Chapter 7 – The Decision.

While the extra sleep was good for Chris, it didn’t end up helping him much at work at all, his mind continuously wandering as he stacked stock on the shelves, and he caught himself a few too many times putting product in the wrong place. That of course didn’t count all of the ones that he likely misplaced without realising. Old Town plagued his thoughts, as did Rachael, and the clothes that he had stashed in his backpack in his room. The malestorm that he had managed to avoid last night was assaulting him in full force now, and he was not winning. He was glad when 10am rolled around, and he bolted from work as fast as he could go, barely remembering to clock out before he was out the door and down the street.

Running down the street, he managed to make it to the bus stop just in time for the 10:05am bus, the weekend timetable being a lot more spread out and less frequent than the weekday ones. Yes they had all night buses, but someone in power still thought that no one really needed buses on the weekend, and only seemed to have them rostered on out of necessity. Hence he’d usually either walk part of the way home on a Saturday, or stay later at work till the next bus came past, but he had a destination in mind for today, and he wasn’t in the mood for waiting.

An exchange at the bus hub and a number of zones later, and he was back at Agerslows, the suburb bathed in the late morning sun. He spotted a couple of middle aged runners making their way across the suburb, across though, not through, and he passed plenty of kids, either playing in their front lawns or kicking balls down the street, but no one seemed to pay him attention. He wasn’t complaining, happy to be ignored. He knew where he was going, the route a little too familiar to him now. The presence of people on the street petered out as he neared the border, even the local kids appearing to avoid the abandoned houses. He walked past the abandoned houses and empty plots, and stopped directly on the border between the districts, something telling him that he was right on the threshold, and one more step would take him into Old Town.

He stood there, soaking up the sun, just staring out across the ruins. The pile of stones he had placed was still there, calling out to him, and he was tempted to go have a look. Tempted, but he couldn’t quite justify it. There was something strange about this place, his knowledge about its reputation, and his previous experience here battling with the temptation and pull to go have look. The allure of the unknown and promise of freedom. Out there, no one would pay any attention to him, no one would look, or judge. He could be himself. He gazed down at his work uniform. But not like this. He sighed, and continue staring out across the expanse, unmoving.

“You’re out here again?”

He turned. Rachael had run up to him, a light blue hoodie and plain black tights this time, still with the red and black shoes. She didn’t look as exhausted this time.

“Yeah. It’s kinda peaceful. Just trying to clear my thoughts.”

“What are you two up to? Hurry up, we need to continue on.” Looking past Rachael, Chris spotted Millie a few plots back running in the spot, looking panicked and highly agitated. Either she was in a rush to go shopping after their morning run, or she didn’t like it out here at all like most sane people. She was dressed identically to Rachael though. No surprises there.

He smiled, privately amused. “Don’t let me keep you from her,” he teased, turning and walking away from the edge towards Rachael. “I’ll see you later back home.”

“She’ll be fine.” Rachael smiled. “Take care.” She then turned, and jogged slowly back to Millie, who was looking more and more agitated, only seeming to relax once the pair had started running again, heading back towards the centre of the suburb. Why had she come out here this time? Given Millie’s state, he didn’t think Millie would have willingly agreed. He was done here for the moment though. Stealing one last glance back, he also started heading towards the centre of the suburb, taking his time and enjoying the weather. Pity he was still wearing his work clothes though.

As he had expected, the house was empty by the time he got back. Making himself a sandwich and grabbing some fruit, he sat down at the dinning table, again strewn with pencils and paper, character sheets, notes and dice. Eating his sandwich, he picked up one of the blank character sheets and a pencil, and stared at it for a while. Having not joined in over the last few nights, he wasn’t even sure what the setting was going to be this time, nor what types of characters they were going to be using. Putting the blank sheet back down, he randomly picked up one of the completed ones. ‘Tabat the Dark Blade’, high stealth and agility. Another Rogue for Bruce. He put it down and selected another: ‘Cateline Lightfoot’. Another rogue, but she currently had 5 pages of backstory. First daughter of a noble family from a no longer existing kingdom that had been destroyed in the war between two neighbouring kingdoms. Forced on to the streets, spent a little time working in the underworld, now an agent for the Council of Equilibrium. That’d be Millie’s character. ‘Svorn Blacktail’, Catfolk assassin. Peter’s characters. All rogues or stealth types. Nothing for Rachael, but he recalled that she’d skipped the last creation session as well.

Chris tossed the pencil back onto the table. He had little interest in playing a rogue or stealthy character, and he couldn’t bring himself to create one. No inspiration came to him, especially not for a male one. He sighed. He guessed he may well be sitting the next campaign out. Perhaps he’d wait till Millie went back to being the game master, or maybe he could run one himself. He didn’t want to isolate himself from the rest of the flat by not taking part, especially as they had been gaming together for so long, but right now he just didn’t have it in him. If he forced himself to play a character he hated, or just couldn’t associate with, it may well end up being the last time he played.

He grabbed a blank piece of paper, and started scribbling down ideas of what he might do if he ran a campaign. High fantasy? Nah, they’d done that a lot. Hidden aspects of the real world? It had potential. Witches and Vampires were a bit overdone at the moment. Sci-fi? He still didn’t really have much of a taste for that. Post apocalypse? Also not his thing. Perhaps it would have to be High Fantasy, or maybe something focusing on some of the marginal races. It’d be nice to do Fairies again, but he wasn’t sure if he could do Millie’s legacy justice.

Chris sat there for a while, writing down ideas, and then scrapping many, brainstorming, and somewhat enjoying himself. He got some more fruit and another sandwich, eating while he wrote, keeping his filled pages off to one side. A forgotten goddess and the spirits of nature. A fantasy world, but not high, filled with magic but without all the additional races. No Elves, Dwarves and the like. Humans could take all those aspects easily enough, and he could have diversity within the cultures. Perhaps even a technological driven culture as well – humans were a resourceful bunch. He’d need an antagonist. A demon would suffice fine. Stereotypical, but it fitted the scenario. Corruption plaguing the lands, and the players would need to investigate what was happening and why, and work out how to deal with it. There’d be more to do than just fighting though, the aspects of the characters domains would need to be tended to, looked after and repaired. A lot of that could probably happen off table though. Relationships between the characters and the NPC’s would be important as well – he’d need a cast of characters. Some there to interact with, as background, some to form bonds with the characters.

His reverie was broken by the return of Paul and Damian from their movie, a couple of paper bags and a box of beers in hand, accompanied as well by some of the friends that they had gone to the movie with. A smartly dressed well rounded guy, a well tattooed goth girl (who actually looked quite striking, and would have made a good witch if not for the body art), a blonde in a pin-skirt, sharp blouse and heels (chewing gum of all things), and another blonde with glasses dressed in what Chris would have described as casual-business. He gathered up the paper with all of his notes and got up.

“Putting together a character?” Paul asked, as he sat down at the table, Damian making himself at home on the sofa with the two blondes.

“Just doing some brainstorming,” Chris replied, and then hurried up to his room.

He could do without them seeing what he had penned. Stashing the papers carefully on his desk, he decided it was finally time to have a shower. There was no good reason for the visitors to come to the upper level of the house, as there was a toilet downstairs as well, and Paul’s room was also downstairs, so he wasn’t too worried about being disturbed, but there was no reason to be complacent. Chris was happy to see that Rachael had put the new bottle in the shower alongside the old one, so Chris just automatically reached for the bottle he had been using, trying not to use too much, least he give himself away. He still probably used too much anyways.

The sound of tipsy chatter and pointless gossip wafted up when Chris had finished getting dressed. Heading downstairs he found that both Peter and Bruce had returned, Peter chatting happily to the goth girl (her name was Leene he learnt), and Bruce looking a bit sour. Chris guessed that either his interview hadn’t gone well, or more likely something had upset him at the family engagement. Definitely not feeling like socializing with strangers, he grabbed some more fruit, collected his phone, wallet and key, and headed out.

Unsurprised, he found himself back at the border of Old Town. He’d been meandering, and not paying too much attention to where he was going, and now he was here, as if the place had this pull on him. Which it probably did. But he had decided, on his walk here. He wasn’t working tonight, so first thing tomorrow morning, he would make his way down here, and explore. His first stop would be his pile of stones, which he could still see, and then after that he might wander around a bit more. He’d take some food and water with him too, but he’d probably leave some stuff by the pile of stones so that he wasn’t lugging around too much. The decision had finally been made, and like earlier in the week, he was actually feeling a little excited about the prospect. But for now, back home again.

The walk had been substantial, so it was dark by the time he got back, and he could hear the sounds of his flatmates from out on the street. Making his way inside he could see that everyone was gathered in the lounge, the wine and beer mostly consumed. Millie was with them now, chatting away happily and wearing a nice new dress that she must have brought earlier in the afternon, that looked really good on her figure, and while the guy and one of the blondes, the one with the glasses, had gone, the goth girl and the blonde in the heels was there. Peter still seemed to be happily chatting to the goth girl, can in hand, while Millie currently had the blondes attention, with Damian looking a little irritated. Paul appeared to be attempting some cooking in the kitchen, and Bruce was no longer there. Rachael neither.

Briefly acknowledging their presence, Chris made his way past, and up to his room. Closing his door, he put his key and phone on the desk, suddenly registering that someone was sitting on his bed.

“Welcome back.” Rachael sat there with her knees pulled up to her, looking a little out of sorts. She was wearing a short skirt, so Chris tried not to stare as moved to the bed to sit beside her. She was also wearing the red ribbed top from the other day as well. He had no idea why she was here, or how she got into his locked room, but he wasn’t going to turn her away. Something about her top caught his attention.

“Oh my god, you’re bleeding!” Chris exclaimed as he finally registered the large tear in the upper sleeve, the patch glistening a deeper red than the fabric. “What happened. How did the others not notice.” He jumped off the bed, and fished out the small first aid kit that he had in the draw.

“It’s nothing serious,” Rachael said, though she didn’t look like she believed herself either.

“Can I have a look?” Chris asked, as he opened up the kit, then pulling out a clean cloth from another draw and dampening it from his drink bottle.

Rachael looked like she was about to refuse when she then nodded, and took off the top carefully. She was just wearing a bra underneath that exemplified her chest, and the emerald necklace. Chris went bright red.

“Sorry!” He quickly turned, and grabbed a clean t-shirt, passing it to her, without looking. Rachael chuckled, and put it on. It fit well enough, though it was tight around the chest, making Chris go red even more.

Trying to compose himself, he sat beside her again, and took her arm, wiping the blood off. For all the blood he cleaned off her, of which there was a lot, the size of tear on the top, and the blood that had soaked into the fabric, he was surprised to find that she just had a shallow graze running up most of her upper arm.

“It really is nothing serious. Strange,” he commented as he put the cloth to the side, and then sterilized the graze just to be safe. Rachael grimaced at the sting.

“I’m not sure what happened. I just suddenly discovered that I had it earlier.” She paused, looking thoughtful. “Something is off Chris. Can’t you feel it?”

Chris looked at her confused. To be honest though, he’d been rather caught up in his own drama, which was its own form of offness as well.

“Is it something in the air? Paul never brings guests home, not strangers like that, and both Paul and Damian have been acting a little different than usual.”

Chris could make out some drunken singing from below, with some unpleasant slurs following. She was right on that account. He nodded in agreement.

Rachael wrapped her arms around her legs. “Can I stay here tonight, please?” Chris looked up at her in surprise. He couldn’t say no to eyes like that.

“What about Peter?” he asked.

“You know that’s a lie.”

True. He was well aware of that, even if none of the others could tell.

“Sure. I’ll grab one of my spare blankets and sleep on the floor. You can have the bed.”

Rachael looked relieved. “Thanks.” She then proceeded to flop over, pulling one the blankets over herself.

Packing away the first aid kit, Chris locked the door (making sure it definitely was locked this time), pulled out one of the spare blankets from under the bed, and sat in the chair, looking at Rachael. She was looking a lot less spoked now.

“Why did you decide to give it a go?” She eventually asked after they had been silent for a little bit.

Ah yes, right. He had said he talk to her, and he owed her. She was his friend too, and might be good to actually talk to someone about it. He sat for a little bit, mulling over the right words.

“There’s been a desire..., a thought, a need... and want to know.,” he eventually said, slowly. “It’s been gnawing away at me for a long while now... A very long time I’d guess... A part of me that needed attention.” He blushed, then paused for a bit, collecting thoughts.”

“You know, I’ve been a little jealous of you and Millie at times, of how you look and what you can wear. Of how beautiful you can be. I couldn’t care less about male fashion, but what I’ve seen you in... that’s an entirely different book.”

“Don’t get me wrong. I like girls... in that way... and how you all look, and smell, and so on... but, sometimes... maybe more than sometimes... I want to be like that too...”

“If that makes any sense at all.” Chris paused again.

“Is it wrong? To want that?” He had no idea how Rachael was going to take any of that, and it was taking all of his courage to even be able to make the jumbled sentences.

Rachael smiled softly. “It’s not wrong to want to be yourself. You looked cute Chris. I’m sorry for causing you so much anguish. I didn’t have any ill intentions.”

“Quite the opposite,” she then mumbled, blushing a little herself.

“How did it feel?” she then quickly asked.

“You saw,” Chris replied, mumbling himself.

“Before the tears... you looked like you were so happy,” Rachael replied, comfort in her voice.

Chris couldn’t help by smile, just a little. “It felt great. So right, so me... and yet so wrong as well. I was, and still am fearful of the shame of anyone seeing me like that – that is why I had planned to do it while no one was here. I’m not a girl after all.” He then sighed. “You must think less of me now, like I’m some kind of deviant...”

“No, not at all. If anything I’m proud of you Chris. And grateful.”

Chris wasn’t entirely sure why she was grateful, but it felt good to talk to someone about it, especially to Rachael.

“RACHAEL!” A shout echoed through the house, followed by some unintelligible conversation, breaking the silence in the room that had followed. Chris looked up at her, Rachael’s face looking concerned.

“Why today of all days,” Rachael quietly questioned of herself.

Someone raced up the stairs, Peter perhaps, and banged on her door, calling her name. Yup, definitely was Peter. Getting no response, it sounded like he opened the door, it the sound of it closing shortly after. She was of course not in her room. Peter then proceeded to knock on his door. Rachael quickly shook her head.

“What is it, I’m trying to sleep,” Chris stated trying to sound sleepy, hopefully loudly enough to be heard.

“I haven’t seen Rachael this evening. Do you have any idea where she might be?”

“No,” Chris grumbled. “I thought she’d be with you?”

“Okay. Sorry Chris.” Peter then headed back down. “I wonder if she’s got her phone on her?” he commented to himself, Rachael promptly sitting up, fishing around the bed for her phone, and fiddling with it before lying back down. That was close. The chatter and occasional laughter from downstairs resumed.

“Thanks,” Rachael said quietly, Chris smiling in return.

“I guess we should give it some truth,” Chris said, getting up and reaching for the light switch.

“Just let me take my skirt off first,” Rachael quickly said, Chris going red as heard her sit up and move around behind him. He kept his eyes glued on the wall.

“Done.”

Looking back around, Rachael had tucked herself properly into his bed, and was looking quite comfortable and cosy. He flicked off the lights, and shedding some clothes, wrapped himself up in the blanket on the floor. At least this house had nice thick carpets.

“Night.”

“Night.”

...

“Do you want to be a girl?” Rachael’s question brought his senses back to the present, from trying to ignore that Rachael was currently trying to sleep in his room, or not at this current point in time it appeared.

Chris couldn’t answer. Did he? Was that what this was all really about? Did he actually want to be female rather than male? Not just dress like one, but actually be one. He sighed quietly. Not that it was really possible. Magic like that didn’t exist. But it was nice to dream.

“I caught a glimpse of you as one...” Rachael mumbled. “Long hair, stunning figure. Alluring. Perfect. You.”

Chris really didn’t have an answer for that.

“You smell nice...” Rachael mumbled again, before going silent, her breathing soft and regular. She’d fallen asleep.

Chris fished around on the floor for a pile of clothes, and stuffing them under his head as a pillow, attempted to do the same, dreams eventually taking him too. Dreams of impossibilities. Dreams of being a girl.