Hold Me Closer: The Tiny Cooper Story by David Levithan Read Free Book Online Page B

because these are not comfortable things that the ex-boyfriends are saying.
    Tiny stops addressing Lynda, who goes offstage as Tiny talks to the audience.
    TINY:
    You might ask: “Didn’t they know what they were getting into from the start? It’s not like you suddenly grew to be this size overnight!” To which I say: True. And I’m sure there were some people who were frightened away before they ever got to know me. Ex #3 was someone I met at the mall—we didn’t really date. I just made sure to get invited to a party he was going to be at, and when I made my move, he called me massive and said, “Just look at your size,” and that was the end of that. He counts as an ex because he made me feel dumped even without making me feel loved first.
    Ex #12, Curtis, was different—I think he kept seeing me as his friends saw me, and wasn’t strong enough to tell them to shut up. When it was just the two of us, when we could block out the world, it was fine. But no relationship should rely on you blocking out the world. The world will always get in. And if the world is going to make you self-conscious about dating a big-boned boy, that big-boned boy is going to notice.
    As for Ex #16, Royce—he flirted with
everyone.
But if you ever liked him back, forget it. Some boys—not many, but a few—are like that, getting their own strength from finding your weakness and poking it. There’s something weirdly transfixing about their confidence, like even as they’re condescending to you, you’re secretly hoping that their strength will rub off and suddenly you’ll be as confident as they are. But that’s not how it works. Being strong at being a jerk isn’t really strength—it’s just being a jerk. It may make these guys great Future Business Leaders of America, but it makes them really crappy boyfriends.
    Now, about the number that’s going to soon unfold. Even though there are plenty of people like me who worship at its altar, musical theater is not particularly kind to its larger-of-frame characters. In opera, we get arias, romance, intrigue. In musical theater, we’re comic relief (when we’re allowed to be there at all). When the fat boy dances, it’s usually to get a laugh. But not here. Not in
my
show.
    Here is what I want you to do. This is really two songs in one . . . but the audience won’t know that at first. For the first part, make it as campy as you want. Let them see the fat boy dance! But when the second part starts, strip that all away. Make it sincere. Think about what they were able to do in
Kinky Boots
. At first it’s all “hey, drag queens, ha ha ha”—but then at the end Billy Porter gets his big number and he sells it like he’s getting a commission. There’s no ha ha ha. There’s just a beautiful woman rising above her pain and all the shit she’s been given her whole life. What I’m writing here isn’t as good, but try to give it that power.
    It’s exactly what Ex-boyfriends #3, #12, and #16 would not want you to do. Imagine them sitting in the audience as you’re singing this. Imagine them laughing at you at the start. And then try to imagine them realizing they were wrong about you.
    At first, Tiny looks wounded. But then he stares them down as the music starts to swell. He’ll be singing this one to them, until
the chorus comes in. Then he’ll be playing to the audience, until the final turn.
    [“THE SIZE OF THE PACKAGE”]
    TINY:
    What, you think you know me?
    Nothing funnier than the fat boy.
    What, you think you got this?
    Who am I to even think of love?
    This part’s the disco windup. The Jennifer Holliday/Hudson swell. The chorus comes onto the stage to back Tiny up.
    Well, your love’s the empty calorie here.
    You say I’m so huge but you don’t see me at all.
    So wipe those smirks from each one of your
    faces—
    ’cause I know I’m big-boned and beautiful in
    all the right places.
    TINY AND CHORUS ( in full disco tilt ):
    It’s not the size of the