01. I don't know how to be Gay

A short story written by Corey Patten 01/02/24

Here it comes, that question that lurks like a viper, ready to strike at any moment.

“Are you seeing anyone?” Robbie’s mother asks. It’s an innocent enough question despite the shame it draws forth. He quickly answers,

“No.” Then because a justification is required, “None of the guys I meet get me.” A quiet pause.

“It’s alright. You don’t want one of those guys whose only personality is gay,” adds Robbie’s father. Robbie doesn’t hold his father’s micro aggression against him, he’s just trying to be supportive. This signals the end of their monthly dinner and soon Robbie is standing outside, watching them leave with a heavy feeling in his chest.

He pulls his coat tight around him and begins the trip back to his car, his eyes fixed firmly on the ground.

It’s only when a peculiar light cuts through the cold dreariness of his surroundings that he looks up. A bright pink neon sign reads ‘Glitter Grotto’. The town’s premier gay club. Robbie stares at it with a shadow of wistfulness upon his face. He turns away.

“I wouldn’t fit in there,” he says. He only manages to take two steps before pausing again, his eyes wide and stuck on the creature before him. The beady little eyes stare back at him and then from its mouth comes a brief squeak. The otter ruffles its fur, then turns, showing off a small rainbow tutu, and scurries away down a side alley. Robbie stares at the spot where it stood for a moment, then looks around. The street is completely empty. “It must be someone’s pet,” he says with an uncertain nod. Knowing it’s distraught owner must be nearby, Robbie enters the surprisingly clean alley. Robbie calls out to the otter as he searches but is only met with an eery silence. On the grey wall to his left, Robbie glimpses a splash of colour, which as he nears develops into a beautiful mural. One dark skinned and one light skinned woman, each holding a child and framed by a rainbow-coloured heart. Robbie’s brow creases as he notices, at their feet, is an otter wearing a rainbow tutu. He leans closer and realises it protrudes from the mural, almost like a button. He reaches out and softly presses the button, but when he does, the wall opens up and Robbie falls through. Darkness follows.

Robbie opens his eyes and is blinded by intense sunlight. He sits up and realises something is suddenly very different. Everything is unashamedly, outspokenly, and proudly queer. Robbie leaps to his feet and looks around wide eyed at the colourful buildings overflowing with plants. Along the streets walk men and women wearing all manner of colourful outfits from dresses, short shorts and cargo pants to flannel and mesh. There is the distinct smell of lavender permeating the air, with an undertone of poppers.

“Excuse me!” someone shouts. Robbie quickly jumps out of the way as a crop top wearing man speed walks past.

“Girl, you gotta be more careful,” says another voice and Robbie turns to see a tall woman approaching. As she nears, Robbie notices the incredibly high heels, grand violet hair, and bright makeup. There is no doubt this is a drag queen.She stops in front of Robbie and looks down at him. “I assume you’re my new baby gay so let me explain real quick.” She rolls her head to the side and points with one long fingernail to several thick white lines that mark the ground. “This one is for the gay walkers. The middle one is for the bisexuals walking at half speed. Then the third one is for everyone else.” She rolls her head back toward Robbie. “And I’m Miss Verdant Violetta, your designated drag guide.” Robbie’s mind is unable to form a complete sentence. That is, until Miss Violetta flicks her hair impatiently.

“I’m Robbie,” he splutters. “Where are we?”

“Honey, this is the Rainbow City,” she answers with a dramatic wave of her hands. “Come.” She begins to walk, heels click clacking on the pavement, and Robbie, still in awe, rushes to keep up.

“Right. But what is this place?” he asks.

“This is the fiercest place on Earth. A place where everyone can be their authentic selves and slay every Cher given day.” Robbie glances across the road to the construction site filled with burly women.

“And no one gets mad about it?” This causes Miss Violetta to pause and turn back to Robbie with one raised eyebrow.

“Mad? Why would anyone be mad?” Robbie stares back blankly.

“I don’t know. That just normally makes people mad.” Miss Violetta stares expressionless for a long moment, then bursts into a cackle of laughter and resumes her brisk strut.

“You crazy baby. Anyway, hurry up now, we don’t wanna be late.” Feeling the sweat on his brow, Robbie quickly shrugs off his coat.

“Where are we going?”

“It’s the Drag King and Queen’s policy that we help all new arrivals find the group they belong with. We’re heading to daily mandated brunch.” For the first time since arriving, Robbie’s smile falters.

“I don’t fit in with other gays though,” he says quietly. Miss Violetta though does not stop.

“Nonsense baby. Everyone belongs somewhere. Now, here we are,” she replies as they reach the dazzling Café Slay. “Let’s find you a group.” She thrusts open the doors and leads Robbie inside. As soon as the doors open, Robbie’s ears are assaulted by cackles and clinking glasses. Everyone at the table closest looks up with delight as Miss Violetta approaches. “Hello everyone, I’d like you to meet Robbie. Robbie, these are the Yass gays.” A symphony of musical greetings rises from the table.

“Hi, Robbie,” says the twink closest to him. “Who’s your favourite drag queen?” Robbie hesitates.

“I’ve never actually seen a drag show.” An awkward silence follows.

“Like ever?” asks the twunk sitting across from the first one. At that moment a waiter wearing a very short apron and a brilliant smile approaches.

“Hi, what can I get you? We have iced lattes, iced mochas, cold brew.”

“A cappuccino would be great thanks.”

“Of course, one iced cappuccino.”

“Sorry, just a cappuccino. No ice.” There is an audible gasp from the table, and Robbie turns to see the Yass gays staring at him as if he’d just committed a crime.

“Did you know you could get coffee without ice?” someone at the table whispers.

“Alright,” Miss Violetta says abruptly. “We’ve got to keep moving. But it was lovely seeing you ladies.” She takes Robbie by the shoulders and steers him away to another table. “Clearly not your tribe, let’s try the Insta gays.” At the next table is a group of gorgeous men, all wearing tight fitting tank tops, a short fade hairstyle and in front of each of them is a simple plate of what appears to be roast chicken and steamed vegetables. They look up unnervingly slowly and Robbie feels immediately tense as their eyes move from his face down to his feet and back up. “Everyone, this is Robbie, he’s new in town.”

“Hi,” they say collectively in a low drone.

“This is Chad and Chris,” says Miss Violetta, motioning to the two men sitting closest on her left. They both have almost identical features aside from their eye colour.

“Hi. Are you two siblings?” Their expression informs Robbie that this was not a smart question to ask.

“This is my husband,” says one of them, whether Chad or Chris, Robbie isn’t sure.

“I’ve found his Instagram,” says the jock to his right. Robbie is too nervous to ask how he did that so quickly. The jock looks up with an expression that’s impossible to read. “You only have three hundred followers.”

“Three hundred? Is it on private?” the hunk next to him asks as he leans over. The jock subtly shakes his head as the hunk begins to scroll. “There’s no photos of you topless on here,” he adds with a tone that’s almost accusatory.

“Yeah, I don’t really like to post photos of my body,” answers Robbie with a nervous glance toward Miss Violetta. The waiter from earlier returns and hands Robbie his cappuccino. When he turns back, either Chris or Chad is whispering into the ear of the other and both are smirking. Seeing this, Robbie turns and abruptly walks out of the café. Outside, Robbie feels even more overwhelmed by everything going on around him. Across the road is a cat café packed with flannel shirt wearing women. To the right, for some inexplicable reason, is a bunch of people sitting in a circle of chairs at all sorts of weird angles and shooting finger guns.

“Baby, what’s the problem?” Robbie keeps staring ahead rather than turn back to Miss Violetta.

“I told you, I don’t belong here,” he snaps. Miss Violetta’s eyebrows rise, but she decides to let his attitude slide. Just this once.

“Honey, everyone has a place where they belong. We just have to find yo-,”

“I don’t know how to be gay,” Robbie says, cutting her off. He finally turns to look at Violetta and though his face is angry, she sees the anguish in his eyes. Before she can respond, a voice comes from the direction of the café,

“Hey.” They both turn around to see the waiter. “It’s Robbie right? I just wanted to say I love your Queen tattoo.” He points to the image of Freddie Mercury etched into Robbie’s forearm. “Which is your favourite song?” Robbie is so stunned that it takes him a minute to respond.

“Probably ‘I Want to Break Free’.” The waiter closes his eyes and grunts.

“Yes! That one’s incredible.” At that moment, someone else exits the café, one of the insta gays by the look of him.

“Hey man, I noticed you had a photo with Ronaldo on your insta. When did you take that?” Robbie’s brain hits reboot, and he struggles to find the words.

“Last year. I went to a game with my dad.” The Instagay grins.

“That’s awesome. I love football, I go to Liverpool games all the time.” He looks at his watch. “I have to go, but I added you on Instagram so we can chat more there.”

“Same, work is calling,” the waiter adds with that brilliant smile. “Add me too though. You seem cool.” The two of them disappear back inside the cafe. Robbie stares blankly at the door, his mouth hanging slightly open. Miss Violetta gently begins to lead Robbie away from the café.

“I didn’t think those were things that gay people could like,” Robbie says quietly.

“Baby, listen to me carefully. Lord Gaga knows we could all learn to be less judgemental. But it’s important to remember,” she turns and looks Robbie dead in the eyes, “there is no right way to be queer. Each of us has a unique experience of being queer and every one of them is valid.” They come to a stop at the foot of an enormous mural painted on the ground, identical to the one on the wall. With that same rainbow tutu wearing otter shaped button. 

Robbie looks up at Miss Violetta and smiles, but before he can say anything,

“Get in your lane!” shouts a voice. Robbie is abruptly shoved forward. He steps on the button and feels the ground disappear beneath him. Darkness follows.

Robbie walks up the same street as the day before. After waking up in his bed and spending the entire day trying to figure out if his adventure in Rainbow City had actually happened, he finally decided it didn’t really matter. There was something much more important he had to do. He stops and turns to stare at the club across the road. Standing outside the club is a young guy wearing a shirt with an image of Queen. He looks back at Robbie and smiles. In his mind, Robbie hears the words,

“There is no right way to be queer.”

About Corey Patten

is an Australian short story writer who spent 2023 traveling around Europe, concluding his journey by volunteering with Fighting Fear, where he supported LGBTQ+ forced migrants. His work has earned special mentions in various literary competitions, with his piece "I Don't Know How to Be Gay" gaining recognition in 2024. Corey, a Gay man, is passionate about telling the untold stories of Queer lives. His series, "Tales from Rainbow City," builds a unique universe where diverse LGBTQIA+ characters’ lives intersect as they navigate their identities and confront the challenges they face. For more information about his work follow him @astorywithcorey on Instagram.

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