Romeo woke up the next morning with a hangover. At least the light wasn’t too… oh. Turning slightly revealed it was still dark out.

Delightful.

Romeo turned to stare at the ceiling, annoyed to still be half on Eastern European time.

Slowly waking up further offered another revelation Romeo wasn’t thrilled about: there was someone else in the bed.

A quick glance over revealed it was Rachel. Which brought a flood of memories back of the night before. How the alcohol had hit stronger than expected due to his new smaller stature. Which had led to him spilling the beans on desperation he’d felt to prove his masculinity to himself. So, with Rachel being straight he’d… well, he’d said it wasn’t anything deep. Apparently she’d been drunk enough to agree, and… well, both of them were naked right now. 

Romeo vaguely remembered it having gone well, even if it had been a colossal mistake. 

Right now, though, Romeo stumbled to the bathroom, hoping a splash of cold water might help with waking up. It seemed to, at least a little, but it also brought a new bit of confusion. The face in the mirror didn’t seem half as alien as it had yesterday. Nor did the… well, chest. 

Was Romeo just too tired for gender right now? Or had the drunken mistake last night actually done its job in reassuring Romeo on matters of gender?

It was much too early in the morning to figure out either way. But Romeo silently reminded himself he was a guy. As distant and abstract as the concept felt today.

There was one thing that was clear, though. Romeo had to head out. He had to prove that promise from last night had been that there wasn’t anything deeper than a proof of masculinity to sleeping with Rachel. Nothing emotional.

Romeo also knew exactly where to go.

There was just the slight matter of not wanting to get there any time soon.

Still not quite awake, Romeo tried to move silently through the bedroom before slipping into the walk in closet. The door shut, he flipped the light on and hunted for some clothing that would clash a little with his earlier reminder to himself. As well as the needs of last night.

Skinny jeans seemed fairly androgynous. The underwear and socks… well, no one would see those so it didn’t matter what he picked. 

For the shirt he grabbed the one with a plunging v-neck that he’d bought to show off well toned pecs. The neckline would leave little question about his current figure, and hopefully throw people off. Even if it wasn’t giving him the most flattering boob situation. 

A little more digging led him to his face masks. Sure, the world was back to normal these days (if you ignored what happened out east with the aliens, and the fact that apparently Greek Gods existed), but he could feign a cold and no one would raise too much of an eyebrow about him wearing a mask on the train.

It wasn’t needed for reading as female, so much as going incognito.

He turned the light off before opening the door, glad to see Rachel still asleep. 

Romeo grabbed his wallet and slipped out the front door. The elevator ride was quick and quiet, most of the building still asleep. 

Stepping out onto the street, he was hit with the chill of early morning. Apparently he hadn’t lucked out, and it was one of those nights that had actually gotten cool, even with the heat-island-thing of the city.

He wished the underground tunnel network was open at this hour of the morning, but, nope. It ran through private buildings that all opened at different times. So he had to move above ground. In the cold.

Slipping through the all but empty city streets, he found himself fishing his wallet out for a few homeless folks, handing out bills when he was waiting for lights to change.

When he arrived at Union he found the area around it already plenty alive. People worked all sorts of hours, and, even if Toronto was the biggest city around, there were still those who worked in the surrounding cities and wanted to take the train out.

He didn’t understand those people, with housing costs in downtown Toronto, but he knew they existed. 

Romeo made his way through the ever changing station, trying to find his way to the regional trains. A route that worked the last time he was here led him to the new bus bay instead, and forced him to turn around… the station really needed better signage.

Finally, though, he was on the platform for the train to London, with plans to get off in Berlin. To go home home.

Once the train rolled out of the suburbs and into the surrounding countryside, Romeo was left seeing his reflection in the window, with the outside still so much darker than inside the train. Which brought forward an inarguable fact: the outfit really wasn’t flattering.

Hermaphroditus had told the truth about the curse not offering much in the way of hips. And the shirt just… yes, it showed he had boobs, but with how thin it was and how cold the train was… no wonder so many businessmen had made sure to get a second look at him.

Unable to ignore how poorly dressed the girl in his reflection was, Romeo decided to get out at the next stop. Georgeville or Orangetown or… whatever it was. He’d driven through before, and remembered it had a fairly nice little downtown. There had to be a clothing store or two. 

Stepping out of the train, the station was simple enough and easy to exit. It was basically just a platform beside a bus loop after all. 

Then it was a short walk over to the downtown where he… realised it was barely 7am. None of the shops were open yet. Letting out a tired sigh, he walked down the main street until he hit a Ronny’s. At least that was open and he knew what he could find there.

Slipping in, he ordered a coffee and a doughnut, sitting down to browse the new phone one of the gophers had gotten for him. There was a text from Rachel, asking where he was. 

‘I have something to do today. Thanks and sorry for last night,’ he typed back. ‘I owe you one.’

He received a few more texts from her asking for details, but he didn’t really want to get into them. He just finished his coffee before heading out for a jog. He’d been slacking the past few days, and was pretty sure he’d need to work harder to maintain his muscle mass with estrogen in his system. He remembered how thrilled Logan had been about testosterone boosting his muscles after all.

Even if Logan had always kept on the thin side.

Unfortunately jogging proved rather less pleasant than Romeo had hoped, with the current weights on his chest… he very much regretted leaving the sports bras at the studio now. 

A bit of wandering around the town listening to music wasted enough time for Giggle Maps to tell him the mall on the edge of town was about to open. A mall that had a bra store in it. 

It was a bit of a walk, but he had time to waste, so didn’t mind.

Arriving at the store, he decided to stroll in with confidence. He’d long ago learned that acting like you knew what you were doing generally kept people from questioning you. Which… sometimes wasn’t the best and left the chance to make a fool of yourself, but he felt there was only so much that could go wrong right now. 

He also did honestly know a thing or two about bras, having unclasped a lot of them in his lifetime. So, he grabbed a bra that looked about what he thought his size was and asked to try it on. The two attendants looked mildly concerned about his current clear lack of undergarment, and so were happy to hurry him to the changerooms.

Putting it on, he… wasn’t sure if it was the right size or not. Like, it was snug, but… were bras supposed to be this snug, or not? 

Ehh, he’d figure it out another time. He just needed an outfit for today. 

He bought the bra, the attendants more than happy to cut the tags off so he could wear it immediately. He was sure they were whispering behind him as he left, heading back to the mainstreet stretch that qualified as ‘downtown’ in a small town like this. 

The smaller boutiques were now open. It was nice to support independent businesses, though the main thing on his mind was the fact that second hand stores were more likely to have older staff. Which meant Romeo was less likely to be recognised.

Even if that was less of a risk right now, the habit was ingrained in his thought patterns. 

Browsing the second hand store that caught his eye, he poked through various outfits that seemed to fit the styles of women a good thirty to forty years older than he was. 

If he knew more about sewing he could probably have modified some of them into something fun, but, well, he didn’t. So he kept looking. 

And then he spotted it. A cute white sundress with a sunflower pattern on it. The skirt had a bit of poof to it and a high waist that looked like they would cover for his lack of hips. It was much too wholesome (and feminine, obviously) to be something in his usual wardrobe, but, well, the whole point of presenting femme was to throw off any fans or paparazzi who might be lurking about, so why not go outside his comfort zone? Lean into the idea of this being a disguise.

Romeo asked a staff member to be let into a change room. Nervous, now worried that leaning into something as truly femme as a dress might set off the discomfort from yesterday, Romeo stripped and then slid the dress on.

Turning to the mirror and looking at the reflection… she was cute. She was… a girl.

The girl in the mirror. 

Not Romeo, of course. Because, well, if Romeo was a girl then how did you explain yesterday? Or the fact that thinking about himself as ‘she’ felt a bit odd still.

Sure, thinking of himself as ‘he’ was also feeling odd today. It had felt odd plenty of times throughout Romeo’s life. But, he was a he. If he’d been a she he’d have figured that out by now. Between Logan and Frankie he had exposure to folks who thought about gender plenty. 

So why was the ability to pass as a woman making Romeo so giddy right now?

It wasn’t really wanting to be a woman so much as… wanting to not be a man right now?

Romeo nodded to the girl in the mirror. That made sense. That was the feeling. A desire—a need to rebel against and escape assigned gender. Romeo had squirmed under gendered expectations before, but had thought it was just an issue with toxic masculinity. Not… full gender… stuff.

This was going to need a proper conversation with Logan at some point, but, for right now, Romeo had to pay for the dress and grab another train to Berlin. 

Having taken a train to Berlin and then a tram nearly to the border with Cambridge, Romeo hovered on the sidewalk outside the modest two story building where they’d grown up. The Il Gato Franco-Italian Bakery. Their mother’s company, the name a cheesy pun about the Italian word for cat and the French word for cake. 

They slipped around the back, to the employee entrance. It was always unlocked at this time of day, ready for various deliveries of ingredients arriving and deliveries of products leaving. Stepping in, they took a moment to breathe in the smell of it all. The smell of home. 

“Excuse me, signorina, but this area is employees only,” a deep, but gentle, male voice said.

Romeo turned, not recognising the accented voice, and was greeted by the sight of a man who seemed the definition of beefy. His build was clearly that of someone who worked out at the gym more than on a job, but he still had enough body fat on him to offer a softness to his form. A softness reinforced by kind, though lonely, eyes. 

“Ah, I’m—my ah—aunt is the owner?” Romeo offered, both unsteady from being put on the spot and from the flush heating their cheeks as they maintained eye contact with this total hunk of a baker.

“Oh! Sì, sì. I can see the family resemblance. Very sorry. Signora Valenti did not tell me to expect anyone,” the man said. “I will go get her… what was your name, signorina?”

“Oh, it’s Ro—R-Rosalind,” Romeo offered, blanking on any other options after having started with ‘Ro’. “Rosalind Valenti.”

The man nodded, turning to leave, before stopping and turning back to her. “Is it rude to get your name without giving mine? I am Mario Gallo.”

“Uh… I didn’t think it was rude, but… I suppose it’s useful to know your name, Mr. Gallo,” Romeo replied.

The pair exchanged awkward smiles, before Mario remembered what he was supposed to be doing and hurried off again.

Combining his apparent confusion and his sad eyes, the man kind of reminded Romeo of a lost puppy. Which was awakening feelings in the gender confused popstar. Feelings they hadn’t processed much before. That felt like a… feminine attraction to a man?

Was that right?

“I think there might be some sort of a mistake, miss, I don’t—” their mother started, interrupting Romeo’s confusion.

Romeo looked up from their thoughts and at their mother. Erica Valenti was middle aged, and going ever more grey with each passing year, but she looked, if anything, better at 50 than she had in her youth. Some people ‘aged well’ by barely aging, but she aged well by growing ever more refined looking. 

She also clearly recognised her child, despite the recent changes caused by the curse.

“Can we talk upstairs?” Romeo asked.

Their mother nodded, stammering a half formed reply before gesturing to the door, and managing to say ‘it’s unlocked’.