Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Dyke Before Christmas
Written by Katya Zamolodchikova
Story by Trixie Mattel

We open on the I Like To Watch set but with a close up shot through an even more gauzy filter, like Kirk about to fuck an alien lady on Star Trek kinda blurriness.

TRIXIE is sitting on the couch with a photo album on her lap while KATYA is hanging decapitated Barbie heads and zombie angel ornaments on a black Christmas tree behind the couch. She looks over TRIXIE’S shoulder at the album.

KATYA
Whatcha looking at there?

TRIXIE
Just some (holds up album to reveal the cover at the same time as TRIXIE sings what it says) Precious Memories, How They Linger.

KATYA
Linger as in how those crabs you got from that bi dude in college lingered?

TRIXIE
Even they couldn’t resist my magnetic personality.

KATYA awkwardly climbs over the couch and sits down so hard that it bounces TRIXIE

KATYA
(points at the album)
Oh I remember this! You look so sexy here
(shot of TRIXIE’s season 7 entrance look.) Always makes me crave dinner rolls and curdled milk with that hair and that wet upper lip.

TRIXIE
(Points at the album.)
This is one of my favorites of you
(show a picture of KATYA in the pompom hat and cheerleading shirt and skinny man legs.)
Just so unclockably feminine.

KATYA
Selling that TS fantasy. Literally. Aw, I love this one of you. (Shows the baby picture of MS FIRKUS with TRIXIE makeup.) Such a cute little crossdresser. And looking so much like your dad Lady Bunny.

TRIXIE
(Points at the album.) And you here (shows a picture of Pennywise) look so much like your mom Bianca del Rio. (Slams album shut and throws it over her shoulder without looking.) Anyways, fuck the past. (Looks back at the tree.) You got us all ready for our Christmas together, Mama?

KATYA
Yup. Got your gift all wrapped up under the tree and everything. (Shot of a bound and gagged Detox swearing at them.) It’s an antique, I think you’ll like it.

TRIXIE
(Cuddles up into KATYA.) Can I tell you my favorite Christmas story? It’s got two very, very hot ladies in it who just so happen to look like us and sound like us and are actually us.

KATYA
I would love to hear it, my little Christmas cracker.

TRIXIE
It’s about a Prince in a tower who gets saved by a very sexy girl in a slutty outfit.

Fade out and fade back in with an obvious bit of stock footage of a skyscraper, panning up and then switching to the inside of an all red office with a blonde at the desk screaming into a landline phone. Turning around to face the camera, KATYA is revealed.

“Listen, you piece of shit, if you don’t compensate my client as you promised I’m gonna go to your mother’s house and eat her pussy so good that she’ll become a lesbian and leave your dad. And don’t you fucking dare question how good I am at oral, because your whore of a mother wouldn’t be the first woman who I made gay.”

With that Katya ended the call, once again pleased with herself that she’d insisted on an old school landline phone so she could slam it down, giving her infinitely more satisfaction than just stabbing her finger at a red button. She noticed that Line 8, the forbidden line, was blinking and hit the intercom button to talk to her assistant Violet,  someone she’d hired because she was just as much of bitch as Katya was. It was always reassuring and very hilarious knowing Violet was out there glowering at the pathetic losers in the waiting room who’d just arrived in LA from Utah or Albuquerque or some other state no one cared about and thought they could just come to the office of the most powerful agent in Hollywood and she would sign them because they played Marie in their high school’s production of Sound of Music.

“V, what’s up? Who got my private line number?”

“That man who says he’s your mom. Which, if you’re into that, seriously K, gross. He sounds like a New York City garbage man. Actually no, that is totally something you’re into, if I recall that raging case of chlamydia you got from that-”

“OKAY THANK YOU!” She turned off the intercom. “If that little whore wasn’t so good at scaring people off I swear to god I would-”

“Still here.”

“Aw fuck.”

“Remind me to show you AGAIN how to press a button.”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck off.”

This time she made sure they’d been disconnected before switching over to line 8.

“What is it, Ma?”

“Well if it isn’t the great and powerful Oz.” Her mother Bianca’s voice instantly sent Katya spiraling back to being a kid, as annoying now as it was back then. “Busy pulling all those strings like the back room dick sucker you are. I know half of those deals you make are at the bath house.”

“What do you want, Ma? And be quick, I got Margot Robbie waiting on line 2.”

“Don’t trip over those names you’re dropping there.”

“Tick, tick, tick, Ma. Times a’ wastin.”

“Well, my ungrateful daughter, this usually would be my annual photocall where I ask if you’re coming home for Christmas and you say no because you’re an ungrateful child who never learned to respect her mother.”

“Ma, I literally bought you the biggest house in town.”

“In which I used to live by myself as a sad old lady who’s kid never visits, not even on my favorite holiday.”

Katya blew right over that attempt to make her feel guilty, because she certainly didn’t feel any kind of bad about avoiding that shitty small town she grew up in.

“What do you mean used to?”

“My fiancee lives here now.”

Katya dropped the tension ball she was strangling the life out of in her right palm.

“Fiancee?!”

“That’s right kiddo, Ma’s getting hitched again.”

“To who!?”

“Adore.”

“That’s his name? Adore?”

“HER name.”

“Oh god, is this some sort of late in life lesbian thing? Or did you think because you and your fellow ancient female friend decided to legalize your friendship you’re gonna get money out of me to pay for some lesbian handfasting ceremony? Because that is so not happen.”

“Adore is not ancient. She’s 24.”

“JESUS CHRIST, MA! 24?! THAT’S A CHILD!”

“First of all, we live in the south, so technically at 24 she’s old for a bride. And secondly, age ain’t nothing but a number. That’s what that lovely girl singer who Adore likes to listen to says.”

“Are you talking about Aalyiah? You’re listening to Aalyiah?!”

Somehow this was the most shocking, her mother voluntarily listening to 90s hip hop, the same woman who only listened to Ethel Merman’s Pajama Game soundtrack or Judy Live at Carnegie Hall.

“Oh yeah, Adore is making me real hip and trendy. We just started watching this show called Will and Grace. It’s so liberal and advanced. Except for the fact that none of the gay men have sex.”

And like always, Katya didn’t know if her very sarcastic mother was lying or not.

“Ma, you can not marry a 24 year old.”

“I ain’t calling to ask permission. I’m calling to tell you that it’s happening and to see if you actually wanna come home for the wedding on Christmas Day. Or is the only thing that’ll bring you back here my funeral?”

“God willing it happens soon.” She snarked back, having also fully embraced the need to cloak your feelings in sarcasm and shady comments.

“You know, there’s a special place in hell for people who don’t visit their mothers.”

“Yes, it’s called a lesbian bar in any major city. It’s a wonderful, toasty warm Hell where no one wants to go back to their shitty home towns and their annoying mothers because they’re too busy fixing water heaters and refinishing their deck and getting at their girlfriend’s between me down there.”

“Wow, the culture in the big city is so refined, I’m so sorry I don’t get to experience it.” There was no doubt about the sarcasm that time. “Though I can definitely relate to that last one.”

“JESUS CHRIST, MA! GROSS!”

“Your useless shit bag of a father never once made me orgasm. I deserve this.”

“MA!”

“Such a prude all of a sudden. You should be proud of your mother for coming out.”

“Yeah, I’ll send over the starter pack of kd lang CDs and sturdy work boots.”

“I’m not that kind of lesbian. I’m a femme.”

“With all that fucking makeup you wear maybe you’re just a sexually confused drag queen.”

“Listen, you coming home or what?”

“Ma, you know I can’t come out there because of how busy I am. I don’t know how many more times I have to explain that to you.”

“Oh yeah, I’ve heard every excuse. I guess your Ma marrying her soulmate isn’t enough of a reason then, especially not when you would rather pretend I didn't even exist.”

The touch of vulnerability made Katya instantly uncomfortable. Earnestness, sincerity, emotional honesty, they repelled her in the same way children and calamari and men named Chad and that Netflix studio exec who grabbed her client’s ass at the Marmont last week did.

“Your soulmate? Really? What do you have in common? The fact that she’s barely out of diapers and you’re about to get into them again yourself?”

“Adore is an old soul.”

“I can’t believe you just said that in all seriousness.”

“She’s very smart and talented.”

“I bet she is. Seducing you out of my money and the big house I bought you with her small town hustler skills.”

“She is not like that. She’s a gifted performer.”

“Oh I see what this is. She found out that you have a very influential agent for a daughter and suddenly she’s all over you.”

“Come or don’t come but don’t you talk like that about the love of my life.”

It went from sarcasm with a touch of sincerity to full on precious love declarations and Katya could feel everything in her squirm and cringe.

“Ma, I have to go.”

“Of course you do. Can’t keep Margaret Robin waiting.”

And because she was the bitch she was, her mother hung up the phone before Katya had the chance. All Katya could do then was let out an ungodly growl of annoyance while picking up her stress ball again to squeeze the life out of it.

“I’m booking your flight home for tomorrow morning.” Violet’s voice came through the intercom.

“Bitch, I told you to not listen to my personal calls.”

“I have no interest in the machinations of your stunted love life and how it plays out over the phone.  But when it’s your mother who is actually a fucking badass bitch who you treat like crap, then yeah, I’m listening. And you’re fucking going back home. There’s no way you’re missing your mom’s wedding.”

“Uh, I’m pretty sure it ain’t up to you.”

“As the only assistant left in LA who would actually work for a cunt like you, you'd think at this point you would know not to argue with me. You need to go see her this year. Or are you too much of a pussy to be able to handle five days in your hometown, you, the same cunt who once went to an Ayahuasca retreat with Gwenthyn when you were trying to sign her a client.”

“Jesus Christ, that was awful. You try sitting in the desert with a bunch of white women all sobbing because their rich parents bought them a Porsche instead of a Bentley for their 16th birthday.”

“Your flight is at 10 am tomorrow morning. I’m rescheduling your meetings for the next week and condensing them down to zoom calls for an hour every morning. And that’s it. You need to spend some time with your mother because this is obviously important to her.”

“You sure that this isn’t just a ploy for you to get Christmas Day off? Because bah-humbug to that, Ms Crackitt.”

“As pleasant as spending the day here with you going through expense reports would be I would like to spend that day with my boyfriend.”

“Fuck Kade. He doesn’t pay you, I do. What are we at now in terms of raises you’ve given yourself? 50 dollars an hour?”

“Worth more than that.” Violet said. “Now go home and pack.”

“Bitch, I am not going anywhere.”

When she found herself in an Uber going from the airport heading towards the shitty town where she grew up she cursed Violet even more.

“Only cunt in the world who can make me do anything. I swear to god, if she wasn’t so good at scaring people I would fire her.” She said to herself as she glowered, the bucolic wonderland they were passing doing nothing to sway her opinion of her home state.

“Ma’am, that kind of language won’t be tolerated in my vehicle.” The fat old white dude wearing a MAGA hat who was driving said.

“Oh so you only wanna be called a cunt when you’re begging for your wife to spit on you, got it.”

In retrospect, saying this to her only ride to town was a misstep she was able to admit to when she had to walk the last four miles to the house she’d bought her mom.

(Yes, she bought her mom a house. She wasn’t completely the ungrateful daughter she might seem to be.)

Considering she’d only seen the house online when she was purchasing it, she wasn’t prepared for what her mother and her infamous tackiness had done to it. There were gaudy painted gnomes and faded pinwheels and broken lawn flamingos and tiki torches, the house with a National Lampoon level of Christmas lights all over it. Everything definitely tracked as her mom and her terrible taste except for the beat up motorcycle in the driveway.

She knocked on the door and waited, expecting her mother and surprised when a beautiful blonde girl answered who looked just as surprised to see her.

“You’re the gold digging child bride Adore, I’m assuming.”

The smile on her pretty face faltered for just a moment, almost instantly replaced with a look of pure sass.

“No I'm not but I do wish I also had that good of an ass.”

“Unfortunately that ass and the grifter attached to it is betrothed to my elderly mother. Which, by the way, who the fuck are you and why are you in my mother’s home?”

“I’m… I’m Trixie.”

“Trixie, huh? Well, nice to meet you. And again, why the fuck are you answering my mother’s door?”

“Because for a long time she was the only person around here who actually visited me, that’s why."

It was her mother’s unmistakable dry tone coming from inside the house, and Trixie stood aside so Katya could come in. Sitting on a plastic covered palm tree print upholstered couch was her Ma, looking so much older that it shocked her, reminding her of the fact that she was about to turn 50 and that indeed Katya had not seen her in a very long time.

“Hey, Ma.”

“Hey, kid. You’re actually here.”

“Blame Violet.”

“That girl might be the only good thing in LA. Smart and a total bitch. Like my daughter if she actually had any kind of real human emotions.”

“Emotions are for poor people, Ma. I’m rich now, I don’t have to feel anything.”

“Okay, Ms Bianca, I’m gonna go.” Trixie said, going over to Bianca after putting on a big, pink faux fur coat. “I’ll see you again soon.”

“Thank you, honey.” Ma said and Katya got to watch astounded as Trixie kissed her cheek.

“Okay what the fuck, Ma? You got another not age appropriate girlfriend going on?”

“Oh please, she wishes.” Trixie immediately said with the cheekiest grin.

“Nah, Miss Trix here is too busy breaking hearts by insisting on being alone.”

“Sometimes solitude is better than suffering through the wrong person.” Trixie said to her.

It was an extremely mature response to come from someone that young, grabbing Katya in how perfectly it summed how she’d been feeling lately in her own relationship.

“Well, thanks for coming to visit.” Katya said to Trixie.

“Oh don’t thank me. I'd still be coming even without being paid.”

“Wait, are you the housekeeper that this one bilked a monthly salary out of me for?” Katya said, jabbing a thumb in her mom’s direction.

“Katherine, let it alone.” Bianca said in that tone she used to use when Katya was 8 and insisting on burning ants with the matches she’d found in her mom’s latest boyfriend’s coat pocket.

“Ma, do not call me that.”

“Ms Bianca, remember the thing about dead names?”

“Oh, shit, yeah. Sorry, kid. Won’t call you that again.”

Her mother being sensitive to her wishes? What the fuck was going on in here on this day?

“Though if you think I'm ever calling you by your asshole of a father’s last name you got another thing coming.”

“And there she is, everyone, my mother.” Katya said.

After Trixie left and it was just the two of them in the house, Katya walked around, looking at how the whole place was like Christmas had thrown up all over it. Behind the dozen or so manger sets and the blinking icicles lights and what was looking like an obsessive amount of nutcrackers everywhere she could see the crazy shit her mother had done in there. The walls were all painted a sickly green the colour of snot, the couches all in different loud patterned fabrics, the carpet apparently having been pulled up and the cement subflooring painted neon orange and covered in those fucking braided rugs Katya’s gramma made a thousand years ago that she remembered walking on every day of her childhood. Something about the sense memory of them under her feet made that feeling come back, of being trapped and miserable in this shit-tee, shit-tee town, of coming home from school every day and flinging herself onto her bed to cry because everyone was calling her a dyke and making fun of her for listening to Sarah Mclachlan and Ani Defranco and the Indigo Girls and every other sad ass lesbian folk artist that she would play on repeat.

This had been why she’d not wanted to come back here. She’d purposely worked so hard on getting as far away, mentally and physically, from this place and how isolated and weak and exposed it had made her feel. Back then there was no one around her who was queer, no one who even dreamt of anything beyond marrying the high school quarterback and having a bunch of snotty nosed, sticky handed children. But not her. No, she always knew that she belonged in the city, in Hollywood, where people could be who they really are.

Of course being in the film industry had taught her that no one in LA was ever acting like who they really were, that everyone had secret lives that they couldn’t reveal. Couldn’t and not wouldn’t, at least according to Katya’s girlfriend. After a year together JR, as she had to be labeled as in Katya’s phone contacts, still refused to publicly acknowledge that they were dating, let alone reveal that she was bisexual. If it weren’t for that smile and that curly hair, Katya didn’t think she’d be able to deal with it.

“So where’s the child bride?” She asked, running her finger along the edge of the fuschia painting fireplace mantle covered in creepy elf figurines and pleased to see that it was clean, that Trixie was actually doing what she was being paid to do.

“Adore’s just out back filling up the kiddie pool for me.”

“Oh god, you’re not sitting in that in front of the neighbours are you? And in December?”

“No, Miss Mouthy. She puts in epsom salts and a lawn chair and I soak my feet while she reads Harry Potter to me. And haven’t you heard about global warming? It’s a sensible 74 out there right now. I love it.”

“Harry Potter? You really are dating a child.”

“I guess the fact that you went for the age thing and not that it’s a book written by a transphobe should be a good thing. Though honestly, all the Harry/Draco fic I wrote in middle school has allowed me to co-op the source material and see it as super, super, super gay, so fuck that TERF bitch who wrote them.”

It was a rather beautiful, tall girl who was speaking, coming into the living room from the kitchen behind Katya. She was wearing a torn up Nirvana t-shirt, fishnets with holes and some beat up Docs, with crimped black and purple hair, her eyes darkly lined and her lips a deep burgundy. Katya had a like recognizes like moment, seeing herself in the same look back when she lived in this horrible town and went from her Lilith Fair era to her goth phase.

“You must be Adore.”

“Yup, that’s me.” She said, going over to sit next to Bianca on the couch, nuzzling up close to her to practically coo at her. “Hey, baby, I got everything set up, I’m just waiting for the cookies to be done.”

So that’s what she'd had been smelling, the heavenly scent of freshly baked cookies that was filling the room.

“You make cookies as well as full service foot soaks then? That what you doing to trick my Ma outta the money I send her?"

“KATYA!” Ma snapped at her.

“It’s all good, baby. I get why she’s sus.” Adore said, taking Bianca’s hand and kissing the back of it. “It shows that she does actually care about you despite her never visiting or calling.”

“Oh, so you’re gonna sit in the house I pay for and judge me?”

“Not judging. Just pointing out facts.”

Adore’s gaze was pure steel, not so much challenging as leaving no room for argument.

“If you think you’re justifying your presence in my mother’s life with children’s novels and cookies…”

“Actually it was Trixie who made the cookies.” Bianca said. “Butterscotch oatmeal. They’re her speciality.”

“Well, good for her.” Katya snarked. 

For the first time since she quit smoking a year ago she felt an intense need for a cigarette and knew she had to get out of there.

“I’ll be back later.” She said, grabbing her Birkin bag and going to the door with Adore following her.

“Wow, you’re really good at leaving.” Adore whispered.

“I’m also good at removing parasitic gold diggers as you’re gonna find out.” Katya hissed back. “I know your kind, missy. You sit in my waiting room every damn day thinking that the fact that you have a thousand followers on your shitty MUA TikTok account means that you’re the next big thing.”

“The only thing I think I am is someone who sees and loves your mom for who she really is, the same way she does that for me. We’ve saved each other from all those people who laugh at us and who have dipped out of our lives. Now we both have someone we can depend on to be there when we need them. Someone we both know loves us, truly.”

“Yeah, that cheesy bullshit doesn’t work on me.”

“Maybe it’s not cheesy. Maybe cheesy is just something you label love as because you’re scared of it.”

And fuck if this little cretin didn’t just call Katya out in the exact way her therapist did right before Katya had fired her.

Walking through the small town she’d grown up in did nothing to help calm Katya’s nerves. Every corner, every building was like a guided tour of all the shitty things that had happened to her there. The bus stop where during her sophomore year a bunch of girls decided to start shit with her and she’d had to punch one of them to get away, ending up being blamed for it and expelled from school for the rest of the year. The house of the girl she’d been in love with, where she’d snuck to her window to give her a love letter she’d written only to have her read it out loud to the entire cafeteria the next day. The house of that drunken hag Bunny, her ma’s best friend who used to chain smoke while doing shots of drambuie at their kitchen table every night, pointing out how skinny Katya was back then by calling her a praying mantis and telling her to eat a fucking sandwich.

There was an unfamiliar building though, one that stuck out because of how recently it had obviously been built. It looked like an old Western movie saloon with swinging doors and an upstairs porch that had mannequins dressed like old timey whores. It was like the MGM backlot had been created by a Jamie Gumm, or a James Gumm, or maybe a John Grant.

Katya went right past it, seeing the old gas station at the end of the street and knowing it contained the sweet, sweet nicotine she desperately needed. Opening the door made the bell above it tinkle and she watched as the cute blonde from the house popped her head up from behind the till.

“Oh, hey. Tracy, right?”

“Uh, no, it’s Trixie.”

“Sorry, yeah. Trixie.” Katya went over to the counter and was able to see that behind it there was a guitar, a fuzzy pink notebook and a makeup bag full to overflowing. “Can I get a pack of-”

But Trixie was already pulling out the Virginia Slims Menthol 100s, Katya’s very specific brand, and putting them on the counter.

“Okay, how the hell did you know that? You psychic or something?”

“Actually, yes I am.”

“Really?” Katya leaned forward with her elbows on the counter to peer closely at her. “What am I thinking right now?”

“That this town fucking sucks and you wish you never came back.”

“Wow, Trixie, you really are psychic.”

“Thanks.”

The smile she got with this was pure cheek and made Trixie’s already pretty face even prettier.

“So you’re not a fan of this shit hole either, huh?” Katya asked.

“This place fucking blows. I hate it here.”

“Why you still here then?”

“Abject poverty.” Trixie said with no demurring.

“Ah yes, I remember it well.”

And she did, no matter how much money she had. How it felt to always be living paycheck to paycheck, her and Ma eating ramen for dinner every night as their only real meal. The landlord constantly banging on the door for rent money they didn’t have. Wearing her one pair of shoes until they fell apart because there was no money for new ones. Always having to hustle for every dollar, doing whatever you had to survive, including blowing truckers and cleaning up after ungrateful rich cunts and-

Aw, fuck, I’m that ungrateful rich cunt, aren’t I?

“Uh, by the way, I didn’t actually thank you for visiting my Ma and keeping the house clean. God knows what a fucking disaster it would be without you.”

“You can thank me by giving me a raise.”

The way Trixie said it, not so much a joke as a total flex, made Katya grin at the audaciousness as well as reminding her of a certain assistant with the best resting bitch face she'd ever witnessed.

“You’re a little firecracker, aren’t you?”

“Just know my worth. And it’s definitely more than 10 bucks an hour.”

“Oh god, is that all I said I would pay you?”

“You'd think that considering that much wouldn't even get you a cup of coffee there in the big city would make you realize how it's not enough in this town that's also in the middle of recession and inflation."

“You’re right. I’m sorry about that. How’s 25 dollars an hour sound?”

“Sounds like 5 dollars less than I’m worth.” And fuck, that smile, that cocky grin, it was going from cute to kinda sexy very fast and Katya had to remind herself that she wasn’t gonna be going after some young piece of tail like her mother had.

“You know I have some of the most powerful execs in Hollywood who are too scared to be that demanding with me.”

“I ain’t scared of you.” Trixie said and that smile went positively flirty. “I know you’re nothing but a big softy inside.”

“Hmm, who told you that?”

“Just observation. After all, you did fly across the country to this shit hole because you were worried about your Ma.”

“That wasn’t exactly a consensual choice. Violet made me.”

“Who’s Violet, you’re girlfriend?”

“God, no. Oh Jesus, even the idea of that…”

“I bet you have your pick of all the hot girls out in LA, huh? Must be nice.”

“The queer dating pool here still just the middle school gym teacher and old Mr Dujour and his doll collection?”

“Aw, I love his dolls. He pays me to dust them because he knows I’ll respect them.”

“Another side hustle then?”

“I have a few.”

They grinned at each other then like they both had the same secret, and in a place like that, they kind of did.

“How much for the smokes?”

“An hour of my previously underpaid time.”

Katya snorted out a laugh as she peeled off a 10 dollar bill from the monogrammed Louis Vuitton money clip JR had gotten her after their last fight.

“I’ll see you around, Trixie.”

“Oh you can’t avoid that. I’m everywhere.”

Katya realized that she meant this seriously later that night. After chain smoking in the back yard and glowering at Adore who was sitting in the kiddie pool leaning back against Ma’s legs reading the Prisoner of Azacaban aloud for the rest of the afternoon, she went into the campy fake saloon in town to find Trixie behind the bar.

“Wow, do you ever sleep or are you always working?” Katya asked her as she sat down at the bar.

“Sleep is for the weak. Our founding fathers didn’t declare this country only for white cis men to succeed in for me to not try and exploit misogynistic capitalism and get as much money as possible.”

“Exactly.”

And again, without asking, Trixie started to pour her a single gin and tonic in a tall glass, using the dusty bottle of high end gin from the top shelf and throwing in the Katya’s requisite four lime wedges with minimal ice.

“You got a real Miss Cleo thing going on here, don’t you? Can you predict the stock market too?”

“If I could, do you think I’d still be working here?”

“True, true.”

“And it’s not so much that I’m psychic as I have a good memory. Plus your Ma always says once you find a bad habit you tend to never change what form you want it in, so I figured your preferences haven’t changed since you were 19.”

“Have we met before?”

“You honestly don’t remember me, do you?”

“Should I?”

“I suppose after all the people you’ve encountered, a chubby Ojibwe kid with braces and bad skin wouldn’t exactly stick out.”

“Wait…. Beatrice!?”

“Considering everyone here insists on calling me that despite me explaining dead names, yeah that would be me. Or used to be, at least.”

“You look….”

“Very, very different. Yeah, time and makeup and Blondissma and hairspray does that to a person.”

“How old are you now?”

“Twenty three.”

Katya let out a whistle.

“Damn, if you’re that old, what does that make me?”

“I don’t think most people would consider thirty as old.”

“In LA thirty is a senior citizen. Seriously, I’m one step away from being forced into an old folks home by the state of California.” Katya realized something. “Wait, how do you know how old I am?”

“Uh, obviously because I was, like, totally obsessed with you back when you would babysit me.”

Katya thought of little Beatrice at twelve who followed her around like a duckling, doing what her pre-teen brain thought an adult was, trying to look unaffected and acting like she knew everything and it was all sooo boring being undercut by the pigtail braids. Katya always a soft spot for her, those big brown eyes looking at her like she was the coolest person she’d ever seen, especially back when everyone else thought she was a huge loser.

“You know the teachers at school always blamed you for me being gay. They said you were a bad influence and that you put all sorts of ideas in my head.”

“I’m imagining some kind of reference to grooming happening.”

“It is a classic ignorant homophobe go-to.”

“How did you respond?”

“That I knew I was gay the first time I watched the X-Files and encountered Gillian Anderson. I didn’t know you were gay until years later when your mom asked me to help her clean out her garage. I found all of your, uh, stories.”

“Oh my god, was my…”

“Your Xena fanfiction, yeah. I promise I only read like three of them.”

“OH GOD!” Katya felt truly mortified at the idea of anyone reading the sad scrawlings of a 16 year old who’s lesbianism at that point was all theory and no practice.

“I know they were pretty rough, but honestly some of them had great plot lines and some damn convincing narratives. The attempts at sex scenes though-”

“Oh god, no.” She smashed her face into her palms.

“You might not have understood the exact mechanics of lesbian sex but honestly, they were still pretty good.”

“Well, I promise that I actually do know what I’m doing now.”

“I’m sure you do.”

This got Katya to pull her hands away from her face to check if the look on Trixie’s face matched the sly tone of those words and got to see that, yeah, there was definitely some weighted suggestion behind them.

“You know, you were my first big crush.” Trixie said, losing a little of that bravado as her cheeks flushed pink and she suddenly became extremely interested in wiping down the already clean bar.

“Wow, from me to Gillian Anderson, what an upgrade.”

“Oh, I dunno. Felt like a pretty even playing field.”

Katya stopped and really looked at this blonde bombshell in front of her. Her hair was the full Barbie fantasy (Katya fondly remembered the diamond tennis bracelet Margot bought her after getting her that role,) platinum curls that laid over her shoulders perfectly, her eyes with dark sweeps of liner ending in a sharp cat eye, her over generous mouth painted a perfect candy pink. She was wearing a fringed bolero jacket over a bright pink satin bustier, her tiny waist and full hips accented by the tight little short shorts she had on.

“So this the uniform here at… what’s the kitschy palace called?”

“I Like To Watch Saloon.”

Katya let out a loud laugh.

“You know what, I dig it. Who runs it?”

“Cody, this gay guy who moved here last year. He got gentrified outta the big city so he came here to open a bar.”

“And how is that going for him?”

“You can ask him yourself. He’s right down there.”

Katya looked down the bar to see a tiny Asian man staring at them intensely and had to smother a laugh.

“Wow, that’s quite the gaze.”

“Yeah, he takes everything very seriously. Though honestly he’s probably looking at you like that because you’ve still not paid me.”

“Oh, shit, sorry. Here.” She gave Trixie her credit card. “Start a tab for me, will ya? I think I’m gonna need many, many drinks tonight.”

“You’re not going back to Bianca’s to spend some time with her?”

“Apparently tonight is-”

“HBO Sunday, yeah right. Her and Adore are super obsessed with White Lotus.”

“Yeah, I don’t need to see the show that refused to cast one of my biggest clients.”

“Oh, girl, spill the tea.”

“You can’t really be interested in all that kind of stuff.”

“Are you kidding me? Compared to around here where the biggest news is that Sarah over there finally shit after not being able to for twenty days.”

“Jesus, that is big news. Twenty days?”

“Of course her dumb ass was still coming in her every night eating hot wings. Finally she realized that she just needed to be emptied and then come back.”

“Huh. See usually I’m like-”

“Fill me and let me leave.” They both said at the same time, making this little femme let out a decidedly not ladylike laugh that could only be described as the sound of a bird screaming.

“Wow, Trixie, you’re a total whore too, huh?”

“Not a lot of chances to be around here, so in spirit and filthy mind only. But a desperate lesbian will take what she can get.” Trixie leaned forward, resting her elbows on the bar and smiling conspiratorially at her. “So. Tell me who’s gay in Hollywood and no one knows.”

“Many more people than you’d imagine.” Katya let out a deep sigh, thinking about JR.

“You probably get hit on all the time out there by those women considering you’re so-” Trixie suddenly stopped herself, blushing as she once again got very intent with cutting up bar fruit.

Katya had a pretty good idea of what she was gonna say and thought it was real sweet, this pretty girl who obviously still very much had a crush on her. It was flattering for Katya’s ego to know that someone wanted her that much, especially after JR liked to leave her on read for days.

Despite all the obvious differences between them the more she talked to Trixie that night the more she discovered they had in common. Trixie had the same acerbic sense of humour, dryly delivering lines that made Katya laugh so hard she wheezed, and then Katya volleying back some of her most insane thoughts, the same ones that would make most people in LA look at her like she was crazy making Trixie throw her head back and let out that bird laugh again.

Eventually a tall, cool blonde, one with a blonde curly bob very similar to Katya’s own and wearing thick black rimmed cat eye glasses came up to the bar.

“Hey Belle, what’s up?” Trixie said, passing her a huge glass of white wine.

“Nothing much, Trix. Just glad to be here in time to hear you sing.” She said in a British accent.

“Sing?” Katya asked, her interest piqued.

“Oh yes, Trixie here is our town’s biggest superstar.”

“Considering he’s the most famous person in town, that’s not really a compliment.” Trixie said, indicating the weird white trash dude with the blonde curly mullet and open shirt regaling a whole table of dudes with some fantastical tale. “No one can compete with that tiger obsessed homo.”

“You’re a very close second, honey.” She smiled at Katya. “That’s why you’re here, right? Someone from the city who’s gonna finally give our girl the record deal she deserves?”

“Belle!” Trixie hissed at her.

“I can sniff out an industry person a mile away. I did use to work for Pinewood Studios in London, you know.”

“Yeah, as a custodian.”

“Best way to find out all the secrets.” Belle said, then took a big sip of her wine. “DING DONG, that’s what I was looking for!"

With that she took her giant glass and wandered over to the group of drunk middle aged white women who were already getting rowdy. Katya turned back to face Trixie, trying to hide the fact that she was feeling used for her contacts. It wasn’t the first time it had happened to her, but this time she actually felt something in response, something that in a normally emotionally developed person could have been described as hurt, but of course, she would no longer allow herself to feel anything like that so it didn’t matter.

“So, a record deal huh?”

“That’s not-”

“Hey, you’re all about the hustle. I respect that.”

“I swear that’s not why I’ve been talking to you. Well, I mean, it would obviously be amazing but I know you’re a theatrical agent and not a musical agent, but I do really want to get to know you as an adult and as an adult myself because you’re still the coolest person I know and oh my god, I’m so embarrassed that I just said that.”

Trixie’s face could still hide nothing of what she was feeling just like when she was a pre-teen so Katya knew there really was no ulterior motive.

“Listen, it’s all good. You’re not the first to take advantage of my time and presence to pursue a dream and you won’t be the last. I don’t really have any connection in the music industry, but I can at least give you some hints. Like mainly don’t rely on mainstream record labels and try and do it yourself on like TikTok or something. You’ll get more attention and views there than the traditional way now.”

“I do have a TikTok account and it’s pretty popular. It’s just hard because I can’t afford any real recording equipment beyond my iPhone and the table top ring light I got off Amazon. At least because you’re here you can hear me play live, which is the best way.”

“I was actually just about to call it a night, unfortunately. I wanna make sure I get home before Adore leaves so we can have a very frank and open conversation after Ma passes out from her nightly bottle of chardonnay.”

“Okay, that’s totally legit. But can I say three things first?”

“Sure, hit me with it.”

“Number one is that your mom is so in love with Adore. I know they seem like the ultimate odd couple and yeah there’s an age difference but Adore transforms your mom. She makes her so happy and so… so tender. I never knew that love could make someone so sweet. It’s honestly inspiring to think that even when you’re that weird you can still find someone else out there who’s the same kind of weird to love you.”

“I haven’t seen much of that yet, but thank you for telling me this. What’s the second thing?”

“I went to high school with Adore and she is the kindest, most wonderful person. She used to be so shy and insecure and since she met your mom she’s transformed too. She’s totally blossomed and it’s like your mom loving her has let her know she’s safe.”

“Okay. What’s the third thing?”

Trixie walked out from behind the bar, grabbing her guitar from where it was resting against the fridge as she did. She slipped the strap up over her shoulder and slid the guitar around so it was against her back, then walked up to Katya. Once she was a mere foot away from her she dropped her eyes coquettishly as she reached out to fiddle with the button on Katya’s top, her cheeks all pink.

“You need to stay and hear me sing.” She said it like she was disclosing a very important secret, finally fluttering those lashes up to look Katya in the eye.

“I do, huh?”

“Yeah.” Trixie’s face got very intent then, and it wasn’t some little girl with braces and dirty braids looking at her, it was a beautiful woman who knew exactly what she wanted. “You won’t regret it.”

It took a lot to engage Katya's genuine attention in someone after over a decade in an industry that was all about what was essentially lying about who you really were as the central idea of it, acting only really pretending in her eyes. But this creature in front of her, this light in such a dim, dingy place, was more authentic than anyone Katya had encountered in a long, long time and she found it impossible to leave.

When she got on that stage and the spotlight hit her, reflecting off those big blonde curls and that bright smile, it made her shine even brighter. The audience whooped and hollered and Katya realized that it was to capacity now, everyone apparently there to hear Trixie sing.

“Hey everyone! This song goes out to a very special lady!” Trixie said and started to play a fast, old school country rock riff.

Katya recognized the Dolly Parton song immediately, a love of her music, an impossible to pronounce last name and a hereditary predisposition for hyperglycemia being the only things her father left her. Trixie turned towards Katya and seemed to be singing it right to her.

“Oh! Why’d you come in here lookin’ like that, with your high heel boots and your painted on jeans, all dressed up like a cowgirl’s dream, why’d you come in here lookin’ like that.”

Katya laughed and shook her head when Trixie winked at her, again so charmed by the audaciousness of this cheeky girl. The next song was an original one, something sweet and sad about growing up in a small town that was good, truly good. Trixie’s voice was clear in tone, and the words were poignant with a deeply relatable meaning, and Katya got it, got why this tiny bar in the middle of nowhere was full to the brim of people there to hear her.

And Trixie was right, she didn’t regret staying. In fact that night she didn’t regret anything in that moment, not coming to this godforsaken place where the sound of a beautiful, very talented woman singing allowed her to forget how she kept tying herself to closeted actresses, constantly denying herself any real emotional connection. Right there, listening to Trixie sing it felt like that blonde was saying all Katya’s most complicated feelings about this town and its people, letting her feel truly understood about what it was like to grow up there for the first time ever.

Chapter Text

She was on her third Zoom call when the internet conked out. As soon as silence descended she could hear her mother’s unmistakable cackle as well as another very similar noise.

“Fucking Bunny’s here.” She groaned to herself, banging her forehead on the card table she’d rigged up in the guest room to actually get some work done.

It was unavoidable to have to go out there now considering she had no mobile signal (hate this fucking place so much) to fix the wifi she was relying on to finalize the deal for her client to be in the latest shitty DC movie. What she was not expecting was to find Adore standing out in the hallway with the disconnected modem in her hand.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Katya growled.

“You’re here to spend time with your mother, not cursing and calling everyone a whore into your Macbook.”

“Who do you think I learned to do that from?  Your septuagenarian fiancee, that's who."  She dropped into her most menacing tone, the same one that once reduced Michael Eisner to tears.  "You like this house? You like all the money I send my mother? You think that just magically happens? Because it doesn’t. This is all from the work I’ve done and need to do to keep you supplied with Teenbeat Magazine and ring pops and New Kids on the Block posters.”

“I have no idea what any of those things are.”

“Of course not, because you’re 12.”

“Same age as a certain bubbly blonde who you were ogling last night at the Saloon.”

“How do you know that?”

“Wow, you’ve actually forgotten about this place’s incredibly fast grapevine.”

“Being friendly is not ogling.”

“Sure.” Adore said, rich with sarcasm.

“You know, this is an excellent opportunity here for me to give you your eviction notice. So here it is. Get the fuck out of my mother’s house.”

“If you kick me out your Ma will come with me.”

“Whatever gaslighting you’re doing to her-”

“You really don’t get it, do you? Bee always says that you're selfish and she’s right.”

She’d been called many terrible things by many a cisgender, straight, rich white man whose mothers and wives and children she would insult when they wouldn’t agree to her terms for a contract. This time, though, this time was different, hitting her in some deep place, somewhere hidden far from acknowledgement. She remembered this feeling, remembered how her Ma’s blunt honesty calling her out would hurt, and it was like traveling back through time, being an insecure and emotionally fucked up teenager who wasn’t ready to hear how much this town would never understand her, as her Ma liked to remind her of repeatedly.

“You flew all this way to see her. Now actually go see her.” Adore said, clutching the modem to her chest. “It would mean a lot to her.”

“She’s fine. She’s got her cunty friend Bunny with her, and as I recall they don’t like having their morning boozy coffee interrupted.”

“So you’re not scared of screaming at Zack Synder for not wanting to put your client into his latest shitty movie but you are scared of Bunny. Got it.”

This was a sure sign that Adore had been spending a lot of time with her mother because it was a classic Bianca move.

“Alright, but I’m only going out there to have the coffee.”

“Whatever.” Adore said, rolling her eyes.

When Katya got out to the back yard she found her mother’s lifelong frenemy Bunny and her sitting at the dirty glass patio table on mismatched floral patterned lawn chairs smoking cigarettes. The visual was so familiar, the same one she’d seen multiple mornings growing up, Bunny and her man hands flicking the ash off her Pall Malls into the overflowing ashtray.

“Well, if it isn’t the Lindberg baby returning home.” Bunny drawled as she exhaled a plume of smoke.

“Lindberg baby? Is there anyone around here who knows an actual recent pop culture reference?” Adore said, perching herself on the arm of Bianca’s chair.

“If you want that maybe you should go back to the playground where this old hag found you.” Bunny said, apparently still calling ‘em like she sees ‘em.

“It wasn’t the playground, you old shriveled up cunt. It was the soda pop shoppe.” Bianca responded with that giant grin of hers.

“Shut up, you slag. I wanna talk to this one here.” Bunny pointed at Katya as she smashed her cigarette into the bottom of her off brand Croc. “I heard you were hitting on my daughter last night.”

“I wasn’t hitting on anyone.”

“All moon eyed while she was singing, apparently.” Bianca said, arching her brow at Katya.

“If enjoying her music is moon-eyeing then maybe.”

“Of course you were because my Trixie is extremely talented and way too good for this shithole.”

“I agree.”  Katya said.

“So you gonna get her a record deal or what?” Bunny narrowed her eyes at her.

“I don’t work in the music industry, Bunny.”

“Close enough.”

“Bunny, it’s not like that anymore.” Adore said. “Trixie needs exposure through her social media, but that’s impossible unless the algorithm picks up on what she’s doing. Then she’ll be able to go viral and use that to get sponsors for better equipment and eventually do a tour of some small venues so everyone can see just how amazing she is.”

This pragmatic and knowledgeable explanation surprised Katya, quickly being replaced with suspicion at someone who understood how to exploit things for their own gain being the same one currently smoking one of her Ma’s cigarettes and drinking her Ma’s booze in her Ma’s backyard, all things Katya had paid for herself.

“Give me one of those.” Katya snapped, motioning to her mother’s signature pack of Marlboros.

“So much for quitting smoking huh?” Bianca said.

“How the fuck would you know that?”

“Because that lovely assistant of yours actually answers my calls and talks to me, unlike my ungrateful daughter.”

“Shut up, you whore. Leave her alone.” Bunny said.

“Did not expect you to defend me.” Katya muttered as she lit her smoke.

“You can make it up to me by going to visit my daughter.” Bunny answered, picking up the smashed iPhone 6 on the table and turning it on to reveal giant text. “Here, Adore, message her and tell her Katya’s coming over.”

“What’s her hustle today?” Adore asked as she did.

“Babysitting those little monsters of Jennifer’s.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna take a pass on that one then.” Katya said.

“Don’t worry, they won’t bother you.” Bianca said as her and Bunny both cackled.

She found out what they meant when she got to one of the classically suburban houses in the same rich person part of town as her Ma's place and Trixie invited her inside to find a couple of kids passed out on the couch.

“These the little assholes?” Katya asked.

“Yeah, don’t worry about them. I give each of them a giant spoonful of Nyquil when I’m here and they don’t bother me.”

“You’re a genius, Trixie. A true genius.”

“You know what they say about struggle producing it. Probably why you’re so smart yourself.”

“Oh no, I’m not smart. I’m just a bitch who knows how to degrade people until they give me what I want and had to choose between monetizing it as a Domme or an agent.”

“Says the woman who knows multiple languages. How many do you speak now? Because you were up to three when you were still here.”

No one had ever asked her about that before, not even her multiple girlfriends who were all too self centered and stupid to realize that she was speaking fluent Spanish to the waiter when they went out for Tex Mex.

“Hmm, maybe six? Spanish, French, English, Italian, Chinese, though I suck at that last one, uh, and lately Latin.”

“That is such a flex.” Trixie said, then switched to some not great but still passable French. “I still remember what you taught me.”

“Very good.” Katya said in English. “Glad I had someone back then who gave a shit about that particular interest of mine. And, honestly, someone now.”

“Really? No one realizes how fucking badass that is?”

“Not currently, no.”

“What a bunch of fucking idiots.”

“Nah, more just your run of the mill selfish LA cunts.”

“Ah, so that’s what’s happened to you. You’ve gone native, as my problematic mother likes to say.”

“You calling me selfish too?”

Trixie had the good graces to look caught out and embarrassed at that.

“Not selfish, just… I guess, detached from the real world.”

“You think this is the real world? Oh, no, Mary, this is far from it. This place is just gossips and bigots and repression and bad dietary habits.”

“That is all true, yes, but there are some good, very real things here. Including that pistol of a mother of yours.”

“You know a very different version of her than the one who raised me.”

“Oh, she’s still a poisonous hag for sure.  Same with my own mother. But I never doubt either one is looking out for me.”

“Yeah, Bunny was doing some of that herself this morning.”

“Oh god.”

“No, no, it was actually quite something to witness from another salty, sarcastic bitch like myself.”

“Mom’s a good example of how you can be both.”

“Is that some kind of suggestion?”

Trixie went all bimbo then, breathy voiced and twirling her curls around her fingers.

“Well, geez, I don’t know what you mean, I’m just a little baby who knows nothing except how to be sexy and stupid.”

“You definitely know how to be one of those things.”

It came out of Katya’s mouth without thought, freezing them both in the moment, Trixie going from bimbo to pleased instantly.

“Did you just call me stupid?” She said, cracking Katya up and then laughing with her.

“Well you know what they say about blondes.”

“That we all have chlamydia?”

“Yes, exactly. Mine’s leaking out of me right now.”

“Ugh, same.”

This sent them into hysterics, Trixie reaching out blindly and Katya realizing she was looking for her hand. As soon as she had it, Trixie pulled Katya to her and smashed her face into her shoulder as she bird laughed so loud it made Katya partially deaf in one ear for a solid minute afterwards and god she loved it.

Once they’d calmed down they both realized that Trixie was still holding her hand. In a moment of girlish embarrassment extremely uncharacteristic of her, Katya felt her cheeks flush and had to look away until Trixie let go.  A bit of awkwardness remained until Trixie spoke again like nothing weird had just happened.

“You want something to eat? Mom, well, actually, most likely Adore, told me when she texted that you’d only had some coffee and a cigarette.”

“Yeah, I’ll have some of those disgusting Cheetos.” She said, gesturing to the bag that one of the orange faced kids was still clutching.

“Oh, no, no, no. I can do much better than that.”

Sitting up at the kitchen counter, she got to watch as Trixie whipped up a dish very familiar to her.

“Is this Ma’s tuna fish casserole?”

“Oh, you know it.”

“Please tell me you’re putting smashed up Lays chips on the top.”

“Duh, obviously. Otherwise, what’s the point of this beige mess?”

Trixie absolutely proved that she stayed true to the recipe when Katya took her first bite and the taste transported her back to Sunday dinners with Bunny and little Beatrice at their rickety kitchen table.

“So what’s the other hustle for today?” Katya asked after they’d finished eating and moved to the backyard so Katya could smoke.

“I’m here until 6 when these little assholes's mother gets home and then I have to get back to the Saloon for my shift.”

“How long have you been here for?”

“Since 6 am.”

“But you didn’t even leave the bar last night until like 2 am.”

“Hence the drugged children so I can have at least a few more hours of sleep.”

“You’re truly remarkable, Jackie. Do you know that?”

“Hmm, less remarkable and more desperate to save up enough money to get the fuck out of here.”

“Where do you wanna go?”

“Nashville, I guess. Somewhere I can play some actual good venues and share my music with other people. That’s my real dream, you know. To just have people hear me.”

“Yes, I remember what that felt like when I was here, like no one was actually listening to me.”

“And did you find someone to listen?”

“That’s all I do, make people listen when I speak.”

“That’s so hot.” And there was that grin again, so beguiling and very, very tempting until she remembered that she had a girlfriend who was definitely not waiting for her back in LA.

“Well, might I have the pleasure of escorting you to your next endeavor?”

“That would be lovely.”

After Jennifer got home looking exhausted and grateful for the kids still being groggy, Katya and Trixie had walked towards the Saloon. And despite said girlfriend, Katya couldn’t help herself, unable to not be a gentleman to a beautiful woman and offering her arm for Trixie to take. The little smile and tucked chin when Trixie threaded her soft arm through Katya’s was so sweet and so pure that she already knew it was gonna haunt her.

Once Trixie started her shift, Katya found that she didn’t want to let her go, that she wanted to keep on talking to her. The fact that Trixie seemed to really listen and be just as interested in Katya as she was becoming in Trixie was addictive.  It was like Katya had found someone who actually spoke her first language, sarcasm and swearing and throwing shade and gossiping and making stupid jokes. She took the first moment where Trixie was distracted to go over to the little homo who owned the place and said she was ordering every bottle of high end booze in this place and whatever left that she didn’t drink he could keep. Of course he knew what she meant, that she was essentially paying for Trixie’s company.

“You think Miss Martel there would be okay with you essentially treating her like a prostitute?”

“As someone who used to do sex work, I can assure you that I am definitely doing nothing of the sort. I just want her to have one evening where she doesn’t have to deal with all the drunken assholes here, especially that one.”

She jerked a thumb in the direction of the khaki wearing loser warbling out some terrible song to his girlfriend Elena.

So she got her wish, her way of going about it obviously clear to Trixie, who didn’t remark on it, and Katya could tell by her shoulders and her face actually relaxing at not having to interact with any of the weirdos in the place. Especially the chick in a 40 dollar CVS blonde wig with the bad Transatlantic accent who kept calling everyone Maggie-Moo.

And again she got to watch Trixie perform, this time all original songs, each one speaking of the experiences Katya too had in this shitty small town drawing her in, and yeah, she was definitely making moon eyes at her. When the place was closing, Trixie had walked up to where Katya was still sitting up to the bar to gently squeeze Katya’s hand.

“You know, as much as I've liked having you hanging out with me all day, and I've very much enjoyed it by the way, you really should go spend some time with your Ma.”

“Oh, god, not you too.”

“I know that you see her as the representative of everything bad that happened to you growing up, but she was just doing as best she could as a single mom who was poor as fuck with a gay daughter in a conservative town. And she does love you very much.”

“Funny way of showing it.” Katya mumbled, full of that guilt and shame she was starting to feel over leaving her Ma on her own for so long.

“If you don’t believe me, go look at the blue photo album next to the couch. Then you’ll see.”

Katya was intrigued by this. When she got back to the house, all the lights were off except the big Christmas tree in the front room making everything golden and warm. She’d not been to a proper home with an actual traditional tree in a long time, her own sterile apartment in WeHo and all the other coldly modern places she would go to in December never having anything besides some pretentious version of a tree that looked like it came from Christmas in Brutalist Germany. Looking closer at it she could see all those ornaments she remembered as a child, including the ones she’d made in school growing up, all scrawled crayon and wonky cut out lines. This bit of innocence they represented and the apparent love that her Ma must have to still put them out made Katya feel something, something that might actually be…tenderness?  

Gross.

“Probably just brought them out this year to make me feel guilty.” She mumbled to herself, instantly going to her tried and true coping mechanism of negativity.

She walked past it and into the living room to find her Ma spooned up behind Adore on the couch, both of them fast asleep. Even her cold dead heart couldn’t deny how happy and peaceful they both looked, having not seen her Ma like that in…. maybe never. Maybe something that made her like that wasn’t the worst thing ever.

As quietly as she could she found the blue photo album tucked under a side table that was covered in dozens of ceramic baby Jesuses. Opening it she found page after page of magazine clippings about her career, the profile in LA Magazine of her, the various pictures of her at the Emmys and the Oscars and that memorable Golden Globes where her and her latest closeted girlfriend had gotten extremely drunk and Katya had told Sean Penn that he was an abusive piece of shit who’s career she was gonna ruin. There was even the mortifying long read in last May’s Vanity Fair by Maureen Dowd, one of the few women Katya had ever met who out-cunted her by painting her as a lesbian who hated men - which was only half true considering all the gay men she was friends with.

When Katya looked up from the album she found Bianca awake and giving her that look, one that Katya would see every night when her Ma would come to her bedroom door to tell her good night, this very subtle expression of affection that was the closest she ever got to her sarcastic mother being openly emotional with her. Seeing it now, after all this time and all she’d done, made some foreign feeling open up in her chest and she couldn’t believe it herself when she reached out to squeeze her Ma’s foot.

It was worth it when she saw a truly genuine smile on her Ma’s face, one she couldn’t help but give her own sheepish one back.

“You did good, kid.” Bianca whispered, pride obvious in her voice.

Looking at how content Adore was in her Ma’s arms, she thought about how Adore had defended and advocated for her Ma and for Trixie.  She also had to recognize how much like she herself had been when she was young and still stuck in this horrible town, how it had made her more mature than her age suggested.

“You did good too, Ma.” She whispered back and saw how instantly relieved and grateful she was that she finally saw that.

“You actually gonna spend some time with me tomorrow or what?”

“Christmas is all about giving to the less fortunate, so I guess.”

“Didn’t you hear? I have a rich, successful daughter who pays for everything, so there’s nothing less fortunate about my life now.”

“Aren’t you lucky?” Katya answered drily and was shocked by the sincerity of her Ma’s reply.

“I sure am.”

So she did as she said she would and spent the next morning and well into the afternoon sitting in the backyard at that cracked glass table, chain smoking and slamming back Red Bulls with Bianca, their matching dark and twisted senses of humour making them say all sorts of very inappropriate things that made them both wheeze and cackle. Something about hearing her Ma’s unmistakable laugh made her nostalgic in a good way, making her remember when she was able to provoke that laugh was the highlight of her day growing up.

Around 3 o’clock Adore arrived home, hopefully from a job she actually had, reminding them that it was indeed Christmas Eve and they had to get ready for their guests.

“Do Bunny and Trixie still come over for the evening?”

“Can’t break tradition!” Bianca announced, getting up with a bit more stiffness than Katya liked and she made a mental note to find an actual doctor for her to see and not whatever veterinarian who was trying to give out medical care to people in this shitty place.

Katya was a lot more excited than she was willing to admit at the idea of seeing Trixie again even though it had been less than 24 hours since she last had. She was also unwilling to admit that was the reason she put on her slinky red satin Fleur du Mal dress that Violet had packed for her, most likely because Violet knew what a flex it was on Katya and as always making sure she was as intimidating as possible. Trixie’s wide eyes and stammering when she saw her in it was very gratifying, but not in the usual way it would be. It wasn’t so much about feeling that power over someone this time as it was about how… fluttery it made her feel to see how much Trixie liked it. Of course Trixie looked just as good in her sparkly pink dress with the pretty white blouse under it, her blonde curls all piled on top of her head and her lips a matching bubblegum pink. It made Katya feel even more disconcerted, not just by how much she wanted this delicious looking cupcake, one thing she was willing to fully admit to now, but also by that same fluttery feeling she got whenever she saw that smile and those bright eyes directed at her.

It ended up being a very enjoyable evening, maybe one of the best Katya had had in a long time. Instead of standing around some pretentious Christma Eve party as the only real ass bitch in a fake ass world, only allowed to drink clear liquids lest she spill something on Dakota Johnson's all white living room, she got to sit up to the dining room table, all set with the wedding china of her mysterious Gramma Ru who’d she’d never met (not dead, just estranged when her Ma had disowned her for living on a fracking farm exploiting natural resources.) Trixie and Adore had made the traditional turkey dinner, even including the almond covered green beans and sweet potatoes with marshmallows that were Katya’s favorite.

“So this you being a psychic again or…?” She said to Trixie sitting next to her.

“Nah, you just never forget anyone who actually likes that gross shit.” Trixie answered, making Katya wheeze laugh at being called out.

After they’d gone back into the living room and watched White Christmas, her Ma’s favorite holiday movie that they always put on that night. The old ladies bagged out after that, saying that the wine and the turkey had done them in for the night. Adore quickly followed Bianca into her room and then it was just her and Trixie together on the couch.

“I seem to recall A Christmas Story being your favorite.” Katya said to her.

“When I was 11, yeah.”

“Okay, fancy grown up lady, what’s your favorite now?”

Trixie gave her that cheeky grin when she found Batman Returns on Netflix and started playing it, making Katya snort laugh and shake her head.

“Of course, this seminal holiday classic.”

“It takes place at Christmas! Besides, Michelle Pfeiffer in that vinyl catsuit? Yes, please.”

They spent the first part of the movie with Trixie asking Katya all about the change from actual residuals going from something you could live on to pennies because of streaming services and about how these studios thought that AIs could replace writers and CGI could replace actors was affecting her deal making. These very informed questions from someone who was so far from Katya’s industry was surprising, yet again revealing just how shrewd Trixie had become, a quality in a woman that always got Katya all hot and bothered.

After the movie was over, Katya found herself requesting It’s a Wonderful Life. When Trixie looked surprised at this sentimental choice, Katya had covered for this moment of weakness by saying it would be nice to watch a movie by a studio and a director and with actors that she’d never had to deal with in her work. Trixie obviously didn’t buy this explanation but said nothing, instead giving her the softest smile while starting the movie.

They got about a half hour into it before Trixie dropped off to sleep next to Katya. She wasn’t surprised to see it, knowing how sleep deprived she was, and found herself watching her more than the movie. It was mesmerizing and calming in a way Katya hadn’t ever experienced before to see that pretty face relaxed, the golden light of the Christmas tree highlighting the sweep of the lashes and the slightly opened lips, the sound of the little snores and the way she seemed to be slowly leaning towards Katya. Unable to stop herself, she lifted up her arm and tried to control her thundering heart when Trixie immediately snuggled up under it and into her side. Katya remembered the night before when she saw Bianca and Adore all cuddled up on that same couch looking just as peaceful and happy as she felt.

When she woke up the next morning still on the couch, she felt a genuine stab of sadness that Trixie was gone. The smell of waffles and coffee eased that and she got up to find Trixie in the kitchen, little smears of flour on her cheeks and the cozy Christmas sweater she’d put on making her look even cuter than usual. Bianca and Adore said nothing about the fact that Trixie had stayed over, and even when Bunny arrived, she didn’t address it, which was truly a Christmas miracle.

“So, uh… so where’s this wedding gonna happen?” Katya finally asked while they were eating breakfast.

“Right here.” Bianca said. “We wanted it to be just us, with no gossips or judgemental cunts from this place around.”

“This isn’t anyone’s business but our own.” Adore announced in that same determined voice she seemed to have whenever she was standing up for Bianca.

“Then who’s doing the ceremony?” Katya asked.

“I am.” Bunny said as she shoved her third waffle into her mouth.

“Did you become a chaplain while I was gone or something?”

“Nah, it ain’t gonna be some kind of legal thing.” Adore answered.

“Why the fuck would we get the state involved? We don’t need their permission to be together for always.” Bianca said, her usual snarky tone laced with determination. “Besides, I wouldn’t want anyone to think that my sweetie here was doing this as a legal means to my daughter’s income”

Katya was truly surprised at this, asking why she’d not just told her.

“Because I love watching you having to eat shit, that’s why.” Bianca said.

“Thanks for that.” Katya shook her head.

“Merry Christmas, kid.”

The supposedly fake ceremony ended up feeling very real, much like everything in this town seemed to be. Bunny was the perfect person to do it, making them vow to eat each other’s boxes on the regular and for Adore to always wipe the drool and pluck the hairs off her aging wife’s chin and for Bianca to make sure that Adore had her afternoon snack of goldfish crackers and a Capri Sun, then assuring them that this abomination of all things holy was God’s will.

What Katya had not been expecting were the incredibly sweet vows Adora and her Ma had written. Hearing her Ma being emotionally vulnerable like that was a shock, having not heard her speak like that since before Katya had become the bitchy, tortured soul of a teenager who regularly told her to fuck off and leave her alone. Realizing this, she took responsibility finally for how she’d unintentionally pushed her away then and for the last decade, seeing her not as her Ma who worked hard and sacrificed everything to give Katya a home and food on the table and the presence of at least one parent who loved her. But she didn’t have the language to communicate any of that, feeling like it was locked behind a paywall like a salacious article on the New Yorker website.

Afterwards the five of them got day-drunk, sipping on eggnog that was half rum, and then having the traditional Christmas dinner from Katya’s childhood of hot dogs cut up in Kraft Dinner. Back then Bianca had always presented it as a treat, which it was what with it being made with milk and butter and not water like every other time they had it. Now she saw what her Ma had been doing, trying to give her something special that was within her very limited means. And even though she didn’t have the words, she was still able to reach out for Bianca’s hand and nod silently at her, her (formerly) fellow emotionally stunted mother understanding what it meant and actually tugging Katya over to her to give her a one armed hug that Bunny and Trixie and Adore politely didn’t acknowledge knowing how embarrassed they’d both be if they did.

That evening found all five of them out in the backyard, Adore and Bianca having their first dance under the tacky icicle lights to Pattie LaBelle's 'Christmasing With You.' Seeing them so enraptured with each other, the way both of them seemed to light up when looking into each other’s eyes, made Katya desperately wish it was something she would ever have, even though she knew it was impossible.

She noticed where Trixie was half hidden in the shadows by the back door, her eyes not on the obnoxiously happy couple but on Katya herself. As soon as she was caught looking, she flushed a very pretty shade of her obvious signature colour pink and then ducked inside the house. Katya couldn’t have stopped herself from following, from fighting that magnetic draw she seemed to have to this beautiful woman who had become so important to her over just a few days.

The house was dark and quiet inside, and it felt suspended out of time, like everything had paused and she was in a space with no eyes watching, no demands being made. Just her and Trixie, who was leaning against the entrance to the kitchen with her arms wrapped around her and the most wistful look on her face.

“Hey, you okay?” Katya asked, walking up to her.

“Just gets lonely sometimes.” Trixie said, her voice filled with a sadness Katya had a wild impulse in reaction to, wanting to make it go far, far away.

“I know the feeling.”

“Even out in the big city with people everywhere?”

“Makes it even more lonely sometimes.”

“You never find anyone to make it less lonely?”

“Not easy when everyone around you is deeply in the closet or totally emotionally stunted or both.” And here it was, when she had to be honest. “Including my girlfriend.”

“Oh,” it came out of Trixie more as a punched exhale, and Katya watched as the disappointment and hurt flashed over that pretty face. “And who’s the lucky lady?”

“Someone who’s very, very closeted. So much so that I never really talk about being with her because it’s all supposed to be this big secret.”

“Right. Don’t wanna out anyone who isn’t ready.” Trixie said, chewing on her bottom lip and obviously trying to be strong and brave in the face of this withheld truth and not immediately lashing out at Katya for leading her on like she has every right to.  

“It’s that, yeah, but also… I guess it’s also my way of avoiding any real attachment that could become something more serious.”

“Why is that?”

“Part of it is the fact that everyone around me are phonies who view all people, especially people with a lot of influence like me, as a way to make themselves even more famous.”

“That happen a lot?”

“All the time.” Katya said quietly, finally able to admit how it secretly hurt her.

“And the other part of it?”

“That I wouldn’t know what to do if I ever was with someone who was real, and good, and genuine, and wasn’t with me because they want something for themselves. Because that’s how I am too. Just needing a good fuck that actually wants to linger for a bit to pretend to have emotional intimacy with me.”

“Does it have to be like that?” Trixie asked just as quietly, already knowing to tread carefully in this foreign and trusting openness.

“Yes. Because that’s all I’m capable of.”

“I think you’re underestimating yourself, Katya. Because the woman I’ve been around for the last few days is definitely able to truly care and love, even for a cantankerous mother who can be very blunt and prickly. Which is the exact reason I love your Ma so much. And where you get it from, of course.”

“I guess.” Katya said, unable to process any of these ideas.

“Can you give me a hint maybe?”

“About what?”

“Who your, uh, your girlfriend is.”

“Her initials are JR.”

“JR? Damn, okay. JR….. hmm… now I know some of your clients, especially the bigger ones, and they’re all… JR, JR, JR…. oh my god, is it-”

“Yes.”

“But she’s-”

“Married to a man. Most of them are.”

“Wow, okay. I definitely can’t compete with her.” Trixie said, eyes downcast.

In that moment all Katya could feel was anger at herself, that she had lead this beautiful woman on, not just because of her girlfriend who hadn’t even texted her that day to say Merry Christmas, but because she was so messed up emotionally she would never be able to give someone as good and sweet as Trixie what she deserved.

“Trixie, you’re ten times the woman she is.”

Finally she looked up, her eyes a little wet with a sad smile on her face.

“I guess.”

“I know.” Katya said.

“I suppose this means I’m standing under the mistletoe for nothing then and my dastardly plan has gone awry.” Trixie let out a miserable little laugh, breaking Katya’s heart.

And it might have been selfish and cruel in the long run, but she couldn’t stop herself from stepping close to her, putting her fingers under Trixie’s chin and tipped her face towards hers. Kissing this magical woman in this liminal space felt like she was in a dream, where she was the person who she’d always secretly hoped to be, who could love openly and without shame.

Katya had rarely known a misery as acute as she did the day after when she was on the private plane back to LA. Violet, making the correct assumption that flying commercial after days of living like the common folk would be a step too far for her, had goaded the head of Netflix into lending Katya his private plane with the promise of it sweetening their next deal. Obviously this was a total load of bullshit, but this is why she liked Violet so much, because she was just as much about fucking douchebags like him over as she was.

She was extra grateful for the solitude as she rehashed what had happened the night before with Trixie, remembering the sad acceptance on her face and the way she clung to Katya’s hand as her and Bunny said goodbye at the door like she didn’t want to let her go. And Katya knew then that she didn’t want to let her go either.

Not that she wanted to stay in that shithole town, but that she desperately wanted what she could never have, mainly an amazing woman who actually understood her and cared about her. Instead she had a 300 dollar bottle of champagne going flat and untouched in an ice bucket next to her and her cell phone flooded with text messages from clients demanding her attention after her not being immediately accessible for only two days.

She took a look at all those selfish assholes, not one of them asking exactly why she’d been incommunicado and instead caring only about their own needs and felt a deep hatred of every single one of them. If it hadn’t been for the fact that she’d given Trixie her number and told her to please text her anytime she would have thrown her phone into the melted ice water in the bucket and not thought another thing about it.

This despondent mood followed her for days after, especially when she got no word from Trixie. But why should she? Didn’t Katya break her heart by leading her on like she did, something that with each passing day she felt more and more guilty over. How dare she indulge her fucked up attachment style by playing with that girl’s heart. She was just as selfish and cruel as everyone else she dealt with, only concerned for her own personal gain.

It was that guilt that drove her to find something she could do to make it up to Trixie. She tried to call around and find a record label representative who might go see Trixie perform, but each one laughed like she was playing a prank on them when she’d asked if they wanted to go out to Buttfucknowhereville to see this girl with little to no online presence sing sad country music. Each time Katya would scream at them, calling them pathetic idiots who wouldn’t know a good thing if it came up and ass fucked them from behind. So she fell back on the only things she thought she could offer, money and influence, and came up with a plan.

She was pretty proud of what she’d devised and had called Trixie that night to share it with her. As she explained that she wanted to set Trixie up with an apartment in LA and proper recording equipment and had arranged for some smaller venues around WeHo for her to play in, she’d felt actual excitement, believing that she was doing something amazing that might take away from the guilt she felt at how she’d treated her. But Trixie did not agree.

“So let me get this straight. You finally call me after days of not answering my texts-”

“Wait, you’ve been texting me?! I haven’t seen….” She looked through her text messages and realized that she had been but it was buried under all of the assholes who were constantly texting her demanding things from her.

“And then you tell me you want to what, be my sugar daddy? That’s what you have to offer me?”

“That’s not it at all! I know how hard you’ve been working to get out of there and to have the things you need to succeed and-”

“That’s right, I do work hard. And you know why? Because I don’t want to owe anyone anything. That way I know not only did I make it because of my hard work but because every step of the way I was being true to myself and not compromising any of my integrity by having you support me like I’m unable to take care of myself. Because that’s what I do, Katya. I take care of myself and am beholden to no one. After all, people always let you down, don’t they?”

This cut so deeply that it felt like an actual knife stabbing into Katya’s chest. She finally saw the unintentional implications of what she’d been offering, that despite her motivation to help she was once again using her money and her power to manipulate someone into staying close to her. And that she was doing it to the one person she’d met who didn’t demand any of that from her.

“I’m… I’m sorry. You’re right. I just thought-”

“What, that you’d throw the pathetically desperate girl in your shitty home town a bone because you had some fun with me?”

“Oh my god, no, Trixie, not at all! The time I spent with you, it… it was the most….”

She cursed her inability to actually say the right thing, to express how she felt, to be able to let Trixie know how important she was, how special. How she already felt like she was falling in love with her. Instead she had nothing, no words to tell her this, her mouth opening and closing uselessly.

“Okay, I’m gonna go.” Trixie said and Katya could hear the tears in her voice. “Please don’t contact me again.”

“Trixie, I-”

“She’s gone, you fucking idiot.” Violet said over the intercom.

“For fucksake, Violet!”

“You’re pathetic, you know that right? You just out there devastating innocent farm girls?”

“That’s not what happened! She’s so… she’s so…. And I feel so... And I don’t know how to... Fuck!  I have no fucking clue!”

“Finally she says something true! Alert the presses, we have our next clickbait! Ice cold bitch Katya Zamolodchikova feels things!!”

“Katherine.”

“What?”

“My name. It’s… it’s Katherine.”

“And Zamolodchikova?”

“My piece of shit father’s last name. It was either that or del Rio, but considering I’m the whitest looking motherfucker, Russian made more sense.”

Violet didn’t answer and she felt this crushing sense of disappointment at herself and all of her limitations and weaknesses. Her office door opened though, and there Violet was, looking like a fetish drawing come to life, her frozen bitch face having a twinkle of something real in it.

“Well, Katherine del Rio, nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, thanks for that.” Katya said miserably as she buried her face in her hands while Violet dragged a chair over to sit next to her.

“This girl, this Trixie. You really like her, don’t you?” Violet’s voice was soft in a way she’d only heard once before when she'd caught her talking to her boyfriend Kade on the phone.

“Oh god, I do. I like her very much. In fact, I might even be, you know….”

“No, I don’t know. Not until you tell me.”

“But I can’t. You know I can’t.”

“Won’t. Not can’t.” Violet leaned forward to pull her hands away from her face so she could look her in the eyes. “Just say it. I know the words are in your brain.”

“I think… I think I’m… fuck, why is this always so hard?"

She thought about the look on her Ma’s face when she was saying her vows to Adore, her sarcastic humour mixing in with true emotions, telling her all these sweet things in a way Katya had never thought possible for Bianca.

If she can do it, then I can too.

“I’m in love. With Trixie.”

“Then you know what you have to do.”

“If you’re suggesting I should, like, move back to my shitty hometown just to be with her…”

“God, no. That’s a fucking nightmare.”

“The thing is? I would. I would leave all of this, I would endure that place, just so I could be close to her, to be able to see her everyday. Because I fucking hate it here, as much as I love her. I hate Los Angeles and I hate all these assholes who use me.”

“Yeah, but there are other places. Nice places. Places that still have Uber and Postmates. Places like Nashville, where a very talented country singer would have a chance to show the world how good she is. And, Mary, this girl? She is good. Very good.”

“You found her Tiktok?”

“Yup, including her latest one, which I think you need to watch.” Violet said, then with an air of cool mystique looking like she’d never shown any genuine emotion, she got up and left the room.

Katya’s hands were shaking when she picked her phone back up and went on Tiktok to look at the only account she was following, Trixie’s own. It was that pretty girl on stage, her face and her voice so sad, singing a heartbreaking cover of Dolly Parton’s I Will Always Love You, sounding so sweet, all of her emotions out there for the world to see. Once again, Katya was struck by how brave she was, how unafraid of what anyone thought of her she could be, and willing to show the world her heart, broken or otherwise.

When she was flying economy with two layovers and a delay in Cleveland that lasted nine hours, she realized just how much she did love this girl, and that even flying back to see her, to tell her, it was probably selfish too, but nothing could keep those words in her anymore, not after she finally found her real voice.

It of course had not prepared her for the emotional vulnerability that was going to be required of her to do it, especially not when she realized that she was going to have to do so in the middle of the Saloon with Val and Cody and Irina and Maggie-Moo and the tiger guy and that bitch Diane who was always shoving cake into her mouth watching. But she knew she had to apologize to Trixie as soon as possible for being so assumptive and, as she could admit now, condescending of her ability to take care of herself. And then maybe, just maybe, if she was able to she could tell her how she felt. About how she’d finally texted JR and told her it was over, that she’d met an amazing woman and hoped she could live up to what that woman deserved.

Trixie was on stage, singing that song that was Katya’s favorite, the one that grabbed her the first night she was there, about the joy and the pain of living in a small town. There was little joy in her face that night though, and Katya could tell by the slightly swollen red eyes and dark circles under them that Trixie was as miserable as she was.

She was going to wait until she was off stage to talk to her, but suddenly Bianca was there with Bunny and Adore behind her looking furious.

“Miss Thing, you need to get the fuck out of here.” Bunny said. “You’re not welcome, not after how you treated Trixie. She’s too good and too pure for that.”

“You’re right, she is.” She let it all out then, feeling tears already forming in her eyes. “I know I don’t deserve her. And I know I don’t deserve forgiveness for leading her on and then making assumptions about her path. But I…. I love her. I love her so much. And I need her to know that.”

“So she can what? Wait around here while you fuck brainless actresses?” Bunny said, her voice like ice.

“No. For her to know that I’m going to try with every single part of me to make up for what I did not by controlling or directing her path, but by trying to show her through my own messed up ways exactly how much I love her. And trying every single day to deserve someone as good and pure and wonderful and beautiful and gifted and just, just…. She’s it, you guys. She’s it. And if she doesn't want me, then I’ll go. But I have to try, no matter how scared that makes me.”

Adore’s face lost its anger as Bunny’s brow slowly unfurrowed and she eased out of her defensive mama bear posturing. But it was her Ma who stepped forward to cup Katya’s cheek and smile proudly at her.

“You’re braver than I thought, kid. Go get your girl.”

As she slowly weaved her way through the crowd towards the stage, Katya felt more scared than she had ever been. More than when those girls attacked her at the bus stop for just being herself. More than when she would actually share something real about herself to some shallow idiot in LA who would end up mocking her for it. More than when she’d realized she might actually lose her Ma to some stranger even though she’d spent over a decade pushing her away.

Trixie was just finishing her song when she saw Katya there in the crowd. Though god knew Katya didn’t deserve it, the way Trixie's face lit up for that first brief moment, before all that upset came crashing back, Katya hoped that was a sign that maybe she might have even the smallest chance of being forgiven.

Everyone in the Saloon, obviously all clued in via the town’s gossip mill, went completely silent when they realized Katya was there, that her and Trixie were locked in a silent gaze, that Katya was waiting for the chance to speak.

“What is it, Katya?” Trixie asked, her voice as tired as she looked.

“I just… I came to tell you…” She harshly rubbed her hand over her face, so frustrated by her inabilities, then looked Trixie in the eyes.  “I’m sorry. It was wrong of me. One of the things about you I admire the most is your tenacity and your determination, and me making those suggestions, I undermined all of that.”

“You sure did.” Trixie said, her breaths rapid with emotion.

“Okay. I just wanted to make sure you knew that. That I was wrong for questioning any of those things about you, especially when they’re such a big part of why I-”

She stopped then, scared of the reception this ultimate disclosure would get. But looking at Trixie, seeing this need blossom over her face, like she was searching for something, Katya knew this was the moment, that she had to put it all out there no matter how scared it made her.

“Why I… Why I love you. Because I do. I love you. So much. More than I ever thought I was capable of. But it’s true, it’s all in me and it’s all real and it’s all, Trixie, it’s all for you.”

It wasn’t exactly the most eloquent and Jane Austen-esque way of declaring it, but it was all she had, the only words she had to tell her exactly how she felt. Then she waited, feeling like everything in her life hung in the balance of Trixie’s response.

She watched as Trixie’s chin started to wobble, as tears filled those pretty brown eyes, it all a slow, horrible torture to just stand there, to not go to her, wipe those tears away and hold her until there was no more sadness in her. Instead she waited, fists clenched as her own cheeks were wet with tears, everything in her out there for everyone to see.

And then, like a benevolent and forgiving god bathed in light and exuding grace and acceptance, Trixie reached out a hand.

“I forgive you. And I… I love you too.”

Nothing could have stopped Katya from scrambling onto that stage, from taking that offered hand and pulling Trixie to her and kissing her, the taste of their combined tears mixing in with all the love she could feel pouring into her very soul from Trixie. And then she couldn’t help it, so full of pure joy and happiness for the first time ever, she wrapped her girl up tight in her arms and picked her up, spinning her around as she giggled into Katya’s neck while everyone in the bar clapped and cheered.

When she put her down again, Trixie’s face was shining with that same joy and happiness, and imagine Katya being the one to do that, of being able to do that for the woman she loved. She cupped Katya’s face in her hands, waiting for quiet to descend again, then in her beautiful, clear voice sang to her.

“If you’re lost, you can look, and you will find me, time after time. If you fall, I will catch you, I will be waiting, time after time.”

It turned out that Cody and all his shrewd business acumen knew to get this moment recorded on his phone and on the Saloon’s Instagram account, with of course Trixie’s profile tagged. And apparently the combo of lesbian love and small town charm and Katya’s notorious bitchiness being melted away and Trixie’s beautiful voice was enough to capture the algorithm and the video went viral. Within days, all of the songs Trixie had on Spotify were getting hundred of thousands of plays, her TikTok account gathering a quarter of a million followers, her Instagram flooded with messages from small town queers thanking her for her songs helping them feel heard. Then, without any help from Katya, Trixie was offered a record deal, was being flown out to Nashville to record it and given a hefty advance, enough for her to get a place there.

In those first hazy days of being together though, it all seemed very far away, when it was only about the two of them, Katya feeling everything in her breaking open through the love she had for her girl, and finally feeling truly loved in return. By the time they both floated back to this wonderful reality, many plans had been made. Bunny was insisting on being Trixie’s manager, something Katya said was an excellent idea considering no one was as cut-throat as she used to be than Bunny and her intense mama bear energy. Trixie wanted Adore to play guitar for her, and Katya finally got to witness how correct her mother had been about how talented of a performer she ended up being. And then Bianca said anywhere her wife goes she follows, so here they all were flying on the private plane JR had paid for in a doomed attempt to win Katya back, not as a girlfriend of course, but as the agent who made things happen for her.

While Bunny and Bianca and Adore sat together making plans, Katya took Trixie into the bedroom in the back, insisting they join the mile high club, making Trixie let out that bird laugh Katya loved so much. After Trixie had once again rocked Katya’s entire world with more of the best sex she'd ever had, they’d curled up together in what was becoming Katya’s favorite part of their intimacy, these quiet cuddles where she got to hold her girl close and know, just know, she was loved.

“What are you gonna do now that you’re not an agent anymore?” Trixie asked, knowing that Katya had started telling her clients that she was moving on.

“I don’t know. Is there an opening as your personal assistant?”

“Really? That’s what you wanna do?”

“I wanna be with my beautiful girl as much as possible. Including making sure she has all she needs to shine.”

“You already do that, Mama.” Trixie answered, calling her the pet name that made Katya so hot and so mushy at the same time.

“Then what more do I need in life?”

“A profession might help.”

“Well, an old friend in publishing may or may not have offered me a book deal. A tell all. Not an outing, mind you, but talking about Hollywood’s insistence at keeping gay people’s truth hidden.”

“I think that’s it. I think that’s what you need to do.”

Katya knew how miserable so many of her gay clients had been because they wanted to be true to themselves but knew how studios could punish you for that.

“You’re right, baby. I owe it to them after being complicit in it for so long. It’s what I can do to try and make it right.”

Trixie turned Katya’s face up to hers to kiss her, eyes sparkling with tears.

“Have I told you how brave you are?”  Trixie asked.

“Not in the last five minutes, no.”

“My bad, then. Because you are. And I love you so much because of it.”

“I learned from the best.” Katya said, and kissed her girl over and over while the sound of their families laughing quietly in the distance drifted in. “And I love you too, baby. You changed my whole world. You showed me what courage was. And I will always, always be grateful to you for that.”

“You okay with sharing me with the world now?”

“The world needs more people like you, honest and good and true and just a tiny bit of an asshole.”

“I learned from the best, Mama.”