This wouldn't be Ariel's first dip into the wonderful world of Splash on drag karaoke night. He actually went pretty often - often enough that the queens who came regularly knew him and doted on him. They liked to pinch his cheeks and fawn over his apparently adorable dress, and he liked the sing, so it worked out well, really. Tonight though he was being accompanied and he was happy about that. A little friendly competition was always appreciated by someone like Ariel.
He stood waiting for Rolan, leaning against the old brick facade. Men and women paraded in, some teetering on heels or with multicolored feathers sprouting from their hair. Glitter was everywhere. He smiled at those he knew and distractedly flattened his hair as it shined on his head, when he saw something he'd never seen before in Chelsea - at least, never seen without irony: a cowboy. Ariel grinned. Boots, black jeans. Yep. That was him.
Pushing himself from the wall, the older boy approached Rolan. He himself had put a nice navy, toggled peacoat over his lobster cardigan (seriously), blue gingham oxford, and gray bowtie. They made quite the pair.
"Howdy," he said by way of greeting, smiling up at the tall boy, stepping out of the way as a train of men in drag passed them, in a hurry to get out of the cold. Fishnets weren't very good when it came to keeping warm. Ariel followed them inside with his eyes, then turned back to the country boy. "Ready?"