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MT groaned as Sashay half guided, half herded Jesse, Alan Dracula (and technically Perry), and her into a backstage area overbrimming with costume racks and boxes.
“Hurry, hurry! The judges await! You’re on soon, Darlings!”
Sashay strutted away with a level of elegance and confidence that MT didn’t think was possible. MT looked at Alan Dracula... and Perry? Alan Dracula plus Perry? Perry Dracula? (MT wasn’t sure how to think about that whole… situation, and she still wasn’t sure she liked it either.) Either way, Alan Dracula with Perry walked with head held high towards a curtained off area.
In that loud, gratingly bright voice MT hadn’t yet grown accustomed to, Perry said, “Me and my good pal Alan D here need space to ourselves to get ready. You don’t mind! You get it, right? Right! Knew you two'd understand.”
Without another word and without waiting for a response, MT’s friend and new acquaintance disappeared behind the velvet curtain. Occasional garments were chucked over the side, but other than that, MT couldn’t see much.
She frowned slightly at the fact Perry had insisted on taking up so much space, leaving only a fraction of the backstage area for her and Jesse to get ready in.
I cannot believe I have to do this to get through this stupid car. Does this train hate me?
MT grimaced at the rack of clothing Jesse was hastily digging through–none of it looked like her style. MT glanced at a box of wigs on the ground, each wig carefully folded and protected in a hairnet; she began to rummage through the box, cringing as she did so. If MT had wanted long hair, she wouldn’t have buzzed her own off on the wheels of a giant, terrifying train the first chance she got.
This is so stupid! This shouldn't even bother me. None of these wigs look like Tulip’s hair, this should be FINE.
But it wasn’t fine. It really wasn't. For reasons MT couldn’t quite explain, the very idea of wearing any of the shiny, perfectly maintained, beautiful wigs made her skin crawl. The idea just seemed… just not her. She forced herself to shrug off the feeling prickling beneath her metal skin as she abandoned the wigs entirely to dig through the clothing rack alongside Jesse. His dopey grin had grown on her and usually lifted her spirits a little.
Jesse stood combing through the dresses and matching sets, stopping to feel the various fabric textures. He ran his fingers across a skirt made of velvet and immediately cringed, pushing it aside with haste. But he didn’t seem all that upset by the idea of getting dressed up itself. In fact, he looked rather excited about the ordeal.
He glanced at MT with a sheepish grin. He held up a bright yellow dress featuring lots of silver glitter and enormous puff sleeves.
“Do you think this will work? I think my shoulders are too big.”
MT sighed, took one look at it, and agreed, “You’re definitely gonna rip that. That looks too small for me.”
“Aw, man, I guess you’re right.”
But Jesse’s apparent disappointment was short-lived because he quickly found another dress and pulled it off the rack. This one was bright blue with ruffle detailing and no sleeves at all. MT could tell as Jesse carefully felt the fabric that it was soft and looked pretty breathable. After finishing his fabric inspection, he began to unzip the back and look for the sizing tag.
“What about this one? Oh, man, this is so fun! Do you think this matches my vibe?”
“...I don’t really know why you’re asking me. I don’t really know about all this kinda stuff. I mean—I think so?”
Jesse paused for a moment, glancing down.
“Huh… I guess you’re right. I hadn’t thought about it, but this is like… way outside of anything I’ve done before.”
His voice softened as he looked away from MT and the dress in his hands and muttered, “It’s a good thing my friends aren’t here.”
MT winced but reassured with a firm voice, “Who cares what those losers would think? They suck, Jesse. Besides, they’re just jealous they can’t rock a look like you can anyways.”
“I know they suck, but… hm… maybe we can get out of this.”
MT frowned at Jesse’s dimming excitement—just because she was miserable didn’t mean Jesse had to be. She placed her hand on his shoulder and squeezed a little—hopefully not enough to hurt the weird human muscles she didn’t have. She wasn't used to this whole comforting people thing, so she really hoped she was doing it right.
Jesse’s cheeks reddened and so did MT’s, but she stayed firm as she said, “C’mon. It’s gonna be fine. They’re not here. And even if they were, whatever. Again–they’re total losers. You deserve way better friends than that.”
Jesse nodded then and smiled at MT in such a way that warmed her from head to toe; it was a smile that seemed to make everything brighter. She wasn’t used to feeling this way. She wasn’t even sure what to do with it.
Jesse admitted, “You’re right, you’re right. Again.”
Dress thrown over his shoulder, he hastily went to the wigs MT had been digging through and asked, “Hey, do you think I'd make a good blonde?”
MT snorted, but at least one of them was genuinely excited about this whole dressing up thing. And judging by the bright but annoying chattering coming from the curtained off area dominated by Perry and Alan Dracula, Jesse wasn’t the only one. MT wished she could say the same, but a tight ball of dread still weighed her down her at the thought of all this. She stared at the ground, closing her eyes and hoping the writhing of her stomach would just stop.
Noticing her silence, Jesse paused his quest for the best blond wig.
“Hey, what’s wrong? There’s no mirrors back here, and I didn’t see any reflective fabric. I checked! So… what’s up with you?”
He checked? I didn’t even realize he did that. Does he always look for reflections in new cars?
Of course MT had done a scan as soon as she’d entered the car and as soon as they’d moved backstage—it was the first thing she did in any new place. But she hadn’t realized Jesse had started doing it too.
But she couldn’t think about that now because Sashay’s voice reminded from the other side of the curtain, “Hurry, hurry, the crowd is simply dying to meet you all, Darlings!”
Lying through his teeth, Jesse hastily called from backstage, “Almost! Almost! Just give us a couple more minutes!”
Jesse turned again to MT and asked, “Have you not found anything?”
MT hesitated. How could she explain that the idea of wearing any of the sparkly, glittery dresses made her sick to her stomach? How could she explain that to him that the image of herself with long hair again made her want to rip what little hair was left out of her scalp? How could she explain the way her skin prickled and crawled at the thought of wearing any of the clothing she was surrounded by? How could she explain that being in this place backstage, being in this glitzy, glamorous car, made her feel painfully aware of herself and her body in a way she couldn’t quite explain out loud? All she could think of to describe it was intense discomfort, an ache that wouldn't stop, a profound feeling of wrongness.
Jesse placed his hand on her shoulder and offered, “Hey, c’mon. Let me help. Is it—”
Jesse’s voice trailed off, as if he had changed his mind about whatever he was going to say.
MT snapped, her voice harsher and more annoyed than she intended, “Is it what?”
Jesse asked softly, looking unusually uncertain as he gave MT’s shoulder a gentle squeeze, “Was this something like Tulip would be into? Or is this the kind of clothes here her style?"
MT groaned and answered, “No… no, it’s not that. Tulip wasn’t really into fashion or anything like that. All she cared about was that her clothes were comfortable, not much else. It’s just—it’s stupid. I can’t explain it.”
“You could try?” Jesse offered, turning his head to the side in a way that vaguely reminded MT of a puppy. Annoyingly, she found it more endearing than anything else.
MT hesitated. She stared at her own image reflected in the palm of her hand. It was both something comforting and something that made it worse. Her stomach still churned and made her feel as nauseous as reflecting in the pens on chains had. But she didn’t have time to hesitate.
MT managed, “I–I don’t know what it is. But this whole thing makes me sick. I just—it’s just so stupid! Sometimes it’s like the train is trying to put us through cars that suck for me specifically! Just—wearing all this stuff doesn’t feel like me. I mean… sure, it’s not Tulip, but… I don’t know. Just because it’s not Tulip doesn’t make it me either.”
Jesse squeezed her shoulder again and said with an endearing level of confidence, “Well, we’ll just have to find something that doesn’t suck too hard for you. And listen, you can dress up over your clothes! That way you can still look like my good friend MT.”
MT raised an eyebrow and asked, “Are we sure the judges won’t get annoyed and turn into flaming monsters or something over that? Won’t that look lame?”
“Well–I don’t know, I guess they could technically turn into flaming monsters. But, they also could be the non-scary kind of denizens. And even if the judges do get mad if you do it wrong, it’s not like you have anything to worry about. You dress so cool already, it’s gotta be fine! I’ll match with you and wear my clothes underneath too! A dress with jeans is very chic.”
“It is not.”
Jesse bumped her shoulder against his and said, “Is too! I’m trendsetting. You just don't see my creative vision.”
His voice softened as he assured, “Look, I don't really understand exactly what's going on with you. But just because I think this is fun doesn’t mean you have to. You’re my friend, MT. C’mon, we’ll find something.”
MT nodded and at another, less patient prod from Sashay, she began to dig through clothing even faster. Jesse was looking through wigs on her behalf, occasionally talking to himself more than MT as he did so. She didn’t listen in as she groaned at how uncomfortable everything looked. If she wore a long skirt or dress like Jesse had pulled out for himself, she thought she may just fall over—what if the flecs found her? She couldn’t run in something so impractical!
Her misery was interrupted by a triumphant shout from her friend.
“Aha! MT, c’mere!”
MT only dragged her feet a bit as she made her way to Jesse.
He held up a wig and said with a grin, “What about this? You can look like Miku!”
MT frowned at the synthetic, bright turquoise wig styled in two ponytails as Jesse held it out for her.
When she didn’t say anything, Jesse asked, “Wait—you do know who Hatsune Miku is, right?”
MT scoffed and said exasperatedly, “Of course I do, Tulip used the internet. Fine, fine, just give it here, I don’t have time to be picky.”
Instead of simply handing it over, Jesse carefully helped place the wig on her head. Which MT was not a fan of. At all. But she persisted, and things seemed a bit better with Jesse there. He hummed an unfamiliar tune as he adjusted the bangs and ponytails of the wig.
“I look ridiculous,” MT complained as she glanced at herself reflected in her hand.
“Who cares? Who says you can’t just have fun with it? You know, Sashay didn’t say a thing about having to take this seriously.”
“I guess… huh. Yeah. I guess not.”
Jesse’s face cracked into a smile as he suggested, “So maybe it’ll help if you don’t take it so serious? I don’t know—if everything you're wearing is all over the top and bright, of course it’s not your style. But at least it’s a little more fun?”
MT found an awkward, half-smile tugging at the corners of her lips at Jesse’s enthusiasm. Jesse once again bumped her shoulder, more enthusiastically this time, as they continued digging through clothes together.
MT muttered as they looked, “I don’t wanna wear anything that’ll cover my clothes too much.”
As if reading her thoughts, Jesse pulled out an absolutely ridiculous looking, hot pink tutu-looking skirt supported by bright pink suspenders. It poofed out to a ridiculous degree; non-reflective but glossy yellow and turquoise beads hung off it. MT snorted, but technically it was what she asked for: it wouldn’t cover much of her normal clothes.
“Seriously, Jesse?”
“The beads match your wig,” Jesse stated matter-of-factly, looking quite proud at that.
MT rolled her eyes but reluctantly took it from him, knowing she was short on time. It was just so ridiculously not MT that it almost felt like a costume. And at least it was also ridiculously not Tulip. She wasn’t sure who the hell would ever wear anything like this, but at least her torment would be over soon.
MT grumbled to herself as she pulled the skirt over her loose pants even though she was grateful for how Jesse was handling all this. She allowed Jesse to help her adjust the suspenders on the ridiculous skirt to get it to stay. MT couldn’t look him in the face; even with him at her side this sucked. The wig was already making her itch, and the brightly colored bangs kept falling into her eyes, and the skirt made her uneasy, and her nausea hadn't gotten better.
MT glanced at herself in her hand and groaned loudly. She looked like a different person.
Jesse, squinting his eyes and backing up, framing his fingers in such a way to look like he was photographing MT, frowned.
“There’s something missing,” he mumbled.
MT glowered and argued, “Can’t we be done already?”
“No, no, wait, I have an idea!” Jesse returned to the boxes and racks of clothing, rummaging with purpose.
He swiftly produced a tiny pair of pale, butter yellow angel wings covered in glitter.
“The finishing touch!” he said proudly.
MT snorted.
“Jesse, are you trying to make me look like a clown?”
This time Jesse was the one rolling his eyes, but his enthusiasm didn’t seem curbed. Reluctantly, MT allowed Jesse to help her put the stupid little wings on. Even if she was miserable, at least Jesse made her a lot less miserable. She wasn’t sure if she could’ve survived this stupid car and stupid fashion show without him.
Sashay’s voice cut in again as she called, her clacking heels indicating she was close, “You have two more minutes, Darlings! The judges are dying to see what you’ve come up with.”
Jesse and MT locked eyes, both wincing at the time slipping away. MT felt her cheeks heating with embarrassment—it was her fault. And with how the train went maybe those judges literally were dying. But at least Jesse wasn’t upset with her; he was far too busy frantically scrambling to get himself ready. He hadn't found a wig earlier and hastily grabbed one he'd just barely looked at before.
MT held his arm to stead him as she helped him wriggle into the dress he’d picked out. She forced her grip to not be too fierce as she zipped the back for him, hoping her shaky metal hands wouldn’t break the zipper. MT tried to help Jesse with his wig, but she hadn’t a clue what she was doing. In fact, she might have been making it worse. They didn’t have time to get Jesse’s wig to sit just right as Jesse had done for her. Okay, and maybe it had something to do with it being harder to put a wig on over hair so much longer than MT’s.
“Sorry for using up all our time,” MT muttered.
“It’s fine, MT. I’m still having fun, and we get to kind of match with our pants. Besides… Do you feel better?”
MT’s body still prickled with discomfort, and she still didn’t share the interest in this whole mess that Jesse had. Her lungs were tight, her stomach hurt, her skin was crawling, her scalp was itchy from the wig, and she felt absolutely ridiculous.
But at least she had Jesse. Jesse who really did seem like a real friend. Jesse who sang dumb songs until MT joined in. Jesse who was there for her even though he was on this train to deal with his own problems.
So, MT reluctantly admitted, “I guess a little. This still sucks though.”
Had she not been so miserable, MT might've laughed at Jesse's struggles to keep his wig on as he said, “Whatever it’s worth, I think you're cool. You’re like Miku but also a ballet dancer but also an angel but also my very cool metal travel friend.”
MT wanted to respond, wanted to compliment and reassure him back, she really did. Because even though Jesse’s words didn’t erase her misery and her discomfort and the way dressing this way made her feel alien, just knowing he cared meant a lot. She really wasn't used to people caring so much about her.
But Sashay appeared then, strutting towards them with grace and glamour that once again seemed impossible.
“You look divine, Darlings! Now, now, who wants to go first?”
Perry’s voice called “AD and I have a killer grand finale planned, make us last.”
MT’s heart seized with silent panic, but Jesse grabbed her hand and squeezed it gently. MT’s eyes widened at the gesture. It felt... different somehow than when he'd set a hand on her shoulder.
Is this… what having real friends is like?
Jesse hastily offered, “I’ll go first!”
His fingers slipped out of MT's. As he was ushered away by Sashay, Jesse looked over his shoulder and winked at his friend.
His voice called, “Gives you a couple more minutes to prepare!”
MT’s metal heart softened as he walked away from her, struggling to manage the awkward way the dress fell over his jeans. Tears sprung to the corners of MT’s eyes, but she immediately wiped them away.
Man... what are Alan Dracula and I gonna do when he gets his exit?