(A/N): This is a disclaimer! I don't know extensively about drag. I've seen movies and such, but I've never seen anything live or done formal research on it. This is supposed to be a story; I'm not trying to offend anyone by writing something incorrect. If I write anything upsetting, please understand that writing such is NOT my intention.

FYI: When a character is in the mentality of their drag persona, I'll use the opposite of their regular pronouns (like she/her instead of he/him), but otherwise, their regular pronouns will be used.

Warnings: Insults, mentions of extreme alcohol consumption

Most of the nations saw America as a very open country; they assumed that he was far too loud and boastful to have many secrets.

Of course, Alfred acted like that sometimes for the sole purpose of directing suspicion away from himself. While he loves attention, he also was very fond of having a private life, but, being a nation, privacy was hard to come by if you didn't work for it.

One of his many secrets was his night job. He often overslept and was late for meetings because of such, but he wouldn't give up his position for the world.

Well, it wasn't a position so much as a state of being.

Alfred was a drag queen, and a pretty darn attractive one, at that. Expressing himself through drag made him feel more like himself. It made him feel beautiful, able to ignore the insults thrown at him by his fellow nations.

"AMERICA! GET YOUR IGNORANT SELF OVER HERE AND PRESENT ALREADY, YOU TWAT!" (A/N: I'm not a big fan of cussing, so I toned down Iggy's language a bit, sorry if it makes his character seem a bit off)

Ah. England's lovely voice brought him back to the present. Fantastic. "Oh right! Here goes my heroic presentation, then!" He said with his signature million dollar smile.

He hated this... he didn't want to be in a meeting talking about raising ocean pollution. He knew that nothing would get done at this meeting, that's always how these meetings went.

Just a few more hours. He told himself.
Just a few hours and I can go back on stage and be free.

***

"Liberty! You're on in five!"

Alfred perked up, coming out of the changing room with a grin. He was excited to preform and be around people who actually enjoyed him- or rather, her.

"And now, the woman you've all been waiting for! The one and only LADY LIBERTY!"

The crowd started cheering uproariously.

Liberty gracefully walked onto the stage, her heels clicking as she set her feet on the stage's cool surface.

Her bright red lips widened into a smile. "Wow! All these beautiful people! I've got something for y'all!" (A/N: Lady Liberty has a Southern accent)

She dropped the mic, stretching her well toned arms to prepare herself.

The crowd was already cheering from the small action.

"And now Miss Liberty will preform a song chosen by the crowd!" The announcer declared.

"Everything at once!"

"Do it for her!"

"All you wanna do!"

"JUDAS!"

Liberty's smile widened. "I think I heard 'Judas'."

"Judas by Lady Gaga it is!" The announcer confirmed.

The crowd screamed for a few more moments before setting down for the performance.

Just as they quieted down, the music kicked in. Lady Liberty began to sing and vigorously dance to the music. Her movements looked thought out despite the fact that she had never danced to the current song before.

[There should be a GIF or video here. Update the app now to see it.]

By the end of the song, the crowd was screaming even louder than before (which was saying something).

"LADY LIBERTY, I LOVE YOU!"

"PLEASE DATE ME!"

"IF I PAYED, COULD I GET A KISS?!"

Liberty chuckled. "Sorry, folks, that's all the time I've got tonight. But, get ready for the other beautiful queens preforming tonight!"

Liberty left the stage while the crowd was distracted by the entrance of the next drag queen.

She sighed as she went back to her changing room, about to open the door.

"That was quite the performance. I haven't been so fully entertained in decades."

Liberty froze. A fan? How did they get back here with the security guards? Why does their voice sound so familiar? "How did you-"

"I have a talent of making people move out of my way." The heavily accented voice responded, sounding amused.

Her eyes widened, but she still refused to face the looming figure behind her. "Do I... know you?" She asked calmly.

There was a pause.

"I suppose you could say that we are acquainted, just... we've never met like this."

The Russian accent, I should have guessed. She turned to face the taller nation. "What are you doing here, Ivan?" She asked firmly.

"I needed vodka."

Of course. "Didn't your hotel have any?"

"Da." He smirked to himself. "But they quickly ran out."

Liberty rolled her eyes. "You mean you drank it all?"

"You know me too well, Fredka." He smiled fondly.

A sudden thought brought Alfred back to the present. "Don't tell the other nations. I really don't feel like being humiliated for this."

Ivan frowned in disappointment. "I liked your Southern accent..." He sighed. "either way, I never planned on telling the others about this."

Alfred sighed. "So you're blackmailing me, then."

Ivan frowned again. "Nyet."

Alfred's eyes narrowed. What is he planning?

"I much prefer it when your pretty face is smiling. Blackmail would not do that."

Alfred couldn't help but blush. People called Lady Liberty pretty all the time, but no one ever said such a thing to Alfred.

NO! I can't give Ivan that kind of satisfaction! Wait, IVAN?! When did we get on a human name basis?!

"You don't need to lie." Alfred muttered bitterly. "What happened to 'Capitalist Pig'?"

Ivan seemed to be saddened by the comment. "As the embodiment of Mother Russia, I am meant to despise America and all you stand for." He looked down. "But sometimes... I cannot bring myself to even pretend to hate you, because..."

Is he blushin-

"I love you, Alfred."

"I..." He loves me back?! How is this possible?
"I love you too, Ivan."

The Russian pulled him closer before sealing the gap between their lips. As they parted, his eyes sparkled.

Alfred's face was a dark red. "That was... so..."

"Amazing? Fantastical? Perfect?" Ivan suggested.

Alfred chuckled, nodding his head. "You taste like vodka."