Betrayed Chapter 6

My plucked eyebrows had to be replaced with prosthetics, attached with spirit gum. We had purchased both, plus the concealer, at the specialty theatrical makeup store. No matter how 'natural' they looked, it now felt unnatural to me to see the low, thick, shapeless male brows. The beautiful long nails, each attached with a drop of superglue, had been carefully pried off with an orange stick and put away in the vanity. The nails underneath were then lightly filed and buffed to some semblance of normalcy (Ugh! There's that word again).

The Fourth Level of Hell would be making a conscious effort not to swish in front of my co-workers. I had to remember to move like a man? I had to concentrate on not making those small, graceful gestures with my hands as I talked, or reach up to play with my hair or earrings, which weren't there anyway? Cross one ankle over your knee, sideways, Lance; not knee-over-knee, in-line. How funny is that? Think Victor, Victoria in reverse; a man, pretending to be a woman, pretending to be a man.

What was happening to me, to my confident self-image as a man? Had I been seduced so easily to "the dark side" by this beautiful, mysterious woman? Or had that image been yet another carefully-cultivated lie, and Dianna merely the catalyst to release my own latent childhood desires, just as I had told her she had merely been the catalyst for leaving my wife? Was my life falling apart – or at long last coming together? So many questions; so few answers.

Oh, I would put on a good show. That's exactly what it would be; a show, for the benefit of Management and my co-workers. I would be watching their eyes intently, looking for some glimmer of amusement, or realization, or... something. Hopefully, I would see none. Figure this one out; if I aroused no suspicion, I would feel relieved – and disappointed. Place index finger between lips, then thrum: beebeebeebeebeebeebeebee....

The Fifth Level of Hell was knowing the prospect of living this schizoid existence faced me day in, day out, for the indefinite future.