Hit'n Those Notes Ch. 09

"I don't hear any music," I challenged.

"DJ says the mixer fuse is shot or something. He's going to pull a backup unit from the club. Should be any minute," he turned to look toward the area setup for the DJ, "I should go check on him..."

"Okay, well, I guess we'll see you around," I replied.

"Sure. Are you a Volcom girl?"

What? Oh, my swim suit... "You know Volcom?" I asked. That was stupid! He's not like twenty years older than I am...

"It's all I wore as a kid. I'm ashamed to say this, but my first tattoo was the Volcom Stone logo. Not my best decision," he said with a little chuckle.

"Really? You have a Volcom logo tattoo," I asked, looking at mom, who was shaking her head.

"Yeah, but I sense there's more going on here given that look on your mom's face."

Mom spoke before I had a chance: "Brea thought it would be cool to get a Volcom tattoo from a friend who was an aspiring tattoo artist. What's he doing now, Brea, still managing that Subway sandwich shop?" She let that hang out there for a second before continuing, "I nixed that idea."

"So you don't have any tattoos, Brea?"

"No, but one day," I replied, while mom nodded her head no. Which was either a statement of her forbidding it, which she knew she couldn't or she was stating in her most motherly way that tattoos were a bad idea.

"You know we have a tattoo parlor in the hotel," Blake stated.

"Let's not encourage her, Blake. She needs to be focused on tonight, not getting ink," mom quipped.

"Understood Denise," Blake winked at me, and I couldn't help but smile.

"Alright... I've got to get that music going. See you both later, I hope," he said and walked away, heading towards the DJ set-up.

When he was well out of earshot, mom asked, "Do you still think he doesn't like you?"

"Mom, nothing in any of that could be confused with like, attraction, or whatever," I said a little more exacerbated than I intended.

She was staring at me, then cracked the slightest of smiles and said, "You like him too."

Augh! We're not having this conversation.

Thursday, March 29th, 11:57 a.m.

The vendor expo at the Grand Cayman Hotel celebrating the Transgender Day of Visibility was much larger than I expected it to be. It was also way more crowded. The George Town banquet room it was being held in was easily three times the size of the banquet room we did our 'Meet and Greet' in last night.

Right inside the door, mom made her first purchase -- two t-shirts promoting the singing competition. One was for me, of course; I was very lucky to have such a cool mom! It took great effort to NOT put the thing on to help hide my body from a few stares I'd already gotten. Whatever! Get over yourselves. If this thing was held at the outdoor pool, no one would have given my swimsuit or me a second look.

We were given a flyer upon entry, and a quick skim of it showed easily thirty to forty vendors. They represented: bakeries -- for wedding cakes or parties in the local Vegas area; wedding planners--again, Vegas-based; clothing and jewelry boutiques -- half from Vegas and others from as far away as San Francisco, LA, and Phoenix; makeup artists and supplies -- including two booths selling wigs and everything you could imagine for hair care; a couple shoe manufacturers - I hadn't heard of either of them, but that didn't mean I couldn't be tempted; and finally, all forms of medical representatives hawking plastic surgery, hair removal, weight-loss, and counseling services.

Whoever had coordinated this portion of the event had to be part of our community because there's no way someone without insight could have gathered these vendors for every need or interest of someone who was Trans. The vendor expo, on paper, was meaningful; I was impressed and looking forward to seeing everything.

Three booths into it, mom bought a necklace for herself. What was I doing? I was being congratulated on my performance last night and being asked every question I had answered last night all over again. It was beginning to sap the enjoyment out of being here, until my phone vibrated.

When I checked it, there was a text from Kaley: 'Where is RU?'

'We just started walking through the expo. Where RU?'

She replied quickly, 'Pool, I'm looking for you! Wait for me!'

'We're just to the left inside the entrance. We're literally three booths into it.'

'K!' There was a kissy-face emoji after the exclamation point. What a goof!

Kaley's joining us was a huge relief! She was always full of energy, and she knew how to have fun or make whatever we were doing more fun. She also gave me the confidence to be myself, and she was super protective without being my mom. The fact she could squash a lot of my angst, anxiety, or self-doubting ways was HUGE! I think she enjoyed dragging me around and making me feel like I was no different from the woman she was.

When she found us, we hugged quickly and I thought - Let the fun begin! Mom loved Kaley like she was her second daughter and their personalities combined always amplified the fun we girls had. We were going to be some trouble for a few of these vendors, I could already tell!

When we found the first shoe vendor booth, it was game on, and Kaley put out the 'Do Not Disturb' vibe so I could enjoy trying on a few pairs of super cute pumps, to die for wedge heeled sandals, and a pair of suede boots I couldn't believe fit perfectly! I could see a couple people waiting to get time with me, but I took advantage of Kaley's running interference. I would be gracious in a couple minutes; I just needed some me-shoe-time first!

"How much are these," I asked the saleswoman. I hadn't seen a price tag on any of the boxes.

Finding cute shoes in my size, that didn't kill my feet or scream any number of crushing... Nope, don't go there! Fuck your doubts today! Cute shoes. How much?! The fit and feel are good. Don't ruin this moment! Breathe...

"Sixty-five, but I can take thirty dollars off since you're part of the show," she replied. She picked up the box and looked at the bottom of it, saying, "Mmmhuh, I can do thirty-five for those."

"Kale's... Cute or no?" I asked, a little nervous.

"Really? Very cute," she said, smiling while turning a pair of sandals over to check out their soles. "You have so many outfits those could go with..."

"Mom?"

"I like those, honey," she replied. She really wasn't looking for shoes and was pretty much hanging out, waiting for me to decide what I was going to do.

Augh... Thirty-five was more than I cared to pay for a pair of shoes, but these wedged heeled sandals could go with nearly every skirt or dress I had for work. Cute, comfortable... I looked at my painted nails peeking out. I doubt I could walk into Marshall's or Target and get a better deal - if they even had my size. Grrr! Just do it!

"I'll take these," I said, confident I was making the right decision.

"They're one of our best sellers on our website. If you haven't seen the whole expo, I can hold them here for you after I ring you up."

"Oh, that would be really cool. Thank you," I said while pulling my Visa card out. I felt really good about this purchase. I hope the other shoe booth didn't have any shoes I couldn't live without!

Thursday, March 29th, 12:25 PM

The second shoe booth thankfully didn't have anything I liked; one pair of shoes purchased per day needed to be my limit anyway. The owner did give me a code I could use on his website to get twenty-five percent off any purchase and free shipping, but I would have to make a purchase before the end of next month. The quality just didn't seem to be there with his products, so we didn't stay very long. Kaley thought they looked a little too Third World-ish, as did mom.

When we walked by a plastic surgery booth, my name tag caught the eye of the woman in the booth.

"You're one of the finalists? I don't recognize you from the show last night."

"Yeah, I was wearing a wig. I sang Toxic..." My reply sounded more like a question than confidently stating I had sung that song.

"Really? Whoa, I really loved that arrangement. Your voice is beautiful. Next to the 'Hotel California' guy, you were my favorite performer last night. I'm Susan Wilks-Jenson," she said, extending her hand over the table she was sitting at.

"Breanna Calloway," I said, and then realized she had most likely already picked that up from my name tag. Augh...

"Any interest in plastic surgery," she asked, something clicked in her eyes. "You've had some FFS, nose maybe? Trachea shave?"

"That obvious," I asked, suddenly worried my face was somehow hideously scarred.

"Relax, Brea; she's probably a surgeon and can just tell," Kaley said, coming up behind me.

"I was for thirty-four years. Now I manage the practice for my daughter here in Vegas. Can I see?" She stood and came around her little table to get a closer look at my face.

I was frozen by the request and just stood there while she examined my face. Kaley didn't seem too concerned, but I knew if this got any weirder, she would be the first to call an end to the surgical admiration going on. I looked for mom; she was in the booth next to this one, deep in conversation about something.

"Really nice work, your ears too? Whoever did this was highly skilled," she said, stepping back. "My daughter doesn't do GCS / SRS, but if you were interested," her face softened along with her voice, "Not that you need it, but if you were interested in breast augmentation, she is incredibly skilled."

I looked at Kaley, who shrugged and said, "We're from San Diego, so this would be a bit out of the way for her."

"Oh... I understand. Have you given any thought about where you would do your GCS / SRS?"

It was the second time she had mentioned GCS / SRS, and either she was guessing I hadn't already had the surgery, which is kind of bold of her to be asking, or she was fishing for something. I told her the name of the doctor and clinic in Toronto, Canada, that I had researched and was saving diligently to be able to afford the costs of their GCS / SRS program. And in my reply, there was the answer: No, I haven't had any appendages removed yet. I expected her next comment was going to be recommending someone else...

"I know that clinic, and I've read a few of the papers published by that doctor. Why go there?" she asked.

"Because of all the places I've researched and everyone I've talked to; the doctor is the best... The clinic is renowned for its recovery support."

She was now smiling. "That's a long way to go, but you'd do that for the best. I'm telling you my daughter is the best - look her up," she said, handing me a card.

Well, that kind of spun back around conveniently now, didn't it? I took the card and looked at Kaley, not sure what to say.

"Brea has been getting discounts on everything she's bought today; is anything like that available?"

My eyes widened, and I gave Kaley a look that said, 'What are you doing?'

It took a moment for Susan to consider, but she replied, "Win tonight, and I'll knock off half. But you have to do a promotional campaign for us. Could be print, website, YouTube, whatever. Before and after kind of thing, tasteful of course, and we'd want to use the fact you won..."

"If she places..." Kaley countered quickly.

What the hell! I was stunned and stood there silently while these two haggled over the cost of something I really didn't have a budget for and wasn't even sure I wanted! Kaley!! I reasoned I was safe from any discount if I was required to win; I doubted I could win this competition on my best day of singing. If I got lucky and placed, though? Augh!

"Sure," Susan said with her hand outstretched towards me. I took her hand and shook it. She continued, "Look into Ashley and her reputation. If you ever consider augmentation and you place tonight and you do an ad campaign for us, we'll knock off half. Check out our website for more. Oh, and it doesn't have to be breasts; I'll honor that deal if there's something else you want done, though I would advise against it; your face is quite feminine."

Kaley was all smiles, and since I hadn't said anything while these two haggled, I said the first thing that popped into my mind, "Okay, that... That sounds really good. I'll check," I looked at the card and read, 'Dr. Ashley Wilks-Pout'.

Kaley had turned away and walked towards the next booth, so I said goodbye to Susan and followed after her. Two steps were taken, and mom snuck up behind me.

"You talk to that woman about breast implants," she asked.

"Mom," I complained, "I don't really want to talk about it."

"Okay," she said. "Kaley, what was that all about?"

Kaley turned away from a jewelry display and said, "Getting Brea fifty percent off boobs... If she ever decides she wants them."

She was way too pleased with herself and her haggling skills.

"Yeah, and tell her what I have to do to get that," I protested.

"She needs to place tonight," Kaley said, still pleased with herself and not picking up on any of the visual cues all over my face I had concerning us talking about this subject here or with my mom. "Oh, and she has to do some advertising for the doctor... Piece of cake," she added as an afterthought.

Mom was looking at me a little shocked so I said, "I'm not getting implants... I've got other things I need to accomplish before I pay for that kind of thing. And as for placing tonight, it's not very likely... I'd have to be lucky, and others would have to screw up royally. Everyone in the finale can sing their asses off."

"That's the spirit...," Kaley chided, picking up a bracelet from the table we were standing at, examining it.

"Just do your best honey," mom added.

Augh! This isn't... My attention was grabbed when I saw him moving around a couple of people four booths away, and then I lost him as the crowd between us ebbed and flowed. I felt my stomach drop. I might have seen him first, but it was the woman he was talking with that caught my attention -- was that Jennifer? That must mean Tyler was around here somewhere. I scanned the aisle and booths where Dana was -- no sign of Tyler.

"What's up," Kaley asked, noticing I was focused on something other than the jewelry at the booth we were in front of.

"I need to talk to someone; I'll be right back."

Mom and Kaley gave me a look before I walked away. I didn't care; I was going to right the universe. Could I blow Tyler up right here in this crowded expo with his fiancée right there? I just needed to get the match lit and let it touch the fuse! Where are you, you son-of-a-bitch...

Thursday, March 29th, 12:41 PM

My resolve hadn't diminished until I was right behind Dana. My heart was racing, I reached out and patted his back tentatively.

"Hey Dana..." Could I do this?

He looked over his shoulder, "Oh... Hey Breanna, how's it going?"

The woman I assumed was Jennifer stopped to see what was going on, probably thinking I was a fan trying to get a minute of his time.

"Good, thanks... Tyler around," I asked.

The woman with Dana looked at me a little confused, maybe wondering why I was inquiring, and then replied, "He's still in bed... Little hung over..."

"Brea's one of the finalists, Jen. Jennifer, Breanna... Brea, this is Jennifer, Tyler's fiancé," Dana made the introductions.

I already knew she was his fiancé and while she wasn't the center of my ire right now, I already had the match in my hand.

"Hi..." Was all I could manage to say, though it was taking every bit of control to not just throw up what her fiancé, what Tyler had...

"I don't recognize you from the show last night; you must have sung after the fire alarm," Jennifer said, snapping me out of my train of thought. "We left and did some gambling. Tyler did a little too much drinking." She chuckled after sharing Tyler had drunk a bit too much statement.

"Oh, guess that happens around here - people making poor choices... Sometimes they don't even have to be stupid drunk."

I'm sure the dead, uncaring look on my face said there was more, but I stopped short of letting her know that her fucking fiancé had come to my room the other night. Augh! What did I really want to accomplish here? She wasn't the problem, but she should know, right?

"They don't call this place Sin City without a reason," Dana said, maybe starting to put the pieces together. He had a concerned look on his face.

I sensed someone beside me before they spoke: "Your mom wants you to look at a sundress when you're done here."

I didn't look at Kaley; I just held my stare with Dana, saying, "Yeah, poor choices and sins..."

I turned without saying another word and headed back toward the clothing booth I assumed mom was waiting for me to come check out a sundress.

Kaley was right next to me. "That was a little chilly; I assume there's a story..."

"Let's talk about it later," I replied.

I felt someone poke my back and turned to see Jennifer right behind me.

"What's your fucking problem?"

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Author's Note:

Don't be afraid to rate this story if it's doing anything for you (you don't have to have an account to do so, and there are no prizes for most 'Rates'). If you comment, I will reply directly to you (if you have an account) or in the comments if you're anonymous, so let's chat...

If there are problems or you have criticisms you'd like to share privately, feel free to message me; I'd love to address them if I can.

I'm trying to grow as a storyteller; I'm far from perfect, so any help is much appreciated. Thanks for reading...

Rachel M. Moore