And When they were Up, they were Up

Next morning, I hauled myself out of bed and did my business, had a long shower, and dressed for my lecture. It was really odd to see the dress hanging in my wardrobe, and even odder to see the cosmetics on the chest, next to the wig. I had cleansed, last night, before I went to bed, so the pillow was still clean.

I wandered into the kitchen and made myself some toast. After breakfast, I cleaned up my dishes as well as the ones left in the sink, as usual. The lads had early lectures a lot of the time. I stood at the sink and thought about the walk home. I’d been Jean since five, the day before, and had absorbed the character to the point of letting Howard kiss me. It wasn’t that I hadn’t been kissed before, but that had been Aunts and girlfriends.

I checked my student bag for all the things I needed, made sure my voice recorder battery was full, and today I walked to the LSE in the cool air, to clear my head of crazy thoughts. I sat through the lecture, making notes, and then went to the café where I had a decent meal. Then, I did my usual thing, going to the library to make some sense of what I’d heard and do as much of the project given as I could.

Then, it was back to the flat. When I walked in, the boys were there.

“Afternoon, lads. Did you enjoy your meal last night?”

“It was good, Gene. We really should go there more often. Howards’ been telling me about the crowd that poured out of that club last night. It sounded like a very strange place.”

“It is a strange place. You get a heap of with-it people to act as one, have fun, dance a lot, see celebrities and you charge them an arm and a leg just to be there, followed by taking their teeth and ribs to eat and drink. Howard was very gentlemanly to come and escort me home, and I appreciated it.”

“Are you likely to be going there in a dress again”

“I don’t know. The manager did speak to me as I was leaving. He told me that the fashion designer was going to give him her contact details to pass on to me. I was at the bar next to the DJ and was told to groove with the music. It was a lot of fun for me, as well.”

Howard looked like the cat that had just seen the cream.

“Do you think that the designer wants to have you modelling? You looked as good as most of those that came out that door, and I’m talking the girls. Most of the boys looked like they were wearing somebodies sack.”

“Why, thank you, kind sir. I don’t know what will happen now, but wearing that dress got me noted at the pub as well. Especially going down that spiral staircase. The bar went quiet for a few moments. I wondered if my panties were showing. Come to think of it, they probably were, for the ones sitting straight below. That’s something that we don’t have to worry about when wearing trousers.”

I went to my room and made ready for the evening at the Duke. I said cheerio to the guys as I left, and walked back to the pub, passing the entry of Tape on the way. Joe was standing outside as I got there, having a sly cigarette.

“Hi, there, Gene. Good night, last night. You looked as if you deserved to be in that dress, unlike a lot of the others.”

“Thanks, Joe. By the time I got here, I had done four and a half hours at the Duke, around the corner, so had got used to it. It actually felt normal by that time.”

He put a finger on his earbud.

“Just a moment. The boss has noticed you on the camera and is coming down to talk to you.”

“OK, I’ve got twenty minutes before I’m due at the Duke.”

The boss came out and gave me a business card and a folded paper.

“The designer sent these around for you, today. Do me a favour and give her a call as soon as you can. She was very happy with what we turned on last night and is likely to be holding other events here in future. You were so natural, be prepared to get more evenings in a dress. There is the big Christmas bash where all the girls look like Santas’ helpers.”

“Looking forward to it already, boss. Got to run, there’s a bar waiting for me around the corner.”

“OK, Gene, see you Friday night. Don’t overload yourself. You’re a good worker and we may be able to offer you something better in the New Year.”

When I walked into the Duke, the guv’nor took me aside and we went into his office.

“Don’t look so worried, Gene. You did a great job last night, in difficult circumstances. Angie was impressed with how you carried yourself. If I put you in the dining room, tonight, would it be a problem?”

“No, it would be good. Is there much in the way of bookings?”

“We have almost a full room with a local business having a meal and meeting. They wanted a function room but the only one big enough was already booked. It means that instead of supplying the drinks by the bottle, they’re giving us a bar tab. The screen will have a warning when they get close, so tell Angie then and she’ll talk to the organisers. How did it go at the club?”

“Loud, proud and totally off the wall. The punters couldn’t get in unless they were wearing a dress like mine. The designer would have made a mint at her outlets.”

I put my coat on the hook in the cloakroom and went up the staircase, this time without the ribald suggestions. Angie was waiting for me in the dining room.

“Big crowd in, tonight, Gene. Has the guv’nor spoken to you?”

“He did. It may be an interesting evening. Do you know who we’re catering for?”

“It’s the Fashion Academy, just around the corner. It seems that one of their alumni had a big success with her designs. They’re combining it with a festive dinner, while there’s still places that they can get in.”

I pulled the papers out of the back pocket of my pants and looked at the card.

“Is the designer Steph Foster?”

“It is. Was that one of her dresses that you were wearing last night? It did look a bit like the one on the singers’ video.”

“It was. That was because the event at the Tape, last night, was put on by her as a celebration of that very video. You had to be wearing one of those dresses to get inside, and it was hilarious to see how embarrassed the guys were.”

“What’s on the paper?”

“It’s contact details for her. The manager gave them to me as I passed. She wants to talk to me, but I don’t think she will want to if she sees me as I normally am.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll tell you if I hear anything juicy tonight.”

I made sure the bar was ready to go, double checking the odd things that aren’t normally needed, as a crowd from the fashion world would possibly order cocktails. Last night I had made quite a few.

The diners started arriving and we started getting drink orders. About a third of them were for cocktails, mainly Cosmopolitans. The girls started getting orders in as the tables filled and I was busy for a while. There was a cheer as Steph came in and she came straight over to the bar.

“Good evening, Miss Foster. Cosmopolitan with an extra dash of lime?”

She looked at me more intensely.

“I think I’ve seen you before. How do you know my favourite drink?”

“I think that I may have mixed several for you last night.”

“You? It was a girl behind that bar, a very interesting one as well.”

I pulled the card and paper from my back pocket.

“The manager gave me this, today. He seems to think that you wanted to talk to me. I suppose that seeing me as my real self will mean that I can put these in the bin.”

“No! Seeing you is even more exciting. I have to create a range of gender-neutral outfits for a boyband. It’s to be presented to them for approval in February. You’ll be a perfect model. You even look like a couple of them. When can you see me?”

“Weekdays I’m at the LSE, and work here in the evenings, and Tape when they’re open. A Saturday or Sunday morning would be ideal.”

She took a small notebook out of her bag.

“How about next Saturday, at the address you have, say eleven in the morning. If it gets interesting, I’ll give you lunch.”

I picked up a pencil and made a note on my piece of paper.

“All right, Miss Foster, I’ll be there. Now, I’ll mix your drink. Will you want a few, tonight? I can do a larger mix and put it aside for you, which will save time.”

She looked at my name badge.

“That will be good, Gene.”

I mixed her special and poured her first for her. She took a sip and smiled before she went to take her place at the main table. The evening was a good one, the main noise being girlish laughter from the ladies in the room. It was busy, with more of them wanting cocktails, which, of course, hit the bar tab limit a little earlier than they hoped. I spoke to Angie, who went over to the organiser and whispered in her ear, being given a card to swipe. We kept it at the till until the party was over, and then swiped it for the extra. The organiser was finishing her drink as it was done, to input her code.

“Thank you for a wonderful evening. The food was good, the service excellent, and the delivery of the drinks first-class, especially all of those different cocktails. You, young man, are a genius. How did you learn so many at your age?”

“Growing up in a family who own pubs, ma-am. I spent a lot of time behind the bar, and we had an American barman who had been trained in New York. I’m good with maths, and a lot of cocktail differences are in the ratios, which I seem to have mastered easily.”

“Steph tells me that you were that stunning girl who caught her eye last night. That was an amazing transformation. Do you do that often?”

“No, that was the first time I went for a genuine look. I’ve often worn costumes, working in hospitality, I’ve been almost every superhero in the magazines. The outfit was supplied by the club.”

“Amazing. If what Steph is planning works out, the bar will lose one of its best.”

She took her card and left us. Angie looked at me intently.

“What?”

“Yes, Gene, What’s going on?”

“Miss Foster saw me at the club last night and left contact details for me to get in touch. You saw how I looked, maybe she wanted to get me in for a photo shoot. Tonight, I asked her if she wanted her favourite cocktail, with extra lime, and she saw me as I really am. Now she wants me to see her next Saturday, about a range of androgenous outfits for a boyband that she needs a model for. Beyond that, I know nothing.”

“That’s great! We may see you up on posters in frilly shirts and big-legged pants one day. I’ll be able to point you out to my grandkids and tell them that I knew you before you were famous.”

I went home at a reasonable hour and caught up on my sleep. On Thursday, I had a lecture and caught up on my course work, the one day when I wasn’t yawning all the time. I started to think about what the Academy lady said about not needing to work nights. The thing was that while I was at the LSE another six months for this year and a full year to finish, I wouldn’t be able to work during the days, either. I couldn’t see a way around that, as my parents had funded my full course, and there was no way I could let them down.

On Friday, I had a lecture, and went straight from the LSE via the tube to Bond Street and left my big bag in the staff cloakroom as I started the shift at the Duke. I left it there for safekeeping when I went around to Tape.

On Saturday morning, I had the alarm on to get me moving in time for my appointment. I made sure that I was clean, hair washed, and shaved. I had a few nice shirts and slacks, so went with those and a denim jacket. There was a pair of Cuban heeled shoes that I had bought on a whim and hardly worn. When I looked in the mirror, I thought that Steph had been right, I did look a lot like many of the members of current bands, except that I couldn’t sing or play anything.

I had to take the tube to get near her office, getting odd looks from girls in the train, but arrived without being asked for an autograph. Perhaps they couldn’t decide which one of a band I was. When I went in, I walked straight into a hug from a strange girl.

“Archie Sumpter, welcome to the House of Foster!”

“I’m sorry, miss. I’m Gene to see Miss Foster. I wondered which singer I looked like.”

“Never mind. Just wait a moment while I get my phone. I want to take a selfie with you and make my friends jealous. They’re not to know that you’re not the sexpot, himself.”

She took a picture of us both smiling, and another with her kissing my cheek.

“Thank you, Gene. I’ll let Miss Foster know that you’re here.”

When I was led to Miss Foster, she was in a photo studio with a couple of guys.

“Good morning, Gene. This is Alphonse, my main photographer, and Henry, our lighting man. I must say that you already look the image of what I was thinking. Did you get asked for autographs on the way here?”

“No, but I did get the odd look and had to have a selfie with your receptionist.”

“I should have expected that of her, she is a real tease with her friends. Al, what do you think of Gene?”

“Pretty much perfect for a band model, Steph. We can start with the outfit he has on, as it can be a baseline for what you have in mind. He reminds me of that singer that died, except that he has longer hair. Do you sing, lad?”

“Not a note. I used to organise karaoke in my fathers’ pub, and he paid me extra not to open my mouth.”

Over the next two hours, I posed for him, taking direction in something I’d never done before, with a range of outfits. They didn’t use any make-up, as it was all about the clothes. I did, at one point, have the frilly shirt and harem pants that Angie had spoken about, and they felt very soft and almost sensual. At just after one, I was back in the clothes that I arrived in and sitting in a nearby restaurant with Steph.

She bought me lunch and gave me a cheque for five hundred pounds.

“This is for being such a good sport and a good model, Gene. It’s given me a lot of ideas for the band outfits. The money is for your time as a casual. If we want you back in the studio, we’ll have to get you an Equity card as a fashion model, and then pay you the standard rates.”

“Thank you for that, Miss Foster. I didn’t know what to expect out of today. I had wondered, after Tuesday night, if you had wanted me to model as a girl.”

“That can come later. When can you come in? I know that you work nights.”

“I’m studying Finance at the LSE. My parents have funded the full course, which I’m now in the second year. I work at the Duke of York every night, and at Tape four nights a week. It’s a full life at the moment. With the LSE, we finish the term soon, and restart in January. With the night work, we’re getting into the busiest time of the year, with Christmas and New Year parties and events. Tape will be having themed nights where I’ve already been told that I’ll join the girls as a helper. The main time that I’m free, during the day, is the summer break. I didn’t go home this year.”

“Look, email me with your uni holiday dates for a start. Do you do the hospitality because you like it, or because you need the money?”

“It’s a progression from me growing up in a pub. My folks want me to take on the job of running the business accounts when I graduate. There are about twenty pubs in the group, all run by offshoots from the family, dating back to the original stagecoach stop in seventeen-ninety.”

“So, they’ve mapped out your future.”

“It seemed the right thing at the time.”

“Now, you’re not so sure?”

“It was my world up to living here. The Duke was a progression, but working at Tape had opened up a whole new vista of what life could be. What you’ve spoken about is a progression of that world, not the old one. It’s going to take a lot of thought.”

“I won’t push you where you don’t want to go. I’ll get you the card, so that I can use you with the band outfits. We can work those sessions in with your available time, without messing up your schedule. I’ll need you registered so I can use your image as part of my presentation. Next year, however, you may have to decide about the other work. From what I can see, the biggest change that you can make will be dropping Tape, so letting you get your proper sleep. What you’ll get from me will offset that income, and maybe more. You may even go to Tape as a celebrity.”

When I got back to the flat, having picked up my school bag, Howard was there when I walked in. He was, once again, open-mouthed.

“You look like a longer haired George Michael!”

“Actually, I had a selfie with a girl this morning, who said that I was Archie Sumpter. Which was better, as he’s actually still living. I then spent two hours in various poofy outfits being photographed. It was a very strange experience.”

“Not dresses?”

“She said that it would be next year, possibly, before we move on to that. She’s getting me an Equity card to be registered as a fashion model.”

“What about your studies?”

“I told her that they were not negotiable. I may have to stop working at Tape after the New Year, to give me more time for other things. She told me that I should get much the same with income, as well as getting more sleep.”

I didn’t change to go back to the Duke, that night, which was good, because I was behind the dining room bar again, with several girls wanting to have a selfie with me, including Angie. When I got to Tape, it was even more fun, as some in the line took pictures of me as I went in. I was given a hastily made badge with Archie on, and did the bar by the DJ, having a lot of pictures taken with a lot of girls, and a few boys, hanging on to me. Luckily, I was more sober than the ones who tried to follow me home and learned how difficult it was to run in Cuban heels, getting to the door of the flat and rushing in. I stood by the door, listening to the clatter of heels and giggling pass by.

I took my shoes off as I went up the stairs and into the flat. As I undressed, I thought about the day. It had only taken me wearing an outfit that had been worn by a star to create mayhem. If this was what being a celebrity was all about, it’s no wonder they found hideaways to escape to.

On Sunday morning, I was on my laptop looking up Archie Sumpter. He was part of a boyband called B.U.K. They had a few hits in the top ten. When I looked at the picture of them, I knew why I had been in so many selfies. Archie and Ian Sumpter were brothers, but like opposites. Ian was short and lumpy but was the main writer. Archie was , well, a chubbier me with better hair. He was listed as being seen around with more ladies than I’ve had hot dinners. A couple of them had been in Tape over the months and were genuinely hot. The other three in the band were all Archie look-alikes. If these were the ones that Steph was working with, then it was no wonder she gave me the money.

After that, I did my best with the project I was working on, but my brain wasn’t in sync with the rest of me. I dressed in my normal working gear and went down to the Italian place next door for a change of lunch.

I did try to get into the project that afternoon and was slowly getting back into the swing when it was time to go to work. I did my shift at the Duke, and the Sunday at Tape, where I was given a Wonder Woman outfit to wear, as we were having a Superhero themed event. One of the girls gave me a quick make-up before the doors opened. For this show, both of the bouncers were in Hulk outfits and looked as scary as hell. I changed at the close and walked home, getting a few odd looks from slow-moving patrons. When I was in my room and looked in the mirror, I still had the make-up on.

I had a clear day on Monday, so finished the project for handing in. We were now into the end of term, with the last day the middle of December. I emailed Steph with my holiday dates, telling her that I would be expected to revise over the holiday and sit for exams in the second week of January, with lectures restarting on the third week. My next break would be from the first week of April to the first week of May.

I also told her that I would take some time off from both night jobs. I would let Tape know that I would take the first three weeks of January, so that I would have time to revise for the exams. I would tell the Duke the same, which they would expect, seeing that I had done the same last year.

My parents wanted me to go home for a while, but I had told them that I didn’t have the time. Tape would skip the usual Tuesday evening and have a Christmas Eve event and New Year Eve on the Wednesday instead, with the usual weekend before Christmas.

Before the festive shows, we were very busy in both places. I did get to wear the Santas’ Helper costume, more than once, and Howard escorted me from the club each time, with us kissing goodnight. It appeared that he was only interested when I looked like a girl. Mind you, it was nice to be escorted when I was in that costume, as jailbait just doesn’t begin to describe how I looked. I think that Howard would have spent some time in the bathroom after I’d gone into my room.

For the New Year parties, I opted to be at the Duke. They wanted me to run the dining room bar in a long dress and the wig, which I still had. I was now in contact with Steph, and we had organised a photo shoot between Christmas and New Year. When I had done that, I borrowed the long dress and matching shoes from her. She came along to the party, with some friends, and I had Grant and Howard escort me to and from. Both expected kisses at midnight, but only Howard wanted a goodnight kiss when we got back to the flat.

Marianne Gregory © 2026