Work Text:
Lydia stared at her phone screen like it had personally offended her.
She’d gotten it back a few hours ago, once she was eliminated. She’d sent a few texts to friends back in Pittsburgh, called her parents, let everyone that needed to know that she was coming home.
It was surreal. She hated that her run on Drag Race had ended the way it had. She was pretty sure she would never be able to bring herself to touch a pair of scissors again. On the other hand, she was so incredibly proud to have done as well as she had. Seventeen year old Lydia on Drag Showdown would freak if she could see herself now. She hoped the audience would like her. She hoped she would stay close with her Season 17 sisters.
Which brings us back to Lydia glaring at her phone. Yes, full on glaring. Like, a level of frustration usually seen on the face of someone who just got blue shelled in Mario Kart. Well, at least before they throw the controller at the TV and cause bodily harm to the person who sent it their way.
The Instagram search bar stared back at her, unperturbed by the turmoil inside Lydia’s head. Her thumbs hovered over the keyboard, frozen with nerves. A kid sitting next to her at the gate started screaming, making her jump.
You’re being stupid, just do it. It’s literally not a big deal. Lydia shook herself and typed “kori king” into the search. Right away, there she was. Lydia clicked on the profile, heart racing. The pictures loaded, shamelessly displaying Kori's life before Drag Race. Photoshoots, imported TikToks, videos of her and her fellow Boston queens messing around. A surprisingly well done Boulet Brothers costume. Lydia bit her lip, wondering if they could capture what they felt for each other in the real world. Was there a place for her in Kori’s life outside of the competition? Would Kori ever include her in a photodump or dumb little video?
Her heart beat a little faster with every post she looked at. Kori was radiant. It was clear she loved what she did, that she had so much fun doing it. Lydia’s face felt hot. She went back to the top of the profile, the “Message” button calling her attention like a neon sign. She clicked it, being taken to an empty DM.
After about ten minutes of typing and erasing, she settled on a simple message asking if Kori would like to catch up soon. She pressed send and turned her phone off, shoving it in her backpack so aggressively she earned a sideways glance from the old man to her left.
A few minutes later, her boarding group was called. She shuffled onto the plane with seemingly countless others. Seriously, how many people could possibly want to go to Pittsburgh tonight? She slumped into her seat with a tired sigh. She was emotionally exhausted, but also physically. She felt like she hadn’t had a moment of peace since she arrived in LA for shooting. Every waking moment had been consumed with stress. She didn’t particularly want to take a flight when she was so tired, especially one evidently filled with babies. It sounded like a daycare in there. They hadn’t even finished boarding yet. She shut her eyes and leaned her head back, jaw tight. This was going to be a long flight. At least production had gotten her a window seat.
~~
Lydia cracked her neck as she stood in arrivals waiting to be picked up. Her frankly absurd amount of bags surrounded her, soliciting many odd looks. She couldn’t muster the energy to care. It was nearing 2am in Pittsburgh. The cold night air felt vaguely intrusive in a way Lydia couldn’t quite explain. She could faintly see the lights of the city she’d grown up in. Her skin buzzed with a feeling that nothing would be the same again. A piece of her heart had been taken to Boston, cradled in the hands of a certain Kori King.
She pulled out her phone for the umpteenth time since landing. A text from her mom saying she was about 10 minutes away, some spam emails, and an Apple News: Healthy Living notification. Nothing from Kori. Which was fine. Totally, completely, unequivocally, fine. She definitely hadn’t spent the whole flight freaking out about what Kori might say back. Her thumb was bitten to bleeding for other reasons. Yup.
Lydia adjusted the strap of her backpack. It was late. Kori was in this timezone too. It was definitely time to be asleep. She would probably hear from her in the morning.
Her mom arrived, engulfing her in a hug. She breathed in the familiar scent of her mom’s perfume, tears welling in her eyes. She hadn’t realised how badly she’d missed her. She loaded her bags into the car and slid into the passenger seat. A homemade muffin sat on the dash in front of her, her favourite. A small, tired smile broke across her face. Quietly thanking her mom, she ate the muffin and dozed off.
~~
Lydia’s mom dropped her off with the promise of taking her out to dinner tomorrow night (tonight? Who cares). Dumping her bags in the living room, she stumbled to her room and collapsed on her bed.
The comforting scent of her pinewood air freshener hit her nose. She let out a soft huff. Finally she was home. If she saw a baby in the next 72 hours, she would lose it.
She was on the verge of falling asleep when her phone dinged. She groggily picked it up, squinting against the brightness.
[foreheadbrows] koriking
i would love that!! whats youre number?
Her heart tripped on the starting block before starting a marathon. The use of the wrong your should’ve put her off, but it only endeared Lydia further. Her face was burning. Her smile was so big her cheeks hurt. After rereading the message, she let out a very undignified squeal.
Her time on Drag Race may have ended, but her and Kori? They were just getting started.