I wake up to the telltale sounds of someone making coffee and cooking. I smile to myself and think "I really have a loving partner." Before closing my eyes again.
Wait a minute, I am single. I live alone.
Who the fuck is in my apartment?
I open my eyes fully and snap into a seated position just as the door to my bedroom opens. In the doorway appears a mostly human girl, the only features that belie her as non-human being the whiskers. Her hair is black, her body short and very petite, her eyes tired.
It's Laura.
"Morning, sleepyhead," she says. "You told me to come over early this morning, you were still asleep so I let myself in." She shoves a cup of coffee into my hands.
"Drink, then get up and we can talk about what is bothering you over breakfast."
She turns around as I start to drink the coffee and leaves.
"And put on some fucking pants. I don't mind seeing dicks but I don't want yours to be the first one today." She said loudly through my door.
Shit.
I get up and reluctantly put on an oversized but very comfy hoodie and a pair of leggings. I exit my room and head towards the living room, coffee cup still in hand.
Laura is sitting on the couch in the living room, a plate with scrambled eggs, bacon and toasted bread in front of her. Another plate is set out for me next to her, and not much further sits my coffee maker’s carafe, filled with fresh and steaming coffee.
I sit down and smear butter onto the toast before piling some of the scrambled eggs and bacon on top of it.
I'm not really hungry, I just have to eat lest I want Laura to force-feed me like she force-feeds our friends vodka and tequila when we get drunk together.
I take a small bite and my reptile brain responds with neuron activation and I feel hunger kick in and before I know it my plate is emptied and Laura stares at me with an expression somewhere between concerned, horrified and amused.
She snaps out of her stare and jokingly asks: "Do you want more or do you want to eat someone like that? I'm pretty sure some people would pay to be devoured by a feral beast like you, big boy."
I cringe at her calling me a boy, both because of my gender related confusion, and because she never calls anyone a 'big boy'.
I quickly snap out of it and weakly joke back "Yeah, you would but I won't give you a discount." She pouts at that for a short moment before laughing "As if I'd pay you! You're barely a man!"
I look at her like a deer looking at a car that's about to run it over at 4am on a cold Tuesday morning in winter. Again I snap out of it and weakly retort "That makes it better…" …And worse.
She looks at me with a weird expression, some mixture of "Wait a minute…", "What the actual fuck" and "No way in hell" move across her face in upredictable ways and cycles, I can barely keep eye contact with her and fidget with my half empty cup of coffee while staring deep into the milky brown liquid.
She mumbles something to herself that I don't really hear, before sitting down closer to me and patting my back.
"Man, that femboy stuff really fucked you up, didn't it." She says and I nod in response.
"You're questioning whether or not you are one, aren't you?" I nod again.
"And you're also questioning if you're even a boy, right?" I hesitate, she's right but I'm scared to reveal that part of myself, hell I haven't even really thought about it, it was buried until sometime yesterday. However she is my best friend, and she is trans, so she should at least be willing to try to understand, even if she doesn't.
I nod again.
I feel her hands pull away.
I feel her get up.
She stands in front of me.
She sharply grabs my hair and yanks it back so I am forced to look up at her.
Something has changed in her eyes, they're not tired anymore, but cold and unfeeling.
"There's no way in hell you're a girl." She hisses out.
She reaches into her pocket and grabs the keys to my apartment, the ones I entrusted her with in case something happened, and tosses them onto the coffee table before leaving.
I am frozen in place, but worse, I'm hurt.
Immensely hurt.
I put down the coffee and curl up on the couch, unable to really comprehend what just happened.
Why did she react that way?
I can only guess, but what I know is that she went through a lot, abuse, war, police work, and that by now, she is unable to do much because of her mental and physical health issues.
She mentioned she had DID, but was that someone else?
I honestly don't want to know.
I uncurl and finish my, by now incredibly cold, coffee before getting up and getting dressed in nicer clothes, a less ratty looking, but still oversized, dark sweater and some shorts.
I get out of my apartment with only the most important things, my phone, keys, headphones and my wallet. I quickly walk to the train station and just let the first train take me somewhere.
I sit on the train, my headphones blaring loud music to drown out the talking of others, and think about everything, and yet nothing.
Suddenly I feel the urge to get off the train, it must have been the second to last stop on it's journey because there's no one here and the sun is setting by now.
I don't really know where I am, as is fitting with not knowing who I am. I look around the train station and see a poster for an LGBT-friendly bar close by, within walking distance even.
I quietly make my way to it, dodging the few people who are still out and about.
I find the entrance and it looks small but very cozy, there's a broken neon sign that says "O__n" instead of "Open" and a few of the more common pride flags lining the doorframe, with the door itself being hidden behind the bouncer, a big wolfperson.
I walk up to them, they look me up and down, before growling "ID."
I hand it to them, they hand it back. "No silly business, no fucking on the carpet." They growl as they step aside and open the door for me to enter.
