Vinnie Goes on a Date (part 2- Short Story)

This story includes Vinnie, Jareth, Cole, Nigel, and Richard

!Warning!
Use of outdated queer terms

That evening, after work had finished, Vinnie dressed himself in a light pink suit jacket with matching flared pants. A cream yellow cravat was tied snug around his neck and tucked into his collared shirt. Although he had a string of pearls- much like the ones Jareth had- he abandoned them after seeing what he looked like in the mirror with them.

Vinnie wrapped a beige scarf around his neck and set off to meet with Henry on Warner. And when he had arrived, Henry smiled at him and said:

“Hello Mouse,”

“Hello Henry,” he replied.

Side by side, both men began to walk.

“You know,” said Henry, “Some lads get nervous going to a place like this. Especially when they’ve never taken the time to go before.”

Vinnie nodded.

“It’s good to socialize.”

“Mmh,” Vinnie hummed. Then he asked, “is there a live band?”

“Oh yea, course there is Mouse. Haha, they wouldn’t go about playing the songs on a record player, there’d be no one to hear it over the chatter. It’s a busy place. Instruments are much louder than record players.”

Vinnie thought of his acoustic guitar waiting for him at his flat. Her front board was worn where Vinnie’s pick met the strings. She was, in fact, the guitar that Vinnie used in Jareth’s album To Thine Own Self.

It was then that he noticed Henry had stopped talking.

“Do you play any instruments?” Vinnie asked.

“Ah, I play guitar right now, I know a few good riffs. I know the solo in “Till There was You”, actually. The one George Harrison does. It’s not as hard to learn as some people make it out and all. If I weren’t so busy I’d keep it going but I just don’t have the time.”

“What would you want to learn besides guitar?”

“Uh, nothing really. Guitar is the best sound you know? Wouldn’t want to learn anything else.”

“Oh,” said Vinnie.

Henry was wearing the same plaid coat he had worn the night before. Infact, his pants may have been the same as well, but Vinnie could not remember. He imagined, as they walked, that he could wrap a hug around Henry’s arm and walk with him while clinging. Or perhaps hold his hand to find that it was cold, and Vinnie’s hand was warm.

“Do you like bass guitar?” Vinnie asked.

“Not really.”

“Oh, alright. I play a couple instruments.”

“Oh yea? Do you do guitar?” Henry asked, smiling. He leaned forward to look at Vinnie’s face.

“Yes… I’m working to learn harp now,” Vinnie said, smiling.

“Harp? Are you sure that’s what it is?”

“Yes.”

“Well harp is tough cause its such a large instrument, and youre a small lad. I can’t imagine your arms can reach, haha. People who play the harp need longer arms.”

Vinnie said nothing. 

Not long after, Vinnie and Henry arrived at the front of a fabric shop by the name of Thread The Needle. The shop windows were lit warm with light despite the hour, and upon entering a small bell above the door chimed. The shop was small, perhaps the size of a spacey bedroom, with shelves stacked with thick fabric rolls up to the ceiling. They were categorized by fabric type, but clearly not by color.

“Oh, evenin Henry,” an older woman said behind the counter. She was knitting the beginnings of some project with pink yarn. She wore green cat-eye glasses with yellow beads hanging from each end. 

“Evenin, Maureen,” Henry replied.

“Who’s this?”

“A little mouse I found in the park,” he replied, grinning.

“Oh,” she said, then smiled at Vinnie.

Despite his shock at Henry’s boldness, Vinnie smiled back.

Henry made his way to the back of the shop where a door had been propped open with a chair. Vinnie had thought it led to a back alley, but found that it instead led to a set of stairs down to a basement level. He could see at the bottom of the black brick steps was a checkered vinyl flooring. There was chatter, and pink lighting, and music from a band with one too little instruments.

Henry gave Vinnie’s shoulder a quick squeeze then trotted down the steps. Vinnie followed behind and held the wall with one hand.

“Is this the club?” Vinnie asked.

“What? You really need to speak up,” Henry said with a raised voice as they got nearer to the music.

“Is this the club?” Vinnie asked again, louder.

“I can’t understand you!” Henry said, smiling back at Vinnie.

The place was spacious compared to upstairs. The walls were long, and one was made up completely of mirrors. They stretched up and disappeared into a black ceiling, which had pipes running along it in jagged patterns. In the center hung a disco ball that spun lazily and scattered the floor with glowing specks. It appeared to Vinnie that this was once a dance studio.

Tables of different sizes were placed around in a square to create an empty “stage” in the middle, which was indicated by a large square of blue tape. Men sat together laughing, chatting, and holding drinks. An entire table waved to Henry, and he waved back. 

Just as Henry had said, a band played live music. They had themselves a bass guitarist, a lead guitarist, and a drummer with a very polite drum set. Although there was a grand piano, there was no pianist.

Most interesting to Vinnie was a tall, dark man standing at the bar in white heels and a red dress. He was smiling at the bartender with his chin on his palm and a cigarette between two fingers. Vinnie stared, curiously, and when he was caught he looked away. He stepped closer to Henry’s side, but Henry began to walk forward.

Vinnie had to jog to keep up with Henry’s long strides towards the very back of the club. Men dressed in very open collared shirts (to show off their curls of chest hair) and high waisted pants watched them both. They turned their heads to follow Vinnie, and Vinnie eyed them on passing with a pink face. He wondered  if Henry too had a chest thick with hair. He wondered if his hair was curly and came up to his throat, or if he only had light speckles up his stomach. Jareth’s chest hair was quite tame. In fact, he barely had any at all, like Vinnie.

 It was then that Vinnie began to notice some men were frowning at him. They would lean to the side and speak under their breath, or cock a brow at him. Vinnie put his head down as he followed Henry.

Henry cut through the blue tape box on the floor, hopped after tripping over his own toe, then turned back and grinned at Vinnie. Vinnie smiled, then dropped it when Henry looked away.

At the very back of the club- where Henry marched towards- was a red curtain. When they reached the red curtain, Henry peeled it open just enough to fit his head in.

“Knock knock,” he said, and there was a scuffle of excitement.

“Henry, some of us are changing!”

“Hello Henry,””

“Hii Henry,”

Henry peeled open the curtain and stepped inside.

The club had made a make-shift dressing room using the curtain as a wall, which created a confined hallway where queens sat in front of mirrors lined with lightbulbs. They sat perched on their chairs and did their make up, or sipped their drinks, or smiled at Henry. It was very warm, and a woman with a large blonde wig was fanning herself with a feather tipped fan. 

For some time Henry spoke with them and they doted over him. Then, a woman in a skin-tight “Coca Cola” dress pointed at Vinnie with a white painted nail. She had a wig of tight black curls and wore very blue eyeshadow.

“Hello there, yes I see you,” She said. She wore bright red lipstick, which made her teeth look white.  “Come in, lurker.”

“Don’t be shy!” 

“Oh he’s scared, haha,”

“I would be too honey,”

“Hello there,”

Henry opened his arm to Vinnie and placed his long fingers on Vinnie’s shoulder. He pulled him into the hot dressing room to show him to the queens.

“Say hello, Mouse,” he said.

“Hello,”

Everyone cooed, or giggled, and Vinnie was unsure how he felt about it.

“You are so cute,” the woman in the Coca Cola dress said. “Mouse is a unique stage name, but we can try and fit you in somewhere.”

“Oh!” Said Vinnie,“No, I’m not performing!”

Everyone laughed.

“I know baby, I’m joking.” Miss Coca Cola said, and she briefly placed her hand on Vinnie’s shoulder. “I’m Sherley Temple, I’m the manager.”

“That’s why she always gets first place,” commented the woman in the large blonde wig.

“I’m Vincent,” Vinnie replied, and he offered her his hand.

Sherley grinned wide at him as though she was very amused, and she took Vinnie’s hand. Sherley’s hand was considerably larger, and when they had finished shaking Vinnie slipped both hands in his pockets.

It somehow became that Henry was sent on a drink run, and Vinnie was sat down in a metal fold-up chair beside Sherley’s and Custard’s mirrors while Sherley pinned her wig in the mirror and Custard fanned herself.

“How’d you meet Henry?” Custard- the woman with the large blonde hair- asked. Vinnie was frightened briefly by her deep voice.

“He met with me in the park,” Vinnie replied.

“When was that?” Sherley asked.

“Only yesterday, I suppose,” 

Both Custard and Sherley eyed one another in a knowing way, a way that Vinnie was not in on. He looked down at his hands, and when they recognized his silence Custard quickly spoke again.

“What do you do for work?”

“I’m a musician,” Vinnie replied.

“Oh! A musician!” Another queen said, and she turned her chair to face them. She had a white wig styled like Marilyn Monroe with makeup to match. Yet, she had a thick brown mustache. “What do you play?”

“Oh, all sorts of things…” Vinnie muttered, and he began to smile.

“What sorts? Guitar?”

“Yes,” Vinnie said. “Sometimes.” 

“What else?”

“Well, it’s quite a lot and it would be rude to list them. I’m learning harp now, though.”

“Oh the harp! That’s lovely, I wish Phoenix were here tonight. We’ve got a pianist that plays here, Vincent,  you’d love him, he’s a darling.”

“I’m sure I would,” Vinnie said.

“So you’re in a band?” asked Sherley.

Vinnie smiled at her. He was suddenly filled with an immense joy that he so rarely got. He pictured the three of them shocked and clutching their pearls, and they would stare, and they would smile, and they would get excited to ask him questions. How amazing Vinnie was to work with Jareth.

“No, I’m in an orchestra,” Vinnie said. He looked down at his hands again.

“Oooh, how posh,” replied Custard. 

It was then that Henry peeled open the curtain again, this time holding a tray of drinks. Nail-painted hands reached for the glasses and plucked them from the tray as he passed, and when he arrived to Vinnie he had only one champagne glass left. He sat down in an open chair and began to sip it.

“Vinnie,” said Sherley, “Why don’t you play the piano for us tonight?”

“Oh… I don’t know about all that, I’d need a few drinks,” Vinnie replied, and the queens laughed. “Really, I’m alright.”

“How about something else then? You don’t bring any instruments with you places?”

“No, no of course not… Well, except for my cello,” said Vinnie. Everyone laughed.

“Henry, your Vincent is so charming!” Sherley said. “You really ought to keep this one, I’d say.”

Vinnie looked at Henry.

“Yes, well, everyone from Liverpool thinks they’re comedians,” Henry replied.

“I have to say,” Custard started, “I’ve never seen a woman in drag. I could hardly tell. It took me a minute.”

Vinnie’s smile dropped fully. He sat with complete stillness and only stared at Custard with an expression of great alarm. 

Vinnie could hear Henry turn his full body to look at his face. Vinnie’s neck was hot under his collar, and his face was tingling. He wondered how pink he looked, and if it was noticeable against the pink suit he had chosen. He pictured himself standing in the boxy, bulky pink suit that was too large for his shoulders yet clung tight around his hips.

He could feel the fabric of his pants straining where his legs were crossed at the knees, and how his toes did not reach the end of his shoe tips. He looked briefly at Henry, who perhaps would say something. Rather, Henry only studied Vinnie’s face with furrowed brows.

“I’m not in drag,” Vinnie said.

“Oh!... I’m sorry, are you a uh- las- lesbian?”

Sherley smacked Custard's arm.

“You’re one of those transsexuals,” said the queen with the mustache. She pointed at Vinnie with the hand that was holding her champagne glass. “A woman who lives as a man.”

Vinnie did not reply. For a while everyone watched him.

“Every day?” Asked Custard.

“Yes,” Vinnie replied.

“Is it a wig?”

“No,” Vinnie replied.

“Oh no! Your poor hair!” 

“Don’t you get scared?” asked Sherley.

“Sometimes,” Vinnie replied.

Henry stood, and he took Vinnie’s shoulder in his hand. 

“Alright, I’d say that’s enough,” Henry said.

Vinnie looked up at Henry, who was not looking back at him. His hand was firm against Vinnie’s shoulder, and Vinnie felt that perhaps Henry was saving him.

He stood, and Henry held his forearm to guide him away.

Henry opened the curtain and emerged with Vinnie. They walked from the red velvet curtains across the floor, over the blue tape stage, and around a table of men smoking their cigs. They turned their heads to watch. 

“Thank you,” Vinnie said, quickly. They did not stop moving.

The music from the band went from in front of Vinnie to behind him, and suddenly they were at the stairs. Vinnie gently pulled his arm back, and Henry let go of him.

“Thank you,” Vinnie said, “we don’t have to leave, really. I’m sorry.”

Henry suddenly turned to look at Vinnie while he stood on the first step of the stairs. He had nothing to say, and Vinnie suddenly felt frightened. 

In Henry’s furrowed brows and black eyes was malice, contempt. He looked down at Vinnie with such sudden disgust that Vinnie’s heart began to pump more feverishly against his chest. He now understood.

“I’m so sorry Henry,” he said, quickly.

“I can’t hear you,” Henry replied, and began up the stairs.

The bell dinged from the fabric shop door. Vinnie jogged to catch up to Henry, then he slowed to a speed walk just behind the taller man. Their shoes clacked against the slick sidewalk as it had drizzled since they had gone inside. The streets reflected the black sky.

“I’m sorry,” Vinnie said.

“What?” Henry asked. “You always mumble.”

“I thought you knew. You told me you fancied transexuals.”

“Yes, male transexuals,” said Henry, and they turned a corner. “Did you not understand I’m a homosexual?” He turned to look back at Vinnie while still walking.

Vinnie did not reply.

“What you’re doing is cruel, you’ve gone and wasted my time- and embarrassed me.”

“I thought you knew.”

Henry stopped and turned his body to face Vinnie. He held up both hands in a motion of fake strangling with wide eyes and curled fingers. Then he dropped them and sighed through his nose. Vinnie could see he was grinding his teeth by how his jaw moved.

Never had Vinnie felt such terror.

“Why would you do this? Why don’t you go on and get with a heterosexual then?” He asked.

“I don’t know,” Vinnie replied, quietly. “… I’m not a woman.”

Henry scoffed and ran his hand through his own hair.

“No homosexual will ever be with you.”

Henry shook his head at Vinnie then turned to cross the street. Vinnie watched him, and as Henry tripped on the curb Vinnie felt a great sense of dread settle in his chest.
He walked home alone in his pink suit.

Despite being between albums and finished with touring for “To Thine Own Self”, Cole insisted that they perform something “polite” at the London Coliseum Opera within the next month. So, on a Saturday, morning the band and production arrived early at the opera house to stage block the performance and place for lighting.

Vinnie had helped pack his several instruments into the Gublenn Co van, then sat in the back of a limousine with Richard and Jareth while Cole critiqued Nigel’s driving. Richard was too tired to ridicule Cole, and too sad that his wife did not join them.
Jareth had nothing to say to anyone, and this morning Vinnie didn't have anything to say either.

When they arrived Cole stood with his hands on his hips and looked terribly proud about the stage. He then voiced how he fancied the dark teal curtains while running his gloved hands down the velvety fabric. Nigel and Richard heckled him in the front row. Vinnie sat with them, but he was not involved. 

Vinnie instead had his head leaned back looking up at the massive golden chandelier that hung from the ceiling. It glistened when he unfocused his eyes.

He thought of Henry’s face. He thought about his yellowed teeth, and his large ears, and his gummy smile, and his black eyes. He thought about Henry with his hands up at him, fingers curled. 

He closed his eyes and swallowed thickly, then opened them again to gaze at the twinkling chandelier. And he worried, deeply.

Then, he wondered where Jareth was.

Vinnie sat up and began to turn his head to inspect the grand auditorium. Jareth was not sitting in the audience. Rather, Vinnie caught him standing in one of the VIP booths with his ring-covered fingers on the railing. He was not looking at Cole, but rather, he was looking at Vinnie. Or perhaps at Nigel and Richard, it was hard to say.

He was terribly beautiful at a distance. He seemed to glow this morning, as he so often did.

Jareth looked away, and so too did Vinnie. But when Vinnie looked back a moment later, Jareth had gone away to sit down in one of the chairs up there.

Vinnie sighed long through his nose. He had never once seen Jareth take a lover, and he often pictured him making love to some woman in a hotel room. Sometimes, when it was very late and Vinnie felt unwatched in his flat, he would imagine Jareth in bed with a man. Though oftentimes he would feel ashamed and he would stop.

Vinnie stood from his seat and eyed Cole (who had his back turned) then began to walk away from the lads to head up the stairs on the side of the auditorium. His absence went unnoticed. 

He managed to find his way back to the front of the house and to the VIP section blocked by two swinging doors. He went up another set of curved green stairs before arriving at the dimly lit booth. It was encased, and private, and made Cole’s instructions from below sound echoed. Jareth was sitting in one of the five plush chairs with his legs crossed and his hands folded over his lap. Vinnie sniffed to announce himself, then walked around to sit one chair away from Jareth. 

Jareth did not look at Vinnie, but his pearls clacked when he shifted. He was as handsome up close as at a distance. Vinnie watched his long lashes and the curve of his nose bridge. Today, Vinnie felt solemn while staring at Jareth.

“Richard and Dalia seem rather happy,” Jareth said.

“Oh, yes,” Vinnie replied.

“Cole and Lori are not.”

“... I’m not certain, no,” Vinnie said.

“Would you like to marry?” Jareth asked.

Vinnie looked away from Jareth to gaze at the chandelier instead.

“I don’t know,” he said. Jareth turned his head to look at Vinnie, and Vinnie did not look back. He wondered if his jawline looked as soft as it did in the mirror from the side. Jareth said nothing more and waited, so Vinnie continued. “I don’t think I'm the type someone would like to marry. I haven’t got the right parts for anyone.”

Jareth thought for a while, then he asked:

“The right parts?”

"Yes," Vinnie said. Jareth stared at him so he felt he should continue. "I don't appeal to anyone, is all. On either side, man or woman.” Vinnie said. He suddenly felt a great shame for having brought attention to it, and he refrained from crossing one leg over the other to hide.

"How do you mean?" Jareth asked, and Vinnie felt his neck and ears begin to get hot.

"I'm not shaped how either side wants me to be," he said.

Both men sat silently together for some time. Jareth thought, and Vinnie unfocused his eyes at the chandelier while his chest swirled with shame.

“I don’t think that matters, really,” Jareth said.

Vinnie turned his head to look at Jareth, who was looking back at him, then suddenly at his shoulder. instead Vinnie was unsure how to respond, and so he didn’t. 

Jareth was perhaps the most lovely, most gentle mouthed man Vinnie had ever met. Vinnie had known this since he first began working with Jareth, who surprised him greatly by his understanding. He was not, infact, a diva.

And now, as Vinnie looked at Jareth, he felt now more than he ever had that perhaps Jareth could be in love with him. Perhaps.

“Really?” Vinnie asked.

Jareth nodded and spoke quietly, “It doesn’t matter.”

“Jareth!” Cole called from the stage.

Richard and Nigel immediately assisted by calling out for Jareth as well.

“Quiet!”

Jareth stood and placed a hand on the railing. He waited to be seen rather than calling back.

“Come down, I’d like to start placing for lighting,” Cole said.

Jareth turned to walk out of the booth without looking at Vinnie. Vinnie craned his neck to watch him leave.