JO/GAGA - The Ugly Duckling and her Collection of Wigs (oneshot)
Title::..The Ugly Duckling and her Collection of Wigs
Rating::..M for drug use and coarse language
Genre::..Drama and romance
Characters::..Lady Gaga and Jo Calderone
Author’s Note::..The title was inspired by Lady Gaga’s explanation of the swan scene in the Applause music video; she said they used the makeup to create the image of her being an ugly duckling. The second half was inspired by a quote from her recent cover story with V Magazine, in which she claimed her life had become ‘The Silence of the Wigs’. The two ended up marrying well and are explored throughout the story.
This piece begins with Gaga as a young woman (even referencing her days as Stefani at high school), then progresses to The Fame-era before branching out into the ARTPOP-era. This is my first ever fic covering the brand new era and I was quite excited to write it.
The final scene is based during the filming of the lyric video for Applause, if you haven’t seen it yet it will help you get into the scene more. If you have already seen it? Go watch it again! It’s that good; I could watch it five million times and never get bored. It’s one of my favourite things Gaga has ever done. I can’t believe how long it took me to include Drag Queens into a fic about Gaga but here it finally is.
Summary::..A retrospective through Lady Gaga’s journey of learning to love herself.
Lady Gaga had always been unsure of her beauty, insecure in her appearance. The wigs and makeup had provided her with a way to mask all of this, a way to create something that she thought better fit in with society’s idea of glamour. But some days she doubted even this, the image she had invented for herself, wondering if she were destined to spend the rest of her life as an ugly duckling.
This had all begun during her time at school. Her large nose and slightly-thicker body had set her apart from the other girls. They had small noses, thin and athletic bodies with perfect long hair. They didn’t have to try to be pretty, they had been born into that exclusive club of beautiful people and popularity came along with this.
They didn’t like how little Stefani had looked different to them and so had reminded her of this on a daily basis. They had teased her about her prominent nose and bragged about their tiny waistlines in front of her. They had always been surrounded by friends, laughing and looking like they had just stepped out of an ad campaign, even in the lifeless Catholic school uniform. All of the pretty girls had been the first to get boyfriends, showing off the presents gifted by these young men as trophies (as they, in turn, would become the trophies later in life).
Witnessing all of this day-after-day altered Gaga’s view of the world. The attractive girls always got picked for teams first in gym class and they appeared to be dripping with expensive jewellery. It seemed to her that they were worth more than her somehow. Their genes had marked them out as more important than the loner drama geek.
Grasping any feelings of self-worth had been near impossible once her peers had literally put her out with the garbage. Young and confused she had searched for this validation from outside parties. But no man was ever able to make her feel like she was gorgeous enough to be part of that popular group. They would tell her she was pretty a few times to loosen her belt, but none truly made her feel it, as she ached for it. It left her hollow, more lost and insecure than ever.
Any kind of self-worth couldn’t be pulled from exterior influences, she was beginning to realise by her earlier twenties. She had to find it in herself, through the things she was passionate about. She dedicated every waking moment to nurturing her talent. She felt closer to figuring out who she was in this world, beyond the names she had been called and those who had used her. Music was the great escape.
She gave up on the pipedream of being a traditional beauty. Instead she embraced the imagery that suited her and her theatrical personality. She felt at home with glam rock, applying numerous layers of makeup and wearing high heels everywhere. She created the persona of a superstar with her dramatic blonde hair and she felt she was living up to it. Most days she thought she was on the right track.
The blonde hair and the refusal to ever wear pants earned her a lot of attention. But none of these men wanted to take her home and make an honest woman of her. They only wanted one thing from her and she provided it, telling herself it was all in fun. Men drifted in-and-out of her life, never staying for very long. She reminded herself that every pop diva needed sex appeal, trying not to let her feelings be hurt when men treated her as an object, paying no attention to her emotions.
The only men to play a truly important role in her life were the ones who enjoyed playing with makeup as much as her. She met a lot of Drag Queens due to all of the gay bars she and Lady Starlight got booked to play. There was a quick connection between them, as if they understood one another immediately.
The Queens always got Gaga’s references and they understood why she needed the references. A lot of them were damaged goods, just like her. They were looking for an escape from their insecurities and they found it on the stage. They believed with the right amount of makeup all issues could be forgotten. The stage and its promise of applause was redemption. Performing was the church the confessed their sins and found salvation in. This was the religion Gaga had known all along, now she had a whole congregation to worship with.
The Queens appreciated and understood her look. They knew she didn’t just wear bikinis to look sexy. She did it to be provocative, to defy society’s conventions. It wasn’t just about looking hot; it was to create a spectacle.
One of her closest friends, a Queen who performed under the name Paris Wilde, decided Gaga’s style was so distinctive and ahead of the curve that it needed an entirely original title. Paris declared the look to be that of an ‘Astro Hooker’. Gaga supposed this was the idea she had been chasing all along - Ziggy Stardust would be proud.
Most nights Gaga would be afraid to take her makeup off at the end of the show. She felt scared to be anything other than the Astro Hooker. An awful voice in her head told her that the person she was beneath the disco bra wasn’t enough. She feared no one would have any time for the girl underneath, just as there had been no one willing to pay attention to her during high school. The dark voice said that she was unworthy now, as she had been back then. But now it wasn’t the cool girls’ friendship she was unworthy of, it was a long-term boyfriend and a record deal. She painted herself back up as the Astro Hooker so she could feel brave enough to go on stage again.
There were other nights where she would arrive at her tiny apartment and spend hours bouncing off the walls. Despite the long and exhaustive day she’d had, she would find herself unable to sleep. Then her mind would begin to wander and the paths it led her down weren’t always pleasant.
She thought she was building a wall around herself, the Great Wall of Gaga. Instead of being made of bricks she was making this wall out of clothes, fake lashes, wigs and high heels. It was a shield she had constructed to protect her from her insecurities.
She wasn’t sure she knew how to lower the shield or even if she wanted to. If she let someone into her heart she risked them destroying her, when she already felt fragile. She was alone at night because she didn’t know how to let any man beyond her defences, nor had any man tried.
She drew up a couple of lines of cocaine and blasted her heavy metal collection. Sitting in front of the mirror she created new designs on her face, hoping for the confusion and fear to leave her alone. Was she good enough, she still didn’t know.
*
When fame came so did the fans, which Gaga hadn’t been prepared for. She hadn’t been cocky enough to expect this and now she had it she was very overwhelmed by it all. It was mind-blowing to attempt to grasp that this enthusiastic and widespread support was now part of her life.
She could hardly believe it when they started dressing like her. It was still so early in her career; she didn’t think she was at that level of icon just yet. It was extremely flattering as she and the Haus of Gaga had worked hard on all of her outfits. It was good to see her interest in the presentation of pop music spreading.
They would come backstage at the end of the Fame Ball and she began to notice a trend among the glitter-covered kids. The majority were joyful, grinning from ear-to-ear as they told her about their favourite parts of the show. They were very creative, presenting her with incredible art. They made her clothes and sang to her.
A lot were troubled. They trembled, shaking like a leaf when it was their time to interact with her. She had learnt to keep tissues at hand. They told her about how there was a lot of drama in their lives but her music gave them escape and made them happy. They spoke of waiting for the concert to arrive so they would have the opportunity to dress as themselves and let loose.
She saw a lot of herself in these members of the fan-base. They were lost and confused out in the world, looking for a place to belong. She related to how they used their clothing to express themselves and to find a sense of freedom. Their friends and families thought they were freaks, but at her show they felt like the cool kids. These were the ones she hugged extra tight.
From the beginning she had seen how dedicated they were and it had made her want to dedicate herself even more, to the music and to them. Soon she gave an exclusive name to their club, allowing them a place to belong as they had given her; no matter where she went in the world she knew they would be there to support her.
She didn’t love them because they supported her music; she loved them because they understood her. They accepted her and were always there to celebrate with her.
She had never known a love like this before. They didn’t want to take anything from her or to use her; they only wanted to share in her creativity. There weren’t any mind games or the struggle for power that she had known in past relationships. There was only an easy exchange of love, adoration and support. It was pure and an all-healing force in her life.
They gave her a self-confidence she could never have imagined before. They made her feel like a beauty queen, accepting all of her imperfections while still declaring her to be perfect. They lifted her to a place beyond her insecurities and now she could create more recklessly than ever before. She couldn’t doubt herself, not anymore, not while she had so many of them in her corner.
They had saved her from herself and she could never repay them for that. No matter what she always wanted to do better for them. They inspired her to dance harder. They made her want to spend more time in the studio making new music for them because they deserved it.
She loved them unconditionally and she thought she would never be lonely with them now a constant presence in her life.
Romantic love was far more complicated and whenever she tried to figure it out it usually ended with her getting hurt. For now, she was happy to dedicate herself solely to the Monsters.
*
The Little Monsters had found the key to her heart. Whatever defences others had been intimidated by, the Monsters had defeated them all seemingly without trying. The walls she had built to protect herself were pointless now. There was nothing to be afraid of anymore - they had helped her to overcome her fear of love, she didn’t view it as a villain that would destroy her any longer. She could forever set aside her nightmares of dying lonely. She could take her wigs off and not feel scared of the girl underneath because of them.
It took a while before this success translated into her love life. Men thought she was super interesting to begin with; they were intrigued by her creativity. It always started out great, they wanted to know all about her craft and they wanted to be part of her life.
Then they would get into the habit of calling her unusual without meaning it in a complimentary manner. She would notice them rolling their eyes in response to some of her fashion decisions. They would complain about never getting to see her because she spent too much time in the studio.
They didn’t succeed in making her feel beautiful for very long, not when she caught them checking out more normal-looking girls. What they had at first viewed as an awesome and unique way of dressing became annoying, she was a pain to attempt to undress and it was unsexy.
She couldn’t please them for long; sooner or later the novelty wore off. She thought about the girls she had attended school with, she didn’t imagine they would encounter any difficulties in keeping a man. She had pondered dressing like one of those girls. She could buy dresses from common shops in the mall; pour her body into the boring yet binding material. She could push her tits up and wear normal coloured hair. She could keep high heels for special nights out and not make dresses out of raw meat. She could become one of those women a man looked forward to taking to meet his family, without the fear of her reputation preceding her.
When she was younger and more impressionable she might have fallen down that path. She had hated being a loser and felt petrified of being alone for her whole life. She might have been desperate enough to change herself to make someone else happy because she thought her happiness in life had to come from a man.
But the ugly duckling had achieved a lot by being herself and celebrating what made her happy. The Monsters had shown her there was nothing wrong with being herself - trailing eccentric dresses around with her and changing her wig every five hours. It had been a long journey to come to accept herself, but now she knew she was on the right track, she could feel it in her bones.
The challenge was no longer to look at herself in the mirror; it had changed to finding a partner who was as bonkers as her. She had to find a guy who shared her interests and passions, but a guy that had those things and wasn’t into other dudes wasn’t an easy thing to find. It seemed she was destined to spend the rest of her life with her gay friends and her fans, part of her was certain she would be okay if this occurred.
The doubtful side of her had sought out Jo Calderone. It had knocked her off of her feet; she hadn’t been expecting to fall for the scrawny guy cast in one of her music videos.
She had never been hit by a bus before, but she felt she had some idea of what it was like when she was with Jo. She lost any kind of control, falling at the mercy to forces outside of herself. Afterwards it left her feeling dazed and confused, especially at the start. Sometimes it hurt, but it always proved to be worth it.
He didn’t expect or even want her to look like a swimsuit model. He had been a misfit for most of his life. He had been the shortest guy at his school, he wasn’t athletic like the lusted-after jocks and hadn’t had the confidence required to rule the school. He had always marched to the beat of his own drum and so appreciated her determination to push the boundaries of what was deemed by the masses as acceptable. The weirder she was the more excited he got.
She must have done the casting for the Yoü and I video with her downstairs brain because he was exactly her type, which had not been her original intention. He wore leather jackets and had a large supply of band tee-shirts for her to borrow. His hair was forever an untamed mess. He was gloriously alternative, riding his skateboard everywhere, wearing his Converse sneakers to death and looking displeased with everything. He listened to heavy metal and loved horror films. He was a friend of Nick Knight, the genius fashion photographer Gaga had been working with since the first Monster Ball, and at the time of casting she had decided with her head, declaring Jo to have the right look for the video. In hindsight she acknowledged that the decision hadn’t come from her head, it had come from further south.
Either way, it had turned out for the best. The video had been a triumph and at the end of it they had fallen into bed together.
Ever since then he had jumped onto the crazy bandwagon that was her life and they had been going from strength-to-strength. Somehow he just got all of it straight away; it was as if he had attended an induction day all of the other guys had skipped. He didn’t want to change her or cage her in anyway. He stood back, allowing her enough space to fly, but remained close enough to catch her if ever she should fall. It was instinctual with him; she didn’t have to spend hours explaining it all to him.
He was an introverted guy but this didn’t mean he was afraid of new things; alternately he always rose up to meet challenges. Some heterosexual men would have found visiting a Drag club too confronting. A serious threat to their sexuality that would make them feel extremely uncomfortable.
Not Jo. He had come to accept Drag Queens would be part of his life for as long as he called himself Gaga’s boyfriend. He enjoyed their crass sense of humour. He was looking forward to their visit to Micky’s, refusing to miss out on this fun night with the Haus of Gaga.
Before her friends arrived to help her get ready Gaga was soaking in the large bathtub. She was taking this opportunity to properly reflect on everything that had happened today. She was so happy the world finally had the first song from ARTPOP. It had been an incredible day, sharing in everyone’s excitement. Despite having returned to the hotel four hours ago she was still smiling to herself over it.
Jo appeared in the bathroom, holding a pair of pants up for her to inspect. “Are these pants okay for tonight?”
They appeared to be clean and they were one of his less tattered pairs. “Yeah. Wait, why are you asking me to approve clothes? We’re only going to a club; you can wear whatever you want.”
“I wanna look good for the Queens.” He stated.
“What?” Her surprised voice echoed in the tiled room. “Is there something you need to tell me Jo, something you should have told me two years ago?”
“Hilarious.” He commented sarcastically. “I meant, I know they’re gonna be judging what I’m wearing and I don’t want to embarrass you. Not that anyone will be able to see anything other than you, but…”
“The pants are fine.” She assured him.
He never tried to keep her all to himself, he didn’t hog her attention. He didn’t complain when she left him behind to mingle with other people. He wasn’t a leech the way her past boyfriends had been.
Micky’s was alive with activity and there was a lot for Gaga to get distracted by, preventing her from spending the whole night in Jo’s lap. She was so excited to meet many of the Queens she had admired from their appearances on Drag Race. She had to go backstage to do some filming for the lyric video and helped a couple of the performers with their Applause makeup.
She lost herself in the thrill of the night. She couldn’t be a passive audience member, jumping up onto the stage to get better angles, all the while singing and dancing. She couldn’t resist the elation of the audience and the enthusiasm of the performers. At times she forgot all about filming, having too much fun to care about the video.
Whenever she spotted Jo among the crowd it was always to find his eyes on her. It appeared he was having a good time as well, a smile on his face and a cheerful sparkle in his eyes. He wasn’t looking at her with any expectations or malicious intent, yet she felt nervous meeting his eyes. It was a good and giddy nervousness as she wondered what thoughts were filling his mischievous mind. It didn’t matter how long they had been together, his ability to make her weak at the knees never lost its strength.
Out of breath she left her position at the back of the stage, going back to the seats occupied by her friends. They were discussing the talent on show tonight, everyone thoroughly enjoying themselves.
She excused herself to get a drink, heading for the bar, to satisfy her terribly dry mouth. No one bothered her much and the staff acted casual, treating her as a normal customer, which was the way she liked it.
As she waited for her drink to get made a pair of arms wrapped around her from behind. It took her a moment to realise the shoes only inches from her own belonged to Jo. He squeezed her tightly, bringing their bodies together. He kissed the back of her neck, ravishing the bare flesh.
“You’re so sexy tonight.” He whispered into her ear.
She turned to him, a little doubtful. “Really?”
He hesitated for a second, which she had expected. “You look like you’ve been gang-banged by a box of crayons.” She laughed; he never failed to amuse her with his take on her makeup. “But that’s not what I’m talking about. I mean your spirit, you’re so full of joy, it’s intoxicating, it’s beautiful. I could watch you all night.”
She felt very bashful. “Are you just saying all of this because of the way the King was all up on my tits?”
“Don’t do that; don’t try to turn what I’m saying into a joke. Don’t act like you aren’t the most gorgeous woman in the world.” He said.
She felt her heart melt as they stood stomach-to-stomach. She had forgotten about the rest of the club, she could hardly hear the music anymore. Under his gaze she felt like the only woman in the world, the only woman he had ever loved like this.
“Wow.” She admired, breathless all over again. “You are so getting laid tonight.”
“Fuck yeah!” He cheered, pumping his fist into the air above their heads.
She laughed as she flung her arms around his neck, bringing him in for a kiss. As they went on kissing he lifted her off the ground and she kicked her feet gleefully into the air.
He made her feel like a queen. He made her feel the title of Prom Queen she had never dreamed of winning in school. She felt weightless, released from the chains of her past suffering. None of that mattered anymore; she was separate from it all. She was free to enjoy every magical moment of this relationship.
Unashamed they kissed one another passionately, her red lipstick transferring to his naked face as his tongue explored her mouth. They carried on, not thinking to stop until one of the Drag Queens heckled them, yelling at them to get a room.
The End.
Rating::..M for drug use and coarse language
Genre::..Drama and romance
Characters::..Lady Gaga and Jo Calderone
Author’s Note::..The title was inspired by Lady Gaga’s explanation of the swan scene in the Applause music video; she said they used the makeup to create the image of her being an ugly duckling. The second half was inspired by a quote from her recent cover story with V Magazine, in which she claimed her life had become ‘The Silence of the Wigs’. The two ended up marrying well and are explored throughout the story.
This piece begins with Gaga as a young woman (even referencing her days as Stefani at high school), then progresses to The Fame-era before branching out into the ARTPOP-era. This is my first ever fic covering the brand new era and I was quite excited to write it.
The final scene is based during the filming of the lyric video for Applause, if you haven’t seen it yet it will help you get into the scene more. If you have already seen it? Go watch it again! It’s that good; I could watch it five million times and never get bored. It’s one of my favourite things Gaga has ever done. I can’t believe how long it took me to include Drag Queens into a fic about Gaga but here it finally is.
Summary::..A retrospective through Lady Gaga’s journey of learning to love herself.
Lady Gaga had always been unsure of her beauty, insecure in her appearance. The wigs and makeup had provided her with a way to mask all of this, a way to create something that she thought better fit in with society’s idea of glamour. But some days she doubted even this, the image she had invented for herself, wondering if she were destined to spend the rest of her life as an ugly duckling.
This had all begun during her time at school. Her large nose and slightly-thicker body had set her apart from the other girls. They had small noses, thin and athletic bodies with perfect long hair. They didn’t have to try to be pretty, they had been born into that exclusive club of beautiful people and popularity came along with this.
They didn’t like how little Stefani had looked different to them and so had reminded her of this on a daily basis. They had teased her about her prominent nose and bragged about their tiny waistlines in front of her. They had always been surrounded by friends, laughing and looking like they had just stepped out of an ad campaign, even in the lifeless Catholic school uniform. All of the pretty girls had been the first to get boyfriends, showing off the presents gifted by these young men as trophies (as they, in turn, would become the trophies later in life).
Witnessing all of this day-after-day altered Gaga’s view of the world. The attractive girls always got picked for teams first in gym class and they appeared to be dripping with expensive jewellery. It seemed to her that they were worth more than her somehow. Their genes had marked them out as more important than the loner drama geek.
Grasping any feelings of self-worth had been near impossible once her peers had literally put her out with the garbage. Young and confused she had searched for this validation from outside parties. But no man was ever able to make her feel like she was gorgeous enough to be part of that popular group. They would tell her she was pretty a few times to loosen her belt, but none truly made her feel it, as she ached for it. It left her hollow, more lost and insecure than ever.
Any kind of self-worth couldn’t be pulled from exterior influences, she was beginning to realise by her earlier twenties. She had to find it in herself, through the things she was passionate about. She dedicated every waking moment to nurturing her talent. She felt closer to figuring out who she was in this world, beyond the names she had been called and those who had used her. Music was the great escape.
She gave up on the pipedream of being a traditional beauty. Instead she embraced the imagery that suited her and her theatrical personality. She felt at home with glam rock, applying numerous layers of makeup and wearing high heels everywhere. She created the persona of a superstar with her dramatic blonde hair and she felt she was living up to it. Most days she thought she was on the right track.
The blonde hair and the refusal to ever wear pants earned her a lot of attention. But none of these men wanted to take her home and make an honest woman of her. They only wanted one thing from her and she provided it, telling herself it was all in fun. Men drifted in-and-out of her life, never staying for very long. She reminded herself that every pop diva needed sex appeal, trying not to let her feelings be hurt when men treated her as an object, paying no attention to her emotions.
The only men to play a truly important role in her life were the ones who enjoyed playing with makeup as much as her. She met a lot of Drag Queens due to all of the gay bars she and Lady Starlight got booked to play. There was a quick connection between them, as if they understood one another immediately.
The Queens always got Gaga’s references and they understood why she needed the references. A lot of them were damaged goods, just like her. They were looking for an escape from their insecurities and they found it on the stage. They believed with the right amount of makeup all issues could be forgotten. The stage and its promise of applause was redemption. Performing was the church the confessed their sins and found salvation in. This was the religion Gaga had known all along, now she had a whole congregation to worship with.
The Queens appreciated and understood her look. They knew she didn’t just wear bikinis to look sexy. She did it to be provocative, to defy society’s conventions. It wasn’t just about looking hot; it was to create a spectacle.
One of her closest friends, a Queen who performed under the name Paris Wilde, decided Gaga’s style was so distinctive and ahead of the curve that it needed an entirely original title. Paris declared the look to be that of an ‘Astro Hooker’. Gaga supposed this was the idea she had been chasing all along - Ziggy Stardust would be proud.
Most nights Gaga would be afraid to take her makeup off at the end of the show. She felt scared to be anything other than the Astro Hooker. An awful voice in her head told her that the person she was beneath the disco bra wasn’t enough. She feared no one would have any time for the girl underneath, just as there had been no one willing to pay attention to her during high school. The dark voice said that she was unworthy now, as she had been back then. But now it wasn’t the cool girls’ friendship she was unworthy of, it was a long-term boyfriend and a record deal. She painted herself back up as the Astro Hooker so she could feel brave enough to go on stage again.
There were other nights where she would arrive at her tiny apartment and spend hours bouncing off the walls. Despite the long and exhaustive day she’d had, she would find herself unable to sleep. Then her mind would begin to wander and the paths it led her down weren’t always pleasant.
She thought she was building a wall around herself, the Great Wall of Gaga. Instead of being made of bricks she was making this wall out of clothes, fake lashes, wigs and high heels. It was a shield she had constructed to protect her from her insecurities.
She wasn’t sure she knew how to lower the shield or even if she wanted to. If she let someone into her heart she risked them destroying her, when she already felt fragile. She was alone at night because she didn’t know how to let any man beyond her defences, nor had any man tried.
She drew up a couple of lines of cocaine and blasted her heavy metal collection. Sitting in front of the mirror she created new designs on her face, hoping for the confusion and fear to leave her alone. Was she good enough, she still didn’t know.
*
When fame came so did the fans, which Gaga hadn’t been prepared for. She hadn’t been cocky enough to expect this and now she had it she was very overwhelmed by it all. It was mind-blowing to attempt to grasp that this enthusiastic and widespread support was now part of her life.
She could hardly believe it when they started dressing like her. It was still so early in her career; she didn’t think she was at that level of icon just yet. It was extremely flattering as she and the Haus of Gaga had worked hard on all of her outfits. It was good to see her interest in the presentation of pop music spreading.
They would come backstage at the end of the Fame Ball and she began to notice a trend among the glitter-covered kids. The majority were joyful, grinning from ear-to-ear as they told her about their favourite parts of the show. They were very creative, presenting her with incredible art. They made her clothes and sang to her.
A lot were troubled. They trembled, shaking like a leaf when it was their time to interact with her. She had learnt to keep tissues at hand. They told her about how there was a lot of drama in their lives but her music gave them escape and made them happy. They spoke of waiting for the concert to arrive so they would have the opportunity to dress as themselves and let loose.
She saw a lot of herself in these members of the fan-base. They were lost and confused out in the world, looking for a place to belong. She related to how they used their clothing to express themselves and to find a sense of freedom. Their friends and families thought they were freaks, but at her show they felt like the cool kids. These were the ones she hugged extra tight.
From the beginning she had seen how dedicated they were and it had made her want to dedicate herself even more, to the music and to them. Soon she gave an exclusive name to their club, allowing them a place to belong as they had given her; no matter where she went in the world she knew they would be there to support her.
She didn’t love them because they supported her music; she loved them because they understood her. They accepted her and were always there to celebrate with her.
She had never known a love like this before. They didn’t want to take anything from her or to use her; they only wanted to share in her creativity. There weren’t any mind games or the struggle for power that she had known in past relationships. There was only an easy exchange of love, adoration and support. It was pure and an all-healing force in her life.
They gave her a self-confidence she could never have imagined before. They made her feel like a beauty queen, accepting all of her imperfections while still declaring her to be perfect. They lifted her to a place beyond her insecurities and now she could create more recklessly than ever before. She couldn’t doubt herself, not anymore, not while she had so many of them in her corner.
They had saved her from herself and she could never repay them for that. No matter what she always wanted to do better for them. They inspired her to dance harder. They made her want to spend more time in the studio making new music for them because they deserved it.
She loved them unconditionally and she thought she would never be lonely with them now a constant presence in her life.
Romantic love was far more complicated and whenever she tried to figure it out it usually ended with her getting hurt. For now, she was happy to dedicate herself solely to the Monsters.
*
The Little Monsters had found the key to her heart. Whatever defences others had been intimidated by, the Monsters had defeated them all seemingly without trying. The walls she had built to protect herself were pointless now. There was nothing to be afraid of anymore - they had helped her to overcome her fear of love, she didn’t view it as a villain that would destroy her any longer. She could forever set aside her nightmares of dying lonely. She could take her wigs off and not feel scared of the girl underneath because of them.
It took a while before this success translated into her love life. Men thought she was super interesting to begin with; they were intrigued by her creativity. It always started out great, they wanted to know all about her craft and they wanted to be part of her life.
Then they would get into the habit of calling her unusual without meaning it in a complimentary manner. She would notice them rolling their eyes in response to some of her fashion decisions. They would complain about never getting to see her because she spent too much time in the studio.
They didn’t succeed in making her feel beautiful for very long, not when she caught them checking out more normal-looking girls. What they had at first viewed as an awesome and unique way of dressing became annoying, she was a pain to attempt to undress and it was unsexy.
She couldn’t please them for long; sooner or later the novelty wore off. She thought about the girls she had attended school with, she didn’t imagine they would encounter any difficulties in keeping a man. She had pondered dressing like one of those girls. She could buy dresses from common shops in the mall; pour her body into the boring yet binding material. She could push her tits up and wear normal coloured hair. She could keep high heels for special nights out and not make dresses out of raw meat. She could become one of those women a man looked forward to taking to meet his family, without the fear of her reputation preceding her.
When she was younger and more impressionable she might have fallen down that path. She had hated being a loser and felt petrified of being alone for her whole life. She might have been desperate enough to change herself to make someone else happy because she thought her happiness in life had to come from a man.
But the ugly duckling had achieved a lot by being herself and celebrating what made her happy. The Monsters had shown her there was nothing wrong with being herself - trailing eccentric dresses around with her and changing her wig every five hours. It had been a long journey to come to accept herself, but now she knew she was on the right track, she could feel it in her bones.
The challenge was no longer to look at herself in the mirror; it had changed to finding a partner who was as bonkers as her. She had to find a guy who shared her interests and passions, but a guy that had those things and wasn’t into other dudes wasn’t an easy thing to find. It seemed she was destined to spend the rest of her life with her gay friends and her fans, part of her was certain she would be okay if this occurred.
The doubtful side of her had sought out Jo Calderone. It had knocked her off of her feet; she hadn’t been expecting to fall for the scrawny guy cast in one of her music videos.
She had never been hit by a bus before, but she felt she had some idea of what it was like when she was with Jo. She lost any kind of control, falling at the mercy to forces outside of herself. Afterwards it left her feeling dazed and confused, especially at the start. Sometimes it hurt, but it always proved to be worth it.
He didn’t expect or even want her to look like a swimsuit model. He had been a misfit for most of his life. He had been the shortest guy at his school, he wasn’t athletic like the lusted-after jocks and hadn’t had the confidence required to rule the school. He had always marched to the beat of his own drum and so appreciated her determination to push the boundaries of what was deemed by the masses as acceptable. The weirder she was the more excited he got.
She must have done the casting for the Yoü and I video with her downstairs brain because he was exactly her type, which had not been her original intention. He wore leather jackets and had a large supply of band tee-shirts for her to borrow. His hair was forever an untamed mess. He was gloriously alternative, riding his skateboard everywhere, wearing his Converse sneakers to death and looking displeased with everything. He listened to heavy metal and loved horror films. He was a friend of Nick Knight, the genius fashion photographer Gaga had been working with since the first Monster Ball, and at the time of casting she had decided with her head, declaring Jo to have the right look for the video. In hindsight she acknowledged that the decision hadn’t come from her head, it had come from further south.
Either way, it had turned out for the best. The video had been a triumph and at the end of it they had fallen into bed together.
Ever since then he had jumped onto the crazy bandwagon that was her life and they had been going from strength-to-strength. Somehow he just got all of it straight away; it was as if he had attended an induction day all of the other guys had skipped. He didn’t want to change her or cage her in anyway. He stood back, allowing her enough space to fly, but remained close enough to catch her if ever she should fall. It was instinctual with him; she didn’t have to spend hours explaining it all to him.
He was an introverted guy but this didn’t mean he was afraid of new things; alternately he always rose up to meet challenges. Some heterosexual men would have found visiting a Drag club too confronting. A serious threat to their sexuality that would make them feel extremely uncomfortable.
Not Jo. He had come to accept Drag Queens would be part of his life for as long as he called himself Gaga’s boyfriend. He enjoyed their crass sense of humour. He was looking forward to their visit to Micky’s, refusing to miss out on this fun night with the Haus of Gaga.
Before her friends arrived to help her get ready Gaga was soaking in the large bathtub. She was taking this opportunity to properly reflect on everything that had happened today. She was so happy the world finally had the first song from ARTPOP. It had been an incredible day, sharing in everyone’s excitement. Despite having returned to the hotel four hours ago she was still smiling to herself over it.
Jo appeared in the bathroom, holding a pair of pants up for her to inspect. “Are these pants okay for tonight?”
They appeared to be clean and they were one of his less tattered pairs. “Yeah. Wait, why are you asking me to approve clothes? We’re only going to a club; you can wear whatever you want.”
“I wanna look good for the Queens.” He stated.
“What?” Her surprised voice echoed in the tiled room. “Is there something you need to tell me Jo, something you should have told me two years ago?”
“Hilarious.” He commented sarcastically. “I meant, I know they’re gonna be judging what I’m wearing and I don’t want to embarrass you. Not that anyone will be able to see anything other than you, but…”
“The pants are fine.” She assured him.
He never tried to keep her all to himself, he didn’t hog her attention. He didn’t complain when she left him behind to mingle with other people. He wasn’t a leech the way her past boyfriends had been.
Micky’s was alive with activity and there was a lot for Gaga to get distracted by, preventing her from spending the whole night in Jo’s lap. She was so excited to meet many of the Queens she had admired from their appearances on Drag Race. She had to go backstage to do some filming for the lyric video and helped a couple of the performers with their Applause makeup.
She lost herself in the thrill of the night. She couldn’t be a passive audience member, jumping up onto the stage to get better angles, all the while singing and dancing. She couldn’t resist the elation of the audience and the enthusiasm of the performers. At times she forgot all about filming, having too much fun to care about the video.
Whenever she spotted Jo among the crowd it was always to find his eyes on her. It appeared he was having a good time as well, a smile on his face and a cheerful sparkle in his eyes. He wasn’t looking at her with any expectations or malicious intent, yet she felt nervous meeting his eyes. It was a good and giddy nervousness as she wondered what thoughts were filling his mischievous mind. It didn’t matter how long they had been together, his ability to make her weak at the knees never lost its strength.
Out of breath she left her position at the back of the stage, going back to the seats occupied by her friends. They were discussing the talent on show tonight, everyone thoroughly enjoying themselves.
She excused herself to get a drink, heading for the bar, to satisfy her terribly dry mouth. No one bothered her much and the staff acted casual, treating her as a normal customer, which was the way she liked it.
As she waited for her drink to get made a pair of arms wrapped around her from behind. It took her a moment to realise the shoes only inches from her own belonged to Jo. He squeezed her tightly, bringing their bodies together. He kissed the back of her neck, ravishing the bare flesh.
“You’re so sexy tonight.” He whispered into her ear.
She turned to him, a little doubtful. “Really?”
He hesitated for a second, which she had expected. “You look like you’ve been gang-banged by a box of crayons.” She laughed; he never failed to amuse her with his take on her makeup. “But that’s not what I’m talking about. I mean your spirit, you’re so full of joy, it’s intoxicating, it’s beautiful. I could watch you all night.”
She felt very bashful. “Are you just saying all of this because of the way the King was all up on my tits?”
“Don’t do that; don’t try to turn what I’m saying into a joke. Don’t act like you aren’t the most gorgeous woman in the world.” He said.
She felt her heart melt as they stood stomach-to-stomach. She had forgotten about the rest of the club, she could hardly hear the music anymore. Under his gaze she felt like the only woman in the world, the only woman he had ever loved like this.
“Wow.” She admired, breathless all over again. “You are so getting laid tonight.”
“Fuck yeah!” He cheered, pumping his fist into the air above their heads.
She laughed as she flung her arms around his neck, bringing him in for a kiss. As they went on kissing he lifted her off the ground and she kicked her feet gleefully into the air.
He made her feel like a queen. He made her feel the title of Prom Queen she had never dreamed of winning in school. She felt weightless, released from the chains of her past suffering. None of that mattered anymore; she was separate from it all. She was free to enjoy every magical moment of this relationship.
Unashamed they kissed one another passionately, her red lipstick transferring to his naked face as his tongue explored her mouth. They carried on, not thinking to stop until one of the Drag Queens heckled them, yelling at them to get a room.
The End.