A Mad Tea Party

He was broken from his musing by Abi producing a bottle of rosé and five plastic cups from somewhere.

"Well, girls, I think it's time for a pre-drink," Abi cheered as she unscrewed the cap and poured out five cups. James realised that he was very much included in this address, and wasn't even entirely sure if Abi was conscious of it. They each took a cup and sipped the fresh, but slightly warm wine.

Lucy and Steph were still yet to change. Steph was busy working on her own makeup, but Lucy now took her turn in the bathroom. The four chatted, Steph occasionally muttering a barely intelligible response as she tried to keep the fine brush steady near her mouth. After a short time, Lucy reappeared.

Lucy's transformation was almost as remarkable as James' own. Before, she was in a loose-fitting dress, but now she trotted out of the bathroom in a tight, corset bodysuit in shiny white satin that hugged every curve of her body, pushing her cleavage up into a magnificent bust. Her shoulders and arms were covered by a short, rich red jacket with gold buttons at the cuffs and a pocketwatch on a gold chain. Under the swimsuit-style bottom of the bodysuit was just a pair of white tights, a little less opaque than the ones James was wearing. A simple pair of black slip-on heels finished it off. Her makeup was heavy but elegant, with bold lashes and red lips matching her jacket. A large, fluffy bobtail perched above her buttocks confirmed that a pair of ears must be missing to complete her white rabbit costume. A chorus of whoops and a, "damn, girl!" from Steph welcomed her back.

Steph took a few more minutes to complete her own makeup, but her costume became obvious as soon as she turned around, if James hadn't already guessed. Her vivid pink and purple striped hair was now complemented by a large, Cheshire cat grin painted around her mouth, some green cat-eye contact lenses, and long, purple nails, pointed like claws. She quickly gathered the last remaining garment bag and whisked into the bathroom.

There were only a couple of minutes of admiring Lucy's outfit before Steph returned, her slender, athletic frame being shown off by a sleek, velvet catsuit with stripes matching the exact shades of striking pink and purple in her hair. The zip at the front was carefully positioned to show exactly the right amount of cleavage. The group cheered and whooped again, and as she obliged them with a spin, a long, very fluffy tail, ringed with the same pink and purple, swished from her waist. She retrieved a pair of pink stiletto heels, slipped them on, and struck one final pose.

The song playing on the portable speaker faded out. James wasn't sure if it was coincidence or Abi's meticulous playlist building as the song opened with the lyrics, "Let's go, girls."

Chapter 6

According to Abi, they still had just over half an hour before they needed to leave, but Lucy had already grabbed a hairbrush and started singing along to the song, shaking her fluffy white tail as she danced along with the others. They'd each only had a small plastic cup of rosé, but Lucy's energy was palpable. James thought that joining in seemed like the way to go. He wasn't entirely sure how, but before he had time to think about it, Lucy was grabbing his hand and pulling him up from the bed where he sat. Now focused on getting James into the spirit, she passed the hairbrush to Jas, who also clearly knew the lyrics by heart. Come to think of it, James was fairly sure he knew most of them too. He quickly improvised some moves. Dancing in heels took a little adjusting to, but before long he was getting the hang of it. Swishing the skirt around by moving his hips was, as it turns out, a lot of fun. Abi was doing a similar thing, although her skirt was a little more structured and flicked from side to side instead. Having sung a couple of lines, Jas passed the hairbrush mic to Steph, who then passed it to Abi. James certainly knew how the verse ended and had a feeling he knew what was coming. Sure enough, Abi sang the rest of the line and, with a mischievous glint in her eye, threw the improvised mic across the room to James, who, deciding that playing right into it was really the only way to go, held the hairbrush to his mouth, placed his other hand on his hip, and sang, "Man, I fe-el like a woman."

The group erupted in cheers and whoops, and they continued dancing and singing along for another couple of songs until Abi reminded them that they should actually finish getting ready. They sorted everyone's masks out of their respective bags. James had already seen Abi's mask, but its mock ruby detailing now really completed her outfit. She perched the golden crown on her head and fixed it securely into her hair. Finally, she added a necklace with a large, heart-shaped ruby and a large gold ring with a similar red gemstone.

Steph had one more addition to her outfit: a black leather collar with a gold tag hanging from the front. She placed it snugly around her neck and fastened the buckle at the back before adding her mask: pink, with cat-like ears at the top, glittery purple above the eyes, and detailed lines of sparkling silver and purple mock gemstones. Lucy finished hiding the ribbon away under her hair, and Steph turned to her, making a cat-like hissing sound and showing off her claw-like nails. The mask perfectly covered her eyes and nose, so all you could now see of her face was the painted grin around her mouth.

They switched, and Steph helped Lucy with hers once Lucy had finished adding her own neckwear: a crisp, white shirt collar with a deep red bow tie that matched her jacket. Her mask was white with similar glittery lines and gems, just covering her eyes and nose with the addition of some fine whiskers on the black nose. She also added some jaunty white satin bunny ears, the headband of which Steph also helped her hide underneath her hair.

Jas's mask was a little different: burnished gold with emerald touches and a long nose, curving downwards to below her mouth in a dramatic, carnival style. She offset it with some bright, lime-green lace-up work boots, and finally, the much-anticipated headwear: a top hat in rich, smokey purple velvet with a green ribbon tied around it. Sure enough, tucked into the ribbon was a card with "10/6" written on it in large, cursive calligraphy. The finished look presented her slim and delicate frame in a zany riot of colour and eccentricity.

That just left James's mask. Abi produced a powder blue mask covering just the eyes and nose. A little simpler than the others, but still with subtle silver edging. The eyes were delicately almond-shaped and a little bigger than on the others' masks. Taking it, he placed it over his eyes; it was moulded quite well to the shape of his face. Abi took the black ribbons, tied them in a neat double bow, and hid them away just as the others had. He took a look in the mirror. His now delicate, pale complexion and soft, pink lips showed beneath the mask. His eyes peered through, accentuated by the mask, which made him look even more doe-eyed and innocent. Any of his masculine facial features were now either hidden behind the mask or cleverly transformed by Steph's magic brush.

The girls began to gather their things into handbags, which, to James' continued astonishment, were each coordinated with their respective outfits. James picked up his phone and realised his dress had absolutely no pockets whatsoever. Abi was once again on hand and prepared: she handed him a flat, satchel-like bag in black leather with two proud brass buckles. It was small, but since the only things he had to put in it were his phone, wallet, and hotel keycard, they had plenty of space.

Everything was, it seemed, ready. Abi tapped her phone to call a car, declaring shortly that it would be here in eight minutes. They gathered some last remaining things, but soon there was nothing left to do but wait. James was suddenly aware of a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. While everyone was busying themselves getting ready, he was just fine, but he now had nothing to distract him, and the nerves hit him hard. He was getting used to being around the girls, who were ecstatic with the way that his costume — their own handiwork — had turned out, but what about outside the room? Even getting down to the hotel reception seemed like walking across hot coals, let alone the rest of the night. What if someone recognised him? What if he fell over in the heels? What if..?

Abi's phone buzzed.

The waiting was over.

Chapter 7

The hotel room door clicked shut. Even though he knew he had the keycard to what was Becky's room in his bag, it still echoed with an ominous finality. There wasn't even anyone else around, but now he was in the hotel corridor — in public — in a powder blue satin dress and heels. The mask over his face felt like it should have been a small comfort, but in reality, he felt like it just made him stand out more.

Steph pressed the button for the lift, and again they waited — only for tens of seconds, but it seemed like hours as James tried desperately not to focus on the large swarm of butterflies fluttering in his stomach. The doors finally slid open, and James calculatedly stepped in first. He hoped that reception would be empty, but he certainly didn't want to be the first out.

It wasn't empty. A group of middle-aged men and women were checking in with piles of suitcases and rolling luggage. A man stood waiting at the desk while the receptionist tapped away on a keyboard. A woman stood behind him. Two other men stood chatting while two other women — presumably their wives — perched on seats, making their own conversation. James cringed. Steph was nearest the doors. She stepped out first and waited for them to regroup. As James stepped out, Abi spotted the car waiting outside and trotted confidently towards the sliding doors. The pair of men looked over, making a pretence of continuing their conversation but faltering. The rest of the group followed after Abi. The clicking of heels over the tiled floor was enough to distract the rest of the hotel guests from their conversations. James tried to ignore them and walked quickly behind Abi, trying to move his hips like Lucy had shown him.

They were attracting attention — there was no doubt about that — but as a group. Between the striking costumes, the masks, and the men deciding which of them to check out first, there was no time for anyone to notice that James was anything other than one of the group of girls. James' dread gave way to some new mix of feelings. Of the three portly, balding men, he caught at least one of them staring at him in the same way they started at the girls. It was unsettling, but once the men caught the steely-cold look of their partners, they stared at their shoes, trying to remember what they were talking about. James imagined the stern conversations that would happen once they got to their hotel rooms, and it was priceless. By the time he passed through the doorway, he was feeling bold enough to give a mischievous flick of his hair.

The taxi was parked almost at the door to the hotel, but the night air was cool and crisp. The fresh breeze ruffled the skirt as he felt it on his legs: a feeling he'd never felt before. He was now outside, in a dress — it felt like another milestone, somehow: another first. The sound of his heels, a little duller on the stone paving, accompanied his brief walk to the car.

It was a short ride to the venue, and it felt less like waiting thanks to the songs on the radio and the city whizzing past. Abi also filled James in on a few more details. This was the annual costume night, and it was renowned for having superbly high standards: this part he knew. She went on to explain that the contest was divided into two parts. For the first part, the judges would make their rounds of the club and select the five entries they deemed the best in each of the two categories — individual and group. They, needless to say, were in the group category. However, these top ten entries, as well as receiving VIP passes for the rest of the night, would be ranked again by both the judging panel and the rest of the clubgoers.

"The audience vote, if you like." Abi clarified, "So now obviously the judges are looking for creativity, detail, storytelling, all that kind of thing. We made it to the top five last year, but lost out on the audience vote."

Lucy took over. "So this year we figured... well, maybe something a bit flirtier might swing a few votes our way."

"I see." James acknowledged, shifting his feet to avoid Abi's long, glossy, inflexible boot, which was splayed awkwardly across the cab.

Jas picked up the explanation, "So basically, the final winning two entries are decided by combining the two votes from how the top ten do on the catwalk."

"Excuse me?" enquired James, raising an eyebrow from behind the mask.

Abi squirmed. "Ah, yeah, so... the top ten just walk out, pose a bit, you know..."

"I think you forgot to mention that part," James said pointedly.

"Well, but that's only if we make the top ten," she added, hastily, "which we probably won't."

The driver pulled up on a street a little off the main thoroughfare. It was still early to be going to a club by normal standards, but James certainly didn't intend to go for drinks in a bar beforehand. A handful of people appeared to be doing exactly that. Their enthusiastic singing echoed down the side street. The street itself was fairly nondescript, with a few small shops and houses. Trees dotted the side of the road, and the cool breeze rustled through the leaves. The windows were mostly dark, but the door they had stopped outside was open with just a velvet rope across it suspended between two gleaming brass poles. There was nobody else outside, but the early hour would probably account for that. A warm glow came from inside, along with the pulse of a bassline.

It looked inviting, but James wasn't looking forward to the security guard. His interactions with them on nights out were not exactly bad, but he often found them to be rather gruff and abrupt. Mainly, though, this was the part where they would ask for ID. Sure, he had his wallet with his driver's license, but he was not looking forward to a burly guard comparing the short-haired, boyish photo on his licence with his current appearance. How even would he, with the masks?

James needn't have worried. In fact, the guard stepped over and helped them out of the car. James had never been offered help getting out of a car before, although he'd also never tried to get out of one while wearing heels, so he decided that he was actually quite grateful. The group shivered in the cool evening air and moved quickly towards the door. The brass clip of the rope clinked as the guard unhooked it from the pole to let them pass.

"Have a wonderful evening, ladies." said the guard in a rumbling voice.

They stepped onto the soft, red carpet of the entryway. The ceiling was high, with columns rising up towards it. Posters were framed on the walls, one of them advertising a burlesque act the following Friday. A lone woman sat behind the wood-panelled reception booth. The venue must have been a converted theatre; the old brass sign on the booth reading "Box Office" seemed to confirm it. There were a few other smart, wood-panelled doors, but a thick, black curtain covered the one opposite them.

"Welcome!" greeted the receptionist cheerfully. Abi breezed over to her and presented her phone. The lady took it, and there was a "beep" before she handed it back.

"Group of five? Perfect." the receptionist read from her screen before tapping a few more details into the computer. "OK, that's all sorted then — good luck and have a great night!" she cooed as Abi took her phone, sauntered over to the opposite door, and moved aside the heavy curtain.

As they made their way down a corridor, the bassline turned into a lively beat with melodic piano samples, shimmering snares, and a powerful, glassy female vocal. Before long, they were in the main room: spacious, the darkness punctured by bright, coloured lights pulsing in time with the beat. Directly ahead of them was what must have been the theatre stage, and essentially it still was, except that right in the centre was a DJ booth occupied by a tall, slender lady with long, black hair and bright red lips. Directly in front of the booth, the stage extended out into the main room: this must have been the catwalk Jas was talking about. To James's right, a balcony overlooked them, making a smaller, more intimate space underneath it with plush seating and tables, most of which were already occupied. In the back corner, to their left, was a large bar area where several staff were busily mixing drinks, mostly in bright, fruity colours.

There were already quite a few people in the club. It had a very different feel to clubs he'd been to before, somehow, although he realised that one difference was that his view of it was from a few inches higher than normal. He saw into people's masked eyes without having to look up quite so much. The small change in perspective was refreshing and empowering.

James was intrigued to see what the other costumes would be like, having seen Abi and the girls' efforts. He wasn't disappointed. The room was a sea of brightly coloured, intricate outfits depicting movie characters, historic costumes, anime, fairytales, animals, gods, legends, and everything in between, each one of their faces obscured to various degrees by masks of all different kinds. As the group entered, they were almost run down by a unicorn and a centaur striding past, both wearing heel-less boots with long hoof-like platforms. One of the tables was occupied by a selection of the Greek pantheon. Poseidon was showing off his chiselled, bare chest to Aphrodite, who seemed at least passingly impressed, as did Zeus. Snow White was at the centre of the dance floor, while the five dwarves, though depleted in number, still took up a large part of the rest. Marie Antoinette extended a little finger as she raised a martini glass to her neat, waxed beard. A witch in a long, elegant black dress and entirely green skin was also proudly sporting a goatee.

"See? Told you you wouldn't stand out," Jas enunciated loudly into James' left ear.

Chapter 8

"Jasmine! My dearest Jasmine!" They had only just found a free table when they heard a voice. It was only when Jas looked up that James realised it was addressing her. Jas leapt up from the seat she'd just taken and extended her arms to the owner of the voice — a tall aristocrat in a long, luxurious coat and frilly shirt not unlike the one Jas was wearing herself. His mask was ornate and detailed, covering his eyes and the top of his nose. James had no idea whether he was hamming up the 18^th-century noble accent or whether that was how he really spoke.

"Marcus!" she chirped as she embraced the man and he lifted her clear off the ground.

"You look divine, my dear! My goodness, all of you look simply ravishing. I believe I may have fallen well and truly down the rabbit hole!" he addressed the group.

"Oh, you look awesome!" Jas returned the compliment.

"...and ...Alice!" he said, intrigued, as he turned to James, "Why my dear, even with the masks I believe I would recall having met such beauty as yourself before." James felt his face turn bright red, although he had no idea if it was visible under the makeup. He instinctively looked down at the table.

"Oh, my dear," continued the man named Marcus, "I beg your apologies for embarrassing you. I shall make amends at once and obtain refreshment for these fine ladies." James was now fairly sure he was putting the accent on, but at this point he was afraid to ask. Marcus whisked away toward the bar, the tails of his coat billowing behind him. The bar wasn't yet too busy, so he returned fairly quickly with a bottle of sparkling wine and a tray filled with six glasses. He popped the cork expertly and poured.