You and Andrew have been friends since 4th grade, you’ve been to every single of eachother birthday parties, events, track meets, band concerts, random hangouts.

In highschool, you were on the swim team while Andrew was in marching band, he played in the battery as the 3rd base drum. You always liked watching him play, especially in full uniform. You both admired each others capabilities, Andrew’s musicality, your own perseverance and stamina in the water, and through the years thicker tensions grew. Gazed lasted longer, less space between where you sat.

But you met a girl, as expected and asked constantly by your parents. Eliza, sweet and competent. Mostly honors classes and college courses over her summer break. She played water polo. Meant to be, maybe. You were highschool sweethearts, so you had to let the tension between you and Andrew go, without even knowing why or what it was. but you kept in touch, the occasional hangout, birthday message on Facebook or a text when something relevant occurred.

Specifically, your upcoming wedding. And Andrew was invited to both the celebration and bachelor party.

At this bachelor party before your marriage to Eliza, Andrew showed up in drag.

A slightly crooked strip lash, coral lipstick smudged slightly to the side, and his hair curled to whatever extent it could be. Purple eyeshadow painting his lids. A cheap feather boa around his elbows and a red dress.

The most beautiful ‘woman’ you’ve ever seen.

A funny gag really, nothing much else. But you couldn’t help but stare as the other , slightly tipsy, man flaunted himself. Strutting in a pair of not too tall heels that made him trip once or twice. And a dress that both fit, and didn’t. Unzipped in the back because it wouldn’t close.

“ hic am I lady material for you?”

Andrew said, brown eyes crescent shaped and creased as he leaned down over you, who was sitting in a chair. Wrapping his cheap dollar general feather boa around you teasingly.

“ do I make your heart point and set your loins afire?”

He said dramatically. His lipstick smudged in the corner. His lips moving but the words barely audible to you.

The dress fit tightly in all the right spots. Just like his old band uniform did. Kind of did, well. Fit enough.

“hic little Eliza has nothing on me…” Andrew muttered. A smug smirk on his face as he pushed the hair out of your face.

More drunk ramblings. More swaying of hips in a sarcastic manner.Your other friends laughed at the display, a great joke. An amazing joke. Spectacular. Knee slapper. Whatever.

But not a joke to you.

Not at all.

“ what’s wrong big boy…?”