《A Ship Rebuilt》


 Prologue

    4/12/23

    Vivi sat on the edge, both physically and figuratively. Not quite living, and not yet dead. Not quite female, yet certainly no longer male. Overwhelmed by emotion, and yet so very numb. Driven to action, but hopelessly trying to hold herself back.

    She just couldn''t take it anymore, her life was good, but she still felt so fucking empty that she knew something was missing. She has friends, family, a promising career, and a doting partner, but she wanted, no, she needed more. Her therapist said it was all internalized, and Vivi accepted that, but how could she possibly change that deep internal part of herself without losing who she was as a person? She felt cursed. Cursed to be stuck in the body she didn''t want or ask for, cursed to be so close to what she''s always craved, yet never able to physically achieve it. The pain of proximity to the ideal is so much worse when you know it is impossible. It would be so much easier if she were farther from it. Which is why she knew she had to do it.

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    It was a beautiful summer night in Manhattan. Sitting on the edge of her apartment building''s rooftop, she could see millions of people, all with their own lives and stories, mingling and bustling about. She could feel the residual warmth in the air and the smell of distant gunpowder from the evening''s fireworks. She has lived in New York for as long as she has been conscious, yet has never grown sick of looking out on the city and taking in its majesty. She almost felt like she belonged here.

    So she sat there, for a while longer than usual, thinking about the lives of the people she saw below her, fantasizing about being in their shoes and feeling normal, until she couldn''t bear it anymore.

    At that moment, she knew it was time.

    She closed her eyes, took in a deep breath, and leaned over the edge.

 One

    Two Years Later, Friday

    7/25/25

    Harley squealed as I came out of the closet fully dressed. "Oh my god Vi, you look so cute! I love the little corset! Your boobs look amazing."

    I continue to stare into the mirror, desperately trying to confirm her comments. "Thanks babe" I say sheepishly, while examining every inch of myself for imperfections. "Isn''t it a bit much for a birthday party?"

    She laughs and retorts, "aren''t you a bit much?" Fair point.

    The dress stops just above my knees, red satin, with some modest boning clenching my waist and allowing little precious air into my lungs. The boatneck neckline showing just enough to be sexy, yet not too overstated. You could almost see a hint of a fading scar on the insides of each of my thighs. I could deal with that.

    As I sat down at my vanity to start my makeup, Harley was beginning one of her usual diatribes on self acceptance. Of course she has no issues with self acceptance, she''s come way farther than she ever expected to. She''s the perfect height, with a slim build and brown hair. Her blue eyes perfectly accentuated by her teal dress. I honestly don''t know why she gets shit about her appearance occasionally. My ideal self is much more unrealistic. We rarely agreed on such topics, so I opted to listen instead of rebuffing. She''s always been more progressive and open with herself. I, for one, have never been able to fully allow my mind and body to coexist. But that''s neither here nor there. We have a party to host.

    I''m a perfectionist, and thus it takes me a solid two and a half hours to finish my hair and makeup. It doesn''t help that our constant banter ends with both of us laughing our mascara down our faces, causing me to have to make a few too many touch-up''s.

    ----

    The party is honestly going better than expected, one of the major downsides of having young techie friends in NYC is that it''s damn near impossible to get us all in the same fucking room for a night. There''s always something going on. Fortunately, more and more slowly trickled in as Harley and I frantically worked in the kitchen. We haven''t even burned anything yet! A miracle indeed. So I stood there, desperately stirring the risotto with a joint in my mouth, until I heard the doorbell ring yet again. "Babe! Can you please get that? I''m a bit stuck at the moment." I yelled out to Harley.

    Sure enough, she comes back a minute later with Chloe in tow. If you''re friends with Chloe, you know that you never have to actually see her coming to know she''s there. Just hearing the iconic red heels on the hardwood floor clicking in her usual stride is more than enough.

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    "Well, if it isn''t the beautiful birthday girl!, congrats on making it to 28 babes! Looking gorgeous as ever I see" she says in a raspy voice as she leans in for an aggressively sweet hug, right before taking the joint out of my mouth for a long drag of her own.

    "Oh lord thank you for coming! I haven''t seen you in forever!" I reply, "Just give me a minute, and we''ll talk tea."

    She looks over my shoulder, winks, and struts off just as I start to hear the sizzle of a risotto starting to burn.

    ----

    With dinner miraculously saved, and guests well satiated, the party was settling in for the long haul. I sat on the long couch in the living room, Harley at my side, shooting the shit with Chloe and her new boyfriend, James, that I finally got to meet. Chloe probably has the best taste in men out of any of my friends, and it''s no wonder, most men would bark like a dog if she simply asked. 5''10 with a perfectly curvy body and curled hair flowing down to her waist, it''s a wonder I''m not barking right now. As per her taste, James is the tall, dark and handsome type, with a wit to match. So we sat and reminisced about the last few months apart, her sprawled out with her legs on James'' lap, and me equally but more awkwardly sprawled next to Harley as Chloe recounts the story of how her and James met last month.

    "So then James comes in, sweating with nerves before his interview on the morning show. You could practically taste his fear!"

    "That''s not fair babe!, I just ran 5 blocks thinking I was going to be late." He defends, looking visibly flustered.

    "Regardless, after 30 minutes of my magic, he was ready for the cameras, and I got his number!" she replies with a devilish grin.

    "Y''all are too cute." Harley quips between puffs of the joint.

    "So why were you going on that show James?" I ask "Something about your research?"

    "Ohh, yeah, Chloe never got around to that. The lab I work at just made a considerable breakthrough in epigenetic modification of cells in Mice, we were able to get them to regrow limbs in trials. It''s super promising stuff, with potential for clinical trials in humans!" He responded, taking a long sip of his wine. "Chloe was prepping me for an interview with the station to announce the development. But that''s enough about me, Chloe said you''re a software engineer, right Vi?"

    "Oh, yeah I work on backend stuff, nothing quite as flashy, just squashing bugs and reducing latency. Keeps the lights on." I say while gesturing around the room.

    "Don''t let her talk herself down," Harley chastises, "Without her, her company would be bankrupt in a we-"

    "Are you guys just gonna sit on the couch talking all night?!" Tommy cut in, stumbling over to the couch with a drink in hand.

    "Come on, it''s getting late, and we''re just getting started. I heard O''Keefe''s is having a karaoke night."

    ----

    The last thing I remembered was a large hand in mine, the ding of my building''s elevator, and the hypnotic scent of his woody cologne.

 Two

    Saturday

    7/26/25

    The morning sun, smell of cooking bacon, and sound of honking traffic downstairs climaxed into a cacophony of mental stimuli that drove me out of my rapturous coma. As I groaned and stretched to life, my leg kicked something hard. It didn''t take long to realize there were large arms around me, and a body attached to them as well. I knew I did something stupid last night. I have a terrible habit of doing dumb shit in my frequent states of inebriation. It''s really a wonder that Harley has put up with me this long, especially considering the number of times she wakes up with bruises from my somnambulism. I should probably sort this shit out.

    "Sleep well?" I say as I gently shake the strange man next to me. He seems to be in his mid-twenties like me, with an impressively muscular torso, and an expected lack of matching definition on his legs.

    As he stirs, memories of last night, albeit quite vague, come flooding back to me. I remember Harley leaving early, citing lack of sleep from one of her graphic design projects, as well as Chloe, Tommy, and I downing a few too many Pickle-back shots. Nothing too unusual for a Friday night. As the man finally seemed to regain consciousness, his face sparked the last memory of the night.

    "Wait, were you the guy who tried to convince me that he was an astronaut?" I ask, looking at him perplexed.

    "Guilty" he responded groggily, finally lifting his head and tussling his short brown hair. "I''m Mark by the way."

    "Nice to meet you Mark" I reply. "You wore a condom right?"

    "Huh? Oh yeah, I did. Despite your best efforts." He said while giving me a condemning smile.

    "You tried to bite it off like three times. I ended up having to fish the second one out of your pussy after you passed out on top of me."

    "Yeah that sounds about right for me." I say as I get up and grab a robe from the closet. "I''m going to take a shower, see yourself out at your earliest convenience. Watch out for Harley as you leave, she bites."

    "Do you want my number or something at least?" He asks while looking for his underwear, one sock already on.

    "Yeah, no, thanks though." I finally respond through the bathroom door as I fumble with the shower controls.

    "Alright, fuck you too bitch." Is the last thing I hear as the guest bedroom door closes.

    Fucking typical, I really gotta reevaluate my choices in men. At least the scolding hot shower will wash the shame off, and prepare me for the lecture that surely will come. Harley and I are polyamorous, but we have a rule in place that we should discuss things if we''re about to hook up with somebody else. Something I clearly have a bad habit of overlooking in my stupors.

    "This is gonna suck."

    ----

    Harley sat at in the breakfast nook, eating her omelet. She looked up as I walked out of the guest bedroom, still in my robe with a towel wrapped around my wet hair and pointed to the second plate she put out. The omelet would be delicious as always, filled with bacon, feta, and caramelized onions. The conversation would not be as tasty.

    "A finance bro, really Vivi?" She started. "I thought you''d have better taste at the very least"

    "I was drunk and he smelled good, that''s honestly my best defense." I respond, starting on my breakfast. What else could I even say at this point? She''s rightly disappointed that we didn''t discuss it. But she''s probably even more disappointed that I put myself in danger like that.

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    "Did you at least tell him before you hooked up?" She responds after a minute, taking a sip of her orange soda. "Why did I even ask, of course you didn''t."

    "You know how fucking stupid that is right? He could have killed you, he could have killed both of us! "

    "Yeah babe, I know." I reply quietly. "I''m not exactly known for making the best decisions under the influence."

    "So why the fuck do you keep letting go of yourself and blacking out Vi? I know you can handle your liquor. You''re doing it intentionally."

    "I honestly don''t know, It''s easier to let someone else take over sometimes." I say, finishing my omelet and chugging my water.

    Probably one of the most accurate points I''ve made in a while if I''m being honest. Truthfully, I''m fine with doing dumb shit and accepting the repercussions, as long as I''m the only one in danger. If my actions hurt those I love, that I can''t handle.

    "Listen, I know I''m a fucking idiot, and I hurt you. I''m obviously willing to take full accountability here. Can we finish this tonight? I''d really like to clear my head."

    "Whatever Vi, I gotta get some work done anyway. Just no more dumb shit please?" Harley responds, getting up putting the plates in the sink.

    "Yes ma''am." I finish, placing a kiss on her forehead.

    ----

    The air around Hudson River Park was uncharacteristically crisp and fresh for NYC summer air, it smelled of newly mowed grass and dandelions. Quite a stark distinction from the usual city''s baked trash scent. Combining the scent with the clear blue sky, calm river, and sounds of children playing and passing conversations allowed me a rare moment of idyllic peace in the chaos of Manhattan. I laid there, on the grass for hours, taking in the world and trying to get a grip on my spiraling thoughts.

    It''s been a little over two years since I made the jump, and a fuck ton of therapy, both inpatient and outpatient. Honestly, just seeing the look on my parents'' faces when they walked into my hospital room the next day probably doubled my therapy bills.

    I fell 35 feet that night, straight onto a downstairs neighbors concrete balcony, they discovered me a few minutes later.

    Crumpled in a pool of blood.

    I ended up with two broken femurs, a fractured hip, and two broken ribs on my right side. I was beyond lucky to even be alive. The doctors said that the only thing that saved me, aside from me missing the ground, was the fact that I was completely limp in my free fall. Nevertheless, I spent two weeks in the hospital, 6 months in inpatient rehab, and needed a lot of physical therapy to get back on my feet, so to speak.

    I''m certainly feeling better at the moment, both mentally and physically, but a lot of the underlying pain behind that decision still lingers. Not that I would necessarily do it again, but I certainly don''t hold any animosity towards the past version of me that did. Nevertheless, things are better now, so I just try to focus on the action items in my life, and minimizing any opportunities to form thoughts. Which brings me to my behavior last night; Harley is 100% correct to chastise me for bringing that random finance bro home, for many reasons. In all honesty, I''m a wildly different person when I''m intoxicated, I have the same motivations and desires, but my decision making skills are severely lacking. I see something I want, and I take it. Consequences be damned.

    I certainly won''t stop drinking, I don''t think I ever could, but I should at least try to limit myself to remain in control of my body. If I''m an alcoholic, at least I''m functional enough to hold down a good job and maintain my relationships for the most part. At least I have that going for me.

    ----

    Harley was on the couch watching some reality tv show when I got home. Lounging in her usual gray sports bra and black cotton shorts, her wavy brown hair tied up in a messy bun. She heard me come in and waved over the back of couch. So I plopped over next to her and we laid there for a couple episodes until we got the moxie to talk.

    "I''m sorry for grilling you like that in the morning Vi." She started. " I know everything I said was something you surely gave yourself plenty of shit about. You''re going through a lot and I get that."

    "No babe, you were right, I really do need to start getting my shit together, or at least try to control myself. I fucked up."

    She shrugged. "We''ll figure it out together, do you have anything planned tomorrow?"

    "I was just going to stay in and work on some side projects, why?" I reply.

    At that moment she flashed a devilish grin, walked over to the freezer and pulled out a small baggie. "Wanna go on a little trip?"

    "Our yearly molly drop? Always." I respond with an equally sinister smile.

 Three

    Sunday

    7/27/25

    The bedroom was hot, in every sense of the word. Between the oppressive summer heat, and our writhing dehydrated bodies, there was a genuine feeling as if one were thrown in a kiln. Our usually lavender bedsheets, now stained with presumably gallons of sweat and other fluids hung precariously off the bed as our indistinguishable mass of bodies undulated with the pulsing music and physical sensations.

    Harley and I started the night relatively tamely, we enjoyed our bodies together, every part of our skin now an erogenous zone. We licked, caressed, and indulged in every inch of flesh. We eventually decided to call an old friend over to join us in the celebrations. Max is a tall enby with long wavy red hair and an undercut, honestly the most androgynous person I''ve ever had to pleasure to meet, with the versatility to match. That, combined with their genuinely stoic features, made them the perfect addition to our night. They were happy to join in as per usual.

    We laid there for what felt like days, taking turns consuming each other, physically and spiritually.

    It''s honestly difficult to describe a regular molly experience to the lay person, let alone the experience that transpired tonight. There''s closest I can get to an apt description now that I''m sober is to ask you to imagine the following:

    You''re at a club, the music is pounding and you''re surrounded by thousands of people so close to you that you can practically taste them. As the music becomes more intense it somehow fuels your dancing more and more until it feels like you are literally being puppeteered by the rhythm. Your sense of self rapidly begins to slip away as you become part of the crowd, no thoughts, no consciousness, just the experience of being a part of a greater being, experiencing the world in a completely new way. Now combine that with sex and you''re like halfway there. Could not recommend enough if you''re fucked up like I am.

    Seemingly weeks later, the three of us laid there, a mass of limbs interwoven, catching our breaths and recovering from our own individual ordeals.

    The sun was fully up, and none of us had gotten any sleep. So we just closed our eyes and let the endorphins carry us off into oblivion.

    ----

    I was the first to wake up later that day, around 2pm. I was never good at sleeping in. It''s almost as if my internal clock yearns to wake up and start ticking itself, bring me along with it. I got up and let Harley and Max enjoy the rest of their slumber while I tried to get my life and brain back in order after the eventful night. A pot of coffee was made, and a plate of biscuits and jelly was left on the counter for the two as I cleaned up my own plate and got ready to go out for a few hours. I''ve found that the best way to recover from such trips was to get out into the sun before the serotonin withdrawals kick in and bring me down with them. So I went downstairs, grabbed a Citibike, and made for Hudson River Park.

    It wasn''t a long ride by any means but the bustling traffic and intense sunlight quickly brought me out of my reverie by the time I parked the bike and walked into the park. I was immediately confronted by the expected juxtaposition of it all. One block I''m in a busy downtown street, getting yelled at by a random uber driver for having the nerve to be on the road where I belong, next block, it''s a serene grassy knoll, with children playing adults of all ages enjoying the summer weather in their own very unique ways. It''s why I love the parks along the west side so much, there''s no limit to the amount of unique experiences one can have on days such as today. One day it''s eerily quiet and you can''t quite seem to figure out if you''re alone in the city or not. The next day, you''re accosted by a group of Pilates moms who Insist you''re in "their spot" on the grass, and get your joint stolen by a squirrel as you kindly relocate.

    Nevertheless, it was beautiful today, and I happily laid down my improvised blanket (an old yoga mat) to lay on, while I took in the sun and sights of the river. The Hudson, characteristically was full of kayakers, jet skis, container ships, and the depressing sight of New Jersey on the opposing bank, but that never stopped anyone from ignoring them all and pretending they were on a beach in St. Tropez.

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    Once adequately situated and laid down comfortably, I let my mind wander and reflect on this week''s occurrences, from the usual bullshit at work, to the party of Friday, to the seemingly brief weekend, lack of sleep included. It was honestly better than most weekends I have in a year, old friends caught up with, stresses alleviated, stories written to recount over brunch eventually. Except for the one itch that seemed to relive itself in my brain. For some reason the conversation with Chloe and James kept replaying in my brain like a damned ear worm. I know I didn''t say anything stupid, so why was I so instant on remembering it? Something about his job and field of study tickled me unlike anything else as of late. He said he was able to modify mouse genomes to get them to regrow limbs, and with promising options of human trials. That''s great and all, but why would my crossfaded brain latch on to that so much?

    It took two hours for the circuitous thoughts to finally resolve the conflict, and by the time they did I was nearly frantic with potential. They fucking reprogramed the mouse''s genomes and made their bodies construct anything they wanted then too. Sure, in this case it was missing limbs. But what''s the difference between a missing leg, and one that was never there? There''s no hardwired number of legs gene right? Even if, you could edit that too surely, where does the line really draw? If this technology is as promising as he said it was, what really distinguishes coding and computer science from genetics and biology? Sounds like just a different language to me. If a mouse can regrow a leg, what''s to stop a human from changing their own physiology?

    Upon that realization and the spiraling thoughts that followed, I was no longer able to sit still and enjoy the day in the park, it served its purpose nevertheless. The bike ride back to Chelsea and my apartment was exceedingly short as my body worked on autopilot, brain too occupied to pilot it consciously. I opened the door to find Max and Harley gone, the former back home with a promise to catch up soon on a post it, and the latter away for the night to catch up with some old friends. That left me alone in the apartment, with a brain full of ideas, and the Internet at my disposal.  Not even the serotonin withdrawal could keep me down tonight.

    ----

    I spent 7 hours on Google that day, and read countless scientific papers on the subject and many corollaries. All that, and no consensus to draw on. The research that had been fine so far has been on lab animals, and with few practical applications. Mice were made hairless, they regrew limbs, and genetic diseases were seemingly cured in them. But nothing practically transferable as of yet. Those studies were deemed impossibly unethical at the moment. The human genome was seemingly sacred and immutable. The most I could find was a promising treatment for sickle cell anemia in African Americans. Why am I even surprised? Medical science often moves at a glacial pace, especially with the ever dwindling grant funding for novel research available, I should have known. It would probably take decades to see any meaningful progress on modifying the human genome at best, the ethics committees would block it to eternity. Rightfully so. That left me with two major blockers to getting the answers that would truly satisfy this craving, financial, and ethical. Both massive hurdles. Such research would cost millions of dollars, and few rational humans would ever willingly subject themselves to such trials. I don''t blame them, the usual financial incentive for grad students is nice, but it won''t convince them to let their peers alter their genomes after all.

    These are the kind of nights I would never tell my therapist about, I''m supposed to be working on myself and my self image issues. Hours of research into vague scientific disciplines are far from that. So is letting myself get carried away on a distant idea of possibly fixing my issues one and for all. After all, such notions are never truly fixed, they are alleviated and overcome through countless hours of self discovery and communication. I''ve been told many times how unhealthy my obsession is with resolving issues,

    I''ve even been told it''s a residual part of my male brain that refuses to cope with emotional turmoil, and instead seeks practical and logical resolution to emotional problems.

    That''s precisely what''s happening here, and I am fully willing to admit it.

    I refute the "male brain" argument, that''s fucking bullshit. Cis women try to practically resolve their issues just as much as cis men, they just do it differently and relay different aspects of the situation. I don''t think all mental health issues can or should be resolved with a simple mindfulness exercise. If you could tackle it head on, why wouldn''t you?

    So that''s exactly what I did.

 Four

    Monday

    7/28/25

    Waking up in the morning was truly arduous. I barely got 4 hours of sleep, yet I felt strangely awake, but also drunk on exhaustion. I remember Harley dragging me from the living room into bed at some ungodly hour, and that''s just about it. The night was a void, yet my dreams were full of vague hope. A childhood relived, a first kiss, newly formative years. Nothing concrete enough to recount, but the feelings were there, and I let them carry me into the week. I ate my quick breakfast and headed into the office as usual.

    The trip to the GWS office in Red Hook was longer than usual, it took an hour to get through the closure of the A train tunnel and onto the F, but that was really just the start of my troubles for the day. I got into the office 32 minutes late, and walked into a last-minute town hall meeting where the CEO announced the third series of layoffs this year.

    Yitzy, our 76-year-old balding CEO and his entire suite of out of touch execs, sat there numbly on screen while he monologued for what felt like hours about fiscal issues and promised growth through vague AI development. Typical. The meeting ended with 14 coworkers gone, tears shed, and numerous complaints from R&D. Thankfully, I was spared, along with most of my department and friends in the company.

    By the end of the day I had gotten about 4 hours of work "done", in reality I spent most of it metaphorically banging my head against the wall that was the bugs in my code. I was able to push one patch that optimized server efficiency by 1% and only crashed in rare circumstances. Most of the issues in the code were characteristically unresolved. Between the constant disgruntled chatter of my colleagues, difficult bugs, and noise in my brain, I just couldn''t keep myself in line long enough to form more than five coherent thoughts. Needless to say, it wasn''t the best day, and today''s mental health quickly went from optimistic to downright pissed off. Thankfully, the trains were running decently by the time I went home.

    ----

    I get home and shout out "Hey babe, it''s me" as I walk through the door and start putting my keys and bag down. I''m wearing my usual work outfit;

    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.A plain top and black jeans with docs. I spot Harley sitting on the couch watching some random show on TV.

    "Hey", she responds demurely.

    "All good baby?, it''s been a long day for me too."

    She looks at me over the couch briefly and replies, "yeah I''m fine." before turning back to her show.

    I''ve known Harley long enough to know her tells, by the time I get home from work she usually has at least 2 stories to excitedly recall, and is seldom curt unless something is wrong. Needless to say, something clearly happened. I walk over and sit on the couch, "What''s wrong, baby?". I say as I review her. She''s in her usual home clothes, with the exception of an uncharacteristic black hoodie over them. That''s definitely weird, we keep the apartment warm.

    "Had a run-in with some teenagers." She replies, finally looking up at me. Her cheek bruised.

    "God fucking damn it babe, what happened, where, when?"

    "On the way home with the groceries, they called me a fag, and followed me. I fought them off with my taser, but they got a few hits in. I''m fine."

    "Fuck, good thing you had it on you, did you tell anyone? Are you okay?" I respond, unzipping her hoodie and looking her over. She didn''t protest. She had a few bruises on her torso, but nothing serious.

    "No, it''s fine." She responds curtly.

    "Do you remember their faces, or where you were when it happened?"

    "Yeah" she says, looking back at her show.

    "Okay good, do you wanna file a report?"

    She looks at me and back down as she thinks for a while, eventually getting her thoughts together and responding, "yeah".

    ----

    It took the cops about an hour to get to our place, and another 2 hours to get the report from Harley. I stayed with her the whole time, silently reassuring her that it was okay and they could help. Neither of us believed it, of course, but we might as well try. The cops were initially dismissive as usual but eventually came about with some convincing. Harley spent the hours monotonous and timid, which was understandable. By the time we were done, it was nearly midnight, and we were both exhausted in every sense of the word. Three bottles of wine were quickly drunk, and we passed out in bed holding each other for sanity. This wasn''t the first time we''ve been through this, but maybe it could be the last.

 Five

    5/8/16

    My old Volkswagen rumbled to a stop on the eerily quiet farm road outside of the small town in upstate NY. This area was always really creepy, but the farmer died a few years ago, and nobody has really used this land for anything much since, so it was safe. My friends and I have been coming here for a while, it''s our smoke spot. Far enough from Geneseo for the cops and sheriffs to not actually bother patrolling much. We would spend hours here laughing our asses off and telling stories while the weed made its way through every neuron of our minds, and the smoke filtered through our lungs. That''s not really why I''m here now, though.

    I shift the car into park and turn the lights off, the sheer darkness takes over. It''s 3am, the witching hour. Places like these really make you understand why we gave the hour such a moniker. The darkness, the seclusion, the cacophony of crickets, the trees groaning in the wind, the overwhelming stars, it''s quite primal. I take a deep breath and take a few more final hits of my joint. I''m fucking zooted. Weed, Adderall, wine, caffeine, and plenty of nicotine were tonight''s cocktail, the usual suspects when studying all night for an exam. I finished studying and snuck out here while my roommates were asleep. This place always gives me the tranquility I need to knock out.

    As I take a deep breath and open the door I''m once again confronted by the sheer emptiness of the place, I''m alone, really fucking alone. Finally. I take out my flashlight and shine it into the woods. The beam roams across various patches of trees and underbrush, and gangs of crickets stop and start their chatter until I finally spot my trail. I cautiously start walking, heels clicking on the rough gravel road.

    I shouldn''t be out here, especially now, especially not dressed like this. These heels are terrible to walk in, this dress is catching on the underbrush every other minute, this wig is just bad, but something about it feels right. As if the farther I walk and the more I put myself in dangerous situations, the more free I am. I feel like myself. Here, among the silent old growth and god only knows what else, dressed in bad drag, I feel right. That''s certainly not normal behavior. But I wasn''t a normal child, and I''m not a normal teenager, I''ve always had these urges. Thankfully, nobody knows.

    The clearing always sneaks up on me, one minute you''re awkwardly trudging through underbrush and trying not to snap your ankles like a racehorse, the next minute you''re on flat land, and the sky is beckoning. I make my way to the center, and let my body collapse among the tall grass. The sky. The fucking sky is overwhelming, there''s simply no other word for it. The stars feel three-dimensional, I mean, they are, but it''s easy to forget that sometimes. Not here. I feel as if I''m among the stars, as if I can reach out and touch Sirius, as if, if I simply wait for Betelgeuse to supernova, I can take my place on Orion''s shoulder. It''s absolutely terrifying and wonderful at the same time. This is why I come here, this is why I put myself in danger, I can finally feel something. I feel quite a lot to be honest, alone in this clearing, I let my emotions free and give into the existential fear and euphoria.

    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    The tears came over me hot and fast, I was suddenly dizzy with feeling, they weren''t the cute quiet sobs upon the visage of an adorable baby, they were sudden and violent. Years. Years. I prayed for fucking years to a god even my childhood self knew wasn''t real, on the vague hope that maybe something would change the next morning, the hope that I would wake up and look down to see what I knew was right. It was for nothing. Once I gave up on the dead or nonexistent god, I gave up on myself and endeavored to shove that part of me into a box and lock her away forever. It worked, for a time. After a year or so, she began knocking on the lid of her coffin, and eventually broke out. I was 10, and I cried quietly alone for weeks before I mustered the courage or cowardice to lock her back in that box. She would break out again and again over the years, and I would lock her up again every time. I was too ashamed and afraid to truly confront her, so I just locked her up and made myself behave as I thought I should. Surely, everyone felt this way, right?

    Puberty came late, but with it came changes that distracted me or devastated me, depending on the day. I grew tall, handsome, and strong. I had plenty of friends, and women loved me, that helped occasionally. But she was still there, banging on the lid of her box, in the back of my mind. I could never truly kill her in a way that mattered. So I started to let her out occasionally, always alone, always in carefully controlled and supervised environments. That''s how I ended up here, crying in the woods at 4am in cheap drag. This has worked so far, but in the back of my head I know she''ll grow restless for more, she''ll want to see the world, the real world, and I''ll eventually become the one in the box. The uncertainty is terrifying, I love her and I know she''ll be great, but it won''t be easy for her. I''ll go into the box quietly and willingly, I''ll let her live when the time comes.

 Six

    Friday

    8/1/25

    The workweek has been atypically slow and arduous, but that''s what happens when you''re stuck dealing with inept management and unruly code. Unfortunately, I knew my home life wouldn''t be much easier. Harley is still messed up over the situation on Monday, and my mind is no less chaotic than it''s been all week. Harley has spent the majority of her leisure time either with a bottle of wine and a joint or half asleep on the couch. I honestly don''t blame her or her coping mechanisms. It''s not healthy, but I sure as shit am no better, so what can I really say? I''ve done what I can do best, console her when she''ll have me, and incentivize a more solid diet. The silver lining to all the bullshit is that I''ve had more time for research during my late nights.

    I haven''t found much, to be honest. But over the many hours I have started isolating particular genes to experiment with, methods to possibly control them, and most promisingly, I now have people to talk to. Granted, they''re nowhere near as blindly ambitious as I am, but it''s a start.

    One of the benefits of living in New York is the large population of wealthy tech and finance bros. Young egotistical men who have spare money, time, and deep insecurities. So, naturally, they turn to unconventional means to stay young and healthy. Not that I''m much better, of course. The normies among them have their trendy diets and absurd exercise regiments, but there''s an ever-growing population of biohackers who have decided to take their biology into their own hands, quite literally. It''s simple on the surface level, NFC chips into their palms so they don''t have to pull their wallets or phones out to pay for drinks, or magnets in their fingers for electrical engineers to feel electromagnetic currents in wires. That''s the surface level. But there''s an ever-growing population of them who''ve actually started tweaking their genomes and biology as well. It''s still super simple, single gene changes, eye color, hair color, etc. But it is a start, and they have communities, and resources. So I made my way into one of their larger Discord servers on Wednesday, and after a lengthy and expensive vetting process, got myself into a meetup tonight at a quiet bar in Bushwick.

    Most people would be wary of these types of situations, but not me, I know these people. I went to school with them, partied with them, and worked with them on the regular. Behind all their desperate attempts at attention, immorality, wealth, and fame, deep down all they really want is love and admiration. Just someone to compliment their ideas, and tell them they''re special. So that''s my plan, join their conversations as eye candy, take notes, and use them for whatever I can. I''m most interested in speaking to the headliner of tonight''s meeting, a man named Alton Ericks. He sequenced his own genome in his spare time, fed it into a custom designed neural net, and now uses it to recommend him medical treatments on a whim. He just feeds it regular vitals and bloodwork, and gets personalized medicinal regimens to maintain his "youth and vitality". I''ve spared you the bullshit and jargon, but that''s quite promising for me. While creating a custom neural net isn''t easy, I can do it with enough time and data, and I can easily feed it my genome as well. I just gotta tweak some output parameters to recommend what I actually want.

    I''ve settled on what I actually want to do with this little pet project of mine. First, I''m going to start with simple trials, single gene tweaks that are easily visible. Namely, I''ll try to change my eye color from brown to green. This is controlled by two genes: OCA2 and HERC2, but focusing on the prior should be more than enough, and ensure that I have my methodology down. I''ve always wanted green eyes anyway, and such a simple change has a very slim chance of actually hurting me eventually. So tonight''s goal is to convince a tech bro to advise me, and potentially help financially. Just a foot in the door for future, more daring ideas.

    ----

    I showed up for the event about 30 minutes late in a modest navy wrap dress with my hair down. Don''t wanna distract them too much. The meet and greet was almost over, but I was able to grab a quick Negroni from the bar, and listen in on a remarkably dull conversation regarding using AI facial scanning to predict future diseases. Somehow, these guys can often make the most promising and fascinating topics bland and monotonous. I''ve been to this bar before, "Nowadays" usually had an eclectic mix of artsy types and families due to its large outdoor space. But today it was unusually quiet and reserved, the large majority of the crown having been seated in anticipation of the speakers in the spacious parklike venue.

    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    The first speaker would be Ryan Holmes, who claims to have the power to "disrupt the supplement industry with AI personalized homeopathic remedies". Followed by Johnathan Naz, a biomedical engineer who''s trying to advocate for replacing functional organs with experimental implants so he can drink more.

    Lastly was Alton, who I''m really here to speak to, sadly the first two speakers were exhausting and verbose, so by the time Alton stepped onto the stage I was weary and tipsy, not enough to cause me issues, but certainly enough to reduce my social aptitudes. Alton was about 5''8 with ear - length curly brown hair, sporting a green button down shirt and brown trousers. Not particularly attractive, but certainly better than the majority of the group. He went on for about 30 minutes describing in painstaking detail just how he designed his neural net, followed by another 16 minutes of his future ambitions, which of course included anti aging and personalized fitness regimes. But it was worth it for the quality notes I was able to jot into my phone. As he concluded his presentation and stepped off the stage demurely I recognized my time to shine and prepared myself for the conversation. I waited patiently for him to refill his drink at the bar, eagerly respond to viewers'' questions, and get a minute to himself. That''s when I approached.

    I decide to sneak up from behind and open with, "So the infamous young scientist actually does get time to unwind?" In my sing-song teasing voice. The confidence is fake, of course, but years of manifesting self-love has taught me how to deceive others much better than how to deceive myself.

    "It seems I''m not as popular in this crowd as I thought I''d be, maybe it''s my accent. He had a mild British accent at best, nothing too strong, but it probably made him feel special, so I used that.

    "I actually think it''s quite sophisticated. I''m curious though, how did you come up with the idea of training an LLM on nucleotides?"

    He took a solid 30 seconds to look me up and down before replying rather slowly. "It''s not that crazy, is it? Genomes are practically a language, it''s like translating Kanji to English, with less grammatical rules, and larger stakes. The model is a black box anyway, I just fed it training data and refined my outputs."

    I followed his appraisal with one of my own, just to throw him off and even out the discomfort before I replied. "I get that, but how did you perfect the training system, there''s much less syntax and grammar than there is in natural languages, you can''t exactly analyze nucleotides as if you would words."

    He waited patiently as I slowly formed my question as precisely as possible for maximum bandwidth, lovingly caressing his glass in his right hand, and pondered the query for a solid minute before replying. "What''s your name love?, let''s start off simply before we get into the real weeds. I''m Alton, as you likely know."

    "Vivie....Vi" I respond curtly, correcting myself. Best not to be too forthcoming at this point. "Sorry, I was a bit excited."

    "No trouble, Vi, it''s a pleasure to meet you. "As for the answer to your question, this is probably not the best venue for such in depth conversations. I could lecture for hours on the most trivial topics. I am intrigued, though, what sparked such a curiosity in you? You don''t exactly seem like the type of girl for such an event."

    He finished that question with an exaggerated glance around our surroundings and the crowd.

    I let out a brief chuckle before responding, "Fair point, I apologize for bombarding you out of nowhere. I''m new to this whole scene."

    I say while gesturing vaguely around me. "To be honest, I was researching changing my eye color for typically vain reasons, and eventually stumbled my way here. But I am a software engineer, so I do have a modicum of relevant knowledge. Where do you think would be a more appropriate place for such discussions, Alton?"

    "Can''t say there are many better places, Vi, but how about my home? I don''t mean to sound forward, not that you''re not... cute, but that''s where my lab and equipment is. Maybe we could help each other, considering our backgrounds?"

    Well shit, either that was easy because he''s coming on to me, or he genuinely is that friendly, but I''m not going to let such an opportunity pass me by. Fuck the consequences, I need the insight. "Sounds good, when and where?"

    He looked me in the eyes and gave me a savage little smirk before gently grabbing my hand and saying "Tomorrow, noon, enjoy your night Vi." He winked and proceeded to walk away before I could even ask him where the fuck he lives.

    It wasn''t until I snapped out of my reverie that I realized I was holding something. A business card? I didn''t feel it at first because it wasn''t the right size and shape. But lo and behold was his name, address and phone number printed on a delicate piece of material. Except it didn''t feel like fabric at all, it was a tan color, somewhat supple with thin rounded edges, and engraved black text set into the larger texture of the material. It almost looked like... skin? No fucking way could it be, but goddamn it did look and feel like the real thing.

    I guess I''m either gonna learn a lot this weekend, or seriously regret my choices. Only one way to find out...

 Seven

    Saturday

    8/2/25

    "Showtime, showtime, showtime!" Yelled the towering figure walking through the inter-car doors of the N train, he was quickly followed by two of his friends and a massive speaker blaring a skull-thumping EDM song. The men were tall, dark skinned, and muscular, with typical street performer confidence. They quickly ignored the silent groans and eye rolls of the cart''s passengers and began their routine. They danced and flipped dramatically throughout the carts, expertly using the poles for leverage and building momentum with the movements of the train car. At least, I only have two stops left. I decided to put my book away and fish out my earbuds, opting for some noise cancellation to help me think and parse out the plan for today''s meeting.

    "This is...thirtieth avenue, the next stop is... Astoria Boulevard..."

    "Stand clear of the closing doors, please!"

    Ok, two stops left. Then a 30-minute walk to Alton''s house on 49th street. I resolved to watch the scenery of Astoria and the uptown skyline behind it roll by as I desperately tried to put my thoughts coherently together. Life has honestly been so chaotic as of late, and my behavior is not helping the situation. Between the usual stress of work, my relationship, and maintaining a social life, I usually have my hands full. But for some godforsaken reason, my monkey brain decided to tack on the stress of highly unethical and experimental gene therapy and collaborating with underground biohackers?

    What the actual fuck is wrong with me?

    I''m not going to stop, of course, I have the potential to achieve something truly special, the potential to properly take my life and body into my hands and sculpt myself into the best version of me possible. I have the potential for true happiness. Yes, it''s going to hurt, it will be dangerous as all hell, and I have a very real possibility of permanently destroying the body I''ve worked so hard to achieve over the years. But for me, the possibilities outweigh the risks. I''ve always been content with death after all. Worst-case scenario, my death can be a learning experience for someone in the future. Maybe the biohackers will write about me, perhaps a sad lonely girl will get to become herself due to my sacrifice one day. Hopefully, I''ll be there with her.

    "This is the last stop on this train...everyone, please leave the train...thank you for riding with MTA New York City transit."

    The automated message quickly snapped me out of my reverie as the train finished pulling into the busy station and opened the doors.

    ----

    Alton''s house was a modestly sized duplex in a late 20th century fashion, with exposed red bricks on the facade. It was surrounded by multiple blocks of the similarly quietly wealthy homes that were popular in "suburbs" like Astoria. The neighborhood had been gentrified twice over the last 50 years and it showed. The main drag of Ditmars Blvd was adorned with every kind of upscale restaurant and shop, and surrounded by well sized single and dual family homes, all in the millions of dollars, despite their former working-class nature. The people who lived here either bought their house in the 20th century for a reasonable price, or recently for at least triple that.

    He answered the doorbell soon after I rang it, in what I''ve quickly come to learn is his trademark little smirk.

    "To be honest, I wasn''t quite sure you''d come, the business card usually scares new people away. Please come in, it''s sweltering." He opened the door wider and gestured inside as he finished. I was immediately confronted with the comforting scent of frankincense and pine.

    "Thank you, you have a lovely home, I honestly didn''t know what to expect. The card definitely threw me off for a hot second. It''s human, I''m guessing?"

    "Wouldn''t be interesting if it wasn''t, now would it? It''s cultured from stem cells obviously, I''m not a monster." He was wearing an expensive looking pair of dark blue sweatpants with an old white college T-Shirt, emblazoned with the oxford logo. I looked around the foyer and noticed the large shoe rack and his bare feet on the wooden flooring. Must be a shoes-off household. I began unlacing mine, in compliance with the hint.

    "Fair enough, it''s certainly a power move to use that for a business card. Is that your alma mater?" I respond, pointing at his top.

    "Oh, this old thing? Yeah, never finished that degree, but It made my father happy that I carried on the family legacy, fortunately for me, he died before he could complain. He turned and started leading me into the living room. Obviously satisfied with the conclusion of the mandatory small talk. "Could I get you some water, tea, wine?"

    "No, thank you, I''m okay for now." I reply promptly, taking in the room. The living room and connected dining room were spacious by NYC standards, with cream walls, plentiful art prints and well-matched furniture. He seems to be a bachelor, but he certainly doesn''t live like the average one.

    "Suit yourself, now what can I do for you, Vi? You must have a good reason to have come all this way." He spoke while plopping down on the softly cushioned gray couch and motioning for me to join him on a matching armchair cornering him.

    I took a minute to gather my thoughts and sit down as indicated before responding.

    "It''s simple really, you''re one of the best in the area as far as I can tell, and I''d like to learn from you. Maybe I can help, if you have anything you could leverage my talents for in return. I''m not looking to make any crazy edits, but I definitely would like to learn as much as I can. I spoke as confidently and eloquently as I could, despite the lies.

    He stared me in the eyes for what felt like minutes, parsing me and my statement before replying. "No you''re not. You want more than that. You are clearly smart and ambitious, not just some vain young girl looking to be a little prettier. Please don''t bullshit me in my own home. I invited you here as a gesture of goodwill, if you can''t trust the man handing our home-grown human skin business cards with such things, who can you trust?"

    The cold sweats started immediately as he spoke, he''s intense and calculating, clearly heavily analytical. But he did have a point, if I''m going to seriously pursue this, I can''t do it alone, and his information is held hostage in return for my honesty. I took a deep breath and stared him in the eyes. "Look at me and tell me what you see, be honest, and don''t hold back."

    He smirked his smirk and took me in for a minute before grabbing a cigarette out of his pack on the coffee table, lighting it, and leaning back on his couch. "You''re in your late twenties, intelligent, insecure, and you''ve clearly had work done."

    "What else?"

    His smirk deepened and his brow twitched. "You''re trans, aren''t you? It''s difficult to tell, you are attractive, but the hints are there now that I''m really looking."

    "Ding, ding, ding, I respond quietly."

    "So what? You want to grow yourself a uterus? Swap your Y''s for X''s? You can speak to me, I know my country has a...reputation, but I''m not of such a mindset."

    "Oh god no, I''m not fucking insane!" I let emotion return to my face and mannerisms as I continued. "I want to start small, single gene edits, but if that works, I would like to move on to more complex edits. I''ve done some research, and I''ve decided that BMP4 and GDF11 are good candidates for high-level experiments. I know light-activated CRISPR could be used to selectively control gene expression in certain areas."

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    BMP4 (Bone Morphogenetic Protein 4) is a gene that controls bone formation, maintenance, and density. While it is primarily responsible for early development, I''ve read that under-expression in adults is attributed to reduced density and length, especially in areas such as the face and shoulders. Which is why I quickly narrowed down my search to this gene as my principal interest. GDF11 (Growth differentiation factor 11), on the other hand, has a role in skin and muscle regeneration, making it quite useful for use as an anti-aging treatment, and reducing my overall muscle mass. I''m pretty sure that selectively modifying these genes with light-activated CRISPR would allow me to reduce the expression of BMP4 in the face and Increase GDF11 expression in the same area, effectively shrinking my facial bones, and preserving my youthful features as I age. All with theoretically little to no impact on the rest of my body. I intend to target other parts as well, of course.

    He leaned over and subtly lowered his voice. "No offense, love, but you are bloody insane. Sure, you''re not talking about whole chromosome replacement, but these are major ideas you are toying with. You do realize the risks with doing something as serious as editing your bone density, don''t you?"

    "Of course I do, but I frankly don''t really care, I''m at the end of what I can accomplish otherwise, and it''s not enough for me. I''m unwell, this could help, and I can do it, it''s that simple for me. I''m not scared of cancer, disease, or death."

    He knocked the ashes off his cigarette into the crystal ashtray on the coffee table and looked at me sternly. "What about the people in your life who do care Vi, I''m sure you have plenty of loved ones, do they even know what you''re considering?"

    I leaned over and returned his crippling stare. "Of course they don''t know, but at the end of the day, they''ll lose me if I fail, and they''ll lose me if I don''t try. So in my eyes, I really have no choice. I''m willing to be a guinea pig if it means that I can potentially help myself, and others in the future. Fuck the ethics, we have the technology, if someone is willing to use it without hurting others, what''s the harm?"

    "What happens if you succeed then? Where will you stop? You''re already attractive enough, I''m sure most people don''t know of your past self, from what I''ve seen, it''s difficult to stop once you''ve started."

    I took quite a while pondering this. He made a good point, I honestly don''t know when, or if I''d actually stop. I intended to burn that bridge when I got to it. I decided to open my mouth and let the honest part of my brain speak for me. "I''ll stop when I think I''m happy, I''ll stop when people tell me I''ve changed as a person for the better, my mental state affects not just me, but the people I love when I''m alive as well. I can''t keep coping like this, they don''t deserve that." At this point, the tears came out hot and fast on their own accord. I rarely cry, but the most sure fire way to get me in the mood is thinking about my actions actually impacting those I love. I am so perfectly fine with hurting myself. I''ve been doing it my entire life, but I cannot bear to hurt others.

    Alton graciously allowed the conversation to drift off as I composed myself. While uncomfortable with the premise of my ideas, he has clearly been weighing them on their merits and potential ramifications. After an eternity, he lowered his head, put out his cigarette, stood up, and quietly reached his hand out to usher me to follow him.

    I composed myself and followed. When he spoke again, it was quiet and curt. "If you''re going to do this, I won''t be able to stop you. I hardly know you, but I can''t sit idly by knowing someone could hurt themselves unassisted. Plus, this could help not only us, but others as well."

    I followed him downstairs to his finished basement, the vibe of the room was dramatically different from that of the lovely home above. While not a stereotypically sterile laboratory, the effort was clearly made to make the setting professional, and reduce the risk of compounding variables. The walls were stark white, with similarly light epoxy flooring. The handful of stainless-steel benches around the room were outfitted with various pieces of equipment such as microscopes, centrifuges, hot plates, and others I couldn''t name, but the overall effect was certainly that of a semi-professional research facility. One bench stood out due to its familiarity, located next to an industrial server rack, it housed a large expensive looking PC, and four monitors.

    He noticed my attention on the server rack and responded to clarify. "The model is housed on site for safety, nothing in this room is network accessible. It''s called Clara, I''ve always been a Doctor Who fan." He punctuated that last statement with a gentle smile and continued. "I''m free on Tuesday nights, you can come here then to work, I''ll advise you and steer you as needed, but you are responsible for your materials, and equipment damage. In return, I get full ownership of any intellectual property that you produce in this regard. You should have everything you require here for the basics, but there''s room for more equipment as required, you will be responsible for those bills. Do we have a deal?"

    Holy fucking shit, this is happening, its actually happening, and he''s helping me! I allowed the joy and exhilaration to overcome me internally for a hot second before responding. "Deal." Fuck the IP, I''m not here for fame or money, he can have it also, I just want my life back.

    "Have you had your genome sequenced yet?"

    The question took me by surprise. Why haven''t I done that? It''s relatively cheap and easy, the obvious first step in such pursuits. My excitement must have gotten ahold of me before I could think of it. "Actually, I haven''t, can we do that here?"

    "We could, but it''s not worth it, there are economies of scale for that, I''ll send you a place that can do it quickly. Text me so I can have your number, I''ll send you a link tomorrow."

    I turned back to look at him properly, he looked...calm, earnest, downright dedicated to this, to me. "Alton, I don''t know what to say, this means so much to me. The fact that you''re willing to do so much for someone you just met with lofty ambitions, it means so much to me, thank you."

    "This is not charity love, this is an investment, I can tell you''ll achieve something. I will be the one to reap the benefits when you do. If that''s a sacrifice you''re willing to make, I am more than happy to work with you." He punctuated his statement with a wink, and began walking back upstairs. "Unfortunately, you cannot stay for much longer today I have things to do. Please reach out to me when you have the sequencing results, and we will begin there."

    ----

    "Where the hell have you been, Vi? I''ve hardly seen or heard from you the last two days! I''ve been worried sick! We''re not fucking roommates." Harley was on me as soon as I walked through the door of our apartment. Fair enough, I have been MIA, I probably should have made up an excuse or something to explain my absence. Luckily, she wasn''t home last night due to a work trip in Jersey.

    "Shit, sorry I forgot to text, I had some drinks with a coworker in Queens and crashed at her place since it was late." The lie came to me quickly and naturally, I''ve been known to do similar things in the past, so it did add up.

    "Yeah okay whatever." She responded flippantly, turning back to face the TV. The conversation having ended unusually abruptly.

    I recognize this behavior, peak Harley exasperation with one''s behavior. I muttered a quick, "god fucking damn it." Under my breath and braced myself for the onslaught that would surely follow my prying into her mental state. "What''s wrong babe?"

    She looked back at me, paused her show, and gave me a dismissively hurt face before replying. "I spent all night in fucking Jersey thinking of you and wanting nothing more than to cuddle up in bed and watch some shitty show together. That kept me going pretty much all week, to be honest. You''ve been so distant recently that I barely feel like I get time with you, even when you''re next to me. So I was excited to finish work and spend the weekend with my Girlfriend. But lo and behold, when I get home she''s nowhere to be found, no note and texts unanswered. Now you''re here and half the weekend is already gone, not to mention the fact that you were likely to spend the last few hours that we would have had left tonight on your fucking computer, basically ignoring me. I feel unloved Vi, it feels like you''ve discarded me for whatever new hyper-focus you''ve found. Just like you always do. You''re here with me when I''m needed, but when I need you, you''re off doing your thing. That''s what''s fucking wrong."

    Great, great, there goes the positivity and optimism I''ve been building up all day. Ruined as usual by the struggles of maintaining a relationship under massive amounts of stress and depression. Fucking typical. "I''m sorry I can''t always be here when you need me Harley, unfortunately I have my own life to attend to at times. Sure I could have skipped out on my plans last night, but I really didn''t think I had to, you certainly made no mention of any of this until just now. So how the hell was I supposed to know what you were going through? I can''t read your fucking mind from across the city."

    She responded to me with a criminalizing stare and a curt reply. "You shouldn''t have to be told to pay attention to your partner every once in a while."

    "Why the hell do you need so much attention Harley? You''re a fucking adult, learn to self soothe." The cruelty came out of my mouth before I could stop it, and I immediately felt terrible on behalf of the subconscious workings of my brain. The premise of the question was accurate, the wording was certainly not. Fuck

    The face she gave me was nothing short of outright disgust, I don''t blame her.

    "Because I have nobody else Vi, just you, and you barely seem to give a shit. Fuck off and speak to me when you''re ready to be a real partner."

    I took her cue and gingery stepped into the guest bedroom, resolving to give her the space she needs, and to allow myself the time to figure out how to dig myself out of this hole.

 Eight

    Sunday

    8/3/25

    Harley

    Am I just some fucking idiot or something?

    Or did I just miss something early on? This isn''t the Vivienne I fell in love with - something''s not right, something''s just missing. I know her all too well, and I know the signs when she''s hyper focusing in an unhealthy, even dangerous way. You''d think after all these years of conversations about communication it''d be somewhere to be seen or heard or felt or some kinda new fucking sense invented just for it - but that''s a big fat fucking NOPE! After all these years, her walls are still standing strong and offering no way inside, unless she drowns herself in enough booze first, and even then, most of what she says isn''t even coherent.

    So why do I even try? Why do I even care? Why am I the one that always feels so guilty for just feeling this way?

    Don''t go mistaking this, either, ok - I love her more than any other person on this ridiculous rock, but...at the same time...why? I can''t find any kind of answer. Half of the time I just feel like set dressing for the grand ole show, just some background NPC for when she wants the entertainment of some hollow romance. The other half of the time I get to play the nanny, the maid, the babysitter - she always says, "it''ll work itself out"- but it doesn''t, it never "works itself out"- I work it out. I clean up the messes. I fix the problems. And I''d continue doing it cuz I care about her and I don''t want anything to happen to her, but what the fuck? Why am I still bothering? I feel like I need to be able to answer that question and I want to be able to answer that question, and yet I can''t fucking do it. And again, don''t go mistaking this in like a - in a way that makes it seem... I still love her, I''m not saying that. Despite all the bullshit - and there is so

    much more to it, by the way - but despite it all, I still love her and I can''t stop loving her as mad as she makes me and as hard as she makes life sometime.

    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    Is that sad? Is that pathetic? Or is it cruel? Am I the real bitch here, cuz I could use an outside opinion for once...

    Everyone deserves love, right? I''ve heard that plenty of times from plenty of people before, and if it is true, then do I not deserve someone better?

    No, wait, I don''t mean it like that - that seemed...mean...

    I thought transitioning would make life a little easier for me, I really fucking did. I trusted the "it gets better" campaign, the positive messages of activists and organizations alike, and I patiently waited my turn for the smallest piece of the pie - any pie, I didn''t care. And all it''s done is ruin me.

    Friends?

    Gone.

    Family?

    Gone.

    Career?

    Gone.

    I don''t get to be like Vi. I don''t get to ever keep anything. I don''t get to say that I haven''t really lost anything in my transition like she does. She even gets to move up in the world, gets treated like she''s welcome in it, gets to feel like she belongs in it. And I get to lose absolutely everything without gaining anything in its absence. Still, she''s the one who gets to be salty all the fucking time. She''s the one who has a botched suicide and gets to be pampered like a princess, while the rest of us get carted off to some psych ward and drowned in medical debt because we don''t show signs of "getting over it." Fuck her. She picked one of the best lots in the drawing and doesn''t appreciate a fraction of it. Fuck her. Fuck her depression. Fuck her for getting served happiness on a silver platter and just taking it for granted. You know how much I would give to have her life - how much so many people would probably give to have her life? And she tosses it aside, doesn''t even have the concern of trying to enjoy it.

    And I''m feeling guilty again. I don''t want to be this much of a bitch and I know happiness is not some destination or goal you can force yourself or anyone else into, but still... if she can''t find happiness...what chance do I have? I''ve been able to claw my way into a new career path that seems promising, but aside from Vi, it''s all I have in my life to rely on. I''m in my 30''s and I have nothing to show for it.

    Why can''t I be the one in trouble for once and get some help through it? Why is no one ever willing to help me when I''m in the process of falling? Why do I always have to catch myself? Is falling and climbing back up alone over and over what I really deserve?

    Fuck...

 Nine

    Sunday

    8/3/25

    I woke up that morning in a fit, my head was aching, and my body was ravaged by the pain of restless sleep, yet I resolved to get myself out of bed and wake it out of its slumber. I quickly showered, ate breakfast, and saw myself out the door.

    I had shit to do.

    My first stop was a genetic counselor in midtown, I scheduled an appointment online last night to get my genome sequenced in anticipation of starting in the lab. I was easily able to find an electric Citibike and get on my way uptown. As I rode up eight avenue I took in the typical sights and sounds of the city, honking horns, chaotic pedestrians, and endless construction and refurbishment. The city has a way of making you feel at home in it despite its ever-changing nature. You always feel welcomed and comforted as a regular, despite the fact that it''s different every time you stop to actually perceive it. By the time I got to the office on 47th I was already mentally exhausted. I''ve always found it rather easy to separate my brain and body, depending on the tasks at hand. If I''m doing something physically repetitive or rehearsed, I can practically hold symposiums in my head. So I spent practically the entire trip analyzing my plan for weak points and coming up with contingencies as best I could.

    I found many. Yet, somehow that filled me with determination, which was a clear sign of madness.

    The office was typically sterile, with white walls, drop ceilings, and stock image art hung ornamentally. I checked in at the desk and sat down with my clipboard and began filling in the requested information. Only about two others sat in the waiting room, a couple by the looks of it. No doubt here to ensure any future offspring are free of genetic maladies. I quickly finished filling out the forms, returned them, and settled back down to allow my mind to return to its wandering.

    "Vivienne?"

    The call came about 10 minutes later from a young nurse, I stood up and allowed her to escort me to the exam room. When I arrived, I was pleasantly greeted by a tall tanned woman in her Middle Ages who spoke with a heavy Eastern European accent. She introduced herself as Doctor Iashinovsky.

    "So what brings you in today Vivienne?" She spoke calmly and directly, without the usual suspicious air that some specialists tended to convey.

    "I''d like to have my genome sequenced, please. Mostly out of curiosity, but I''d like to see if you could offer gene counseling as well."

    "Of course, are you worried about kids, or is this for personal reasons?"

    "Oh it''s just personal, I''m definitely not worried about children." I replied with a little chuckle at the end. Certainly, no fear of that.

    "Alright then, this will be quick, just gotta swab your cheek, we''ll have results for you in about a week.

    ----

    The rest of the appointment did not last much longer after that. She swabbed my cheek, placed the sample in a labeled tube, and sent me on my way to pay my $50 copay for the visit. I did decide, however, that I deserved to treat myself. I''d been relatively responsible financially for the last few weeks. I deserved a nice solo lunch to unwind. I opened Google Maps on my phone as I rode down the elevator to street level and quickly identified what seemed like a lovely rooftop Mediterranean spot a few blocks away.

    I muttered a quick "Fuck yeah" to myself as I made a mental note of the address and stuffed my phone into my purse.

    10 minutes and a few exchanged pleasantries with the hostess later, I was seated and pursuing the short menu while taking in the typically spectacular view from the 42nd floor patio. The space was eloquently decorated to resemble a chic grandmother''s garden in a rural village. The twelve or so metal tables were surrounded by numerous plants and species of ivy vying for sunlight on the large wooden trellises that lined the outer perimeter of the "garden". The variously irritating noises of the traffic below were quite muted from this height. The overall effect and ambiance were surprisingly convincing, and the vibes were immaculate. The waiter came back a few minutes later and took my order. Saganaki, Horiatiki Salad, grilled octopus, and a glass of white wine, of course. She came back quickly after with the wine and I sat back staring into the middle distance past the guardrails, pleased with myself for finally making what felt like meaningful progress in my life. I could get used to this kind of peace very easily.

    By the time I was halfway through the meal, I was already feeling wonderful inside. The food was amazing, the wine was delicious, and they even let me smoke cigarettes. I arrived about an hour after the lunch rush, so the place was rather empty. As I sat there thoroughly enjoying the moment, I heard the buzzing of my phone in my purse and removed it to see that Chloe was calling. I quickly tapped the answer icon on the screen and jovially greeted my friend.

    "Hey darling! Nice of you to call! What''s up?"

    "Viiiiii, I miss you! How are you? What are you doing? I''m in Brooklyn with Tommy and James right now, we were just talking about you, so I decided to call!" Her voice was her usual blend of enthusiasm and joy. It''s honestly difficult to not feel comforted and uplifted just hearing her speak. I''ve met few people as truly alive as Chloe, and all of their personalities are equally intoxicating.

    "Hahaha, I''m glad to hear it, I hope it was good things? I''m in midtown, treating myself to a little solo lunch on a rooftop. I miss you too! We should hang out soon!" I really do mss her immensely, I''d probably be significantly more satisfied with life if I could see my friends more often, but being adults in NYC usually means making plans weeks in advance and navigating increasingly complex schedules to get more than two people in the same room.

    "Oh my god yay! That sounds wonderful! Can I see?" She punctuated her question with a video call request.

    I accepted, of course, promptly turning the camera to point over the rooftop ledge towards the downtown skyline for a minute before turning it back towards me. "That''s fucking beautiful Vi, and you''re looking amazing too! What are you doing tonight?" She seemed to be wearing a modest black top complemented by her characteristic light smoky eye and maroon lip tint and large dangly silver earrings. The image on my screen jostled rhythmically as she panned her camera behind her to show Tommy and James. They seemed to be walking briskly somewhere.

    "Shit, I don''t know. I was planing on heading home and just unwinding before work tomorrow, but I could be convinced otherwise. Any suggestions?"

    "Ok good, meet me at my place at 7, we''re going to a club nearby tonight, and you cant say no ''cus I already bought you tickets." She finished her statement and immediately hung up before I could object.

    The exasperation I felt at that moment could probably be sensed by all the plants surrounding me. She really did know me too well, of course I would object and try to have a lazy night in, of course I would be unwilling to go clubbing without persuasion, of course I would try to pay for the tickets. But she knew just which knobs to tweak to get me to come out, and she probably knew I was feeling some type of way by the fact that I hadn''t spoken to her in a couple of weeks. She definitely knew a night out would make me feel better. I composed myself and planned out my logistics for the next few hours before returning to my meal.

    ----

    I met up with Chloe, James, and Tommy later that night at her family home in Western Bushwick. I had settled on wearing a cute black crop top that was cut low in the front, with black denim shorts, fishnets, and a leather harness to accentuate the bottoms. My usual combat boots went well with the outfit, so I kept them on. I spent about an hour and a half on hair and makeup, electing for a shimmery red eyeshadow that faded into my black eyeliner on the outer edges. I was feeling confident and sexy.

    Chloe met me at the door in a black A-line minidress and platform Mary Jane''s, complemented perfectly by her smoky eyes. She was as gorgeous as ever. She let out a little scream when she saw me and ran in for a massive hug.

    "Oh my god how are you babe? I''m so glad you came! This is gonna be so fun!!" Judging by the smell of tequila on her breath, I clearly had some catching up to do, so be it, I had to drop my inhibitions regardless.

    "Hahaha, thanks for getting me the tickets, how much were they? I''ll Venmo you." I replied earnestly while stepping through the foyer and towards the kitchen where the festivities likely were. I heard Chloe hurry her pace to cut me off and stop me with a devilish grin.

    "Don''t you dare, it''s my treat, now let''s get you caught up." She then grabbed my hand and let me into the kitchen, where the two boys were waiting for us at the bar, drinks in their elevated hands, a welcoming toast. Chloe let them at the bar first and grabbed an untouched glass of dark liquid, which she quickly passed to me before grabbing her own.

    "Here''s to a night worth remembering when we''re on our deathbeds!" Tommy exclaimed excitedly, raising his drink even higher towards the center of our small group.

    "If we can remember it!" James quipped, joining Tommy and Chloe with his glass in the center of the circle.

    "Knowing us, I doubt we will." I finished our new mantra, completing the circle with a rhythmic ding as our glasses clanged. We all took large sips in unison, and I soon discovered that the devilish concoction in our glasses was sure to put us in quick reveries. "What the fuck is this, Chloe? Battery acid?"

    "That''s actually a good name!" She replied. "But no, just a mix of Monster, rum, absinthe, and tequila, with a little guava juice for fun." I felt the absinthe burning my throat as she listed the ingredients. God, I love my friends, few people are truly as unhinged as I am, this is gonna be a fun night.

    "Y''all are fucking batshit, and I love it." I punctuated that sentence with a massive, wide hug over Chloe and Tommy''s shoulders, drink precariously teetering in my right hand. James quickly joined in, clearly feeling left out of the long-standing friendship.

    I''ve known Chloe and Tommy for about 15 years at this point, we met through a friend that I went to high school with at one of his numerous house parties and quickly hit it off. Since then, we''ve been together though thick and thin, sure there have been occasional spats, but we''ve supported each other despite all the bullshit that life can often cause, I honestly cannot think of any two more real friends that have ever been in my life. It''s honestly been a pleasure watching them grow as people over all these years as well. Chloe is now an accomplished tattoo artist with clients all over the world. She travels to various cites all year and her books are always full. I don''t blame her, she''s a fantastic artist, and I''m proud to wear a few of her pieces on my body as well. Tommy, on the other hand, is a welder by trade, he went to a vocational school about 10 years ago, and has since gotten a solid union job working on new construction. If he''s not at home relaxing with a video game in hand or hanging out with us, he''s usually suspended 500 feet in the air on a steel girder, fabricating some new skyscraper in this ever-growing city. I''ve never really found him attractive since I''ve known him as a friend for so long, and I''ve seen him at his worst, but goddamn, I understand why other women do. 6''1, with a tradesman''s body and those veiny arms that can make most women quiver, he really is a catch. Still not sure why he often chooses to be single. He regularly has women fawning over him, granted well over half of them are unstable and have daddy issues, but most men typically aren''t opposed to that. He''s the kind of guy who would rather reserve himself and his heart until he find someone who is worth the investment. I honestly admire that, even if I don''t understand his restraint half the time.

    We spent about two hours that night drinking and catching up, preparing our minds and bodies for the evening ahead of us. By the end of it, we were all properly sloshed and ready to head out on the town and crack open the oyster that would surely be our world. The taxi arrived around 10pm and drove us to the club somewhere deeper into Bushwick, the club was bustling and packed, so loud you could hear the thumping music through the cab doors on the approach, and practically smell the sweet scent of sweat from the celebrant on the inside. There were quite a few people packed on the outside smoking various substances, in various forms of going out attire, but the general vibe was dark, grunge, and mysterious from the outside. I could get behind that. My inhibitions were certainly significantly lowered by this point. We exited the cab as a group and approached the bouncer, it was late enough that the line was close to nonexistent. He scanned our ID''s and led us in quickly afterward and through coatcheck, where we deposited our bags and changed into our night''s attire. The men were slightly more scantily clad, each opting to lose their shirts, while Chloe removed her dress in favor of the somewhat more revealing corset-like top underneath and donned a matching miniskirt. I opted to keep my bottoms unchanged and a bralette in lieu of my crop top. With all the preparations completed, we emerged into the club floor as a group and took in the sights.

    About 500 people packed in the surprisingly large space, the music was blaring. A throbbing mix of house and dubstep, with occasional lyrics for ambiance. The ceilings were abundantly high, with aerialists hanging from various contraptions and exhibiting their skillful bodies. The lights were too low to really take in the decor, but the floor was absolutely packed with people dancing rhythmically to the heavy bass beat of the music in an exuberant display of young adult freedom. I typically try to avoid clubs due to the often seedy vibes that one can get from them. But this was clearly a queer space, and I was clearly welcome and accepted here. That helped tremendously. So I let the group pull me towards the dance floor, and we made ourselves at home amongst the heart pounding beat. Within minutes, I let myself be consumed by the music and dancing, I let myself be encapsulated by the love of my friends, and I let myself be driven into a fervor by the madness of the crowd. It''s so strange how one can find peace in such moments, but there, in the chaotic mess of dancing bodies, I found myself in a trance-like state of new age nirvana. I quickly became one with the mass of humans fervently oscillating to the music, and allowed my body and mind to be given away into the mob mentality. The peace that came with it was honestly sublime. I was no longer just one person, rather a simple cell amongst a larger organism, simply a part of a whole, and we moved as one in response to every key change, ever note, every beat for the bass drum. Nothing more than a natural reaction to an ever-changing stimulus.

    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    I joyfully let the dancing consume me down to my very core for what felt like hours. I let my body and mind drift off, back to that wonderful primitive state in our very being. I stayed in that state with my friends, my truest friends, and together we were simply a part of an even larger writhing mass of organisms amongst the world. The beauty is lost on nobody who knows these experiences, but it''s often not described enough. There''s a reason music and dance are one of the most fundamental human experiences. After an indescribable amount of time, I was approached by a tall and muscular man from behind who proceeded to wrap his arm around my waist and dance closely behind me. I allowed it of course, with not enough light or sense of preservation to look into his eyes, I spent the next thirty minutes or so sensually grinding up against him until I was firmly in his arms and his lips were sensually upon mine. The feeling was nothing short of bliss, with the satisfaction to match. His hands were strong around my waist, and his lower half was perfectly tuned to mine and the undulating beat of the music. Together, we formed a perfect complement to the DJ''s efforts. We danced in that fashion for what felt like hours until I heard the sweet, gravely tones of his voice in my ear requesting my number. He was apparently going out for a smoke and didn''t want to lose me. That felt nice. I grabbed the phone I felt earlier from his pocket and drunkenly dialed in my number, thumbing the call button. Once I felt the phone in my purse ring, I handed him his phone back and went back over to collect my friends.

    It wasn''t difficult to find the three relatively nearby, we try to stick together for safety reasons, of course. Chloe and James were sensually dancing together in perfect synchronicity, I had to take a minute to watch, awestruck by how naturally their bodies and personalities complemented each other, it was beautiful to watch. Tommy was nearby as well, dancing respectfully with a group of girls in their earlier twenties. They all gesticulated and spoke into each other''s ears, seemingly trying to have a conversation despite the powerful speakers. I was able to gather my friends with relative ease, tapping them each on the shoulder with a kind smile, and a two finger gesture to my lips indicating my desire. They nodded in turn, and we clumsily made our way off the dance floor, stopping by the bar to grab a quick drink. I ordered a double Margarita, and Chloe followed it up with a vodka cranberry, the boys got IPA''s. We spent the next few minutes heading outside slowly, giggling amongst ourselves and exchanging inside jokes about Tommy''s dancing skills.

    The outdoor area of the club was a spaciously furnished rooftop, complete with moody lighting and a small DJ booth where less known artists could get exposure entertaining a less interested audience. The area was lined with a long U-shaped wooden bench that formed the perimeter, comfortably seating at least 40 or 50 people. Everyone was in their own little groups, lighting up, drinking, and having private conversations, with the occasional call for a lighter or something. We were able to find a spot with ease and thumped down on the hard benches.

    "So Vi, seems like you found someone to distract you for the night." Chloe remarked in a sing-song voice shortly after she lit her cigarette. "You two seemed very invested in each other."

    "Oh god yeah, we had a bit of fun to say the least, did you get a good look at him, though? I couldn''t really see his face" Not that I was overly concerned, his body and tongue were convincing enough.

    "Oh he''s definitely your type, that''s actually him standing over there with a friend of his. These two were also a bit too busy to actually look around." Tommy finished his statement with a subtle head nod towards a couple of guys on the other side of the patio. They were both dressed similarly, in black jeans, basketball sneakers, and fitted buttoned shirts, one gray, one white. "I think the one on the right is your guy."

    He absolutely matched what I imagined in my head from his general outline, he had a well-defined body, strong jaw, and crippling green eyes. My type, for sure. Fortunately, they were too engrossed in their conversation to notice the four of us drunkenly appraising them.

    "We were actually being plenty observant Tom, just focused on different things, that''s all. Do you mind if I steal a cig, by the way? I prefer menthol." James cut in with a sly wink over to Chloe, clearly still in a flirty mood after their dancing. He took the offered cigarette, lit it, and proceeded to full on slav squat. Clearly unwilling to sully his outfit by sitting on the ground or the dubiously clean benches.

    "Well regardless of who was looking at what." Chloe chimed with an exaggerated ashing motion. "I''m proud of you Vi, not for bagging him, but just in general, for coming out and letting loose a little. I''ve been worried about you, and I don''t wanna see you in a funk, or burnt out."

    I gave her a quizzical stare before I answered. "What made you think I''m in a funk? I feel pretty fine." An obvious lie, but it felt necessary. I was trying to convince myself of the same thing.

    Chloe responded with yet another dramatic gesture, this time raising her eyebrow in a clear you know exactly why I think that way. "You''ve been ignoring your friends and family for a while babe, anyone who knows you even a little can tell you''re hyper fixated, or that you''re spiraling. Which is it? And don''t even try lying, I know your tells."

    "Not to mention, you also haven''t logged on to steam or discord in like a week." Tommy chipped in.

    Shit, they''re good, I should have known better than to assume I was behaving normally. I decided to respond with sass, hoping to add some levity to the situation. "Shit, okay, didn''t realize this was an intervention, I''ve just been busy."

    Chloe dropped her eyebrow, and her face became significantly more stern, a rare look for her, a warning. "Cut the crap, Vi, we''re worried about you, what''s going on?"

    Damn it, there''s no backing out of this now. I have to give them something, and it certainly can''t be the whole truth, that would just inspire even more scrutiny. While I am very reassured by the fact that I have such amazing friends, it can make it quite difficult to do shady shit that they don''t approve of. "I met a guy, and we''ve been spending a bit of time together lately. Nothing serious yet, but he''s ... distracting. I''m sorry." By this point, the cigarette in my hands was nearly down to the filter, I put it out and flicked it off the rooftop before fishing a joint I rolled earlier out of my bag and lighting it instead. The sweet smell of the drug quickly washed over my senses, and the pavlovian response over the years of smoking immediately calmed my racing thoughts before I even took the first inhale. I took a few more long pulls before passing the joint to James.

    "What guy would have you so invested? Don''t tell me you''re fucking Hozier." Chloe retorted with a quick chuckle, followed by Tommy and James. Even the group of girls next to us giggled, clearly having been invested in our conversation.

    Before I could formulate a response, the tension was fortunately broken by a ding from my phone. I pulled it out of my purse to see a message from an unlabeled number.

    Where''d you run off too?

    1:34 PM

    I let the relief visibly wash over me, realizing immediately that the man I was hooking up with might be my knight in shining armor at this moment. I thumbed a quick response before hitting the send button and putting my phone down.

    I see you, gimme a sec

    1:35PM

    Kk

    1:35PM

    "That''s Mr. Handsy I assume?" Tommy asked with a sly smile, passing the jay back to me.

    "Yup! I replied enthusiastically. "Seems like someone is ready for round two. On that note, I know that this is unlike me, but I do like him, that''s why I''ve been spending so much time with him. I''m trying to respect the men I have relationships with a bit more. I''ve been called a bitch so many times that it got me thinking I should consider giving the occasional man a shot every once in a while." I punctuated my sentence by handing Chloe the joint and returning my phone to my purse.

    Chloe seemed moderately satisfied by that answer, and the look on her face suggested that she''d be willing to let the matter drop for now. "Fair enough, I''m glad you think you found one worth entertaining. Go scamper off. You''re not off the hook yet, though." She put out her cigarette and focused on the other burning object in her hand. "Shall we have another drink before going back in gentlemen?"

    As they nodded their assent, I got up and gave the three of them quick pecks on the cheek before heading over to what''s-his-name. "Thank youuu, love you guys! I''ll see y''all soon!" Thank god that ended reasonably. Hopefully, I''ll be able to think of something to say before the next round of questioning. I downed the second half of my drink and headed over to the trash can to dispose of the cup. "Mr. Handsy" noticed me as I approached, and the recognition quickly washed over his clearly intoxicated face. He waited a minute for me to get close enough before speaking. "Hey sexyy, thought I lost yah there."

    I responded to his question with a smile and a wink, before directing another kind smile to his friend as well. "Ready to go back inside, big guy?" He muttered something vaguely affirming, and I grabbed his hand, gave his friend a flirty wave, and led him back downstairs. He enthusiastically followed me down the stairs and into the club proper, not even questioning me when I proceeded to lead him past the dance floor and straight to the restrooms. They were all gender-neutral here, and he was apparently too enthused by the girl taking charge to think twice about where he was going. Not that he would object, of course. There was fortunately no line, so I was easily able to secure a stall, pull him in, and push him against the wall with my tongue down his throat. It''s immensely satisfying to know that you have a man by his balls, and ever so easy to turn them into putty if you care to. I, personally, love taking full advantage of the body that I worked so hard to achieve, and have every intention of abusing the few privileges that come with it. We made out vigorously and I took my time undoing the buttons of his top before peeling it off him and caressing his generous frame. He stopped kissing my lips and started making his way to my neck, before I stopped him with a subtle finger and bit down on his neck sensually instead. The moan that escaped him damn near buckled my knees and only served to remove all doubts from my mind. I worked on his neck for a while, letting my hands slide all over his body, they soon wandered to his pants and I allowed them to undo the belt and top button of his jeans, giving me just enough room to slide in and grip his shaft. He was solid as a fucking rock, and that only served to satisfy me further. I could feel the tension in him, he was ravenous, and I knew he would consume me the second I let him. So that''s exactly what I did, removing my mouth from his neck, looking deep into those jade eyes, and biting my lip for emphasis. He took the cue and promptly undid his zipper before literally picking me up and spinning me to put my back against the wall. The next seconds were nothing but a blur, but before I knew it he was hilt deep inside me and my brain simply stopped forming coherent thoughts.

    "Gaddamn you are hot as shit." He exclaimed breathlessly into my neck as he slid in and out of me tirelessly while holding me up against the wall, my legs wrapped solidly around his waist, and the muscles tightened with his rhythm to push him ever deeper inside me with every stroke. It was finally time to let myself loose and allow my body to relent to his will, and I fully intended to submit myself. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled my lips back to his, it felt awkward allowing myself to moan in such a public place, but by this point I really could not care less who heard or what they would think. I let my enraptured moans escape and felt his confirming response as he thrust into me even harder than before, the feeling was nothing short of complete and utter bliss, and I shuddered with the waves of pleasure that overcame my body and mind. Before long, I was repositioned over the toilet with my face towards the back wall of the stall, he allowed one of my arms free for stability, but held the other tightly against my lower back for his own leverage. He was soon back inside me with a renewed vigor, and the sound of my ass clapping against his thighs resonated throughout the spacious restroom. I frankly didn''t give a shit, I didn''t care how loud and obnoxious we were probably being, I didn''t care about the grungy bathroom, I didn''t care about my worries or insecurities, and I sure as shit didn''t care about who he was, I just wanted him deeper and harder. "Fuck you''re good!" I moaned exasperated between thrusts and arched my back, searching for better angles.

    It worked, before long I was once again overcome by ever building waves of pleasure that threatened to shatter my very being. I gave into the feelings and allowed by body and mind to be absolutely overcome by them, I was nothing but an object by this point and I loved it more with every fucking second. His pace became increasingly more fervent up to the point that I could feel the vein of his cock throbbing rhythmically deep inside me and that sent me over the goddamn edge. I lost myself to the orgasm just as I felt his load filling me up, and it fucking broke me, I screamed and buckled under the load of the overwhelming stimulus, but he did not allow me to fall. Instead, his arm wrapped around my chest and held it aloft, despite the protests from my legs. He punctuated his final thrusts with a deep shuddering moan and gently lifted my back against his chest, allowing me to ride out the overwhelming euphoria still very much coursing though my body.

    We stayed like that for what felt like days, catching our breaths and wrestling control back over our bodies and minds, his cock remained deeply inside me, and I squeezed against it, enjoying the quiver of response on his end. "Don''t do that if you don''t want a second round" he chuckled into my ear from behind.

    I got a grip on myself and responded slowly. "I don''t think either of us are ready for that tonight. Plus, I have a feeling our neighbors would object." By this point, the post nut clarity fully rolled into my mind, and I was made distinctly aware of the smell and general grime of the restroom we were in. It''s a nice club, but it''s still a fucking club bathroom, god knows what yet-to-be-discovered diseases are thriving in this environment. "Do you mind giving me some privacy to pee and compose myself? I don''t think we''re at that level yet."

    "Yeah no, I get that, I should probably check on my friend anyway, he''s done a lot of coke tonight. Hit me up if you ever wanna go again. Name''s Nick by the way. You?"

    "Thank you, It''s Vi, we''ll talk."

    With that, he saw quickly reassembled his clothing and saw himself out of the bathroom, leaving me to my devices. I sat down, peed, and cleaned myself up. I refused to feel shame about tonight, and I was sure as shit gonna enjoy myself while I was still young. I got up and fixed my outfit and makeup in the mirror before going back out into the club and finding my friends. It took a while, god knows how long we spent in there, but eventually, I found the three of them towards the back of the venue, Chloe was dancing on top of a set of speakers with another girl, presumably a new friend she made, while the boys were together on the floor hyping them up. Chloe noticed me easily due to the height advantage and helped me up onto the speaker with her. She leaned over and yelled into my ear, so I could hear her over the thumbing bass of the sound system.

    "Looks like someone had fun tonight!"

    "Yeah, you could say that."

    "''Good, I''m happy for you, lets dance, were leaving soon."

    I was disappointed, but I understood, it was probably close to 3 am by this point and I could feel the exhaustion washing over me, but I conceded and danced with her, once again letting my body fall into that familiar reverie. The music was slightly calmer by this point, not the live mixed EDM of the early night, but rather a mashup of familiar songs from the mid twenty-tens. We sang and danced to the beat, content to enjoy our youth with the backdrop of nostalgia.

    ----

    We opted to take a cab together back to Chloe''s home, too tired and drunk for the logistical planning involved in individual trips. The car ride was short and filled with exuberant energy as we each recounted the nights events and filled each other in on missed details, I let the energy seep out of me with my friends and had my head on Tommy''s shoulder in the back seat by the end of it. We were all visibly exhausted and ready for some much-needed rest. Chloe assured us that we could all spend the night if we liked, and we all took the opportunity, certainly unwilling to spend the next hour on unnecessary travel. We exchanged stories again over a final bottle of wine and I told them of my private escapade while we got ready for bed. I opted for the pullout in the living room with Tommy, and Chloe and James elected for their bed in the next room. I soon found myself platonically cuddling with my best friend of over 20 years as we both quickly drifted off to sleep.

 Ten

    Tuesday

    8/5/25

    "This is the last stop on this train...everyone, please leave the train...thank you for riding with MTA New York City Transit."

    I hurriedly jostled my way out of the train car and down the stairs from the platform to ground level, fighting with hundreds of other travelers as we all concentrated into the two stairwells. You get used to it after some time, decades of public transit teach you how to walk fast, stay alert, and fight for position. It was a dark and gloomy evening and the air was heavy from the numerous rain showers that had been interspersed throughout the day, Harley loves days like this, a perfect excuse to stay in and read a book with the sounds of thunder and rain prattling on the window panes providing a calming ambiance. I find them simply frustrating, I''m usually out, so I have to deal with being soggy, carrying an umbrella, and risking trench foot in a surprisingly deep puddle.

    Nevertheless, I was on my way to Altons, and I was fucking hyped about it. I had a feeling that today would be one of those days that one looks back on ten years down the line, only to realize that it played a pivotal role in making them who they became. I had my genetic sequence prepared, and I was ready to begin my work. The trek to his house deep in Astoria was as miserable as I expected, I refuse to take buses unless it''s an emergency, so I was left with hoofing it as my only option, just as I did the week prior. Only now, the rain was slowly building into a downpour. I was soaked, but the time I made it to Alton''s cozy home. He met me at the door just as he had before and welcomed me in with a warm smile and a few exchanged pleasantries, the house smelled strongly of lilac this time, he clearly had a rotating cast of incense flavors.

    "So, as I was saying over the phone, I''m a little busy today so I won''t be able to stay with you and oversee everything, But I''ll show you the proverbial ropes and pop in now and then to check up. I should be finished with my tasks by around nine or so, I can be more attentive then. Did you eat dinner? We can order something then if not. You can go change in the guest room if you like, I keep sweats and pajamas there in case of emergency, I''ll toss your clothes in the wash. It''s up the stairs, first door on the left." He spoke hastily and decisively, evidently trying to get it all out before rushing to attend to something. His hair was a bit frazzled, but otherwise he looked as casually put together as ever.

    "Oh okay, thank you. Is everything fine?" I was still a bit taken aback by his generosity and openness, one felt a bit awkward having so much liberty in the home of someone who was basically a stranger.

    "Yes, yes, don''t mind me love, I''m a bit frantic with work at the moment, the market is a bit fucked. Give me a little, and I''ll be back to give you the run-down." He finished his statement with a cursory glance at his smartwatch, and flipped through a few pages on it.

    "No worries, I totally get it, I''ll get changed and wait for you downstairs. Thanks again!"

    "It''s a pleasure, feel free to grab a beverage from the fridge if you like as well."

    With that, he turned and padded over towards the rear of the first floor of his house, probably where his office was.

    The "guest room" was beautifully appointed, with a centralized king-sized bed adorned by a suede headboard, and matching mahogany furnishings. The walls were decorated with a few small prints of flowers and countrysides, and the floor boasted a large taupe colored high-pile rug with abstract contrasting patterns. It even had a fucking en-suite. Alton was either new money, or this house was lovingly cared for and passed down to him. I parsed through the clothing in the six-drawer dresser before selecting a pair of white sweats and a matching tank-top from the "women''s" side on the right, and getting changed into the fresh clothing. I spotted a hamper on my way out and deposited the wet jeans and oversized heather top I had been wearing. This was going to be an interesting night to say the least.

    ----

    Alton met me in the basement lab about 30 minutes later, looking significantly calmer and more like the man I barely knew. He had changed into some black lounge pants and an olive green "jumper" as he would undoubtably call it. Even his hair was slickly tamed back. "I''m sorry about my behavior earlier love, the market is all kinds of messed up right now, and I had to liquefy some of my assets before they went too far into the red. I''m sure you know the feeling" He fumbled with his hair briefly before approaching me at the desk I was occupying. "So I guess the first round of business is to analyze your genome, right? Let''s instantiate a version of Clara for you and plug in your data, It will serve as a good foundation for you to learn some of the systems here as well."

    I stole a brief glance at the slightly intimidating server rack next to us before awkwardly replying. "Oh okay yeah for sure, let me just grab the data, I didn''t realize Clara was modular like that." I took a minute to fish the thumb drive out of my purse and handed it over to Alton.

    "Yes, she was trained on quite a few genomes of varying species before we... I plugged in my own. It''s a relatively simple process, but the initial analysis takes a few minutes, three billion base pairs and all." He grabbed the drive out of my hand and took a minute to find a suitable USB port in the rack to plug it into, and pulled up a coding environment. "I''m assuming you have experience with Python?"

    "Oh yeah, of course, I use the same IDE too, so that makes it easier." An IDE is just a simple workspace for developers to organize, test, and compile code, basically giving us a user interface to make life easier. I studied his actions as he typed in a few commands and moved data sets around between folders.

    "Okay, cool, that was simply some initial setup, shouldn''t have to repeat that too often. This is the interface for Clara, it''s as intuitive as we could make it, just type in these commands and she''ll get started on the analysis." He typed a few lines into the terminal and a progress bar materialized, then he copied them on to a notepad file and saved them to the documents folder labeled "Vi Init". "Okay, while that runs, let''s do a more in-depth tour of the space and procedures."

    Alton proceeded to give me an exhaustive overview of the processes involved and the minutiae of genetic engineering, as well as explaining the equipment I would be using at the beginning of my trials and how to operate it. I took carefully detailed notes in my book and tried to retain as much as humanly possible. He spoke in a way that tried to optimize for bandwidth, using as specific language as possible to convey the maximum amount of information in each sentence. It was efficient, but exhausting to keep up with unless you were also a part of the same niche community he was. I understood a good chunk of it initially, but I had a feeling my notes would prove to be an invaluable study guide going forward. The lecture continued for a solid half hour before the computer beeped on the other side of the room, clearly indicating its completion of the assigned task. "Oh okay, we''ll finish up talking about organoids another time then, let us see what you''ve got in you."

    We made our way back to the computer screen and Alton began to study the results. The content displayed had evolved from a basic writing tool and terminal, a full on UI had popped up, with the words "Analysis Complete" written above and a long string of phenotypes (physical expressions of genes) listed, along with their consequences and significances. Most of it was simple stuff it had inferred: Brown hair, brown eyes, AB+ blood type, male, but other inferences were seemingly more complex. Genetic predispositions to certain diseases and their relevant likelihoods and dependent factors. Apparently, drinking heavily a few times a week would make me 37% more likely to develop fatty liver disease in 10�C20 years than the control group, that was good to know. Alton scrolled through the terminal for a second and flipped between a few pages.

    "Great, so we have no errors of any sort, let''s start with the fun! I''ll export the preliminary results for you and push them to your flash drive. This dialogue box here is where you can communicate with Clara and submit instructions, it''s a natural language system just like the others you may be aware of, but specificity is always helpful." He got out of the seat and motioned for me to sit in his place. "You said you wanted to start with your eye color, right, love?"

    I took some time to rein in my emotions before sitting down and thinking through exactly what I would input. "Yes, a single gene change shouldn''t be too difficult, right?". I did not wait for his response, and instead typed my request into the keyboard.

    ''Hello Clara, I would like my eye color to be green, please model the requested change and output the new gene sequence. Check for downstream errors as well please.''

    The AI rapidly responded and began spitting out words at an unnatural pace. The whole output took less than a minute.

    Hello, I''ve analyzed your request to change your eye color from brown to green. Eye color is largely influenced by several genes, primarily OCA2 and HERC2 on chromosome 15. The switch from brown to green typically involves reduced melanin production in the iris.

    **Proposed Genetic Change:**

    To change eye color from brown to green, we will need to introduce a polymorphism in the HERC2 gene, specifically at the rs12913832 locus. This SNP is associated with decreased expression of the OCA2 gene, leading to reduced melanin and green pigmentation.

    Here is the edited sequence around the rs12913832 site:

    Before (brown eyes):

    ...GAGTCAACCGTGAATCGGGGGAA...

    After (Green eyes):

    ...GAGTCAACCGTGAATCGGAGAAG...

    **Downstream Effects**

    I''ve run a check for potential off-target effects, and here are the results:

    1. Eye Health: No negative downstream health impacts identified. This change specifically targets eye pigmentation without altering vision or other eye functions.

    2. Skin and Hair Color: No significant changes in melanin production elsewhere in the body. Your hair color should remain unaffected.

    3. Immunity: There are no predicted interactions with immune system genes.

    4. Off-target mutations: None detected.

    The modification is safe to proceed based on current genomic data.

    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Reading the output sent my traitorous heart into overdrive, and I was driven to the brink of a panic attack. This was real, this was possible, this was fucking happening. I did not know if I was nervous, scared, or excited, all I knew was that my body was positively buzzing with possibility. I felt a consoling touch on my shoulder, Alton could probably tell I was going through something, I appreciated the comfort, even if it did little to settle my nerves. He took an audibly deep breath and spoke softly from behind me. "Shall we begin?"

    I was finally able to settle myself enough to form a curt response, a slight smile escaping my lips.

    "Yes."

    ----

    We spent the next hour or three preparing the test setup, I wasn''t going to just take a machine''s word and inject myself without verification, of course. We swabbed some of my inner cheek cells and began culturing them in a Petri dish with a specific medium for rapid growth and placed them in an incubator, keeping some aside for use now. This way we could have a virtually unlimited supply when needed. With the cells that we kept behind we extracted the DNA from the Nucleus and isolated chromosome 15, we then identified the specific locus we would be working with and created a guide RNA sequence that would attach to the newly isolated nucleotides, this would serve as a guide for the enzyme CAS9 to find the sequence during the test, precisely cutting it and only it out of the chromosome. Finally, we methodically created the "repair template sequence" that would replace the cut sequence. The way the whole process works now is generally pretty simple. All we did afterward was take the newly engineered CAS9 enzyme and inject it into a cell we had not tampered with yet on a separate Petri dish, then we injected the repair template sequence into the same cell and gave the mechanisms time to work. Once the enzyme made the cut, the cell''s natural repair procedure would kick in and replace the damaged gene with the one we provided, if it all worked well, this could be spread throughout the body using a specially engineered virus. For the singular cell, the entire process would take 1�C3 days, so we labeled the prepared dish and placed it into an incubator along with the others that we prepared earlier.

    By this point, it was around 9 pm, and we were both hungry and tired from our work, Alton fortunately did not have to dip in and out as he originally quoted, so I benefitted from the one-on-one tutoring session. We settled on ordering in some food from a ramen spot he assured me would "make me too jaded to eat any other ramen" and I happily caved to the suggestion, interest fully piqued. With the day''s activities mostly concluded, he poured me a generous glass of wine, and we sat on the comfortable living room couch. I allowed him a little time to unwind in quiet comfort, he clearly had a stressful day, judging by his behavior earlier.

    "So what''s your story love" I emphasized the last word in a mocking jab. "How does one develop such a diverse skillset?"

    He chuckled lightly at the insult and turned his attention to me, having been staring at his phone for the past few minutes. "I''m afraid it''s not too dissimilar to what you''d expect, I had a typical childhood in Bristol and went to Cambridge for software engineering at my father''s behest, as you know. I moved to the states after his death and bounced around different startups over the years, eventually landing on the one that produced the early version of Clara. It was originally intended as a research tool for medicinal applications, developing novel drugs and the like, I took a version of it home with me when I left and modified it into what it is now. Took me about a year or so, but the overall product is powerful. I learned the biology and chemistry stuff in my spare time, as you have been. I was just too fascinated by the whole process not to learn."

    "And you took your earnings and bought this lovely home? You don''t exactly seem of the age to settle down quite so hard." He wasn''t young by any means, but the man in front of me couldn''t be more than 40 at most, his face was unserious, and lacked the wrinkles and weathered appearance of most men above that age.

    "I mean, I can always sell it if I decide to pick up and leave town, the equity alone would let me live comfortably for quite some time, but regardless, I''m older than I look. I haven''t just been keeping Clara locked in my basement for no good reason after all. Care to take a guess?" He gave me a devilish smile and leaned in, affording me the opportunity to really scrutinize his appearance.

    He couldn''t be over 45, could he? "42?" I guessed, the number an obvious nod to The Hitchhiker''s Guide, and a compliment as to how good he looked for his presumed age.

    His grin deepened into a full on smile and his eyes darkened. "Not too far, I''m actually 53 chronologically, but biologically I''m closer to 40." I haven''t done too much per se, at least nowhere near as much as you intend to do, you honestly might have the most realistically far-fetched aspirations I''ve heard so far. I usually speak with either transhumanists aspiring for full on cybernetic enhancement, or laymen who accuse me of playing god.

    I felt my gaze widen at the revelation, and I''m sure my face betrayed the same thing to him. That was fucking impressive, and only served to reinforce my determination, the wine helped as well, of course, it removed most of the reservations I had about my future, should I choose to pursue these goals to completion. "Very impressive, may I ask what you''ve done?, I don''t mean to pry of course, share of your own volition."

    He took this moment to deepen the suspense, reaching to his coffee table to pull a cigarette out of his pack before lighting it, and offering me one in return. I happily obliged, lighting my own to set the mood. "Like I said, nothing major, it started off with a personalized skin care routine based off my genetics, then we tacked on some custom supplements to reinforce the effect later, most recently I started dabbling with enhancing GDF11 in certain areas of my body using light-activated-CRISPR, a little goes a surprisingly long way. The light activation part of the process really helps fine tune the results too, over expression of the gene can result in abnormal tissue growth, I''m sure you''ve researched it as well."

    He was right about that assumption for sure, but it was only a cursory part of my readings, while useful eventually, my plans were much more drastic and short term, I''d figure the rest out later. I took a long drag of my cig and studied him. He was the first person I''d ever spoken to that had actually modified their own genome, and I was on the hunt for side effects, the only thing I could really put my finger on was the slight uncanny valley effect of his skin, it was too smooth, to polished for even a man in their 40s, as he appeared to be. The facial structure hinted at it, but the skin made it seem like he had some sort of work done, he looked fantastic on the surface level of course, only a more in-depth look at him would reveal the disparity. "Okay then, so you clearly know what you are doing, how would you rate my chances?" The question was loaded, and we both shifted ever so slightly as the tension in the room rose around us. I leaned back in my overstuffed seat as he parsed the question deeply and settled on an answer.

    "If you do things properly and don''t get too ambitious, I believe it''s going to work, at least in the short term. But you will need to keep a close eye on your physical condition and tweak expression to ensure that your side effects are manageable. The edits you want to make in the long term as not so simple, there will be unintended consequences, it''s up to you to regulate them. Can you handle that?" He looked at me deeply as he spoke, and his voice adopted a more serious tone than I''d ever heard him speak in.

    The overall effect was enough to leave me shrinking in my seat ever so slightly, but I rallied and met his gaze. "Yes, I came into this knowing it wouldn''t be easy, smooth, or pleasant, I am determined and ready to ensure my success. I would, of course, appreciate supervision though, especially in the beginning to set me on the right track, don''t go easy on me. We both know how serious the ramifications could be."

    The smile that escaped his lips during my last statement was nothing short of vampiric, and for some reason, it boiled my blood in the best way possible. Maybe it was the controlling nature of it, or the fact that it was a man genuinely being interested in what I had to offer him aside from sex was unknown to me. All I knew was that it was heavy, and laced with presumption. He reined in his behavior with a puff of his cigarette and responded in a calm and even tone. "Of course love, I am not in the business of risking harm to my investments, I''m here to empower you to achieve your dreams, and reap the rewards. If that means spending a few hundred hours with you in the lab, that''s a small price to pay. I''m beginning to enjoy your company, nevertheless, you have a drive to you that I admire."

    Fair enough, I honestly couldn''t argue with his intentions, or pretend that he was here simply for my greater good, our relationship was transactional and that was more than fine with me. The last statement, however, only served to add fuel to the flame that was currently burning in me, what could he possibly mean by that? There was no chance that he was actually beginning to care about me as a person, right? I took a long swig of my wine and followed it up with another puff of my cigarette, enjoying the time it allotted me to formulate a coherent response. "I signed up for this knowing full well what I was getting myself into Alton, the consequences are in no way lost on me, but if we will be working so closely together we might as well get to know each other properly, right? What drives you?" I spoke as casually as I could muster, he''d gotten under my skin a bit, and there was no way I would allow that to reflect on my behavior.

    He took his time analyzing me, clearly searching for signs of weakness in my body language, I relaxed in my position, trying to convey the strength and determination I felt on the inside, the effect was evidently not lost on him, he seemed satisfied and continued his line of questioning. "So what are you going to do when you finally get what you want Vi? Walk away? Or will you keep striving towards some other ideal?"

    "Future Vi will not have the same ideals as I do, just as past Vi didn''t have the same as current Vi. These will always be ever shifting goal posts. I''m certainly going to stop at some point, but the ideal is just that, a goal that will never be truly achieved. I''ve come to terms with that, but that doesn''t mean I can''t work towards it. I intend to do as much as I can within reason to become the person I was destined to be."

    He once again seemed satisfied by my answer and took a final drag of his cig before putting it out and turning back to me with what I now knew to be his characteristic stare. "Well said, now onto lighter topics if you don''t mind, I''d like you to spend the night in the guest-room after dinner if possible. It''s getting late, and I know you have a long commute back to Brooklyn, I''d rather not be responsible for any mishaps that may befall you on your way home.. Is that okay with you?"

    The look on his face was one of genuine concern, not for a prized commodity, but simply for my well-being, I appreciated the gesture more than he could imagine. Life at home wasn''t exactly easy at the moment, so I would be more than happy to exchange my bed for more peace and quiet, not to mention the fact that I''d been dreading the late commute home as well. I opened my mouth to accept his offer and was promptly cut off by his doorbell ringing, signaling our dinner''s arrival. We both put our cigarettes out, and he got up to retrieve the food.

    He came back in with the food a minute later and led me to the dining table. It wasn''t a room per se, but rather a corner of the large open-concept living room right off the kitchen, the large wooden table seated six and the well cushioned chairs allowed for a relaxed setting. I sat on one of the short sides, and he seated himself opposite me and began quietly unpacking the dinner, placing multiple containers before me, and before walking over to the kitchen and grabbing the both of us some nicer chopsticks and spoons. "I hate the little takeaway utensils, use these." He handed me the implements, reseated himself, and began combining his wet and dry ingredients in the spacious bowl.

    I followed suit, taking his lead and carefully dumping my noodles into the broth bowl, I finished by adding in the meat and vegetables, mixing the ingredients together, I gave the noodles a minute to fluff up and spread apart in the broth. My first bite was a bit hesitant, not wanting to take any chances and burn my tongue on the hot food, I was quickly rewarded by a wonderful concoction of flavors and textures. The rich, spicy broth warmed my body and soul, and I let out a barely audible sigh of satisfaction as I began devouring my meal. Every bite and mouthful was amazingly complex, and the richness of it all left me wanting more and more, no matter how much I ate. I''ve had plenty of ramen in my life, none compared to what sat before me at this moment.

    "I told you, this restaurant puts all others in the city to shame." His boast was confident and well deserved. He smiled warmly as he watched me enjoying the deeply flavorful meal.

    "Fair enough Alton, I am more than convinced." I spoke softly in between mouthfuls, trying my best to remain classy despite myself.

    The rest of the meal proceeded quietly and without fanfare. We both ate our fills and I allowed him to remove the waste containers from the table while I sipped on my glass of wine in deep satisfaction. He returned with a fresh bottle and refilled both our glasses before reseating himself across from me with a grin.

    "Unfortunately, it is growing rather late, and it has been a long day on my side, so I will not be able to keep you company for much longer tonight. But I do want to speak to you a bit more before bed, I find your dedication fascinating. Why do you want this so much, why go to such extreme lengths? You''re an attractive young woman, and you seem to have your life figured out. Why risk it all?" His face showed genuine empathy and a desire to learn.

    I allowed the question to hang in the air while I gathered my thoughts to formulate a response, and sipped from my glass. "I honestly don''t know anymore. I just never truly felt complete in my transition, no matter how far I''ve come, that brain-body disconnect remains. Don''t get me wrong, I''m proud of myself, and happy to have been as lucky as I have been thus far. But I feel like it''s just not enough, it never feels like enough, I desperately want nothing more than to be normal, yet my reflection serves as a constant reminder that I''m not, I''m accepted, but I''m still an other."

    "You''re not an other Vi, and I understand that it''s difficult for you to see that, but at some point you are going to have to come to terms with who you are and learn to accept that to some degree. You can certainly make it easier, that''s why you''re here of course, but what you feel inside cannot be remedied purely with external gratification. You need to do the internal work as well." His body language conveyed a sense of internal comfort, as if he was trying to lead by example.

    I sighed heavily and took another long sip of wine, draining the glass and meeting his deep, penetrating gaze. "I get that, but I feel like I avoid the internal work as a safety mechanism, I hurt myself emotionally so that nobody could possibly hurt me as much. I critique and insult my own appearance so that I never allow myself to falter in that regard, if I get too comfortable I''m afraid that I will leave myself too vulnerable."

    He followed my example and drained his as well, he reached across the table to gently take my hands in his. "It''s okay to be vulnerable, and it''s okay to leave yourself open to others. So what if they hurt you? That''s what humans do, do you think cis women aren''t insulted and harassed on the daily? Do you think they don''t scrutinize themselves because of it? There''s an epidemic of insecure young women because of social media and societal pressures, you''re not alone in this Vi. In fact, your struggle is more common than you may think. Sure, some of your concerns aren''t as common in the general world, but the overarching dysmorphia is the same. You''re not alone."

    His words were powerfully poignant and damn near brought me to tears, he was right, of course. I have no need to be so hard on myself, yet I still am. I am not as different from those I aspire to be, yet I label myself an other to lessen my standing. "Thank you, I don''t think you know how much I appreciate your words and kindness."

    He returned my gratitude with a warm smile and let the conversation drop. "Of course love, now unfortunately I should get ready for bed, the wine is making me too loose I''m afraid. Are you going to spend the night?"

    "Yes, of course, I appreciate your generosity." I got up from my chair and helped him clean up our empty bottles and glasses of wine.

    "I''m glad to hear it, please make yourself comfortable, the guest room is available to you if you ever need it. Sleep well V." With that, he finished tidying up the kitchen, gave me a little wink, and headed upstairs.

    I took a few minutes downstairs to settle myself down and pulled out my phone to shoot Harley a quick message before heading to be myself.

    Sleeping at a friend''s house tonight, I''ll be home tomorrow after work. Love you.

    12:52 AM

 Eleven

    Saturday

    8/9/25

    I woke up as per usual, in Harley''s arms, in our bed, in our abundantly decorated bedroom. We moved into this apartment two years ago and have been filling the walls and floors with stuff ever since. Paintings, prints, pictures, and Polaroids filled the walls in an orderly array of sizes and shapes, and the soft red light cast on them by the LED strips that bordered the ceiling made the whole room feel like a contemporary art exhibit, with the bed and its inhabitants as the centerpiece. I quite liked the vibe, it set the mood well and had the effect of quickly lulling you to sleep.

    Harley was a deep, statuesque sleeper, so it was relatively easy to get out of bed without bothering her. I stretched and padded out of the bedroom and into the living room, letting the warm midday sun shining through the windows pull me towards wakefulness before going into the kitchen and making myself some coffee. I pulled my phone out and went through my notifications whilst I waited, ignoring most of them and eagerly clicking on the messages from Alton.

    Good morning love, I took the liberty of analyzing the DNA of the cells we worked on last week. The experiment worked, and the new genome is accurate to the template. We''re live.

    11:22 AM

    I''m free tonight if you want to stop by and proceed with the next step, just let me know if you''re coming.

    11:25 AM

    Please keep in mind my side of the deal, I have a project I''m working on as well, I''d like your help with it, we''ll discuss in person.

    11:26AM

    Holy fucking shit, it actually worked! I mean, of course it worked. We didn''t do anything new, and we followed procedures that had been established years ahead of time, it was just a proof of concept experiment, but the success was still invigorating. I pondered my plans for the night and couldn''t think of anything aside from my lunch with my mother at 3, so I thumbed a quick reply and walked over to the machine to retrieve my steaming cup of coffee.

    Fantastic! I''ll be there around 7, is that cool?

    1:13PM

    I did not forget about my side, I''ll help however I can.

    1:13PM

    The coffee kickstarted my soul as I sat and pondered a while about what I was doing, and what I needed to do. I''d been neglecting my social responsibilities, namely those to my parents, and to Harley. At least I hung out with the gang a few days ago. Days? Shit, it''s Saturday, that was last week. I''m really losing the plot here, but at least I''m going to see my mom tonight, that will put a temporary reprieve on the complaints from her end. My mother and I have a good relationship now, it has been improving the last couple of years, especially since the incident. She basically raised me alone for most of my childhood and worked hard to be a good inspiration, building me up to be strong, independent, and not take shit from anybody. She was the example on those fronts, she worked hard to get herself through college with a young child and little money, she had men in her life, but was quick to discard them if they ever did her wrong, and she fought to carve a life out for us despite the difficulties and bullshit that others gave her.

    It was a great upbringing, but my transition had the effect of driving a massive wedge in between us for a while. She was completely blindsided by the whole thing, I was a good actress, and I hid my feelings and questionable tendencies well. It took a long time for her to finally come around to respecting the person I was becoming, and I was patient. The incident did help in that regard though, we both realized how important the other was in our lives, and we both made a sincere effort to rebuild the relationship we had, and make it stronger than ever. Honestly, nowadays, it seemed like she had always wanted a girl. I felt like shit for neglecting her as of late, and it was time I returned and made things right, hence today''s lunch.

    Harley, on the other hand, was a different story, I''d been neglecting her too, but it takes more of a sustained effort to restore things with a partner than it does with a parent. At least, parents are supposed to love you unconditionally. I needed to make more time to be with her, and show her that she was loved and cherished. I needed to stop going on bullshit benders and fucking the first guy who gives me attention. I had to start being a partner to her again. Easier said than done when you''re going through as much shit as I was.

    My father is basically out of the picture nowadays, we see each other about once a year or so, but ever since I transitioned its clear he doesn''t see me as the same person he "helped" raise. We hung out every weekend while I grew up. He taught me to love math, science, and engineering, and he taught me to be stoic in my life and my relationships. As time went on, however, I saw him less and less, and transitioning put the final nail in the proverbial coffin. He doesn''t look me in the eyes anymore. He''s respectful enough, but the distance is clear. It doesn''t help that he has a new family, and a nine-year-old son to look after now, maybe that kid will become the man he wanted to raise.

    I sat there at the kitchen bar pondering, going through my phone and drinking my coffee for quite a while until I heard a faint rustling from the bedroom. I looked over to the clock on the stove and realized how much time had passed. It''s 2:13PM, shit, I was running late for lunch. I made my way back into the bedroom to change for the event. I changed into some nicer black pants and a white cotton crop top while Harley slowly gained consciousness. We didn''t speak much, simply opting to exchange some "good mornings". She settled back onto her pillow and watched me get ready for the day with a lover''s fascination.

    I appreciated that about our relationship, not much needed to be said. A great deal of the joy we got in it was purely from being a part of each other''s lives and enjoying the simple moments together. A shared meal, a good show, a wordless morning watching the other go about their lives. It was lovely and serene most of the time. Even something that could be stressful, like hosting dinner parties for our friends was alleviated by this, we were each other''s sous, taking up the slack where we had to, and making sure the other had what they needed to do what they did best. We communicated best with glances and nods, an unwritten language that to us, held a world of meanings.

    I did my makeup, just some quick smudges of eyeliner and blush, and walked back to Harley in bed to give her a kiss goodbye. "Alright babe, going to lunch with mom, then stopping by her place to help her assemble some new bookshelves, I''ll see you tonight." I felt bad lying to her, but there was no way she could know the truth of what I was doing.

    "Have fuuuun!" She kissed me back and flashed a quick smile as she laid back in bed and pulled the sheets over herself. Clearly more than happy to vegetate in bed all day.

    I don''t blame her at all, I missed doing that. I probably should focus on getting some quality me time soon.

    ---

    I met my mom at one of our favorite spots close to her in Park Slope. Altar was a quiet and moody bar with amazing food, strong drinks, and a comfy candlelit interior featuring well upholstered red leather couches. I found her in the extra secluded back room wearing a long sleeveless black dress with a matching handbag and chunky heels. She looked gorgeous for her age, which wasn''t old by any means, but most 53-year-old women would kill to look like she did. She saw me walk in, flipped her short blond hair, and stood up to greet me a warm hug.

    "Hey, dear, I''m surprised you''re awake! She teased in Romanian. We tried to keep our heritage and culture alive as much as possible within the family. Speaking Romanian whenever possible, and enjoying our family recipes. I chose a more American name when I transitioned to make life a little easier for myself, I had never-ending frustrations growing up due to mispronunciations and misspellings.

    "Haha, yeah, I''m trying to get better at not sleeping in." I''ve been busy lately, so I need all the daylight I can get. I responded in Romanian as well. We''d switch back and forth as needed throughout the conversation, but we always understood each other perfectly, no matter how many words we swapped in the same sentence. "How are you? You''re awfully dressed up. Did you cut your hair?"

    "Yes, I got sick of tying it back at work. Do you like it?" She teased her locks, which fell to her chin now, and gave me a switched between a few sassy looks, imitating a red carpet appearance. "Why is your belly showing? This is a nice place, you''re still dressing like a slut?"

    She was only half teasing, unfortunately the side effect of her no longer hurling transphobia is that she had since switched over to misogyny and body-shaming. She now loved to enforce her ideas of femininity on me. Dress nicely, act like a lady, no tattoos, normal hair colors, and shave your fucking armpits. I''m more than used to hearing it at this point, but I won''t lie and pretend that it doesn''t annoy me a little. I''ve tried to explain to her the fact that her ideals of femininity are by no means the norm in my circles, but that fact always fell on deaf ears. I let the insult slide off me, and the smile returned to my face soon after.

    "Of course, gotta find a rich husband somehow, it''s our family legacy." The smirk that escaped my lips was devilish enough to make her back down slightly. "Let''s have a nice lunch, what are you getting?"

    The mild insult and distraction did their job, redirecting her focus back onto the menu for some time before she responded with her usual order. "Burrata, and a mimosa of course, do you want to split the olives?"

    "Of course I do, I think I''m going to try the duck this time too." I perused the menu for a little longer, weighing my drink options before settling. "And I''ll have some fun and get a Negroni Sour."

    The waiter, a tall man with a well-groomed mustache, came over soon after and kindly took our orders and menus. We sat in silence, looking through our phones for a few minutes until he returned with our drinks and gave us space to resume our conversation.

    "So... How''s work going?" She spoke while putting her phone down and interleaved her fingers on the table. "You said you''ve been busy with something?"

    "Oh yeah, I''m doing a side project for a new friend, writing some backend code for one of his personal things." It was often difficult to meet her eyes without a few drinks, so I opted to focus my attention on the straw in my drink, stirring the liquid and making designs in the egg white froth. "It''s nothing serious, but he''s paying decently well, and the project is quite interesting to me."

    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    I decided to give her a hint of the truth to cover my tracks because she could always tell when I was lying or withholding information from her. The misdirection seemed to work, however, as her gaze softened a bit and she took a sip of her beverage.

    "Bravo dear, it will be good for your portfolio, you have to build it up as much as you can while you''re still young. What''s the company?"

    "It''s not a company, like I said, it''s just a passion project of his that I''ve been asked to help with, he''s probably going to sell the result when we''re done with it. We met through a friend who recommended me."

    She stated contemplatively at me, seemingly trying to decide if this was a worthwhile pursuit for her daughter. "And how long will this project last? I don''t want you ignoring your responsibilities at your real job."

    "Only a few months, don''t worry about that, I have plenty of time for both."

    "What about that girl you''re seeing? You''re still together?"

    "Yes mother, I''m still dating my girlfriend, that''s not changing anytime soon." The subtext behind her question was clear, she never approved of anyone I was with, she liked them for a few weeks until they did something that upset her, then she encouraged me to find another.

    She dismissed my defense with a wave of her hand. "You''ll change your mind eventu-"

    The waiter has returned with our food and set the plates before us. Everything looked amazing as always, and I took the opportunity to dig into my meal before the conversation could continue. She followed suit as well, seemingly content with letting the interrogation die there.

    We finished our meal, exchanging little more than passive compliments to the chef and small talk regarding the weather and plans for the week. We had both decided not to order more drinks, so the lunch did not last longer than an hour or so. I offered to walk her home after we had paid the bill, but she had dismissed that as well, citing some errands she needed doing. She did pull me aside as we left the restaurant, however, fishing through her purse and extracting a cigarette to light. Her face appeared tired and haggard.

    "Vivienne, I know I''m hard on you, but you know it''s out of love. You''re the most important person in my life, so I want you to be happy and successful. Fuck the bullshit, focus on yourself and your future."

    "I know, and you know that that''s the only thing I care about. I''ll see you soon, okay? Let''s make dinner sometime."

    She nodded slowly and gave me her second smile of the day before wrapping me in a big hug. "Okay, be good, I love you."

    "I love you too, I''ll try." I returned the hug, and let it last a while as I breathed in her signature vanilla and bergamot perfume. It reminded me of the comfort of home, and the childhood nostalgia was crippling.

    With that, she ended the embrace and turned to walk away.

    I was left in a daze, the vicious blend of insults, interrogation, and unconditional love were enough to stupefy. I should have been used to this by now, this is what the median of our relationship, but even now, it still takes time to recover from.

    It may seem nonsensical to have such a reaction, but behind most of her words often laid a million unsaid thoughts and judgements. The love may be unconditional, but her acceptance and pride were very much conditional, and that''s all I''ve ever wanted from her.

    It took some time to regain control over myself, but I spent it walking back towards the train station, and decided to try to head over to Alton''s early. Maybe Harley and I could have a nice, relaxing night in afterward.

    Hey, finished my lunch early, mind if I head over now?

    4:03 PM

    I didn''t wait for a response. I just hopped on the subway and made for Astoria. Worst-case scenario I could kill some time in a park.

    ---

    I arrived at Alton''s about an hour later, the train ride and walk over quickly becoming a typical commute. He had responded to my message a few minutes after I sent it.

    No worries, love, that may actually be better for us both.

    4:12 PM

    I''ll leave the door unlocked, see yourself in, I''ll meet you downstairs when I get a chance.

    4:14 PM

    I found the lab door open and unlocked, waiting for me, and I made myself at home quickly in the basement, eager to check on the results of our work. We had made some other edits to the cells we cultured that encouraged the cells to glow under a black light. The idea is that if the change that made them glow took hold, so would the ones we actually cared about. I excitedly removed the Petri dishes from the incubator and spent a few minutes looking around for a black light to inspect their progress.

    I soon found it and ran over to a darker part of the lab with my supplies in hand. They fucking glowed. The effect and the accompanying emotions were enough to leave me giggling and prancing about like a schoolgirl. I knew it had worked before I got here, but seeing it for myself was so much more impactful. I practically skipped back to Clara with my Petri dish to check on the DNA Analysis. As expected, she...it had reported a perfect match between the intended sequence and the measured results, and I was beaming with joy.

    I was hard at work with the next step of the procedure a while later, I was to use a virus to inject numerous chemicals into the cells that would encourage them to turn into "Induced Pluripotent Stem Cells" or iPSC''s for short. The chemicals, which were referred to as "Yamanaka Factors" had just been prepared, and I was gearing up to get them introduced into the cell line. I would need this line for all my experiments in the future anyway. I had studied up on this process a few days ago, so I was eager to put my newfound knowledge to use in the real world without supervision.

    "I see you''ve made yourself into quite the busy bee, Vi. You''re satisfied with the results of Wednesday''s work, I take it?"

    I was visibly startled by his quiet intrusion into my bubble, I had music blaring in one of my headphones, and I was properly in the zone, pipetting chemicals between different tubes to get the experiment ready when he walked in. I removed my headphone and looked up to greet the intruder, he was wearing one of his comfy outfits and sported a boastful grin, clearly proud of himself for scaring me.

    I narrowed my eyebrows at him and pointed the pipette menacingly in his direction.

    "Hasn''t anyone ever told you to not sneak up on a girl with a weapon? You''re lucky your cells aren''t being induced, sir."

    The joke hit its mark, and he gave me a soft chuckle as he made his way over to inspect my work with his hands in the air. "Don''t shoot, last thing I need is to grow a third head. The horror!"

    "I''m sure all the ladies would adore it, though. I''d certainly love such a fun surprise one day." I gave him a sinister grin and turned back to the test tube I had damn near nocked over. It was kinda nice to joke around with him like this, up to this point all our conversations were so serious, it was too rigid and transactional. Yes, this was a transaction, but I''d appreciate a bit of banter with the man I''d be spending countless hours with going forward.

    "I wouldn''t go getting your hopes up in that regard, love, I''m pretty sure snake morphology is quite uncommon in men these days. Such a shame." He came a bit closer and peered over my shoulder as I finished setting up my test. "Ahh, you''re preparing the stem cell culture I see, glad to hear it. You''re going to need a bloody ton of those growing forward."

    I finished transferring all my liquids to their various containers and started spreading the resultant cells onto a fresh dish. "In fact, I''m just about done in that regard, these puppies should grow up big and strong." I finished spreading the cells and capped the dish, marking it "SC1 08/09/2025", and turned over to meet Alton''s gaze. "You said you wanted my help with something?"

    The question made his smile grow, and his eyes quickly lit up. "Ah yes, wonderful, how familiar are you with working with large data sets? I''ve recently come into quite a treasure trove of questionably legal biodata that I''d like classified and fed into Clara."

    My smile dropped along with my eyebrows as I thought over his question, he''s not talking about what I think he is, is he? "You mean... you got data from a gene library?"

    "Yup, one of the largest in the nation was hacked recently, about 250,000 genomes were published to the dark web for pennies on the dollar. I know it''s morally dubious, but that kind of data could really help with Clara''s training, you know how helpful that would be."

    "Morally dubious Alton? That''s straight up wrong, you''re benefiting from the theft of confidential medical information." I was shocked by the fact that he would even think about asking me to help him with such a thing, it''s fucked up on so many levels.

    His face turned serious, and he inched closer to me, looking deep into my eyes. "This is where you draw the line Vi? You''re fine with experimenting on yourself to improve your mental health, but won''t help me try to improve the physical health of countless people in the future? Using this data won''t harm anyone. It''s already out there, others will use it too, and I''m sure you know their goals won''t be as noble."

    He did have a point there, it''s wrong, but the harm had been done, at least we had a chance to try to make the best out of a bad situation. It still weighed on me, but I also realized that I didn''t really have a choice but to concede if I wanted my experiments to continue. "Fair, I''m sorry, how can I help?"

    He visibly relaxed and stepped back a bit. "Nothing crazy, the data is already partly categorized, I''d like you to categorize the rest and make it as digestible as possible for Clara. No rush, let it be your side project." He finished his statement by walking over to a set of drawers and pulling out a thumb drive and handing it to me.

    "It''s all on here? I asked in a baffled tone.

    "Oh god no love, we''re talking about 37 petabytes of data, it''s all encrypted in that rack." He chuckled and pointed to a chest sized networking rack in the corner of the room. "It can only be accessed in this room, and only with a key, the drive I gave you contains one of the two keys, I have the second, of course. Don''t lose it."

    I frowned, guess I wouldn''t be taking this work home with me, commuting between home and Astoria is a bit of a hassle, but it would all be worth it in the end. "Got it, I''ll do my best. I''m just about done for the day anyway though, do you mind If I get started next time?"

    My question seemed to disappoint him slightly as his gaze wandered a bit and his face slackened. "You''re not going to stay for dinner?"

    "I can''t tonight, I''m sorry, got responsibilities at home. I''ll stay next time though!" His response surprised me a tad, maybe he was growing used to the company. I wasn''t sure how many people he had in his life, but it did seem like he was getting used to my increasing presence in his home now that I thought about it.

    "Very well" He stiffened. "See you soon love, I appreciate the help." He watched me for a bit as I gathered my purse and stuffed my phone and headphones back in it.

    "Likewise" I smiled broadly" See you soon love.

    ---

    I arrived back home around 9pm, and I made sure to ruffle up my jeans and top a bit, and smeared a bit of dust on them for good measure. Making doubly sure the lie was believable, wouldn''t want Harley questioning if I really had been helping my mom with furniture. The apartment was as mellow as it usually was around this time. The overhead lights were off and the only other lighting in the living room coming from the dimmed standing lamps and tv.

    I found Harley on the couch in front of it, sprawled out comfortably with one of our large knitted blankets covering most of her body, and a glass of wine on the side table nearby. Fucking perfect, this was proving to be a great night.

    "Hello love, sorry I''m late." Shit, the anglicism seemed to have gotten into my head. I knocked off my sneakers and headed into the bedroom to change into my inside clothes quickly. She waited for me to return into the living room before turning to greet me.

    "Oh hi love, how was your day?"

    I chucked at the light tease. "It was mostly good, my mom was her usual judgmental self, but I persevered. We had lunch at Altar, and then I had to do most of the work assembling her bookshelves. The last thing I needed was her getting frustrated over the instructions. How about you?"

    "Glad to hear it, honestly not much on my end, just caught up on The Circle and lazed around. I ordered pizza and your half is on the counter." She pointed vaguely to the kitchen.

    I appreciated the gesture and the fact that she knew me so well, but decided to ignore the food for now and plopped down on the couch next to her, shuffling closer before tucking myself under the blanket as well. "Thanks baby, I appreciate the thought, what episode is this?"

    "The finale, John just found out that Kate was actually a catfish and is super embarrassed that he spent weeks sexting a 40-year-old guy. Sorry about the spoiler."

    "Ahh, no worries, you know I''ve been too busy to catch up anyway." I cuddled up closer and leaned my head on her shoulder, more than content to spend the night with her, as we had early in our relationship.

    We laid on the couch, watching reality tv and video essays late into the night, and Harley seemed at peace for the first time in weeks.

 Twelve

    Sunday

    8/10/25

    Harley and I were laying in bed when the bang sounded throughout the apartment, it was late, sometime around 2 am, and we were just tucking in for a night''s rest. We were drunk, tired, and properly out of our minds, but those effects were quickly nullified by the frantic maelstrom of chaos that followed. Footsteps came soon after, multiple pairs, they sounded from the living room and quickly made their way throughout the small apartment, our room was in the back, we had some time.

    I reacted quickly and grabbed for the dulled battleaxe we kept behind the bed before quietly getting up and sneaking to position myself just beyond the door frame, hopefully out of sight enough. I turned the lock on the bedroom door for good measure.

    Creak

    The footsteps sounded on the other side of the door.

    Harley followed my lead, reaching for an empty wine bottle that happened to be on our dresser and tucking herself into the open closet with it.

    The tension in the air was palpable, and the apartment was eerily quiet, I could feel my heart beating out of my chest and hear the heavy breathing of the person beyond the wall. The door knob jiggled once, twice, three times, and I held my fucking breath, praying to every god I could think of that they would just take our tv or some shit and leave. They didn''t.

    Boom

    The door shattered open, and I was confronted by a giant fucking man, foot still elevated from the kick that broke our door down. I didn''t wait for him to see me. I raised the axe and swung for his goddamn chest with all the strength I had.

    Blood splattered, and I heard his scream, followed by the distinct sound of a gunshot. I swung wildly again, this time aiming for his legs. The blow landed, and the vibration damn near knocked the weapon out of my hands. The man smashed to the ground, screaming his fucking lungs out over his wounds, but I was not about to take any chances. My third blow was for his head, I did offer him the grace of turning the axe sideways, however, I would not have this bastard''s death on my hands. The strike landed true, and his screams stopped with a dramatic thud as his head hit the floor, devoid of consciousness.

    Time was moving very slowly at this moment and I took full advantage, taking a second to look over at Harley and make sure she was ok. She was still standing, visibly shaken, but unharmed, the bullet missed us both, thank fucking god. I took another second to look over the man''s fallen body, quickly finding the dropped handgun and picking it up, I hoped it had more bullets, but I didn''t have the opportunity to check. I dropped the axe and wielded the pistol, grateful for the one or two times I went to a shooting range with my father as a teenager.

    I didn''t know what to do next, though, there was clearly at least one more person in the apartment, judging by the noise in the living room, and he sounded as frantic as I was. The footsteps thumping faster and faster, making their way towards our room. I was not about to get into a gunfight right now, no way would I survive that.

    THINK BITCH, THIIINK!  The voice in my head urged me on, desperate for some plan, we had no good options. I decided to bluff, and instinctively switched my voice back to that old masculine one I had known for decades.

    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    "I know you hear me motherfucker, your friend is down, and I have his fucking gun. If you want to avoid a shootout right now I suggest you get the fuck out of my house!" I bellowed as loudly and authoritatively as I could, the unpracticed voice burning my throat as I let it escape my lips as gravely as I could muster.

    "Shit, shit, okay don''t shoot bro, I''m out." He sounded young and scared, clearly unwilling to risk his skin over some bullshit robbery.

    I turned, and peaked through the doorway, hearing the scuttling of the man somewhere in the living room, but I couldn''t be sure that he bought my bluff. I pointed the gun through the doorway and fired blindly, hoping I''d miss anything important.

    "SHIT, FUCK, ALRIGHT!" I could practically hear him pissing himself as he ran out of the apartment. I listened for a while longer, making sure the footsteps quieted until they were completely gone. Only then did I release the breath I didn''t know I had been holding, drop the gun, and run to check on Harley.

    "Jesus fucking Christ Vi, how the fuck did you do that? Did you kill him?" Harley was panicked and let herself drop to her knees as I got to her.

    "I don''t think so, I don''t know, I just had to scare him away. Are you good?"

    "Yeah, yeah I''m fine, are you okay?"

    "Yeah, I think so, call the cops, I need to sit."

    I dropped to the floor next to her, letting the gun fall from my hands. Mind purely focused on letting the adrenaline pass through my body and calming my racing heartbeat. What the fuck happened? Who the hell were these bastards? What had I done?

    My gaze snapped to the still form of the man I had knocked out, he lay on the floor motionless, wearing all black, and surrounded by an ever-growing puddle of blood. The axe was on the floor next to him, blade splattered with his blood as well. I shimmied over to him and fumbled on his neck, feeling for a pulse.

    Thump, thump, thump

    The beat was weak, and slightly erratic, but he was thankfully alive. The comfort of that knowledge washed over me, and I let my body slump against the side of my bed frame, listening to Harley''s frantic voice as she spoke with the operator.

    "Yes, yes, 2 guys, one is down, he needs an ambulance, they had guns, yes, the other one escaped, okay." The answers came from her in rapid bursts, and I could only assume the operator''s questions from her responses. She covered the microphone with her hand and spoke to me next. "They''ll be here soon, sit down and calm down, take deep breaths babe."

    I listened to her commands, content to let my mind calm and wander for however long it''d take the pigs to arrive. Time was moving so fucking slowly, and I could not be free of this situation quickly enough, this was so FUCKED. I allowed my head to drop into my blood splattered hands and took deep breaths for what felt like goddamn days. Slowly in, slowly out, I thought to myself as I calmed my racing heart. Slowly in, slowly out, I reminded myself as I worked to settle my frantic thoughts. Slowly in, slowly out, I repeated over and over as I finally was able to get a grip on my body. Slowly in, slowly out, slowly in, slowly out.

    The police did not take long to arrive, within minutes there were countless officers in our apartment, they all had hands on their holsters and walked throughout the apartment with flashlights drawn. "We''re in here." Harley called to them with a weak voice, and they made their way over to the bedroom. The first officer took his time with the sight of the room, looking the three of us over for a while before speaking.

    "Don''t worry, we got this, are you two hurt? Can you walk?"

    "We''re fine, I took him down before he could hurt us." I spoke quietly.

    His gaze snapped back to me, before scanning the still body and the weapon that laid discarded next to him. "That''s your axe?"

    I nodded silently.

    "Okay, don''t worry, go sit in the living room with my partners, we''ll take care of the scene." He urged us up and kneeled before the criminal, checking his vitals. "JOHN, get that paramedic in here."

    We both got up and timidly left the room, allowing ourselves to be escorted out of the bedroom crime scene, and settling awkwardly on the couch. What followed was an interrogation that lasted hours, we repeated the same story countless times, in ever-increasing detail until all the various officers were satisfied with our answers. The man was wheeled out on a stretcher, and both of our weapons were carried out in evidence bags. The officers did their best to assure us that we were safe, and no trouble would befall us, I had acted in self-defense. The fact that I used his gun would complicate things, but I was repeatedly told it would be fine.

    I frankly did not give a shit at that moment, sure, the reassurance helped, but all I wanted was to go to bed and let this night escape my brain.

    The ordeal eventually ended, evidence was gathered, statements were taken, and blood was clumsily cleaned by a well-meaning officer afterward. We were given a phone number to contact, and assured that they would be in touch tomorrow with nest steps. By the end of it Harley and I were in no place to listen to their instructions, so she pulled out her phone and recorded the officers in a voice memo as they laid out the plan for us.

    They left us alone after, battered mentally and physically, and we passed out on our living room couch, both very much unwilling to return to the fucked up scene in our bedroom.

 Interlude / Authors Note

    Hey gang, unfortunately the world in which I started writing this book is no longer the same one that we live in. Because of this, my decision to have the story take place in the near future (2025) now seems like more of an alternative timeline than the realistic experience of a trans person in America. I may fix that at some point.

    This story is not intended to be overtly political, but the messages are clear. Bodily autonomy is a very clear theme in the work. It''s Vivienne''s body, and it''s her fucking choice as to what to do with it. It''s your body, and it''s your fucking choice, don''t let anybody tell you otherwise.

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    America was never safe for trans people, and it is going to be a lot more dangerous for us going forward. It''s going to be a lot more dangerous for many other communities as well. I''m fortunate enough to be safe despite the bs, but most are not in the same position.

    Fight for what you believe in, fight for those who cannot fight, fight for your rights. They will try to break us with all their might, and they will fucking fail. We are strong, we are united, we are legion.

    The next chapter is coming soon, unfortunately I''m currently planning a move to Europe so my life is a bit chaotic. But I''m working on it and the show will go on.

    I love you all.

    -Luna

 Thirteen

    Monday

    8/11/25

    Day came rapidly and incessantly, and both of us were far too unwilling to get out of bed after the night''s ordeal. I had called out of work at some point before bed, citing the robbery, and Harley had also messaged her corporate client something to the same effect. So we just laid there, dozing in and out of sleep in each other''s arms, until the hunger pains caught up to us. Forcing us back into the real world, to tackle our troubles head-on.

    We worked quietly and solemnly in the kitchen, frying some eggs, and heating some frozen hash browns. It was around 3pm, far too late for breakfast, but we had little to no shits left to give. My mind was stuck in an endless cycle, repeating the violence over and over until I was so fucking numb that I couldn''t speak. The image of the man kicking through the bedroom door followed by my swing, and endless splattered blood played in my head like the world''s most fucked up GIF. I felt like a monster, I knew I was protecting myself and my partner, but a little part of me reveled in the violence of it. The sheer satisfaction of answering one transgression with another washed over me, and I enjoyed his screams of pain as I slammed the blunt weapon into his chest.

    Did that make me a beast? No better than the ones who attempted violence on us? No idea... I was so beyond caring that it was shocking. I just went about my day like a philosophical zombie, desperate to let the monotonous rhythm wash my thoughts away. I washed dishes, checked my phone, cleaned the bedroom, checked my phone, did my skincare, checked my phone, found the fired bullet in a random wall, checked my phone, and resolved to let life and drugs drown out the flashbacks. It took hours, it took willpower, and it was endlessly painful, but the walls eventually went back up, and I became a functional person again.

    Harley was not much better off, we hadn''t spoken much all day, but I knew by the look in her eyes that she was also desperately trying to rebuild her own mental fortitude. We were both quite good at that, shutting away unhelpful thoughts was a skill, and it really helped in moments like these. Breaking down and succumbing to the trauma would resolve nothing. This required strength.

    We got a call around nightfall on her phone from the police, and she put it on speaker as the officer proceeded to speak.

    "Hello Harley?" The rough baritone voice on the other end sounded throughout the living room.

    "Yup, Vi is here as well." She spoke curtly and without emotion.

    "Good, just wanted to follow up, the injured perpetrator is still in the hospital, he''s stable, but took a hell of a beating. The other one is on the loose for now, but we have footage from quite a few security cameras, and we''re searching through the other one''s phone. So we should be able to find him soon enough."

    "Okay, thank you for the help."

    "Is there anything else you need from us?" I spoke up hesitantly, willing my voice to remain neutral. I just wanted this to be over.

    "No, we have all the info from your end. I''ll let you know when we have more resolution."

    "Thank you officer..." I asked, deliberately letting my sentence fade away questioningly."

    "Hernandez, you met me yesterday, I''m the detective in charge of your case, I''ll be your point of contact going forward."

    "Thank you." Harley finished.

    "I''ll let you two get back to your night, have a good one"

    "You t-" The line cut off abruptly before Harley got a chance to finish her platitude. Fucking rude.

    Harley stared at me for a long moment, allowing the tension in the air to grow palpable, clearly trying to think of an appropriate thing to say. "What do you wanna do?"

    "Tonight?" I responded quizzically.

    "Yeah..." She looked borderline defeated, devoid of her usual fight and moxie.

    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    "Nothing, let''s just get high and pretend like nothing happened? I''m already missing our normal life."

    "Sounds good." She reached over to the coffee table and grabbed the large mason jar of weed, portioning it out into the grinder.

    "Is it bad that I was hoping he''d be more hurt?" I asked sadly, too caught up in my own emotions to avoid broaching the subject.

    She looked at me for a long moment while grinding the weed, clearly debating the answer in her head. "I don''t think so, we wanted to harm us, he had a fucking gun V. It''s not like you enjoyed hurting him..."

    "What if I did?" I asked curtly, intent on watching her hands spin the metal discs around instead of meeting her gaze.

    "Honestly, I probably would have too, I''ve been beating myself up about not helping more, I was stuck like a deer in headlights. It feels good to be protective, it feels good to take back that power." She spoke slowly, and methodically began arranging the ground weed into the creased rolling paper. "Fuck those guys. Don''t let them get to you."

    "Yeah, you''re right. But I don''t blame you for freezing up babe, you were rightfully afraid. No shame in feeling that." I spoke as I continued watching her hands delicately rolling and folding the weed into a cone.

    "It still feels like shit V, If I were alone, I doubt I would have handled the situation, we got so fucking lucky. It''s a miracle we weren''t hurt." She punctuated her statement by lighting the joint and taking a long deep hit, passing it to me right after. "What the fuck did they even want from us?"

    I took the offered catharsis thankfully and took a long Inhale of my own before replying. "Fuck if I know, there''s a hundred people in this building, why us specifically? We''re on a random floor, in a back corner, why not the penthouses?" That thought had been wiggling at me all day, this seemed too coincidental, far from a crime of opportunity.

    "I don''t think it was a coincidence, we were targeted for some reason, did you recognize the one you took down?" She reached out as she spoke and pilfered the joint from my hand, puffing on it thoughtfully before breaking out in a nasty cough.

    I let my mind wander on that thought as she composed herself and continued smoking, she had a point, there was little to no reason to choose our apartment. We were in a nice neighborhood, for sure, but ours was nothing but a random door on a random floor in a random building. Why us? "No, I didn''t get a good look, but I don''t think I knew him." My mind snapped back to his face at that moment, groaning in pain and speckled in blood, he had no distinctive features aside from a bullish nose and a neck tattoo peeking out. I recognized neither of those.

    "Maybe the detective will find something, that is his job after all." She passed the jay back to me, deep in her own thoughts, and crossed her legs on the couch, facing me."

    "Fat chance." I replied mirthlessly, accepting the dwindling jay and taking a hit. "They''ll probably just try to close the case as quickly and easily as possible."

    "Fair, I''m just trying to hold out for some semblance of closure, I''m good on that for now by the way, my head is still spinning, and I don''t wanna get too high." She punctuated her statement with a wave of the hand and leaned back into the couch, gazing into the middle distance.

    I followed her lead, laying back and finishing the dregs of the roach for a while, thinking through our shit situation. "I don''t blame you babe, that''s all I want too." I let the time pass, perfectly content to stew in our shared silence, and eventually put out the charred remnant of our joint. "I love you."

    She turned back to me, and I saw the faintest glimmer of a smile stretch her cheeks before replying and leaning in closely. "I love you too, Vivienne." The look in her eyes spoke novels, the immeasurable emotions too numerous to speak, but it drove me absolutely mad. I''d been so shitty to her, my partner, my other half, I''d taken the ease of our relationship for granted, and little moments like this only reinforced how right we were for each other. I needed to be better.

    I leaned in and gave her a long deep kiss, before pulling away and meeting her gaze with one of my own. Our eyes intertwined for some time, and I took in their deep blue hue and endless chasms. "I''m sorry. For everything, for being distant, for being neglectful, I''m sorry."

    "I forgive you, we''re both going through a lot." Her eyes gazed back into mine, and for a minute, we were so at peace in the world that everything around us seemed to melt away. Just the two of us in our own manufactured void. Content in each other''s company despite the ceaseless chaos around us. I wished for nothing more than to just live here with her forever, so I resolved to enjoy this little moment while we had it. I drank in her deep lilac and fresh cotton smell, and allowed myself to collapse in her arms. She followed suit, and we hung there for an eternity.

    "What''s going on with you Vi?" The question came softly and without judgement. "I''ve missed you."

    I let out a small sigh, remorseful over the fading calm, and gathered my thoughts. "I know, and I''m sorry, but I''m not ready to speak about that yet. There''s a lot on my plate, and I''m still working on it. Can we talk about it when I''m ready?" I asked remorsefully, not prepared to tell her the truth, but also very much unable to lie to her at this moment.

    She seemed slightly hurt by my denial but acquiesced quickly, evidently too tired to pursue a line of questioning at this moment. "Sure, I''m here for you when you''re ready. I love you, no matter what."

    "I love you, no matter what." I replied in kind, and slipped back into her arms.

 Fourteen

    Tuesday 8/12/25

    I awoke in a daze to the sound of my phone falling off the nightstand and vibrating on the floor, it had likely been going off for minutes, judging by the fact that it was on the fucking floor, but my sleep addled mind had been completely unwilling to acknowledge its disturbance to my respite. It continued to vibrate incessantly, and the sound had the effect of stirring Harley as well, so I caved to the object''s demands and reached down to rescue it. The display lit up, and my brain was immediately stunned into wakefulness by the flash bang that was the screen on maximum brightness. It took some time for my eyes to adjust enough to read and comprehend the text displayed.

    I had 17 notifications, it was 10:12 AM, and I had just missed a video call from work. Shit. I let out a barely audible groan as I pushed myself out of bed and made my way towards the bathroom, my dry mouth and bowels protesting the neglect as much as my phone. I sat on the toilet and began composing myself as I thumbed through the notifications. 12 of them were from work, I missed a meeting and had numerous Slack messages from coworkers regarding my absence and questioning me about a specific function in my code. The thirteenth was from the subsequent 1:1 I had scheduled with my boss and had just missed, and the remaining 4 were from my group chat with Chloe and Tommy.

    Chloe

    Hey babes, wanna come over for dinner tonight? James is making his "famous" pasta, and I miss y''all!

    7:23 AM

    Tommy

    Not sure, depends on work, but sounds fun! Famous?

    8:09 AM

    Chloe

    He insists it is, come if you can!

    8:11 AM

    Tommy

    Lol, ok. I''ll do my best to get out early!

    8:48 AM

    I tried to think of my plans for the week as I typed my response. Did I have anything planned for tonight? I could cancel my plans with Alton.

    I''ll be there! Miss you too!

    10:16 AM

    I allowed a sigh to escape as I mentally checked off one set of notification and turned my attention to the ones from work, sending quick apologies to my coworkers and rescheduling my 1:1 for later in the day. Last night I told my boss I''d be working from home this week, so at least I didn''t have to rush into the office late. I finished relieving myself and ordered some breakfast for delivery as I padded into the kitchen and brewed us a pot of coffee. I poured myself a large cup and carried it into the guest bedroom where my desk was located, preparing my brain to abandon its recent traumas and focus on the day before me.

    I spent the next few hours catching up on lost work and resolving trivial issues in an effort to feed my starving brain a bit of the dopamine it desperately craved, knowing deep down that it wouldn''t be satiated for long without meaningful progress towards addressing the real problems in my life. But it worked in the short term, and before long I had finished my 1:1, squashed a few minor bugs, and checked in with my teammates.

    The food had arrived about an hour ago, I had delivered Harley''s bacon egg and cheese to her in bed, and the crumbs of my cheese danish still littered my desk as I typed into my keyboard methodically. She woke to the food delivery and gratefully accepted her meal, finishing it in bed and continuing to her work in the other room. I envied her for her flexible schedule and comfortable job. I would love nothing more than to apply the few artistic talents I had, it seemed a hell of a lot better than having to be analytical all day, but maybe the grass was just greener in this case.

    ��������

    The first half of the day went by quickly and with relative ease, it had just turned 5 o''clock, and Harley had come in without me noticing. She blessed me with a surprise hug that startled me slightly, and gently pulled my right headphone out to whisper into my ear.

    "I love you." She breathed while continuing to hug me deeper and deeper, sinking against my neck and taking a long minute to revel in my proximity. It was a feeling I had missed more gravely than my conscious brain even knew. I''d been taking our constant presence in each other''s lives for granted, and the break-in only served to cement my devotion to her. I don''t know what I would have done if she had gotten hurt, or worse.

    "I love you too, babe." I replied quietly, there was no need for any more words on that front. We both knew exactly what the other was thinking. "Do you wanna come out with me tonight? Meeting up with Chloe and James for dinner at her place." I had texted Alton to cancel on tonight a few hours ago, and he responded, assuring me that he would keep the experiment alive in my absence.

    "Sure! Just dinner?" The answer came quickly and without hesitation, I''m sure we both needed a night out.

    "We may get some drinks after, you know how it is. Wear something cute." I punctuated my command with a lithe smile and a quick kiss. "Not that you''re not always looking cute."

    "Very well love I''ll go get dolled up, don''t take too long in here."

    "I''ll try, should be almost done." I didn''t let the jab get to me, I anticipated hearing it more often going forward, considering how much time I''d be spending at Alton''s in the upcoming months. I watched her leave the room, and returned to quickly button up my work for the day.

    ��������

    Harley and I had opted for slightly matching outfits, a silent show of solidarity against a harsh world. She had selected a flowy black top which gently draped over her shoulders and accented the color of her short blue skirt and tights, the fit expertly showed off her generous legs and looked damned good on her. I had opted for a tight sapphire top and black jeans with combat boots, far too unwilling to submit to femininity on this occasion. At least my boobs looked good in the top. We dressed quickly and applied light layers of makeup, mostly eyeliner, before calling a cab to Chloe''s place. Tommy had replied to the group chat while we were getting ready, he was unfortunately stuck at work and wouldn''t be able to make it out tonight.

    We spent the ride in silence, each looking out through our respective windows. The city was remarkably quiet, even for a Tuesday night. Barely a honk was heard as we were driven down the typically nightmare-ish Canal st and over the Manhattan Bridge to my friend''s home in Bushwick. It almost seemed like the city knew better than to fuck with us.

    Chloe greeted us both eagerly at the door with big hugs, she wore a beautiful mid-length floral dress that perfectly hugged her curves, and I smelled James'' cooking from the entryway.

    "Hi babes! Thanks for coming on such short notice! It''s so nice to see you both! Come in!"

    I eagerly hugged her back and took in the scent of her equally floral perfume. She evidentially had a theme going, literally smelling like the gardenias on her dress. "Nice touch with the flower scent, by the way. I missed you so much, we come bearing tea."

    She pulled away and looked at me quizzically before escorting us both through the doorway. "Thank you, and it''d better be piping, we certainly are going to need it tonight."

    "Oh, you know it always is." Harley replied sassily, following Chloe into the house and taking her shoes off. I followed right after, and before long the three of us were at the kitchen bar, chatting away while James cooked. Chloe regularly got in and out of her seat, helping her man with meal prep, pouring wine, and tasting the food. The conversation flowed naturally around different trivialities in our lives.

    "So there I was, alone in the lab at midnight, trying to preserve my sanity, and I had 30 fucking mice running around on the floor, one literally tried to crawl up my damn pants." James spoke, animately recounting the time he accidentally let loose a bunch of lab mice. "I ended up having to bribe them back into their cages with food, no way was I going to catch them all. Those fuckers were fast as hell."

    "How long did that take?" Harley questioned while sipping on her glass of wine. She wore a genuine smile on her face, clearly more than happy to be out of the apartment.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    "Three...goddamn...hours," James replied with an exhausted expression. "And even then, I didn''t get them all. Three of the females ended up lodging themselves behind some cabinets and wouldn''t leave without me scaring them out and into an improvised trap."

    We all laughed at his expense, and Chloe wrapped an arm around him in solidarity before turning to the two of us with a quizzical look. "So, what''s the tea guys? Don''t hold out on me."

    I took in a deep breath and sat up a bit straighter, the mirth quickly evacuating my body. "We...ermmm...had our apartment...broken into a few days ago...while we were home."

    Chloe''s face expression went from curious to shocked, to angry in a matter of milliseconds while I spoke, she genuinely looked like she was ready to fight someone. "VI, my love, THAT''S NOT FUCKING TEA, What the fuck happened? Are y''all okay?"

    I released a nervous chuckle at the line of questioning and prepared myself for the story. Fortunately, Harley responded before I could.

    "We''re fine Clo, they had guns, but Vi took one out and got the other to leave, we weren''t hurt." She spoke calmly and monotonously, as if those events were without emotion.

    "THEY HAD GUNS? What do you mean, Vi took one out?" She looked at me with a bewildered expression.

    "Oh...yeah, you know that prop battleaxe we keep in the bedroom? The one I used to scare your ex away a few years ago? I grabbed it when I heard them break in and used it to incapacitate one of the guys. Then I grabbed his gun and yelled at the other guy with my dead voice."

    Chloe and James looked on the verge of going into shock at the news, they took a long moment to process the news before forming any more questions. James spoke first.

    ''So let me get this straight V, you used a fucking battleaxe to take down a home invader in the middle of the night, killed him, grabbed his gun, and just yelled a-"

    "I didn''t kill him," I cut in. " I just swung it at him a few times until he passed out from the pain. There was a lot of blood, but the cops said he lived."

    "You did shoot the gun to scare the other guy away too, your dead voice wasn''t that scary babe." Harley quipped.

    "Okay...you two are being way too fucking casual about this. Y''all could have died, you damn near killed someone," She pointed her glass at me. "And you''re acting like this isn''t insane?"

    Harley shrugged and looked at me for a second before turning back to our accusers. "Blame the trauma, we''ve spent the past few days fucked up about it. There''s only so many breakdowns you can have in a week."

    "Plus," I added. "Nobod...we didn''t get hurt, and nothing was taken, so everything is okay. The other guy is still on the run for now, but I think they''ll catch him soon."

    "This is insane," James replied while plating our food. "I''m just glad you two are okay. You got so lucky."

    "Honestly," Harley responded, caressing my arm under the table. "Now that we''re not in danger, it felt like a scene out of Home Alone. Worst burglars ever. Imagine getting taken down and disarmed by this bitch? I''d rather lose a fight to a pelican." She finished, waving at me broadly, with a warm teasing smile on her face.

    So rude! One would think their lover would stick up for them, I''ll definitely get her back for that jab. "Hey, I''m strong, I''ve worked out a few times this year!"

    Harley responded in between chuckles, "You did yoga like three times babe, and you passed out in shavasana the last time. You''re hardly a warrior, but you did handle that axe well so I''ll give you that."

    My cheeks flushed at the insult, mild embarrassment washing over me at the memory of that incident. The instructor let me nap and woke me after the entire class left. "Yeah, well, at least I wasn''t about to defend myself with a vase." I stuck my tongue at my traitorous partner and continued. "Plus, yo-"

    "Okay, okay you two, don''t have a cat fight. You''re both big and strong." Chloe interrupted with a giggle. "Any idea what they wanted?"

    I let the teasing insults leave my mind and thought for a second about her question. "Honestly, no clue, but we''re both pretty convinced it wasn''t happenstance. There''s no way that it was random chance, we were targeted for some reason."

    James brought out the food and refilled all our glasses before we all settled down to eat. The pasta looked amazing, with a generous helping of parm on top and little cherry tomatoes in the sauce. We all ate our first few bites in relative silence, letting out the occasional complimentary moan and sipping our wine.

    "Great job baby, I''m sorry for doubting you." Chloe said genuinely to her boyfriend, before turning to us and continuing. "This is our first real dinner party as a couple, and he insisted on doing all the cooking, don''t get me wrong, he cooks for me sometimes, and it''s pretty good, but I was still worried cuz you know men. " She spoke that last word in a whisper, with a flat hand blocking her lips from his sight.

    We both chuckled softly at that and Harley responded. "You killed it James, it''s really good!"

    "Yeah, great job, love the sauce." I joined.

    "So what happens now? The cops are going to investigate and let you know?" James asked between forkfuls.

    "Essentially, they gotta find the other guy, and then they''ll let us know when they finish the investigation and try them." Harley replied.

    "Well in that case here''s to violence and justice." Chloe spoke, lifting her glass in a toast.

    "To violence and justice!" We all responded, our glasses clinking in the air.

    ��������

    Dinner didn''t last much longer, and we elected to head to a local karaoke bar afterward. The alcohol and plentiful food had the lot of us in a great mood. The bar wasn''t packed, considering the fact that it was only Tuesday, but we, along with the rest of the patrons were all being rowdy and having a good time. Harley and I had put in tickets to sing a few songs each, even putting in a ticket to duet the song "Jackson" by Johnny Cash. The gang was unconvinced that my dead voice was deep enough to scare away that intruder, so I intended to prove it, by singing Johnny''s part as well as I could.

    The drinks had been flowing for about an hour or so, and we were all properly feeling it, we each had our songs and Chloe absolutely killed it with her cover of "Juno". We had all gone absolutely feral over her dancing. James also did pretty well singing "Welcome to the Jungle", hyping up the patrons with a surprisingly good Axl Rose impression! Harley and I were called up next for our duet, and our friends cheered us on eagerly as we approached the stage. We both sat in our stools and looked up to the screen, microphones in hand, as the music started. The two of us sang our hearts out, and I was solidly impressed with Harley''s June Carter voice as we left the stage with the crowd cheering.

    "Ok, ok, I''ll give you that, Vivi," Chloe started, leaning against the bar with her drink in hand. "You still have that voice down, it''s not as deep as it was years ago, but not bad!"

    "Thanks babe!" I replied, leaning in and giving her a big hug. "Harley killed it too!"

    "Thank you, thank you," She said, giving us an elaborate bow. "Y''all wanna go out for a cigarette?"

    We all nodded in agreement and followed out the front door, making ourselves comfortable on a stoop next door. A couple of drunk guys followed us out and camped out with their own cigarettes by the parked cars. One of them turned to look at us as we lit up, and sneered at me before turning back to his friend in conversation. The other quickly followed suit, and they started making their way towards us.

    "Shit, I think we''ve got trouble," I said to my friends, while nodding over to the guys. "Be cool."

    They got up next to us, and just started awkwardly for a minute before Harley spoke. "Can...we... help you guys?

    "Yea," the shorter one replied, "y-you two just sang right?" He gestured vaguely towards Harley and I.

    "We did," I answered cheerily. "Want an autograph?"

    The other one scowled in response. "No, I don''t want a fucking autograph. I want you trannies to get out of our fucking bar."

    The sound of that word had the four of us immediately standing and James was face to face with the asshole in a matter of seconds. "What the fuck did you call my friends you piece of shit?" They stood inches from each other, chests puffed, and time seemed to slow.

    "You heard me bro, fuck off back to stonewall. Those things shouldn''t be allowed in public." The man pushed James, and I went fucking feral.

    I was not going to let my friends get harassed like that, not after Sunday, and certainly not after I''d spend the last countless years dealing with the same shit. I saw red, immediately stumbling off the steps and storming over to defend James. I walked up to the asshole and swung at him before he could question my involvement. The punch went a bit wide, but still connected easily with his fat fucking head. The piece of shit bellowed in pain.

    Harley followed quickly after, hopping off the stairs and kicking the other guy square in the nuts. Chloe was stunned, but James followed our lead and threw a hook into the face of my aggressor, hitting him solidly and making the bastard stumble slightly. The dick regained his composure and threw a wild swing back at James, but I stopped him dead in his tracks, tackling his drunk ass to the floor. "YOU FUCKING FA-". I refused to let him land a hit on my friend, he hit the ground hard, too fucked up to properly hold his balance. James finished him off with a kick to his kidneys, his boots crunching satisfyingly as the man bellowed in pain.

    "Stay the fuck down you dumb sack of shit, don''t make me send you to the goddamn hospital." James yelled in his face as I lifted myself off the smelly asshole, regaining my balance and looking over to check on Harley.

    She had also managed to get her guy to the floor, and he was damn near crying with his arms up in terror as she straddled him, throwing vicious punches into his skull one after the other while screaming into his face. "IF...I EVER...SEE YOU...AGAIN...YOU''RE...GOING...TO WISH...I KILLED...YOU!" The man had called unconscious as she spoke, and her swings continued, nevertheless, blood was spewing from his busted lip and nose, but she didn''t let that stop her. Her face was absolutely feral with rage as Chloe stepped in and gently touched her shoulder.

    "Hey, hey, he''s down babe, don''t make this worse." Chloe spoke calmingly, encouraging Harley up by her arm. "The last thing you need is his blood on you, he''s down."

    It took Harley a minute to snap out of her violent reverie, she looked down over her aggressor, frowned, and turned to us. I had huddled next to Chloe by this point, and James stood calmly with his boot on the other guy''s neck in a clear threat to stay down. "Right, sorry, I got a bit carried away." She spoke as she made her way off the body of the man she''d knocked unconscious. "What now?"

    "Fuck em, let''s leave them here to rot and go pay our tab off." I replied, looking to my friends for confirmation.

    "This jackass is still awake, what should we do with him?" James called calmly.

    "I got it, give me a second." Chloe answered as she walked casually inside the bar. She emerged a minute later with the bouncer in tow. "These are the assholes."

    He was a wall of a man, 6''5", with a dark complexion, buzzed hair, and muscles threatening to burst from his black t-shirt. "Jesus Christ, these guys? I got this, go close your tabs, you''re done for the night". He waved us inside, and I turned my head as we complied to watch him lift the still conscious man up by his hair and slam him into the wall of the bar.

    ��������

    We paid the tab quickly and turned to walk the 10 minutes to a different bar nearby, all laughing heartily as we recounted the events that just transpired.

    "What got into you two? We could have just talked them down, didn''t need to go all superwoman on the poor bastards." James asked while taking a sip from his beer. We had grabbed our drinks to-go, not willing to let our money go to waste.

    "They had it coming!" I chuckled. "We needed to let go of some stress, and they had punch-able faces, it''s a win-win!"

    "I don''t think they won anythi-" Chloe replied before she was cut off by Harley.

    "They won a fucking lesson, you can''t just walk around here thinking you own the place, those Jersey bastards are fucked in the head!"

    "What makes you think they''re from Jersey?" James asked.

    Harley looked at him mirthfully and took a long sip of her drink. " I mean, who else would come to a bar in Bushwick, proclaim it theirs, and shout transphobic slurs at a group of people? That''s dumb as shit!"

    "Fair, but you did go a bit overboard there, babe." I replied. "Not that the bloodlust wasn''t sexy, but you wouldn''t do well in jail."

    "I know, I know..." She replied sadly "I got a bit too into it, you were right when you mentioned that thing the other day about enjoying it. Fucker had it coming. I won''t apologize."

    "Enjoying what?" Chloe cut in to the conversation.

    "I...uhh... got really into it the other day when those guys broke in, It felt good smashing him with the axe, and I was telling her that I kinda felt bad about how much I liked the feeling. I guess she understands now."

    Chloe turned stopped the two of us with a hand and took turns looking us in the eyes gravely. "Don''t let this shit get to you, you''re not those kinds of people, and that''s a dark path to go down."

    "I know... I know." Harley replied seriously. "It just feels good to be able to take control in life sometimes."

    "Good, don''t let me catch you two letting those feelings take over, I love you both too much."

    "Yes ma''am" We replied in unison.

    ��������

    The night ended wonderfully a few hours later, with the four of us in drunken stupors as we left the second bar hugging and exchanging goodbyes, and Harley and I passed out in the car as the Uber deposited us back at our apartment. The driver begrudgingly woke us, and we stumbled our ways upstairs and into bed.

 Fifteen

    7 years ago

    The car roared awake as I turned the key and jiggled the shifter to make sure it was in neutral, it was a warm April Monday morning, 6 am, and my brain was still heavily addled by sleep as I shifted into first and gingerly exited the garage. It would be a 30-minute drive to work, and I was seriously looking forward to turning my brain off and letting the roar of the engine take over my emotions. They''d been all over the place recently, to be honest.

    I was on the highway on ramp before I knew it, shifting into third, dropping the gas pedal, and letting the turbocharged engine wind towards the limiter. The feeling was nothing short of bliss, and I took a deep breath as I was slammed into the back of my seat, watching the speedometer climb towards the triple digits. I had saved for years to get this car, and I was damn well going to make every mile count.

    The thoughts, however, stuck around like a plague, I just couldn''t clear my head of the idea that something was very wrong. I was so sick of working this menial job, managing a team of pugnacious mechanics was fucking exhausting, and the energy in the shop was often downright dreadful. I was sick of getting dirty, sick of hearing lewd jokes, and sick of manual labor.

    A driver honked as I cut him off, clearly pissed off at the kid driving his sports car like it deserved to be driven, I giggled and turned the radio up, grinning ear-to-ear as the sound of Bawitdaba by Kid Rock mixed with the engine hum. I let the music of the moment build to an absolute crescendo, and downshifted again as I made to pass another driver who clearly had nowhere to be this morning.

    I think what pissed me off the most was the constant drone of my name from my coworkers mouths, something about it always sounded like gears grinding to me. It was a fine name, a normal one even, but it resounded in my bones so wrongly. I was so fucking sick of it all, too masculine, to rough, to harsh. I needed something <i>better</i>. This was not who I really was, and I was damned tired of pretending. But what could I do? Quitting would mean not making payments, maternal judgement, and a whole lot more bullshit. I was good at what I did, I just fucking hated doing it, was that reason enough to stop?

    The song climaxed, and my brain fucking <i>snapped</i> before I even knew what happened. I slammed the accelerator and started rocketing towards the next exit, I had no more room for thoughts, or doubts, just action. Damn the consequences, today I would <i>live</i>. I was off the highway before I knew it, turning the car around and accelerating back on in the opposite direction.

    Home, home, I would go home, pack my bags, and drive upstate. I would drive to my mom''s vacation home upstate and stay there until my mind was settled. Fuck this job, fuck this life, fuck it all. I needed a goddamn change. My emotions soared as I settled on the decision, and I could damn well hear a voice in my head singing its approval at my actions.

    I pushed the car at ever higher speeds down the highway, relief washing over me as the finality of my decision settled into my brain, I was back at my home before I knew it. I pulled the car into the garage, hopped out, and packed my suitcase for the journey in record time, taking only my essentials; some clothing, toiletries,  and the large locking safe box that held my collection of feminine items. Free, up there I would be free.

    The trip up to the cabin by Lake George took a few hours, and I dodged numerous calls from my boss and coworkers, completely unwilling to explain myself. My head was not in the correct state for that. I felt a bit bad about the no-show, but I committed myself to not waste mental energy on a bullshit job. I did have to call my mother, explaining that I would be staying at Tommy''s house for a few days after work to comfort him out of a mental health episode. She bought the lie with little question, Tommy and I were inseparable, and often spent weeks at each other''s places for various reasons.

    My mind went blank with serenity as I pulled into the lake house driveway and took in the sights and sounds of it all. It was a modest home, two floors, wooden exterior, and a large yard in the back. The cabin was surrounded by old conifers on all sides, affording the occupants a sense of isolation despite the fact that the neighbors'' homes were only a hundred feet away. I had spent the trip up blasting rock music and smoking weed out of a pipe that I kept in the center console, so the sudden quiet and calm had the effect of stunning me out of the chaotic mindset and into a pleasant reverie.

    I moved with a daze as I unpacked the car, thumbed in the front door code, and made my way up to my bedroom on the second floor, luggage in tow. I took in a deep breath as I set the suitcase down, stared at my bed, and allowed myself to crash into it, setting into the deep comfort of the bedding.  It was at that moment that the emotions washed over me with full force, the effort of holding them back for the past few hours had been expended, and there was nothing left to hold back the tide wave. Tears came to me hot and fast, and I just let myself cry over nothing, over everything as long as I needed to. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Why the fuck was I doing this? What on earth was I even doing? To what end? I needed a fucking plan, something to alleviate the awful sense that my life was not enough.

    It was then that I remembered the girl in the coffin. She''d been locked in there for years at this point, and rarely let out. She had no life, no joy, no real experience of the world, she was nothing but a silent companion with me throughout my life. Her hunger for life was seldom appeased, little but table scraps every few months. She was roaring in the back of my head, feeding on my emotions as I finally let them slip through the walls I''d so carefully constructed. I endeavored to let her out while I was here, sure, it wasn''t the real world, but It was the best I could safely offer her, she deserved as much.

    The shift was seamless due to the emotional nature of the moment, one second I was crying, then it was her, both for wildly different reasons. I allowed myself to rest in the coffin for a while, and let her be free. The crying slowed briefly, and she shifted in the bed, wiping away the ears, and staring at our hands for a long moment. We weren''t really separate, just two sides of the same person, one constructed, and the other factual. Yet, the lie got to live, its construction having been so labored and detailed that it had a mind and personality of its own.

    She got up, and stared in the full-body mirror next to the bed, just stared and wept at the nature of the vessel she was trapped in. It felt so very wrong to her, so foreign and wrong. The skin was rough, the stubble poking through the face despite shaving only this morning. The features were chiseled and sharp, with short flowy hair adorning them. The vessel was undoubtedly handsome, but the face was of somebody she would date, not her own. But these things could be fixed, she could sculpt this body into one that made her happy if allowed to. That thought was what settled her brain and emotions. She had some time to be free, and then we would negotiate a treaty over this vessel. I sighed at the thought, but acquiesced with little argument, the current state of things was clearly not working.

    We stood, and she dressed us as she saw fit with the limited options, borrowing a top from our mother as well. Then she adorned herself with makeup as well as she could, and walked down the stairs. The tequila burned our throat as she poured herself a generous glass and took a long slow sip. I could hear her thoughts from my coffin, they were so very quiet for once, she just hummed a song to herself and danced around the living room, glass in hand, clearly grateful for the opportunity.

    ----

    The days passed peacefully as she drank, smoked, cooked, and ate. She fed her mind, body, and soul until she was ever so content with the modicum of life she had. She played games, and spoke on the phone to our friends, assuring them that we had just taken a short vacation upstate, and would be home in a few days. She spoke to our mother as well of course, playing music behind the scenes to mimic the sounds of Tommy''s room. But she mostly just spent her days enjoying the freedom, relaxing in the hot tub, listening to music, and staring out through the windows. She imagined what her life would look like had she been allowed out unregulated. It was nothing magnificent, she just imagined going about her regular life, but in the right body. She let her mind wander to more fun things too of course, clubbing with friends, going shopping, being wanted in her new body. Our heart was ever so full of the joy her imaginings provided that it even appeased me as I laid dormant.

    Before I knew it was Saturday night, and we eventually agreed that Sunday would be our last day here, the time was well spent, and we both had enough information to make informed decisions by this point. We would spend the night negotiating, and whatever agreement we came to by morning would be final.  It was with that thought in mind that she grabbed a bottle of wine, dressed up comfortably for the night air, and made her way to the backyard. The night was pleasantly frigid after the warm day, and the sky was void of clouds. The lack of light pollution in the area allowed our eyes to quickly adjust as she gingerly stepped out into the middle of the yard, and sat upon the grass, taking a moment before laying back and starting into the heavens that ever taunted us.

    The "conversation" was silent as we laid there, little more than conflicting thoughts bouncing from opposing corners of our shared consciousness. What would her freedom look like? What would it take to give her a body she would be comfortable in? What would happen to me? Maybe we could merge and seek a stalemate in the middle? We laid there for hours and pondered a million unknowns while our head spun from the wine and cigarettes.

    We eventually decided that our family would likely accept only me, and yet she would give them a chance to know her as well. Furthermore, we resolved to give her joint control, allowing her mind and personality to shine through socially until we could give her a vessel she would be comfortable occupying. She would no longer be trapped in that coffin, we would destroy it together and cohabitate as we saw fit. I would present myself when needed, and she would get a greater stake in our life.

    The notion scared the ever living fuck out of me, I''d accepted the fact that I was little more than a necessary construct, but the thought of ceding so much control over to her was terrifying. What would she do with our body? How would she handle true freedom? What would happen to me if she was successful? My best hope in that case would be consummation, we would merge, and I would be a part of her forever more. It was a scary idea yes, but I also wanted the best for her, our shared years together told me that she was good at heart, perhaps better than I. She was brave and strong-willed, where I was hardheaded. She was loving and compassionate, where I was cold and distant. She was generous where I was selfish, but most of all, she was driven, while I was complacent. She knew what she wanted, and would burn the world down to get it. That thought settled me and pushed me to acquiesce. She had watched from the background all these years while I made a mockery of the body I was so generously built to inhabit, and that thought broke me fundamentally.

    What cruelty was it to build a personality and lock yourself away for decades behind it? What cruelty was it to know the pain it would take to free yourself in such an unforgiving world and choose the easy life, deciding to feel the pain internally instead? What cruelty was it to be forced to pick one form of suffering over another?

    She stared off into the Milky Way, those billions of stars seemed to be laughing at us as we stared at each other. They laughed at the whole of humanity, powerless to decide our destiny and stuck living such pointlessly short lives while they reigned in near immortality. She opened our mouth in a curse to their ridicule.

    "I will live, and nobody can stop me." She spoke frailly through the tears that poured out at that moment. "I will make this life worthwhile, and I will make the most of every second I get from here on out. Damn the consequences. Damn it all, I will fucking live."