflection had been a costume he couldn't take off. Tonight, it was finally him. The binder was tight against his chest—a firm, grounding hug—and the sharp lines of the charcoal suit he’d found at a thrift store made him feel like he was finally standing upright.
Leo looked up to see Mama Jax leaning against the doorframe. Jax was the matriarch of the house, a trans woman who had survived the 80s with nothing but her wit and a pair of six-inch stilettos. She wore a gown of shimmering emerald sequins that looked like dragon scales.