"Aah..." I moan, hissing with pain as sensation returns to my body- the primary sensation being pain. Pain in my mouth, under my arm, my head, my stomach... But the worst pain is in my groin.

"Stuart?" A familiar female voice calls. "Stuart? Can you hear me?"

"...Mum?" I ask, opening my eyes and staring into the face of the woman who gave birth to me twenty-five and a half years ago.

"Welcome back, son," mum says.

"Did- did-" I hoarsely whisper.

"Shh," mum urges. "Try not to talk too much. But yes, yes, the surgery was a success." I breathe a sigh of relief as I lay my head back on my pillow and try to clear my head. Sure, my groin is buried under a mountain of pain right now, but underneath all the pain and discomfort is that which I've waited nearly a decade for- my penis.

My wang. My knob. My dick. My ding-a-ling. My chap. My lad. My thingy. My cock. I am now an anatomically correct- well mostly anatomically correct- man. I'm far from 'done'- my urethra isn't connected yet (I'll have to have another operation about six months from now to sort that out), and if I want to be able to achieve an erection, I'll need a further operation after that to implant a- well, an implant, either a flexible rod or a pump, to help me out there. But all that can wait for later. As of right now, I am at the beginning of the end of my journey. I have a six-inch tube of flesh hanging down between my legs- or at least, it would be if I wasn't laid in a hospital bed with my feet in the air- and as far as I'm concerned, my life is complete.

...Especially as my surgery, as big a deal as it is, isn't the most exciting thing to have happened to me over the past seven days. Last week, I got a call explaining that due to a cancellation, my SRS could be brought forward to Monday just gone, September 21st. I accepted without hesitation, though it was only as I put the phone down that I stopped to consider the effect that this would have on the people I loved- more specifically, the woman I loved.

Two days before my surgery- on September 19th- was Jamie's 24th birthday. Last year, even though I didn't know it at the time, Jamie's birthday proved to be part of the crappiest week of my life after she fell into bed with my (now former) best friend. This year, it was the turn of Jamie and her friends to bear the brunt of the bad luck. Her friend Mary's aunt suddenly died, her friend (and my ex) Krystie ended up on hospital, Charlotte's son (and our godson) fell ill for most of the week with an infection... And then I go and thoughtlessly put myself in hospital as well. Even though most of her friends were missing, I and Jamie's parents were determined to give her the best birthday she could remember... And there was only one way I knew to do that.

"Okay," Jamie whispered to me after blowing out the candles on her birthday cake. "Maybe this has been one of my best birthdays!"

"Glad to hear it," I said with a smile, before taking a deep breath. All throughout Jamie's party, there was only one thing I wanted to ask her, something I'd wanted to ask her for a very long time. Two later I was going to literally 'grow a pair'- sort of- and this was the perfect opportunity to figuratively grow a pair.

"Stu?" Jamie asked as I gently clasped my hands around hers.

"Jamie," I shakily said, reciting the speech I'd said over a hundred times in my head. "Ever since you came into my life two years ago, every day has been better than the last. I look forward to waking up with you each morning as much as I look forward to going to be with you every night." I grimace as I hear a low snigger from one of my male friends in the crowd- that part of the speech wasn't quite as romantic as I'd hoped...

"Stu," Jamie whispers in a low, stunned voice- clearly she knows what's coming. I pause briefly, giving Jamie the opportunity to 'put me out of my misery' now, but when she remains silent, I take it as my cue to continue, my confidence growing with every word.

"I don't want this to ever end," I say as very unmanly tears form in the corners of my eyes. "You are my best friend, you're my lover, and you're my soul mate. I've never been more convinced that this is truly the case. Jamie-Lee Burke-"

"Oh my god!" Jamie gasps as I slowly drop to one knee and pull out the ring box that's been in my pocket ever since dad gave it to me so many months ago.

"-Will you marry me?" I ask, my heart fluttering as time seems to stop, the crowd looking on with the mouths agape.

"Oh my god!" Jamie wails, tears freely flowing from her beautiful turquoise eyes. "Yes! Yes I will marry you!" Tears trickle down my cheeks as I let out a sharp, happy laugh, before I stand up and give Jamie a long, tender kiss. The entire crowd cheers as Jamie holds up her left hand for me to slide the ring onto- the same ring that makes me smile as I see it open the door to my hospital room several days later.

"Hey, fiancée!" Jamie says, giving me a soft kiss on my still-pounding forehead. "Feeling any better?"

"A lot better now you're here," I say, making Jamie giggle coyly. "But still in a lot of pain..."

"Can- can I see, umm, 'it'?" Jamie asks. "I'd really like to know what I'm going to spend the rest of my life, umm, well... You know..."

"I haven't even seen it yet," I giggle. "But when I get out, then yes, you can. WE can. We will, together."

"How long will that be?" Jamie asks. "You've been in here six days already..."

"You were in hospital for longer," I remind my fiancée. "Just a few more days. Though I'm going to be cathetered for longer... Need a second surgery for my urethra to 'join up' and that won't be until early next year..."

"So you're still going to be sitting down to pee?" Jamie asks.

"Yeah, but not for long!" I say, making Jamie giggle. "I know, it's such a small thing, but I've been waiting, my whole life for it. Here I am without a single Y chromosome in my body, but I now have a penis dangling off the front of it. Guess I don't need to tell you how much of a dream come true this is..."

"Indeed you don't," Jamie says, kissing me again on the forehead. "Get some rest, sexy. The sooner you recover, the sooner we can put that new part of yours to work!" I giggle as Jamie starts reading 'get well' tweets she's been asked to pass on from her fans on Facebook and twitter, but in truth I'd be happy even if Jamie came in here and started reading the phone book to me. Her mere presence is more than enough to make me start to feel better, and sure enough, I leave the hospital a few days later with a smile on my face- even though my body is confined to a wheelchair. As I arrive home, however, my smile turns into tears of joy as I see all my friends waiting for me on the driveway to my parents' home, a huge banner stretching across the front of the house the reads 'welcome home, big man!'.

"Oh my god oh my god!" Becca squeaks, coming over and giving me a thankfully gentle hug. "I can't believe you finally did it! What does it feel like? Does it still hurt?"

"Becca!" Mum snaps, silencing my increasingly-famous younger sister. "Welcome home, Stuart! We've set up a bed for you in the den so you won't have to go upstairs. We've got everything you'll need- your laptop, your keyboard, your PlayStation all set up, so you can just take your time and recover at your own pace."

"Thanks, mum," I say with a smile. "Thank you all for coming! It's been a hard few days-"

"Wahey!" Dan laughs, making me roll my eyes.

"It's been a DIFFICULT few days," I say, making everyone (especially Dan) laugh. "But I'm feeling a lot better, I'll be back on my feet soon, and I'll soon be back to the old Stuart you know and love."

"Boo," Becca jokingly calls.

"You- shut up," I say, making my little sister laugh. "But seriously, thank you all, it means a lot to me that you're all here today. And no, you can't see it." I smile as the crowd laughs, before Mikey grabs the back of my wheelchair and pushes me into the house where I'm gingerly lowered onto the sofa.

"Did I miss much whilst I was in hospital?" I ask.

"Not really," Jamie says as she sits down next to me. "Nikki and her friends had a party as they started uni this Monday just gone, that's all."

"Which raises an important question," Becca says with a smirk on her face. "When are you going to celebrate getting that ring onto Jamie's finger?"

"All in good time," I chuckle. "Right now, all I want to do is rest..."

"Could you stand to listen to an hour of your sister and four other girls singing?" Mikey asks, waving a recordable CD in my face.

"I've spent sixty hours a week doing that for the last month," I say, making everyone laugh. "...But it would be a good way to start to get back to normal, I guess!" Mikey and Becca both giggle as they pop the CD into my stereo, and immediately the songs begin to evoke a feeling of 'home' in my tired, aching body. Even though I know every note of the songs forward and backward- and even though it's not my preferred type of music- I enjoy every last second of the album. In fact, I enjoy every last second of my day- surrounded by my sister, my oldest friend and the woman I love more than anything. Emma and Lee drop by later in the evening, bringing along my nephew for me to briefly play with, and Mikey and Jamie stick around until late into the evening- Jamie even offering to skip her traditional 'girls night out' to stay in with me. I, however, want things to get back to normal as fast as possible, which includes not spending Friday nights with my fiancée!

I spend the vast majority of the next two weeks either on the sofa or heading back and forth to the hospital for various appointments, only occasionally heading out for special events such as a meal to celebrate the engagement of two more of our friends- but even then, I'm still confined to my wheelchair.

However, slowly but surely, my wounds heal- the stitches from my graft site are the first to be removed, leaving behind an ugly snake-like scar trailing from my armpit around my back. My blood drain and catheter are removed, and finally, the stitches around the base of my new penis are removed, allowing me to 'hang free' for the first-ever time in my life- and 'free' is exactly how I feel.

All throughout the recovery period, I am constantly reminded of just how many people I have in my life, how much I love them and how much they love me. Jamie is almost constantly by my side, as is Becca, to the point where they're almost in competition to see who can care for me the most. Emma and Lee make a point of dropping by and showing off their increasingly-handsome son, whilst Mikey drops by most days for as much of a jam session as I can manage with all the painkillers- not to mention pain itself- flowing through my body. The rest of the lads also drop by whenever they can- most nights at least four from myself, Mikey, Dan, Paul Kennedy, Jonathan and Riley while away the hours in seemingly endless videogame sessions. I'm even visited by the other girls- Krystie often tags along with her boyfriend Mikey, whilst Dan will sometimes bring Mary around, along with their daughter (and my goddaughter), who at 15 months is already turning into a beautiful young woman, even if she does seem to like calling me 'googurt'! Charlotte (Jamie's best friend) also drops round with her son (also my godson), however one person is conspicuous by his absence from my 'recovery room'- and that's the child's father, and my former best friend. I send him the occasional text message, and the occasional message passed on through Dan or one of the other guys, but I never hear anything back- even though Keith was the first person I'd told about booking in for the phalloplasty eighteen months earlier.

Nonetheless, I have a smile on my face every morning I wake up to begin another day of relaxing and recovering. Slowly, my penis starts to recover and begins to gain sensation along its length. I gradually move away from my careful washing routine and back to my normal daily routine of showers, and ultimately move my 'recovery room' back into my bedroom on the upper floor or our large house.

My walk stops being a lop-sided limp and becomes more confident as I relearn to get around unaided, and I entertain my mother and my sisters every time I sit down as my new genitals force me to 'man spread', despite the discomfort that causes to my still-feminine hips.

Finally, on November 17th, eight weeks after my surgery, I return to the music studio that has been like a second home to me for almost a year. In my absence, the album I'd worked on has been released, sold over fifty thousand copies (with even greater sales expected in the run up to Christmas) and peaked at fifth in the official UK album charts. Whilst this is cause for celebration, the management see it as cause to get another album started as soon as possible, even despite the band going on a UK tour early next year. Fortunately, my time off my feet has given me ample opportunity to write new songs for the band, which we spend most of the day recording.

By the time 4pm rolls around, however, the day's efforts have left me utterly exhausted, and when Jamie enters the studio gently caresses my shoulder, the only reaction I can manage is a tired, appreciative moan.

"Oh, stop being a big baby," Jamie giggles. "Don't forget, we're going out for dinner tonight with our parentses..."

"Yes, yes, I know," I laugh. "And yes, I also know you know exactly what I'm going through... Well, kind of, anyway." I smile as Jamie continues to gently massage my sore shoulders as I remember the days after Jamie's own SRS- which were also the days when she I first became lovers. For weeks, I'd be at her beck and call, assisting with minor things like helping her downstairs or running to the supermarket for her- all of which I did willingly. Now that the shoe is on the other foot, Jamie is just as willing to fuss over me as I was last spring- further proof that I was right to give her my grandmother's ring two months ago.

As I return home with Jamie, I take my team easing out of my jeans, wincing at the still-painful sensations I get whenever I bend down or lift either of my legs. Once my jeans are off, though, I can't help but stare at myself in the mirror. Every morning when I was- well, when I was a girl- I'd stare at myself in the mirror in my pants and sigh at the sight of my smooth, flat crotch. Now, when I look at myself in my boxer shorts, I'm almost more excited than when I see myself naked.

Whenever I look at my penis, I can't help but see it for what it truly is- a flap of flesh scraped out from under my armpit, shaped into a tube and sewn over what used to be my vagina. But when I look at myself in underwear, I see a bulge. A bulge just like any other man has on the front of his body. Whenever I'd go swimming with the lads, or anywhere that required us to change our clothes, I'd always feel a sense of embarrassment at my total lack of 'package'. Not anymore. I'm not going to be swimming for a good long while- not until I'm fully healed, anyway- but next time we go anywhere where we have to get undressed, it'll be all I can manage not to laugh and/or cry.

"You know," Jamie giggles as she cuddles me from behind, "it's been a while, but I'm pretty sure men AREN'T supposed to spend time checking out their own crotch!"

"I'm fairly certain the same applied for women and their crotches eighteen months ago," I say, making Jamie laugh even louder.

"I had to inspect 'it' for damage," Jamie says. "Can't do that with your pants on now, can you?" I turn around and smile smugly, before lowering my underpants and letting them fall to the floor, making Jamie smile happily.

"I SO can't wait to give you your first proper blowjob," Jamie says, gently stroking my penis with the back of her fingers. "Is- is that good for you?"

"Every time you touch me it's good," I say with a smile. "I don't have full sensation in it yet- that's still months away- but I know you're doing it, and yes, what I can feel feels really, really good." I giggle as Jamie slowly sinks to her knees, before giving my new penis a soft, gentle kiss that sends shivers through my body.

"Okay, that's enough for now," Jamie says. "I've probably done too much already, don't want your doctors bollocking me..."

"The sooner they 'bollock' me, the better," I say, making Jamie giggle again as I pull up my boxer shorts and gingerly step into a pair of smart black trousers.

"Uncomfortable?" Jamie asks as she slithers into a slinky black dress.

"Still taking some getting used to," I say. "I've been wearing my baggiest jeans for the last seven weeks... Some days I actually wished it was acceptable for guys to wear skirts, heh."

"I won't tell if you won't," Jamie says, making me laugh.

"What, with these legs?" I ask, lifting the bottoms of my trousers to reveal the thin, wiry hair covering my shins.

"You could shave it off," Jamie shrugs. "I won't tell about that either..."

"It took me nine years to grow this hair," I say as I pull on my smart white shirt and fasten a tie around my neck. "I'm not letting anyone remove a single one from my body!"

"Good man," Jamie says with a smile as she applies layer after layer of lipstick before dousing herself in her favourite sweet-smelling perfume. I watch, entranced, as the love of my life ties her long blonde hair into a stylish updo, before slipping her feet into torturous-looking high-heeled shoes and grabbing her handbag.

"You get more beautiful with every passing day," I say, making Jamie wrap her arms around my neck and give me a long, deep kiss.

"So do you," Jamie whispers, kissing me again before we head downstairs, where my parents are already waiting for us.

"Ah, here they come, man and soon-to-be-wife," dad chuckles.

"I hope all you were doing up there is getting changed," mum says, making me wince. "You know what your doctor said..."

"Mum, I'm NOT discussing my sex life with you," I say, making Jamie giggle.

"Just don't forget your doctor's advice!" Mum says as we head out to dad's large, posh car. Before long, the four of us arrive at the fancy restaurant we selected for tonight's meal, where we meet up with Jamie's parents. Fortunately, Jamie's parents have always got along well with my parents, so the dinner goes smoothly, even as I'm forced to decline a golfing trip with my father and my future father-in-law.

When Jamie and I arrive home, we both breathe sighs of relief as we strip off our posh clothing and climb into bed together.

"Are you really THAT tired?" Jamie asks, propping herself up on her side and staring down at my tired, supine form.

"It- well, 'it' is having more of an effect on me than I thought it would," I sigh. "It's more the pain than the actual, well, the 'it' itself. And the constant panic that it'll fall off at a moment's notice..."

"Oh- seriously?" Jamie asks.

"You've read the same literature I have," I sigh. "Maybe 'fall off' is a bit strong, but you've read the same testimonials about grafts not fully adhering, about guys suffering a fistula or worse... And you were in a constant state of panic after your SRS that you'd inadvertently damage your 'it'..."

"Only up until I had the stitches removed," Jamie says, gently stroking my face. "I'm not denying that 'it' is a bit more complicated for you, but you need to trust in your surgeon. He IS the best SRS surgeon in Europe- especially for FTMs- right?"

"Right," I say with a tired smile on my face.

"So stop panicking," my wise fiancée says, giving me a kiss on the forehead. "This is a new experience for you. It's only natural that it'll take some getting used to."

"Thanks," I say with a smile. "I love you, Jamie."

"I love you too, Stuart," Jamie says, kissing me one more time before switching off the light. When I wake up the following morning, Jamie is already awake and dressing for the day in one of her many expensive dresses.

"Don't mind me," I laugh, carefully sitting up.

"Heh, morning, sexy!" Jamie giggles as she puts on a pair of sparkly sapphire earrings. "Sorry I didn't wake you, but you looked so peaceful... I need to get out early, got ballet this morning then I'm out until late afternoon doing a shoot..."

"It's okay," I laugh. "Life goes on, penis or no penis..."

"I can safely say that's the first time I've ever heard anyone use that sentence!" My fiancée giggles. "But you take care, okay?"

"Yeah, got the guys coming round later this morning," I sigh. "Gaming marathon... Might make this our Wednesday morning routine, heh! Those of us who don't have actual work to do..."

"Ooh, you are SO lucky I already agreed to marry you," Jamie says in a mock-angry voice, before giggling yet again. "I'll see you later, Stu. And for the love of god, shave! Last few days it's felt like I've been kissing a cheese grater..." I smile as Jamie gives me an overly-puckered kiss goodbye, before leaving me alone in my bed. I eventually get up and- being a dutiful fiancé- shave, before showering and getting dressed, once again smiling at the new bulge in my boxer shorts before pulling on a trusty pair of baggy jeans and a loose, thick sweatshirt.

My friends arrive, as promised, just after 10am and we immediately set about our gaming session, but it soon becomes apparent that all is not well for one of my friends.

"Jon," Paul eventually says after a particularly intense Call of Duty match, "you have not said five fucking words since you got here."

"Sorry, sorry," Jonathan sighs. "Just got a lot on my plate right now..."

"Wedding stuff?" I ask, grimacing as Jonathan nods. "Thank god Jamie's agreed to wait until I'm better..."

"Honestly man," Jonathan sighs, making me chuckle at his unconscious use of the word 'man'. "Just take Jamie and elope somewhere, you'll be doing yourself a favour."

"I'll have as much chance of convincing Jamie to do that as you have of convincing Viks to do that," I laugh. "Both of them have their hearts set on huge, fancy weddings... They always have. And besides, why isn't Mr. Best Man offering any help?"

"Hey!" Dan moans. "I'm helping... I've got the stag night sorted, for starters!"

"Picking three clubs out of a phone book doesn't equal 'sorted'!" Jonathan laughs.

"I've also got the invite list written up," Dan shrugs.

"Everyone in this room plus Riley, right?" Jonathan asks, making Dan grimace.

"...And one more," Dan sighs. "Your original best man..." I remain silent as we begin our next game- the 'original best man' Dan is referring to is the same man who was my 'original' best friend- the same man who hasn't even so much as sent me a text message in the two months since my operation, and the same man with whom I 'competed' for Jamie's affections almost a year ago. And the same man who has twice split my lip open with a right hook within the last twelve months...

"Have any of you guys even spoken to Keith this year?" Mikey- who barely knows Keith- asks.

"I've been to a few 'father's event' things with him," Dan says. "He really is devoted to that little boy... Even if he only sees him, like, once a week... I reckon he misses Charlotte."

"...More than Jamie?" I ask, triggering an awkward silence.

"They were never really together," Dan says. "Him and Charlotte, on the other hand... They were together forever, they made a kid with each other..."

"Does- does he ever talk about any of us?" I ask. "Like, does he miss, you know, 'this'?"

"A bit," Dan whispers, nodding his head. "He doesn't mention any of us by name but I know he misses being part of the 'gang'. Think he mostly hangs out with his work friends nowadays."

"Where does he work?" Paul asks. "He was doing a Masters in history, wasn't he?"

"Yep," Dan confirms. "Works for some historical research firm in the centre of London, spends most of his days looking through old texts..."

"Sounds like the most boring thing ever," Paul says.

"Meh, if it makes him happy and pays his bills," I shrug. "Do you know which firm?"

"Umm, I've probably got the name of it on a text somewhere," Dan says. "Why?" I take a deep breath before continuing- even despite our violent encounters, even despite the deep betrayal Keith inflicted on me... I still miss him. And if he wants to be a part of the group again, then he should be.

"We should go and see him," I say, prompting a confused reaction from the other guys. "Invite him to the stag night, invite him back into the 'group'..."

"No offence mate," Jonathan says, "but are you sure your dick's securely attached? Last time you saw him you went away with a cut lip..."

"Yes, it's securely attached!" I say, making Jonathan grimace and hold up his hands apologetically. "Good thing about eight weeks off your feet is that you get time to think about things... And as much of a tosser as he can be at times, I DO sometimes miss the guy."

"You know it ain't gonna be the same, right?" Jonathan asks. "Not with what happened between you and Jamie..."

"I know I said he misses Charlotte more," Dan says, "but... I told him about you and Jamie getting engaged, and he- he basically insisted that we immediately change the subject. I reckon he was really, really cut up about it..."

"Then I should definitely go and see him in person," I say. "Either that or we risk completely fucking up Jon's stag night..."

"He'll be so shitfaced he probably won't even recognise you," Jonathan laughs.

"If you speak to him at work," Dan says, "he won't be able to respond like- well, like he's done recently..."

"Everyone fancy going out for lunch, then?" I ask.

"What?" Jonathan blurts. "There's no rush, I'm not getting married for another three months..."

"No sense in putting it off, either," I say. "And yes, my dick is securely attached. Come on, let's get this match sorted, then we'll go and see him."

"I'll text him, let him know we'll be meeting for lunch," Dan says as I focus on the game whilst internally starting to quake at the thought of seeing my former best friend one more time.

Ninety minutes later, the five of us- myself, Dan, Paul, Mikey and Jonathan- are sat around a table in a small, but still relatively posh cafe in the centre of London. I'm feeling particularly self-conscious about the fact that I'm sat on an orthopedic cushion, especially as it looks like I'm sat on a booster seat when compared to the other six foot plus men- but the combination of my sensitive 'area' and the cafe's hard wooden seats isn't one I'd be able to tolerate for long. I try to remain as calm as possible as I wait for my former friend to arrive, but my hands still tremble from nerves every time I hear someone walk in the front door. When that person finally turns out to be Keith, I'm forced to grip my coffee cup to keep them from shaking. The tall man immediately locks eyes with me as soon as he spots our table, and keeps his eyes trained on me as he sits down directly opposite me.

"Guys," Keith says in a quiet voice. "Stu."

"Keith," I say in a voice barely louder than a mumble, leading to an awkward silence.

"Hi, I'm Mikey Dawson," Mikey says, shaking Keith's hand. "We met a couple of times earlier in the year, I'm going out with Krystie..."

"Yeah, I know who you are," Keith mumbles. "Why have you brought me here again? Better question, why have you brought HIM here?" I smirk as Keith points a finger in my face- as irritated as he may be with me, he at least respects me enough to still refer to me as 'him'.

"We're all here because this shit needs to stop," Jonathan says. "I'm getting married in three months. I don't want a war at the ceremony. Or the reception. And especially not on the stag night!"

"Yes, I know," Keith says. "Congratulations. But I'm not coming to your wedding."

"Oh- what?" Jonathan asks. "Mate, we've known each other ages..."

"Yeah, I've moved on," Keith says. "Too much water under the bridge."

"That's crap," I say, making Keith fix me with a furious stare. "You made time for us today at a moment's notice, that's hardly 'moving on'..."

"I was free for lunch and Dan offered to pay," Keith shrugs.

"You still regularly see Charlotte," I argue.

"I see my son," Keith retorts. "Kinda hard not to see her when she's the boy's mother." I open my mouth to respond to Keith, but before I can speak I'm interrupted by a quiet, timid voice from behind me.

"Ex-excuse me?" The voice's owner, a nervous looking girl in her late teens asks. "I'm sorry, I hope I'm not interrupting, but- but are you, you know, the Angels' boyfriends?"

"Heh," Jonathan laughs as all of- Keith included- smile nervously. "Now I know how Viks feels. Yes, yes we are, heh."

"Oh my god," the young woman breathes excitedly. "I'm sorry, can- can I get a selfie with you all, please?"

"No offence," Mikey laughs, "But you must be pretty desperate if we're the best people you can find for a selfie!"

"No, it's not-" the girl says, before cringing with embarrassment. "I'm just a really big fan of the girls..."

"Come on," I say, making the girl giggle as the six of us pose with her for her selfie.

"Thanks!" the young woman says, giggling excitedly as she leaves us to our lunches.

"Now I definitely haven't missed THAT," Keith snorts.

"Oh, that's happened what, four times over the last year?" Dan asks.

"And on all four occasions," I say, "there were at least four of us together, making it more obvious who we were."

"Surprised she didn't go as far to congratulate you about your dick," Jonathan says, making Keith snort with laughter.

"Yeah, I was actually going to say something similar," Keith laughs. "Figured it was still a sensitive subject..."

"Just a bit," I laugh.

"But you actually went ahead and had it done?" Keith asks, making me smile.

"Indeed I have," I reply.

"So- what, if we go for a piss now, you'd-" Keith asks.

"Not quite," I interrupt. "Have to wait a few months to get a urethra constructed and, um, 'inserted'..."

"Can we not talk about pissing whilst I'm drinking apple-flavoured tea, please?" Paul asks, making everyone- Keith included- laugh.

"Or dicks," Jonathan says.

"You're the one who brought it up!" I tell the dark-skinned man.

"That's what she said," Keith says, making the entire table laugh again. "Okay, maybe I've missed this a little..."

"I know what you mean about water under the bridge," I say. "But we're guys, we're not supposed to hold grudges, right?"

"I guess," Keith shrugs. "Congratulations also on your engagement, I guess..."

"Thanks," I say. "I- I'm not going to apologise, um, for Jamie choosing me-"

"Nah, you 'won' fair and square," Keith sighs. "Guess that's what hurt the most..."

"And you are welcome to come to our wedding," I say. "Whenever the hell that'll be. Assuming, of course, you're up for it..."

"I'll think about it," Keith says. "No promises, though."

"What about my stag?" Jonathan asks. "Dan's apparently got it all planned..."

"Trust your best man, okay?" Dan says. "I guarantee you'll be hungover as fuck the day you get married. I damn well owe you that after my wedding..."

"You weren't THAT pissed," I remind the dark-haired man.

"We'll have to try harder for Jonathan then," Keith says, making the groom-to-be groan.

"And then when it's Stu's turn, we basically bathe him in vodka," Jonathan says, making everyone laugh yet again, a laughter that persists right up until Keith makes his excuses just before 2pm. As the six of us leave the cafe- thankfully without running into any further 'fans'- Keith turns to me with a smile on his face.

"You still get on Destiny much, mate?" Keith asks.

"Now and again," I say, wary of Keith's sudden cheerfulness.

"Fancy a session tonight?" Keith asks.

"Um, sure!" I say, a smile creeping over my face as I get back into Mikey's car.

"Hey Keith!" Dan shouts as Keith starts to head back to work. "Umm, Friday night gaming session's at my place this week, you up for it?"

"Sure!" Keith laughs. "Kinda had Friday nights free since starting my job..."

"Right, well you've got a lot of pizza buying to make up for," Dan laughs. "Usual orders haven't changed. See you then!" Dan chuckles as he waves Keith off, but as hard as I try, I can't wipe the smile off my face at having my friend back.

Sure enough, that night- in between shooting countless aliens- the two of us finally clear the air, discussing my SRS, Jamie, Charlotte, Keith's son... By the time 11:30pm rolls around, neither of us wants to go to bed, despite us both having work tomorrow. As we both switch off our Playstations, however, Keith says something unexpected that catches me by surprise.

"I had a lot of fun tonight, mate," Keith says. "I'll see you on Friday. Take care of Jamie... Tell her I miss her, and tell her to tell Charlotte that I REALLY miss her... Talk soon, mate."

"Umm, okay, will do," I say, taken aback by Keith's confession. "Night, mate..."

Sure enough, when Friday rolls around, as Jamie and her friends enjoy their traditional night out, I'm sat in Dan's apartment with my friends, eating pizza, drinking beer and playing videogames. It's a testament to my friends that even despite my new 'equipment', I don't feel any more like one of the boys than I did before my SRS- none of my friends had ever met 'Claire', they simply accepted 'Stuart' on face value. It still amazes me how people who've only known me for a few years can do this, when so-called members of my family seemingly can't...

Three months later, I emerge from hospital once again in a lot of pain, once again attached to a catheter, only this catheter is inserted through my penis into my brand-new urethra. I've even had 'the pair' I wanted inserted- even if they are stiff rubber balls rather than real testicles.

The catheter means I can't enjoy Jonathan's wedding as much as I otherwise would- and can't attend the promised stag night at all- and it also keeps me mostly off my feet for mine and Becca's birthdays in March, but eventually, the catheter is removed, and with the aid of my nurse, I'm directed to the toilet in my private hospital room, which I stand in front of, penis in hand.

"Okay," I whisper, taking a deep breath.

"Take your time," the nurse says. "This is a big moment, no rush."

"I don't want to take too long and get that catheter put back in me," I moan.

"I'm sure you'll be fine," the nurse says as I relax and I feel my urethral sphincter opening, moments later, I shudder as a steady stream of urine flows out of the end of my penis, making a loud splashing noise as it hits the water below. Once I'm 'done', I'm almost in tears- it's such a simple thing, peeing, but every time in my life that I sat down and heard the feminine 'tinkle' of urine against a toilet bowl, it was a constant reminder of what I 'really' was. Now, every time I see the urine flow from the end of my penis, it'll be a reminder that I don't have to accept things with which I disagree.

I WAS a girl. But I didn't have to be, and I'm not anymore. I HAD a vagina, but I didn't have to have one, and now I'm the proud owner of a functional penis. Keith WAS my enemy... But now, once again, he's my friend, and is one of the many men standing outside my hospital room with a wide grin on my face as I emerge, one fist raised in triumph.

"No more sitting down for me!" I say, making the lads cheer. "High five, anyone?"

"Only if you promise you washed your hands first!" Keith says, before giving me a firm handshake and an awkward, manly hug. Sure, life isn't perfect- my relationship with my grandmother is still non-existent, for starters- but life doesn't HAVE to be perfect. It just has to be lived in the best way you see fit. And right now? With my fiancée, my mates and last, but not least, my genitals... It's hard to see how my life can get any better.