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Olly fidgeted in the back of Nick's Mini, watching Charlie drumming on the dashboard as Isaac sat next to him, reading. Fifteen was both too old and too young to be hanging out with his brother and friends at Pride, but Jane had been adamant that he couldn't attend without a chaperone. In an effort not to make the same mistakes with her third child she'd made with her first two, she'd instead stumbled on brand new ones. Her overprotective instincts hadn't been eliminated, but he had to admit that going with Charlie was better than any of the alternatives.
“Look! A tractor!” said Charlie, pointing out a window. “You looooove tractors!”
“When I was eight,” grumbled Olly. “I don't know if you noticed, but I'm not a little kid anymore.”
“You'll always be my bitty baby brother,” said Charlie.
“Even when I'm taller than you?” said Olly.
“Blasphemy!”
“So have you settled on your A levels yet?” asked Nick, his teacher mode kicking in.
“Yeah, I think so. I was thinking Mathematics, Physics, Design and Technology, and probably Spanish.”
“I'm sure Mum is thrilled with that,” said Charlie.
“Well, since she can't object on the subjects she's decided to fret that I'm doing too much. She tried to talk me out of Physics until I pointed out that basically every worthwhile engineering program will expect it.”
“Neeerrrrd,” teased Charlie.
Isaac looked up from his book. “Because Latin and Classical Studies weren't nerdy in the slightest.”
“And head boys are notoriously cool,” said Nick.
“Hey! You thought I was cool!” said Charlie.
“Yeah, but that's because I had a crush on you,” said Nick.
“You still do,” Charlie said with a sappy smile.
“Ewwww,” said Olly. “You two are disgusting.”
“They really are,” said Isaac. “Unfortunately, I'm increasingly doubtful they will ever grow out of it.”
“What happened to believing in romance?” asked Charlie.
“I prefer it in text form,” said Isaac.
Olly snickered, and felt himself relaxing. When the song changed to Dancing Queen, he let himself join in and let go of the last of his tension. He was here to celebrate queer joy with his family and friends and maybe find a hot guy to make out with.
The rest of the drive flew by, and Nick pulled them into the car park, the tiny Mini making it possible for them to take a spot between two cars that seemed to have missed the part of their driving lessons about staying between the lines. They piled out, Olly trying not to bounce with excitement as he looked around at all the rainbow flags and glitter and gorgeous half-dressed humans. The sheer joy and colour was almost overwhelming. Isaac patted his shoulder. “It's a lot, isn't it?”
Olly nodded.
Nick and Charlie were already making disgusting mushy faces at each other, as if their PDA knob had been turned up to 11. Or possibly 100, given how affectionate they usually were. Isaac raised an eyebrow as he made eye contact with Olly, and tilted his head in a different direction than the lovebirds were going.
“You don't have to babysit me,” protested Olly.
“I'm not. I'm sharing some of my favourite things about Pride with someone who might actually pay attention and enjoy them with me. Come on, the drag stage is over this way,” said Isaac.
Drag? Olly had watched Drag Race, but he'd never been to a live show, being too young for pubs and clubs, even in the unlikely event that his mum would let him out of the house to actually have fun on a weekend instead of visiting Grandmother Driscoll.
“That sounds fun!”
Isaac led them through the press of people towards a side street stage, with a sign that promised shows at 1, 3, 5 and an “adult” show at 8. They slid into a pair of open seats near the front, Isaac slipping a pair of earplugs in. Olly wiggled in his seat, excited to see the real thing.
A fabulous person came out in a hot pink dress with a poofy skirt and an enormous bouffant wig, their makeup making their eyes look extra large. “Hello, all you beautiful people with nothing better to do on a Saturday afternoon than listen to my nonsense! I'm Miss Bitty Bitches, and I will be your emcee. Who's excited for Pride?!”
A cheer went up from the audience.
“Do we have any virgins in the audience?” she asked, waggling her exaggerated eyebrows. Isaac grabbed Olly's hand and held it up.
“Isaac!” hissed Olly. “Nobody needs to know that!”
“It just means that you've never been to a live show before,” said Isaac.
“Oh.” Olly still pulled his hands down and paid attention to the stage again.
“Even when politicians and right wing crazies are trying to legislate us out of existence, let's remember Pride is a protest! First on the stage, we have one of our spiciest queens, Vinda Loo!”
For the next 45 minutes, Olly sat transfixed by glitter and makeup and lip syncing and joy. He laughed at the puns, and oohed at the death drops and was in awe of the costumes. But when one queen came out in a more subdued outfit and a real microphone, crooning Nina Simone’s “Feeling Good”, Olly was struck with an epiphany. He wanted to be up there, performing. He wasn't the comedic type, or the fierce vogue queens, but this? He felt like he'd seen colour for the first time.
He sat with Isaac, lingering as most of the crowd left, a few staying to talk to the queens standing by the stage with their tip jars.
“So what did you think of the show?” asked Isaac, watching Olly stare open mouthed at Miss Bitty.
“I have never seen anything more magical in my life,” gushed Olly.
“Glad you enjoyed it, babe.” Isaac smiled to himself. It was always nice to be right about people. He'd see Olly on that stage soon enough.