In his dressing room backstage at the Main Drag, Devin Elliot plugs in his hot curlers. As he waits for them to heat up, he studies his face in the mirror above his vanity table. At twenty, his skin has finally lost its oily adolescent sheen, but the naked bulbs that frame the mirror and mimic the stage lights give him a sallow appearance. At least he has make-up to counter the waxy glow. Sinking into the chair in front of the vanity, he pulls off the band that holds his ponytail back from his face and shakes his head to let his long, blonde hair fall free.
Someone knocks on his door. “I’m here!” he calls out, not bothering to get up. It must be Chuck, the Drag’s brute of a bouncer. At six foot two, he has arms as big around as Devin’s thighs, riddled with veins that stand out when he fle
