poster: em

November 24th, 2014 - All About That Bass

ARITST: Em

AUTHOR: The-Literalist

24th of November, 2014 - All About That Bass

Arthur could not recall the last time he was this stressed out. With his university-supplied headset firmly in place, microphone poised for optimal communication with other club members, Arthur took another look around the huge room. The square stage was set up with a runway jutting out into the front, where rows of chairs were branching off to ensure maximum seating capabilities. Rainbow flags and streamers decorated the walls with brilliant color, Arthur felt his heart swell with pride as a counter to the nervousness flooding his system.

Being the president of the LGBT club at his university, Arthur wanted this show to be absolutely perfect. It was the annual Drag Show his club hosted year after year, always successful and entertaining for the audience. This year, there were multiple men from the club dressing in drag and performing their own acts. The lineup of the Drag Show had received overwhelming excitement, as this year’s performers happened to have a bit of a fanbase. Francis, Sadik, Gilbert, and Alfred were of the most popular performers. Francis was known to be a bit of an overzealous flirt, so naturally students would find him endearing, Sadik had all the chiseled, tan muscles anyone would fawn over, and Gilbert had a sharp, unique look to him, giving off a bad-boy impression. Personally, Arthur did not see the appeal of any of these performers, especially the most well-known performer, the beloved Alfred Jones. Don’t even get Arthur started on Alfred Jones. He had been a thorn in Arthur’s side ever since he joined the LGBT club two years ago, before Arthur assumed the presidential position.

When Alfred had signed up as a drag queen for the show, Arthur hadn’t been surprised, of course the moron would jump on any excuse for attention. Just imagining everyone’s eyes on Alfred during his act made Arthur’s blood boil, but not because Arthur was jealous or anything, mind you.

Watching his club members rush around brought his mind back to the present, making sure the tables were set up for snacks and drinks, ensuring the ticket window was ready, decorating the stage and aligning the spotlights; yes, this was going to be a spectacular show.

There was only one, slightly problematic, concern gnawing through Arthur’s sanity. The performers and hosts had not had a chance to practice with one another. Each person had practiced alone but none together. Due to scheduling conflicts, there had been no dress rehearsal, which meant…the actual show would be the first and final run-through of the acts. Arthur felt faint. He hadn’t even seen the acts himself! And he was the president! Praying to any and every god, he hoped none of the performances would be too provocative or inappropriate. Well, he couldn’t worry about that now. Smiling eager university students began to file into the room; thirty minutes until show time.

So far so good, Arthur thought from the darkened corner beside the stage. There were no empty seats after the students had come in, the show had started, and the hosts had given their introductions perfectly eliciting cheers and applause from the audience. Before the event began, everyone had told Arthur he should be up on the stage as a host, but in all honesty he was much too afraid of being in front of that many people, so instead he moderated from the sidelines, giving instructions to other club members through his headset every now and then.

The acts began with relative ease, Francis up first. Too much frills Arthur pondered upon seeing the performance. Francis had worn a frilly pink dress to accompany his French number, with many inappropriate gestures and kisses blown to the audience. Well it could have been worse, all things considering it was pretty tame for what Francis was capable of.

Sadik’s act was a combination of showing off his rippling biceps whilst wearing some sort of masquerade outfit, complete with ornate white mask. Then onto Gilbert’s performance, which was overbearingly loud and much too intensified for Arthur’s taste. Then finally! It was time for Alfred’s act, not that Arthur was excited for it or anything.

The lights dimmed and the song began playing, All About That Bass by Meghan Trainor, an interesting pick Arthur thought, wasn’t that the song centered around body image? He knew Alfred wasn’t the skinniest man ever, constantly eating junk food all the time took a toll on his figure, but he was in no means obese (or unattractive). Alfred emerged from the backstage curtains in a stunning blue gown, makeup done to perfection and sparkling high heels. Arthur gulped.

Because you know I’m all about that bass, ‘bout that bass, no treble. I’m all about that bass, 'bout that bass, no treble.

The lyrics reverberated through the speakers as Alfred strolled down the runway, swinging his hips seductively and eyeing the crowd like he knew he embodied the very definition of sex and temptation. Arthur couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Yeah, it’s pretty clear, I ain’t no size two. But I can shake it shake it, like I’m supposed to do.

Alfred pivoted his body so that his back was to the crowd and shook his ass like it was no one’s business; twerking, was it? Hands on his hips, he jutted his butt out to the audience, his head turned sideways so there was a good view of his profile.

Cause I got that boom boom that all the boys chase, and all the right junk in all the right places.

Facing the audience again, he ran his hands down his dress-clad body, accentuating his curviness.

I see the magazine workin’ that photoshop. We know that shit ain’t real, c'mon now make it stop. If you got beauty, beauty, just raise 'em up, 'cause every inch of you is perfect from the bottom to the top.

With these lyrics, Alfred grabbed the top of his gown and ripped it apart so it fell to the ground, emerging from the fallen gown in an extremely tight sparkling dress. Arthur’s heart stopped. The crowd became a cacophony of whistles and cheers.

Yeah, my mama she told me don’t worry about your size. She says “Boys like a little more booty to hold at night.”

Alfred then proceeded to spank his own ass before grabbing it with both hands and shimmying downward, his hips gyrating and eyes fluttering and stupid smirk permeating those beautiful red-lipsticked lips. Holy shit.

The rest of Alfred’s act passed by in a blur, Arthur’s mind clouded with desire and disbelief. He had never been so aroused in his life. In fact, he barely even registered the rest of the show, still completely taken by Alfred’s performance. Luckily, the show went on beautifully even without Arthur’s engagement.

After it was all over, most of the members gathered together to gush about their post-show excitement, all relieved the acts had gone so well. They were huddled around Antonio, the designated photographer for the Drag Show, basking in the pictures he had taken from each performance. As he clicked through all the pictures, he stopped on a certain photo of their president, Arthur, who was caught gazing up at Alfred from the side of the stage with a look of pure wonder, green eyes wide and mouth gaping. Suddenly, everyone began to giggle at the prospect of their president being so mesmerized by Alfred. Francis especially took a lot of humor in it. He called Alfred over to see the picture, and when Alfred glanced at it and blushed profusely, Francis grew even more amused. It didn’t take long for Arthur himself to wander over to find out what the commotion was about, and when he realized what Antonio had taken a picture of, he screamed in an ungentlemanly fashion and attempted to grab the camera away. But even if he had managed to succeed in deleting the picture, the damage was done. Alfred must know Arthur’s feelings by now, even though he had tried so hard to bury them under layers of denial and aggression.

Bullocks, every bone in Arthur’s body was telling him to escape this humiliation, so he made to flee but was stopped by Alfred. Alfred, who was still wearing that short sparkling dress from the performance with absolutely no shame on his face at all. In fact, his expression was quite warm, still blushing pink and ruby red lips curved upward in a tentative smile. Arthur’s heart stuttered.

“I’m glad you liked my act, Artie,” Alfred began, “If you wanna see what else I can do, you should come over to my place tonight.” He finished with a wink. All of their friends and fellow club members started to catcall and snicker around them. Arthur cheeks turned even redder as he pushed Alfred aside and quickly walked away from the teasing words and looks. Such a pompous wanker, Arthur thought, but I am definitely taking him up on that offer, another part of his mind supplied. Arthur allowed himself a small smile, he couldn’t wait to get his hands on all that bass.

“This is the oldest poster we have hanging up,” murmured the General, “So cheesy.”

“But you love it.”

The old soldier smiles. “I do.”

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