Chapters (53)
- Front Cover
- Letter from the Author
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Contents
- • One •
- • Two •
- • Three •
- • Four •
- • Five •
- • Six •
- • Seven •
- • Eight •
- • Nine •
- • Ten •
- • Eleven •
- • Twelve •
- • Thirteen •
- • Fourteen •
- • Fifteen •
- • Sixteen •
- • Seventeen •
- • Eighteen •
- • Nineteen •
- • Twenty •
- • Twenty-One •
- • Twenty-Two •
- • Twenty-Three •
- • Twenty-Four •
- • Twenty-Five •
- • Twenty-Six •
- • Twenty-Seven •
- • Twenty-Eight •
- • Twenty-Nine •
- • Thirty •
- • Thirty-One •
- • Thirty-Two •
- • Thirty-Three •
- • Thirty-Four •
- • Thirty-Five •
- • Thirty-Six •
- • Thirty-Seven •
- • Thirty-Eight •
- • ∞ •
- • Thirty-Nine •
- • Forty •
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- Excerpt from Be Dazzled
- One
- Two
- About the Author
- Back Cover
“You’re not even on your stilts, and we still need to do final touches.”
“Oh, you mean when you make me sit on the floor so you can glue mold to my face?”
“It’s not mold, it’s moss, and it’s not just glue, it’s spirit gum. It needs to look real, like little organic puffs.”
“The little organic puff,” May says in her grand voice, which is just her normal voice but with an affected Maggie-Smith-in-Downton-Abbey accent. “That’s the title of your memoir. The Little Organic Puff, by Raphael Odom.”
I continue listing all the things we—or really, I—need to do before we hit the con floor.
“And then I have test the power packs for the LEDs and check to make sure the vape cartridge is full, and you need to practice walking in those stilts, and I need to touch up some of my toadstools. There’s a lot to do. I don’t want anything hitting social until we’re perfect.”
Typically, you show up at a con ready, but with all this sneaking, we have to get ready on the go. Not ideal, but necessary. Lucky for us, the bigger cons now have changing rooms so people can suit up on location. This is why I have a rolling suitcase.
“But the moss—are you sure I need to wear it? It’s itchy, and besides, my mask nearly covers my whole face.”
“Yes, I’m sure. It’s all about being fully in character. The judges will appreciate the detail if they ask you to remove the mask, which they will. You’ll see.”
May scrunches up her eyebrows.
“Fine, fine, you can mold me,” she says. “Sometimes I think you get off on these things, Raff.”
“May, gross. I’m gay. And so are you.”
“So what? Gay people do all sorts of things. They wear, like, harnesses and leather straps. Just out and about.”
“So do horses, but no one kink-shames them. Now drop it.”
She murmurs, “Oh, you can bet I’ll drop something. And I’m sure you’d love to watch me pick it up real slow.”
May basks in my discomfort. She is doing me a huge favor this weekend by competing with me; putting up with her weird jokes is the least I can do. If I weren’t so anxious, I’d be laughing and joking around, too. But I am anxious. I’m always anxious about something, but on competition days, I’m anxious about everything. And usually, I have ways of calming myself down, but this is the biggest show I’ve ever competed in. This is Controverse. It doesn’t get any bigger than this, so nothing is going to calm me down. Not listening to music. Not meditation. Maybe tranquilizers, but probably not. Only winning.