By Jax Rowe | July 2, 2025
Dominion’s sun dipped behind the skyline, but the energy in Pride Park was electric. After a jarring morning dominated by the House of Commons’ passage of the Big Bold Bill, the mood had evolved from shock into action. By nightfall, the PrideFest grounds had transformed from a celebration site into a fortified nerve center of resistance.
Organizers and volunteers worked quickly throughout the day to reorient logistics, install additional power banks, and reinforce the mobile command tent—a lovingly repurposed food truck that now displayed blinking radios, walkie-talkies, and a map marked with push pins. Booths that had previously sold rainbow flags and glitter now served as information hubs with printed flyers detailing “Know Your Rights” laws and suggested Senate contact scripts.
But the centerpiece of the evening was a makeshift stage hastily assembled from float trailers, scaffolding, and aluminum beams. At 6:30 PM, under a canopy of stage lights and sunset rays, the drag queens of Dominion took their place—not to entertain, but to command.
The Queens Step Forward
Lavender Scythe opened the performance-meeting with what would become the rallying cry of the night:
“We are not your glitter showgirls. We are the first responders of joy—and joy is a revolutionary act.”
Her words were met with a roaring ovation. Joined by fellow queens Miss Voltage, Diana Fury, and Sister Synthia, the quartet performed a choreographed number that wove in theatrical monologues detailing the real-world implications of the Big Bold Bill. Costumes shifted from glam to grayscale to military-couture as the queens led a crowd of thousands through a multi-sensory protest play.
Each segment ended with a clear call to action:
“Call your senator before midnight.”
“Share the truth—not the headlines.”
“Don’t sit this one out just because you’re scared. We’re all scared.”
The crowd, initially heavy-hearted, began chanting:
“Mirrorball! Mirrorball! Mirrorball!”
Over and over. Louder and louder.
Mercer’s Transmission
Then, at 7:15 PM, all eyes turned to the giant projector screen hanging from a tree scaffolding at the center of the festival. Representative Joshua Lane Mercer appeared on-screen, tie loosened, sleeves rolled, and demeanor visibly shaken—but burning with resolve.
“I won’t sugarcoat it—we were stabbed in the back,” Mercer began, referring to several moderate colleagues who had flipped their votes under pressure from the Trask Administration. “They waited until the chamber was nearly empty, then passed this bill like thieves in the night.”
He paused, letting the murmurs of the crowd settle.
“But Dominion’s Senate isn’t the end of the road. It’s just our next checkpoint.”
Mercer announced three major initiatives now underway:
1. Mobilize the Senate
His team has identified at least nine senators who are considered “movable.” Working through private outreach, public testimonies, and political coalition-building, Mirrorball organizers are focusing on personalizing pressure.
“They don’t just need to hear from us. They need to hear from you. Their constituents. Their neighbors.”
2. Launch a Nationwide Awareness Campaign
The campaign—tentatively titled Reality in the Light—will include:
A digital campaign of videos, memes, and documentary-style reels
Billboard takeovers in key cities
A series of pre-written letters that attendees can customize and send to media outlets, local representatives, and influencers
“The Trask Administration wants to paint us as fringe,” Mercer said. “But we are the mainstream now. And we will show them what that looks like.”
3. Initiate DawnWatch
Beginning the morning of July 3, the Operation Mirrorball team will issue daily intelligence briefings—known as DawnWatch. These short, digestible reports will contain:
Leaked internal communications (sourced by Mirrorball agents)
Real-time legislative schedules and talking points
Verified protests, town halls, and civil disobedience plans
The briefings will be shared online, via text list, and even printed on waterproof flyers handed out at events.
Mercer ended the call with a firm promise:
“I’ll be back in Dominion tomorrow. I belong with you—because this isn’t about politics anymore. This is about survival.”
The Night Isn’t Over
After the call, silence blanketed the crowd for just a few beats—then erupted into cheers, tears, and movement. DJ Vinyl Mechanic, who had been scheduled for a late-night set, surprised everyone by remixing Mercer’s speech into an anthemic dance track that kept the energy alive well past sundown.
Tents that were previously folded were pitched again. Glow sticks cracked to life. PrideFest had become an encampment—but one bursting with hope.
And just as the drag queens took to the stage for a second, unscheduled encore, Lavender Scythe leaned into the mic once more:
“Let them try to take our joy. We’ll just make it louder.”
This is the way to win!