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Yuu sighed as the apartment door shut with a click. He curled up on the sofa.

He stared blankly at his cell phone for a while.

The screen was black, the little device was completely dead. Yuu had taken out the battery and SIM card a few days ago, mostly because he was afraid of GPS tracking. His parents probably realized that he never came back on his scheduled flight by now, and they might have gone to the police. Whichever the case, Yuu was a fugitive. He was an illegal immigrant, and federal agents would be looking for him.

Using his old phone was absolutely out of the question.

The 22-year-old asian trembled slightly.

Truth be told, he didn't think this through very carefully.

Vesper had offered a place to stay, and Yuu had jumped on it eagerly. 

At the time, Yuu had been so happy he was basically crying. He wasn't sure what he was going to do after his visa application got denied, but then Vesper had messaged him the last minute and said he could stay with him. Yuu was already traveling to the airport, but he immediately turned around bought bus tickets to New York.

It had been an impulsive decision... 

...but getting to meet his online boyfriend was like a dream come true.

However, now that all of the adrenaline had died down, Yuu had no idea about what he was going to do.

Money? Food? Could he still use his credit cards or access his bank accounts? Honestly, Yuu had no idea what being an undocumented immigrant entailed, and it was really hard to find information on the Internet. He disconnected his phone shortly after purchasing bus tickets with cash, so it had been nearly a day since he used any form of electronics.

The 18-hour bus ride to New York City had been filled with stress and anxiety.

What if Vesper changed his mind? Or never showed up? What if he took one look at him and decided that Yuu was too different from his online avatar? Yuu's imagination was filled with horror stories of gay panic, catfishing, and two decades of casual remarks about how 'traps are gay' that were engrained in his head. Yuu had told Vesper that he was born male many years ago, but his online boyfriend had barely remarked about it.

Did this mean Vesper assumed he was transgender? Taking hormone replacement therapy (HRT)?

But Yuu was afraid he would be a disappointment in that angle too.

Yuu wasn't taking any medications or using female pronouns in real life.

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Yuu went to the bathroom to wash his face.

He stared in the mirror.

He wondered if he had... overdone it.

Did it backfire?

Vesper — Rohan — hadn't even said a single word about his appearance.

Yuu had agonized for hours about how to dress himself. It was his first time meeting his boyfriend offline, which all in itself was already an emotionally fraught wardrobe endeavor. Yuu's situation had been complicated by the fact that he wasn't sure how far he should dig into his closet. He had amassed a hefty collection of "feminine" outfits ever since coming to the United States, but he didn't want it to look like he was cosplaying or going to a anime convention.

At the same time, Yuu was terrified of the idea of his online boyfriend rejecting him.

It was genuinely a struggle.

Yuu pulled the elastic out of his hair and sighed, his medium-long black hair cascading over his shoulders.

In the end, Yuu had decided it was best to be minimalistic for a "natural" look. If he was going to be staying with Rohan for a while, it was probably for the better if he didn't start everything off with full-blown makeup and false eyelashes. Without his full cosmetic routine, Yuu knew that he didn't completely "pass", but that was one of the painful truths of being a femboy. The best pictures on social media often involved carefully positioned camera angles and instagram filters. It took an incredible amount of effort to "pass" as a girl.

Yuu was fortunate because he was short. His torso was already thin and androgynous, so his silhouette was already somewhat ambiguous from a distance. Baggy and oversized clothes were generally sufficient to hide the curves that Yuu lacked, and they constituted the bulk of "feminine" street clothes that Yuu owned.

For instance, today Yuu was wearing a large hoodie. This was paired with a skirt and leggings, which generally served to broadcast femininity to anyone who might see him on the streets. As long as someone did not look too carefully, Yuu looked unremarkable. In fact, it was a comfy outfit and very sensible thing to wear for an 18-hour bus ride.

However, Yuu's stomach spun with agonizing self-doubt.

Perhaps he had gone wrong somewhere.

Rohan hadn't said anything... so maybe it was a mistake to have gone halfway.

Maybe it was his voice. Yuu hated his voice. His masculine voice always gave him away, so ordinarily Yuu tried not to talk when he was dressed like a girl. However, Yuu felt compelled to respond when Rohan spoke to him. What if Rohan thought that Yuu's voice was mismatched and ugly? What if he wanted to get rid of Yuu because of it?

The tense knot in Yuu's stomach grew larger.

The 22-year-old asian closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

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After leaving the bathroom, Yuu pulled off his socks and climbed back onto the sofa in the living room. Earlier, Rohan had taken out a set of blankets and pillows, so it was determined that Yuu would be sleeping on the couch. Right now, this was the only place in the apartment that Yuu felt comfortable in.

It was 9:30 PM, and truthfully, Yuu was hungry. He hadn't eaten anything for dinner.

Rohan had said it was okay for him to help himself to anything in the fridge, but Yuu felt hesitant.

It didn't feel right to just take Rohan's things.

Moreover, he had forgotten to ask for the WiFi password as well, so Yuu was completely helpless with nothing to do. He didn't really want to snoop around Rohan's apartment without permission, so the black-haired youth pulled out a sketchpad from his backpack and curled up sideways around a pillow cushion.

Yuu doodled quietly, trying in vain to distract himself from his hanging anxieties.

All he could think about was what he would do if Rohan kicked him out of the apartment the next morning.

He couldn't even draw a circle straight.

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