Just grin and bear it, I think to myself as I’m ushered to the front of the large room, where a beer is placed in my hands and a mock crown is placed on my head.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Stuart announces, a shit-eating grin quickly spreading across his face. “We are all gathered here, several of us hundreds of miles from home, as nineteen years ago today, the world saw the arrival of Ian David Freeman.” Except it didn’t, I think to myself. Nineteen years ago today, the world saw the arrival of a baby girl named Kayleigh-Ann Walker. However, as I’ve had to prove repeatedly over the last nineteen years, my name is NOT Kayleigh-Ann and I am NOT a girl. And what makes me smile widest of all is that I’m surrounded by dozens of friends who unquestioningly accept that statement.

…And even though Stuart probably didn’t mean to include me in his ‘hundreds of miles from home’ statement (even though Cardiff is only 150 miles from London), the truth is that I don’t consider Cardiff to be my home anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I’m proud to call myself Welsh, but over the last few months, I’ve truly come to regard London as my home, thanks in no small part to the friends who have all gathered today to celebrate my birthday.

…And thanks in no small part to the fact that my mother now lives here in Cardiff. Thankfully, living with grandma means that she’s behaving herself a lot more than she used to. Her ‘migraines’ or ‘depression attacks’ are a thing of the past, she’s actually got herself a job and is making a conscious effort not to constantly ask me about my famous friends or pressure me into using them to get myself a bigger public profile- or even A public profile. However, she did need to be persuaded not to attend tonight’s party, and truthfully, I can’t wait to get back to London tomorrow.

That said, though, there are some aspects of Cardiff that I’ll miss while I’m back home- especially the petite ginger girl who sticks her hand in the back pocket of my jeans as Stuart continues his speech.

“I’m not sure the world has really recovered from it,” Stuart says, making me chuckle and roll my eyes as my mentor gives me a pat on my shoulder. “But I know I’m glad to call Ian my friend and sometimes protégé, and I’m especially glad to be here today to wish him a very happy birthday.”

“Happy birthday!” The crowd all cheer.

“Especially as it means that by saying that, my speech is now done,” Stuart says, “and I can get back to drinking my beer and playing my guitar.”

“Woo!” Stuart’s friend Mikey cheers as he and the rest of his band head back to the stage to resume playing. Meanwhile, Chloe and I head to the bar area of the large function room, where I can’t help but grin at the sight that greets me.

“Hey, birthday boy!” Mac cheers, along with Ben, Lee, Neil and Rob.

“Hey guys,” I say. “What’ve I missed while I was being ritually humiliated?”

“Not much,” Mac shrugs.

“We’d never dare have fun without you,” Lee says, making me chuckle and roll my eyes. “We were just comparing notes about uni, that sort of thing.”

“Yeah, kinda wishing I’d gone to London now too,” Neil says. “It does sound cool, all the parties you’ve been going to.” I let out a quick smile, though it quickly falters when I see the half-angry, half-jealous look in my girlfriend's eyes.

“Not as cool as this party, though!” Mac says, triggering another cheer from my friends.

“Thanks,” I say. “Stuart deserves most of the credit for it, though.”

“Doesn’t hurt to have a friend and mentor whose wife is one of the most famous women in the country,” Ben teases, making me chuckle again even as inside, I feel my stomach starting to churn.

You may have noticed one name missing from the list of friends here today- Dan declined to come today, and while I’m certainly not sorry that he stayed in London, I can almost feel his disapproving glare on the back of my neck at the 'loudness' of the party, especially with it being thrown by friends and family of the Angels- just as I can feel my mum’s approving look from the other side of the city…

“Anyways,” Mac says, “we’re gonna hit the pool table in a bit, want a game?”

“No he doesn’t,” Chloe replies before I get the chance to speak. “He wants to dance with the girlfriend he’s barely seen any of the last three months.”

“…She has spoken,” I say, laughing as Chloe gives me a gentle punch in my arm before dragging me back to the dance floor.

“So I wanted to have you by myself for a while,” Chloe says as we cling to each other and sway to the music. “Is there something wrong with that?”

“No, of course not,” I reply. “God knows I wouldn’t have minded just spending the evening with you, quietly…”

“Yeah…” Chloe says in a quiet, awkward voice. “I wish you didn’t have to go back to London tomorrow…”

“I wish you could come to London with me!” I retort. “Somewhere where we won’t have my grandma or your family, you know, getting in our way…”

“Well- just a few months and I’ll be there,” Chloe reminds me. “Assuming you can drag yourself away from all these student parties, anyway…” O-kay, I think to myself. Not guilt tripping me at all…

“Well,” I reply. “I’ll just have to drag you TO all of them, won’t I?” The giggle my girlfriend gives me is enough to tell me that I’m out of whatever doghouse I was in- for now, anyway.

“Ahh… Still sucks that you’re going back tomorrow, though,” Chloe sighs.

“Mm,” I grunt in agreement, even if there is a large part of me- a part that I do my best to hide from my girlfriend- that’s looking forward to going back.

“Still,” Chloe giggles. “At least you’ll get to be at the big Angel New Year’s party tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah,” I chuckle nervously. Truthfully, though, I really don't want to go to the party. I had fun at last year's party, sure, but that was despite all the TV cameras being there, and I could really use a 'quiet' night.

“Yeah,” Chloe whispers as we continue dancing. “Are you staying here overnight or are you going back home?” It takes me a while to realise that by 'here', Chloe means the hotel, rather than the city. And by 'home', she means grandma's house, and not London.

“Umm, back home,” I reply. “All of the London gang are staying here in the hotel overnight, though, why do you want to know?”

“Reckon they’d let us, you know, ‘borrow’ it for a while?” Chloe purrs, making my whole body tingle with anticipation.

Twenty minutes later, after borrowing Mac’s room key on the pretense of ‘changing my clothes’, Chloe and I return to the party area hand in hand and with wide, happy grins on our faces. I allow myself a small blush as we pass by the stage area where the band are playing, where Stuart gives me a sly thumbs up. After sharing a giggle with my girlfriend, we head to the back area with the pool table, where my five friends are still huddled together.

“…Changed your mind, then?” Mac asks as he takes his shot.

“Umm, about what?” I ask.

“Your shirt,” Mac replies, reminding me of the excuse I gave for needing his room key.

“Yeah, THAT’s why he wanted privacy,” Lee says, before laughing as Chloe grabs a pool cue and gives him a quick whack in the shins with it.

“Ah, you want to join in the tourney, then?” Neil teases, making my girlfriend roll her eyes.

“I’m 5’ 1” and wearing my shortest skirt,” Chloe retorts. “I really want to be bending over a pool table, don’t I?”

“Watch what you say next,” I caution my friends, earning mocking ‘oohs from all of them as I link fingers with my girlfriend.

“You want a game, Ian?” Ben asks.

“Ehh… Maybe later,” I reply.

“Well- we’re not going anywhere,” Mac says with a smile.

“Unlike some,” Lee says, making me and the rest of the boys smirk as Chloe hits him in the shins again.

“I’d better take that before you start aiming at his eyes,” Rob says, taking the cue from Chloe and setting up the table for a game against Mac.

“Or another part of my anatomy,” Lee teases.

“DON’T tempt me,” Chloe threatens, before waving a finger in my face. “And you can shut up too.”

“Didn’t say anything,” I plead.

“I know, but you’ve been living with him for too long,” Chloe says as we head back out to the main party area, where my arrival is once again greeted with a cheer.

“Ah, there he is,” Stuart says in a teasing voice. “The man of the hour…”

“Do NOT give another speech,” I warn my mentor, who simply laughs in response.

“No, wouldn’t dare,” Stuart replies. “It’s just that Dan’s nipped to the toilet and we need our backup bassist up here. So come on, hop to it!” I sigh and try not to blush as I head up on stage to yet more cheers, and pick up the instrument that my friend has left for me.

“Don’t worry too much,” Stuart says to me in a quiet voice. “This is a very simple one you’ve played before, not many chord changes, and, as you know…”

“No one listens to the bassist anyway,” I say, earning a supportive grin from my mentor. I take a deep breath as I tune the instrument, before following the rest of the band’s lead as we play Come Together by the Beatles.

Once the song’s over, I let out a loud sigh of relief, but I can’t help but cringe as the crowd let out a long round of applause, and while my stress is soothed slightly when Chloe rushes to the stage and gives me a long, deep kiss, I still feel tense as the spotlight stays fixed on me, just as mum wanted throughout my whole life…

Fortunately, even though I’m still the guest of honour, I stay out of the spotlight for the rest of the night, and I quickly relax- and as time passes, even the feeling of being on stage doesn’t feel so bad in hindsight. This could, however, be due to the number of beers I drank, which clouds my memory of much that happens later in the night; and results in a splitting headache the following morning when a loud banging noise wakes me from my slumber.

“Ian!” Grandma shouts through the door, making me groan in pain as I huddle under my warm sheets. “Ian, it’s 8am, your friends will be here soon to take you back to London!”

“Unf,” I moan as I slowly open my eyes and immediately regret it. “I’ll be downstairs in a bit…”

“Well hurry up, your breakfast’s getting cold!” Grandma admonishes, making me groan with pain as I roll out of bed and pull on my plain grey dressing gown. I take several deep breaths to try to clear my head as I walk down the stairs to the kitchen, where the smell of bacon frying makes my mouth water and stomach churn at the same time. I instantly tense up, though, when I see my mother sitting opposite me at the kitchen table.

I should point out, in the interest of fairness, that living with my mother for short periods over the holidays isn’t nearly as horrific as living with her full-time. Grandma’s presence is the main reason for this- on more than one occasion she’s had to play ‘referee’ whenever mum and I have had a disagreement, but every time she does, I feel guilty- she is seventy-six, after all, and I can tell how much it’s breaking her heart to watch her child and grandchild not get on. As time has gone on, mum has become more accepting of me, accepting of my career choice, my friend, my girlfriend, and of me as a man. However, it still makes me tense up every time she looks at me with the same expectant look she had in her eyes all throughout my childhood…

“Good morning,” mum says, trying not to frown as I tuck into my bacon sandwich- a breakfast that’s a far cry from the vegan diet she forced on me when I was younger.

“Morning,” I reply.

“Did you have a good night last night?” Mum asks. “I haven’t seen any photos on Facebook yet…” Nor are you likely to, I think to myself, given that I’m the only person on your friends list who was there and I’m not likely to upload any…

“Yeah, it was fun,” I reply. “Was great getting to introduce my uni friends from London to Neil and Rob.”

“I know how much you’ve been missing your Robot Wars friends,” grandma says with a smile. “I imagine you’ll miss them when you go back to London?”

“Yeah, but we still get together for online gaming sessions at least once a week,” I reply. “It’s Chloe I’ll miss the most, heh.”

“I bet!” Grandma teases. “Still, in just a few months, she’ll be living in London too…”

“Yep,” I reply. “And we’ll both be adults, able to do whatever we want, whenever we want…” I try to suppress a smirk at the disapproving look on my grandmother’s face- though the emotionless look on my mother’s face soon brings my mood crashing back down.

“Anyway,” Grandma says, “you’d better get that down you, you’ve got a long drive back to London. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather travel by train? It’s bound to be more comfortable…”

“Nah, I’ll be okay in the van,” I reply. Probably more comfortable than I was at the party, I think to myself with a smile as I anticipate the trip back, three hours in a van with some of my best friends- in many ways it'll be even more enjoyable than the party itself.

Just over 45 minutes later, the minibus pulls up, and I waste no time in lugging my heavy case downstairs. I have a sad smile on my face as I bid farewell to Grandma with a hug, and a relieved one as I exchange an awkward hug with my mother, knowing it'll be the last one we exchange for a good long while. My smile widens, though, when I drop my bags in the back of my friend’s minibus and climb into one of the back seats alongside my flat mate, who’s clearly suffering just as much as I was this morning.

“Take it we all had a good night last night, then?” I ask, earning tired grunts and growls from Lee, Mac and Ben.

“Some better than others,” Stuart says from the front passenger seat.

“Great party, though,” Stuart’s friend (and the band’s lead guitarist) Mikey says from the driver’s seat.

“Oh, definitely, thank you SO much for it,” I say with a genuine grin.

“Nah, thank YOU for letting us do another gig!” Mikey chuckles. “I know you’re not a fan of being in the spotlight, but you did really well last night.”

“Yeah, you were a natural,” Mac concurs. “From what I remember, anyway.”

“Yeah, well don’t book me for any more gigs,” I say with a tired chuckle. “Gonna be kinda busy with uni work in the next few weeks?”

“Our regular bassist’s gonna be busy with three kids under the age of 5 in the next few months,” Stuart retorts. “But it’s okay, we’re not gonna get you up on stage again.”

“Unless we really, really need you,” Mikey teases, making me roll my eyes. “Neither of you guys play any instruments, do you?”

“I took violin lessons when I was younger,” Ben replies.

“Ah, that’s cool,” Mikey replies.

“What, the violin, really?” Ben replies with an uncertain look on his face.

“I can play it,” Mikey says. “I’m teaching Stuart it when I can.”

“Isn’t it a bit, you know…” Ben says, before biting his lip as his words trail off.

“…Girly?” Stuart asks, filling the van with an awkward silence.

“Ugh, sorry…” Ben moans. “I just- I just got, you know, teased a lot at school ‘cause I played the violin, that’s all.”

“Shouldn’t be ashamed of it,” Mikey shrugs. “I love playing the violin, composing for it too. Lemmy from Motorhead also played the violin.”

“When you think about it,” Stuart says, “the only thing that’s really ‘girly’ is, well, being a girl. And I don’t see any in this van, right?”

“Right,” my friends all reply, making me smile with pride.

“Speaking of, though,” I say.

“Yes, we’ll stop at Chloe’s so you can say goodbye to her,” Mikey says, making me grin again as I’m subjecting to some good-natured jeering. “Her parents aren’t likely to let her come to London though, are they?”

“Well, last year they said she could this year,” I reply. “Doubt they will, though. And I doubt she’d want to spend three hours in a van with six guys, heh.”

“Oh, I imagine she wouldn’t mind being snuggled up to you for all that time,” Lee teases.

“I know I wouldn’t,” I reply with a grin. “I also know that exactly 365 days ago, you were riding back to London in a car with four girls.” I smirk as the good-natured jeering turns in my friend’s direction, who simply rolls his eyes before smirking himself.

“One of whom I later got off with,” Lee reminds the rest of us.

“Yes yes yes,” Stuart sighs as the van pulls onto the estate where Chloe lives.

I sigh and shake my head at the ribbing the boys give me as the van pulls up outside my girlfriend’s house, before I jump out and knock on the front door. As always, I brace myself for a confrontation- Chloe still lives with her two sisters, neither of whom are particularly fond of me. However, of the two, it’s the youngest I’d prefer to answer the door, and my mind flashes back to next year as the door opens and Chloe’s 14-year-old sister greets me with an angry sneer.

“Hi Rosie,” I say. “Chloe up yet?” Before she responds, Rosie looks behind me at the van, then glances furtively up and down her street. “…No, no Angels this year, I’m afraid.” I smirk smugly, deepening the teenager’s frown as she leans back into her house.

“Chlo!” Rosie shouts up the stairs. “Your boyfriend’s here!” I grin as the unmistakable sound of someone practically skipping down a flight of stairs comes from within the house, followed seconds later by my girlfriend greeting me with a long, deep kiss.

“Hey you,” Chloe says, stealthily slipping a hand into the back pocket of my jeans.

“Hey,” I reply. “Just thought I should, you know, say goodbye in person before I go back to London.”

“You thought right,” Chloe teases, before letting out a long, angry sigh. “Just wish I could go back with you, but you know, mum…”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “But I have uni work, and, well- yeah…”

“Yeah,” Chloe says, fidgeting as an awkward silence falls over the two of us. “Well, don’t stay away too long, okay?”

“I won’t,” I reply, exchanging another kiss with my girlfriend before reluctantly heading back to the minibus and collapsing into my seat with a heavy sigh.

“All good?” Stuart asks with a sympathetic smile. “I know the whole ‘long distance’ thing can be a pain, heh.”

“He speaks from experience,” Mikey says as we drive away. “First half of his final year at uni he was sulking over a girl he’s met in London over the summer.”

“Didn’t you go to uni in London, then?” Mac asks.

“Nah, studied at Nottingham uni,” Stuart replies. “First time ever living away from home, heh. Sure, I missed my family, and yes, my then-girlfriend a lot, but believe me, it’s well worth the experience in the end. You will be glad you did it.”

"When you eventually move out, anyway," Lee teases Mac, who rolls his eyes and sighs.

"Just means I have more spare money to spend on going out," the blond-haired boy retorts, making the rest of the car chuckle.

"Same here," Ben says. "Yeah, I know it's lame, heh."

"Hey, I lived at home when I was at uni," Mikey says. "Do I regret not moving away to study? Maybe a little. But I'm living independently now, I've got a great career, a gorgeous wife and the cutest daughter in the world."

"Careful," Stuart cautions his best friend, who chuckles. "Sorry, the conversation's going to get a bit 'dad' for the next few minutes."

"Occupational hazard of having mates several years older than you, I'm afraid," Mikey says with a chuckle. "Even if we do drive you everywhere and pay for the parties."

"For which I am grateful, believe me," I say. "Even if Lee could technically have driven us if-"

"Oh- shut up," my best friend cautions me. "You really want ME driving THAT car at 70 miles an hour on a motorway?"

"Might be fun," Ben shrugs, making the rest of us laugh.

“Like we were just discussing, you only regret the things you don’t do,” Mikey muses.

“That’s definitely been true for me,” I say with a smile as I stretch my legs out and prepare for the long drive home.

Sure, I’ve made mistakes, and there are parts of my life I’d like to go back and erase- the scars on my right wrist are a constant reminder of some of my worst mistakes- but the decisions I’ve made have led me to this point in my life right here, right now, surrounded by friends, with an amazing, cute girlfriend and at least one member of my family who I can rely on. And most importantly, my decisions have led me to having a body with a flat chest, a firm, muscular physique and hair covering my whole body, even my face. And despite the depression, and anger and the often physical pain I’ve had to endure, I’d go through it all again to be able to sit here and say, 100% truthfully, that my name IS Ian and I AM a man.

Three long hours later, the minibus pulls up outside our London flat and Lee and I pile out, both of us letting out a long sigh of relief as we drop our bags in the hall and drop ourselves down onto the sofa.

“Hi honey, we’re home,” Lee says, making me sigh and roll my eyes. “Heh, never thought I’d be glad to call London my home!”

“It’s kinda weird for me too,” I retort. “And I lived here for, like, fifteen years, heh.”

“Still planning on moving back to Cardiff once you’ve graduated?” Lee asks, making my bite my lip.

“Maybe,” I reply. “It’ll depend on what Chloe’s doing.” And what the rest of my family are doing, I think to myself. The reason I moved to Cardiff in the first place is that it was where my mother wasn’t. Now that she is in Cardiff, the city’s definitely lost its appeal- though there’s nothing that says I’d have to live with my family if I moved back, especially if Chloe’s still living there as well. However, this is a discussion for another time, and there are more pressing matters to attend to first…

“Fancy some lunch?” I ask my friend.

“Thought you’d never ask,” Lee says, taking out his phone and opening a takeaway delivery app. “What are we doing tonight, then? Going to the Angels’ party? You’ve got an implied invite, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, kinda,” I reply. “I dunno. From what Stuart was saying there might not be a big New Year party this year anyway, with Charlotte having three young children and all. And to be honest, I- I kinda…”

“Yeah, I get it, it’s fine,” Lee shrugs. “After last night I kinda fancy a quieter night anyway. Heh, as lame as that makes me sound.”

“Nah, you’re not lame, just not a stereotypical student,” I say.

“Fuck stereotypes,” Lee says with a confident smirk as he gets up and takes his bag into his bedroom. “Food’ll be here in 30 minutes, you want to shower or anything?”

“…Thanks for the hint,” I say.

“Not meant as a hint,” Lee retorts. “Though that was a long trip in a cramped minibus…”

“Yeah, well if my girlfriend doesn’t complain about it, you don’t get to,” I say, before sighing. “…Okay, I’ll jump in the shower, I could probably use it, heh.”

“Goodo,” Lee says. “Is- is everything okay between you and Chloe?”

“Sure,” I reply. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I dunno,” Lee mumbles. “You two just seemed a bit, you know, awkward last night, that’s all.”

“Well- we’re fine,” I say as I enter the bathroom. “Just struggling a bit with the whole long-distance thing, think she was miserable that I had to come back home today. And even if we weren’t fine, remember the bro code.”

“Hands off a bro’s ex for six months, yes, I know,” Lee says. “Anyway, I’m just saying, I made a long-distance relationship work last year, so if you need any help-“

“Didn’t Jacinta end up dumping you?” I remind my friend.

“Okay, yes, yes, if you don’t want to talk about it, fine, I know when my advice isn’t wanted,” Lee says with a sigh.

“Water’s going on now anyway, so I wouldn’t be able to hear you,” I say as I strip off and turn on the shower, sighing as the warm water cascades over my body.

I have to admit to myself, though, that Lee does have a point. The physical distance between me and Chloe has strained things a lot over the last few months, though it hasn't strained my feelings for her- she'll always be my first proper girlfriend, the first girl who saw me for what I am- not a girl, but a MAN.

Our lunch arrives just after I finish drying myself down, and after eating, I head to my room to unpack while Lee immerses himself in his coursework in the living room. Once I’ve finished, I flop back on my bed with my phone and log into Facebook, hoping to find my girlfriend online for a chat, but I quickly toss my phone onto my bed in frustration when I see that she’s offline. This isn’t surprising- I knew ahead of time that Chloe is working in her part-time job today- but it doesn’t make me any less stressed, especially after my conversation with Lee. Before I can log out of Facebook, though, my phone pings to inform me of an incoming message.

‘Hey mate, you settled back in okay?’ Stuart’s message reads.

‘Yeah, fine,’ I reply. ‘Jamie okay with you getting back home and immediately messaging me then?’

‘I’m not THAT whipped,’ Stuart replies with a ‘middle finger’ emoji that I reply to with a ‘sticking out tongue’ emoji. ‘She and Olivia stuck around just long enough for me to say hi to them before heading out with mine and Jamie’s mother and my sisters.’

‘And you need me to be a surrogate ‘little brother’ then?’ I ask, chuckling as I get another obscene emoji in response.

‘Just wanted to see if you’re okay and if you’re coming to the party tonight?’ Stuart asks. ‘And to apologise again about the whole ‘spotlight’ thing yesterday, but you were okay with it when I asked?’

‘Reckon that was just a force of habit,’ I reply. ‘I’m so used to just saying yes whenever mum asked me to do anything like that.’

‘Well don’t be afraid to say no to me next time,’ Stuart types. ‘Even though you did look like you were having fun up there.’

‘A little, maybe,’ I type, before taking a deep breath. ‘But I am going to give the party tonight a miss if that’s okay.’

‘Absolutely fine,’ Stuart types. ‘Hope you have fun tonight!’

‘You too,’ I type with a ‘smiling’ emoji, as I muse on how odd it is to have friends who place no conditions on your friendship, while the same can't be said of your so-called family...

‘G2G now, heading out with my dad and my brother-in-law in a bit,’ Stuart types. ‘My dad’s 70 next year so we’re planning a special party for him, that sort of thing.’

‘Cool,’ I type. ‘Talk to you in the New Year?’

‘Sure,’ Stuart types, before logging out and leaving me alone with my thoughts, and the fact that Stuart’s spending the day with his family leads them in only one direction.

This time of year was not a happy one for me when I was a child. Having Christmas, birthday and New Year all in the same week might be someone’s idea of a perfect holiday, but for me it meant nothing but stress and misery, because all of that time would be spent with my family. The vegan Christmas dinner was inevitably barely edible, mum would be constantly on my back to be grateful for all my presents- all of which I hated- dad would spend the time either ignoring me or arguing with mum; and when my paternal grandmother dropped round… I let out a shudder at the memories conjured up by the thought of that old hag. Especially the memories of dressing up in stupid dresses and thick, itchy tights. Fortunately, I have a new, better family to spend my time with; and while two of the people I love the most- Chloe and my maternal grandmother- are miles away in Cardiff, it doesn’t mean I don’t have plenty of friends to spend my time with. As the man that I was born to be.

Friends who all drop round after dinner to enjoy an evening of videogames, celebrating the end of one year and the start of the next. I can’t help but fidget, though, when I see one unexpected guest on our front doorstep.

“Good evening,” Dan- as in Jordan Young, Lee’s uni friend- says as he lets himself into our flat.

“Hi Dan,” I say, barely disguising my contempt for the large young man.

“I will admit, I was surprised when I got the invitation to come round,” Dan says. “I’d have thought you’d spend your New Year with your famous friends, having an orgy or whatever it is they do.”

“Yeah, well, I had an orgy last night and I’m still sore from it,” I sarcastically reply.

“Well, nevertheless, I am grateful for the invitation,” Dan says, taking me aback- his gratitude does seem sincere. “Admittedly, the only other choice was spending the evening with my sisters watching them drink themselves into a coma and fantasise about every boy band ever.”

“Well- glad to be of service,” I say. “Help yourself to a drink.”

“Thank you,” Dan says, pointedly moving the alcoholic drinks on our table to one side and helping himself to a can of Diet Coke.

“Hi Sheldon,” Mac says sarcastically as Dan sits down next to him and picks a spare controller off our coffee table.

“Hello Joey Essex,” Dan replies, making Mac (and, in fairness, everyone else) smirk. “What are we playing first?”

“Umm, we’ll let Ian choose, it was his birthday yesterday after all,” Ben replies.

“Oh yes, I almost forgot,” Dan says, taking an envelope out of the satchel he always carries with him and handing it to me. “Happy birthday, Ian. I hope your party yesterday didn’t kill TOO many brain cells.”

“Thanks,” I say, opening the envelope and putting the card with the others on our bookshelf.

“You will forgive me for skipping last night’s party, though,” Dan says.

“Very much so,” Mac says. “Figured it might be a bit loud for your tastes.”

“Indeed,” Dan says, ignoring or oblivious to Mac’s slight. “This is the kind of party I much prefer.” And despite my dislike of him, I can't help but find myself at least partly agreeing with Dan.

Our friends stick around until just after 1am, the gaming session only pausing just before midnight to usher in the start of 2019 (despite Dan’s protests at celebrating, in his words, ‘returning to an arbitrarily-chosen point of Earth’s orbit around the Sun). Thanks to my alcohol consumption during the night, I fall asleep quickly, and am only woken the following morning by the sound of the television coming from our living room.

“Good morning!” Lee says in a perky voice that grates against my hungover brain as I enter the living room, clad in only my dark blue dressing gown. “Did I wake you?”

“Guess,” I reply with a growl that makes my friend laugh. “And I was enjoying finally sleeping in my own bed again, heh.”

“Yeah, me too,” Lee sighs. “Got loads of coursework to catch up on, though, so figured I needed an early start.”

“Yeah, well I got a head start on that before Christmas for this exact reason,” I say. “Ugh, two hangovers in as many mornings is NOT fun.”

“Yeah, well think of it this way,” Lee muses. “No one’s ever hung over on January 2nd, are they?”

“How about people whose birthday is today?” I retort. “Like those unlucky sods in our year turning nineteen today, heh.”

“Heh, yep,” Lee chuckles. “Anyway, I’m probably gonna be busy all day, you got anything planned?”

“Might head along to the Angels’ coffee shop later,” I reply. “Said I’d meet up with, well, someone…”

“Ooh, don’t tell me you’re turning into a ‘girl in every city’ kinda guy, are you?” Lee teases, making me roll my eyes.

“No, it’s just Laura, one of the young girls from the ‘Fellowship’,” I reply. “The whole ‘fellowship’ met up last year on New Year’s Day, that’s not an option this year, so I’m just going to drop in to say hi.”

“Is this the same Laura who wouldn’t stop flirting with you when you first met her?” Lee asks, making me roll my eyes again.

“Maybe,” I reply. “It’s definitely the same Laura who’s 5’ 9”, got a model’s body and a ballerina’s flexibility, though.”

“…Really?” Lee asks. “She’s that flexible?”

“Yep,” I say.

“Even though she was born, well, you know…” Lee asks, trying to be tactful and sensitive- something with which he admittedly doesn't have a great deal of experience.

“She’s every bit as feminine as I am masculine,” I say, widening my friend’s eyes.

“You’ll definitely have to let me know if she ever becomes single, then,” Lee says. “I take it she has a boyfriend, you know, admirers? If she’s as fit as you described her to be-“

“She’s every bit as popular with the boys as I am with the girls,” I say with a smug grin.

“…Damn, I think I’m in love already!” Lee says, making me chuckle as I eat my breakfast.

After breakfast, I leave Lee to his work and head to the coffee shop owned by the Angels, where after a short wait in a queue outside, I find a small table to myself in the corner. It isn’t long before I have company.

“Hello, stranger!” Laura says with a giggle as she approaches my table. “My shift ends in about 10 minutes so I’ll get you your drink, then we can chat for a bit, okay?”

“Sure, works for me!” I say, watching closely as Laura sashays away in her short skirt and tight top, clothes I had to wear many times when I was younger and that don’t bring back any fond memories, but that look very appealing when wrapped around Laura’s slender body. Though that has far more to do with the body than the clothes.

A few minutes later, after removing her apron and her name badge (but keeping on her extra-short skirt), Laura comes over and sits down next to me, letting out an over-exaggerated sigh of relief that makes me giggle.

“So then, hi!” I say, making my friend giggle girlishly.

“Hi!” Laura replies. “So then… How was the big birthday party?”

“It was great, thanks!” I reply, before smiling sympathetically. “I’m sorry you couldn’t come, but I do understand why.” The day before the party, Laura received news that her paternal grandmother (with whom she had a much better relationship than I have with my paternal grandmother) had died, which obviously didn’t put her in the right mood for a big party. “Are- are you doing okay?”

“Yeah,” Laura shrugs. “Really not looking forward to tomorrow, is that bad?”

“The funeral?” I ask, smiling again as Laura nods. “It’s understandable, I guess.” As it was Laura’s paternal grandmother who died, her father will also be at the funeral, and there’s more than a little bit of history between the two of them.

“I just want to get tomorrow over and done with,” Laura sighs. “I mean, it’s mad, right? But I’m actually looking forward to going back to college, heh.”

“Yeah, I feel the same way about uni,” I say. “I arrived back in London yesterday, and I slept better last night than I did during any night I was in Cardiff.”

“Hmm,” Laura muses with a grin. “I can’t wait ‘til I go to uni. Hell, I can’t wait until I’m eighteen, hehe! Which will be later this year, and I expect to see you at the MASSIVE party that I'll have, MISTER Freeman!”

“Oh, I’ll be there,” I say with a grin that falters slightly as a very tall, very muscular boy enters the coffee shop, makes a beeline for Laura and gives her a long, deep kiss.”

“Hey babe,” the tall boy says, before fixing me with a firm, almost angry stare. “Hello.”

“Hey you,” Laura says with a giggle as the tall boy caresses her shoulder. “Ian, this is Kain, my extra-sexy boyfriend, Kain, this is Ian, a, um, friend.”

“Hello,” Kain repeats, before frowning in confusion as I roll up my t-shirt’s long sleeve.

“I’ve got one of these,” I say, rolling up my sleeve to show off my ‘Fellowship’ tattoo.

“Got it exactly 365 days ago,” Laura says as a look of realisation spreads across her boyfriend’s face.

“Ah, right,” Kain says. “Babe, you ready to go?”

“Just give us a second,” Laura says, before sighing sadly. "I did say we'd head somewhere else to get lunch, sorry..."

"No worries," I shrug. "Meeting a couple of uni friends here in a bit anyway. Assuming they can get through the queue outside, heh!"

"I'll make sure they get waved through," Laura says with a wink. "Say hi to Lee for me, and- are you still seeing your girlfriend?"

"Who, Chloe?" I ask with a nod, which seems to set Kain's mind at ease much more than my tattoo did. "I'll tell her you said hi too."

"Thanks!" Laura giggles as she slips her hand into her boyfriend's back pocket, just as Chloe did mine. "Talk soon!"

"Sure!" I say with a grin as Laura and her boyfriend head away, passing Mac and Ben on the way into the shop.

"Hi mate," Ben says, subtly looking back at the blonde girl as she and her tall lover leave.

"Mate, seriously, have you got a girl in every city?" Mac asks, making me roll my eyes.

"Yeah, because that was her brother she was groping on the way out," I reply with a sigh. "Don't think I've got much chance next to a frigging basketball player like that, have I?"

"You'd have to ask Chloe," Ben shrugs. "Think I know what she'd say."

"...Yeah," I concede with a giggle as a waitress arrives to take my friends' orders.

After a quick lunch with my friends, I head home, and the rest of the evening is spent chatting with Chloe on Facebook, before we head to our (sadly separate) beds just after midnight. As I drift off to sleep, I can’t help but muse on how 2018 may have had its ups and downs, but I’ve emerged from it stronger than ever. I have a girl that I love, family who are gradually coming round, a gang of great friends, I have my independence; and most importantly, I have a piece of paper that says that as far as the law is concerned, I am 100% male.

As the next day dawns, however, I realise that I should’ve known better than to be optimistic about my future.

“Morning!” Lee says as I head into the living room and drop down on the sofa. “Told you no one’s ever hungover on the 2nd of January, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, I suppose,” I chuckle.

“This came for you in the post, by the way,” Lee says, handing me a white envelope. “Looks kinda important.”

“It’s probably a bank statement,” I shrug as I open the envelope and read the letter within. As I read it, however, my legs start to tremble and my hands slowly start to shake. Once I’ve reached the end of the page, I drop back down onto the sofa, a fine sheen of sweat quickly covering my whole body as I start to hyperventilate.

“Ian?” Lee asks with a look of concern on his face. “Mate, are you okay?” I feebly shake my head, prompting a frown from my friend as he picks up my discarded letter. Lee mumbles as he reads the letter, before coming to the line that caused my head to explode. “We are writing to inform you that Mr. Craig Walker has started legal proceedings against you and is claiming £22 000 in compensation!? Ian, wh- what the hell? Who’s Craig Walker?”

“…My father,” I say, before curling up in a foetal position and trying my hardest not to cry.

“He’s claiming for emotional distress, fraud…” Lee says as he reads down the letter. “Ian, can- can he do this?”

“I- I- oh, god…” I say, before finally breaking down in tears as Lee looks on awkwardly. “What the fu- just- just why is this happening!?”

“That- that’s a good question,” Lee says. “Ian, mate, I- I want to help, but I’m not a lawyer, do- does your family have a solicitor, someone they can call on?”

“No,” I sob into my knees.

“Maybe- maybe this is just, you know, a prank?” Lee says, before sighing as he examines the letter again. “Though this letter has a phone number and a website for the law firm dealing with it… Mate, you- you really should call someone. Maybe your grandmother, or Stuart, just- just someone.”

“I don’t know, I don’t know!” I wail. “Why couldn’t that bastard have just fucked off and died!?”

“Ian- Ian! Look at me,” Lee says firmly, making me look at him as tears continue to trickle down my cheeks. “This isn’t something you should just ignore. Give Stuart a call, or Jamie, or someone!”

“I- I don’t want to be a burden on them…” I meekly mumble.

“Mate, look at yourself,” Lee says in a much more serious tone than I’ve ever heard him use. “You’re in a right state. You’re not going to be able to deal with this by yourself. You NEED help. I can help where I can, but mate, I- I deal with robots. I’m totally clueless when it comes to legal things.”

“Stuart’s a musician and Jamie’s a model,” I moan. “What are they going to be able to do?”

“More than me!” Lee replies. “Mate, all your life, you’ve wanted to be a man. You need to deal with this. But- umm, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t ask for help if you need it. That’s what friends are for. Give Stuart a call. Please.”

“…Okay,” I mumble, grabbing my phone from my dressing gown and dialling my mentor’s number.

“Hi Ian!” Stuart says, answering the phone after the second ring. “You’re up early today, is everything okay? …Ian?”

“I- I’m in trouble,” I mumble, trying my hardest not to cry again.

“What’s happened?” Stuart asks.

“It- it’s my- my dad,” I stammer. “He- ugh. He’s suing me.”

“Suing you!?” Stuart asks. “What the hell for?”

“Ugh, I dunno,” I moan. “Emotional distress, fraud-“

“Fraud!?” Stuart says, before letting out an angry sigh. “You’ve told me about your dad before, how he was a useless wimp…”

“Well, seems like he’s grown a pair,” I sigh. “Ugh, pun NOT intended.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Stuart sighs. “Mate, I’m at work all day today, I’m not going to be able to get away… Come down to Heavenly Talent. We’ll talk about it face-to-face, I’ll try to get some free time. DON’T panic about this. I know you, you haven’t done anything wrong, your dad’s just being a bully because- I dunno. Just come down to the HT office, I’ll call Jamie, see if she can come down as well. Nikki’s still in America otherwise I’d have called her too, I know she’s had some legal issues recently. Just- just come down to the office, mate. We’ll sort things out.”

“…Thanks,” I whisper, before ending the call.

“Well?” Lee asks.

“He wants to talk to me face to face,” I reply.

“Probably a good idea,” Lee says. “Do- d’you want any breakfast?”

“I’d probably just throw it up seconds after eating it,” I sigh. “I- I’m going to hit the shower, then I’m going to head straight out.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” Lee asks, smiling sympathetically as I shake my head.

“I’ll be okay,” I whisper.

“You’re sure?” Lee asks, making me pause- the answer to his question is obviously ‘no’, but I’ve burdened him enough this morning, and I know he still has coursework to do…

“I’m sure,” I say, heading to the shower before getting dressed in a very plain sweater and pair of old black jeans.

Not long afterwards, I’m on the tube heading into the centre of London, toward the head office of Heavenly Talent. My head is still spinning from the letter, how and why my father could sue me, and for such a large sum of money, too- growing up, he was barely a feature in my life, he was so busy with his work, or arguing with my mum, or cowering before my grandmother… The last time I even saw him, I punched him to the ground, something that no doubt contributed toward him deciding to sue me…

I replay the punch in my mind with every tube stop that my train passes, and as I do, I feel my anguish and distress slowly start to give way to another, more powerful emotion- anger. Anger toward the man who was not just emotionally distant but probably emotionally retarded all throughout my childhood. The man who would often go weeks without exchanging a single word with me, even when I lived in his home. How dare he! How dare he sue me for ‘emotional distress’ when throughout my childhood, I got more emotional support from a stuffed giraffe than I did from him! What gives him the right to influence my life in any way, shape or form, when for the first sixteen years of my life, I was little more than an ornament to him!?

I take several deep breaths to calm myself as I walk into the plush, modern reception area of Heavenly Talent, somewhere I’ve been before and that always caused me stress and anxiety thanks to the constant presence of my mother at the back of my mind. For today, however, I have to ignore that feeling, as hard as that might be.

“Hello, how can I help?” The young receptionist asks as I approach.

“Hi, I’m here to see Stuart Milton,” I say, frowning as the receptionist smiles sympathetically at me.

“I’m afraid Mr. Milton is booked out for the day,” the receptionist says, before frowning in confusion as I don't walk away.

“He’s expecting me,” I say. “He WILL see me. Tell him Ian Freeman is here.”

“O-kay…” The receptionist says, clearly taken aback by my firm attitude as she types into her computer. “…Mr. Milton will see you now, he’s in his studio, just through those doors on the left.”

“Thank you,” I say, before turning and walking purposefully through the marked double doors. I only get a few steps before I see my mentor poke his head out of a side door.

“Hey, man,” Stuart says, walking up and giving me a supportive pat on the arm. “How are you doing?”

“Dunno whether to cry, scream or punch a hole in the wall,” I reply, earning a sympathetic smile. “Ugh, I- I dunno. Nineteen years of neglect and now this? Does dad even think that I have 22 grand just lying around?”

“I dunno, mate,” Stuart says. “Do you have a lawyer, or a solicitor?”

“No,” I moan. “Doubt I could afford one, anyway…”

“Well, there-“ Stuart says, before pausing and grimacing.

“…What?” I ask.

“You won’t like it,” Stuart says in a low voice. “I know you won’t…”

“At this point I’m open to anything,” I say.

“Heavenly Talent retains the services of a London lawyer, a good one too,” Stuart says. “Her name is Janet Bean, and she mostly deals with things like copyright and licensing- like if Out of Heaven record any cover versions, that sort of thing- but she occasionally does things like this too.”

“Well, great!” I say. “Why wouldn’t I like that?”

“Because she only represents people signed to Heavenly Talent,” Stuart says with a sigh. “If you’re signed to the agency, or work backstage, like me, and you need her help, Joshua Benedict will cover all the fees. If you’re not, though, she’d be expensive. REALLY expensive.”

“I’m not signed to Heavenly Talent, though,” I remind my friend.

“But I know JB has offered you representation in the past,” Stuart whispers as I feel a familiar feeling grip my stomach and twist it into knots.

“But- but he wouldn’t sign me if I was only using him for his lawyer,” I stammer. “He- he’d-“

“He’d honour the offer he made you months ago,” Stuart says. “He’s a very generous, honourable man. A philanthropist, even, but- but not a charity. If you’re signed, he would expect you to work as well. But he’d absolutely get Janet Bean to help you out, and believe me, she’d trash this lawsuit with one hand tied behind her back.” I feel my breathing start to become shallow as I ponder the dilemma in front of me. On the one hand, I could try to fight dad’s lawsuit by myself, get tied up in legal issues for months, potentially trash my uni studies and even my life if I lose, but on the other hand, I could sign for Heavenly Talent, get this all sorted out for me and get decent paying part-time work too- all for the price of selling my soul, becoming the one thing I dreaded all throughout growing up, and proving that my mother was right all along…

“I- I need to think about this,” I say, my hands trembling with anxiety.

“Take all the time you need,” Stuart says. “Well- that said, you will kinda need to make a decision soon. Tell you what, my sister- my older sister, not the singer- she works in finance, but she knows a lot of London based lawyers, ones she went to university with. I’ll send her a message, see if she can recommend one you can afford on a student’s budget. Ian… Even if you win the lawsuit, this could well get expensive. And I think that’s what your bullying father wants.”

“I know,” I sigh. “And if it was just, you know, a few hundred quid, I’d let him win, but-“

“I know,” Stuart says sympathetically. “I- umm, I’ve kinda got to get back to work now, but I’ll message Emma when I can. And don’t forget about Joshua’s offer, I’m sure he’ll honour it. He hates bullies more than anyone I know, and if this ‘emotional distress’ bullshit is based on what I think it is…”

“Thanks,” I whisper.

“Call me any time you need to chat,” Stuart says. “And keep me updated about this. I don’t like people victimising my little brother.”

“Thanks,” I chuckle, before exchanging a gentle, but still manly hug with my ‘big brother’.

“Talk soon, mate,” Stuart says softly, before turning and returning to his recording studio.

As I head out of the office and back toward the tube station, I can’t help but muse that in my desperation to be away from my mother, I’d all but forgotten that my ‘father’ and his mother still lived in London. They were such an unimportant part of my life, one I thought I’d permanently cut out, like a tumour, that it never occurred to me that the ‘tumour’ could grow back. Still, at least London is also home to my REAL family- to Stuart, to Jamie, to Laura and all the other friends I’ve made over the last few years.

I arrive back home in a much calmer mood than when I left this morning- something that relieves Lee, at least- and as Stuart promised, a few hours later he sends a long Facebook message with details of local solicitors who might be able to help me out. I take a few minutes to ponder whether to call one of them, or to bite the bullet and take Joshua Benedict up on his implied offer, but in the end I make the call, and I spend almost an hour speaking to a junior solicitor, a young man named Ross, about the situation.

A few days later, I’m sitting in an office alongside Ross, dressed in my best suit, my smart black shoes polished, my face shaved clean and my usually scruffy hair combed to perfection. On the outside, I am the picture of professional poise and calm, but on the inside, all of my organs are dancing around my ribcage- a dance that intensifies as Craig Walker enters the room, accompanied by his lawyer-a much older and better-dressed lawyer than my own, I can’t help but notice.

“Good afternoon,” the old man says in a very deep received pronunciation accent. “Let me begin by introducing myself, my name is Richard Cahill, I shall be representing Mr. Walker in these discussions.”

“I’m Ross Michaels, I’ll be representing Mr. Freeman,” my solicitor says, and I can’t help but fidget at the angry look my father gives me at the mention of my real title and my real surname.

“We are suing for the recovery of lost earnings spent on activities throughout the defendant's childhood that the defendant willfully abandoned without consulting Mr. Walker. We are also suing for emotional distress caused by the defendant leaving the household without any prior warning, essentially abandoning Mr. Walker.

“Obviously, we will contest all of these points,” Ross says. “Particularly the ‘emotional distress’ claim. As I’m sure you’re aware, gender identity is a protected characteristic under the Equality Act and not legally actionable.” All throughout Ross’s reply, I keep my eyes fixed on my ‘father’, who grows angrier and angrier with every word my solicitor says.

“We know,” Richard replies. “That’s why we’re not suing on those grounds.”

“Then what exactly is it I’m supposed to have done?” I blurt out, my anger levels rising to match Craig's. “How am I supposed to have ‘emotionally distressed’ you?”

“YOU KILLED YOUR GRANDMOTHER, YOU LITTLE SHIT!” Craig bellows, making me freeze in my chair. I’ve heard him shout at mum several times in the past, but he’s never been THIS angry...

“I- I’m sorry?” I ask in a meek voice.

“You should be,” Craig growls. “Your grandmother, my mother, the greatest mother who ever lived, died on the 5th of December. Though of course you wouldn’t know that, because you’re too selfish to care! The doctors said she died of a heart attack, but what she really died of was a broken heart- broken because of your selfishness!” I sit back in stunned silence as my father rants, stunned as I have difficulty believing that we're talking about the same woman.

“Craig,” Richard says, temporarily pacifying the angry man before turning back to face my solicitor. “Your client’s actions can be shown to be a direct cause of my client’s mother passing away. If your client had not abandoned Mr. Walker, it would not have distressed his mother to the extent that she passed away, and Mr. Walker would therefore not have suffered emotional distress as a result." My jaw drops open as I try to process what I'm being told- I'm somehow responsible for the death of a woman I've had hardly any contact with in over two years and who had pre-existing health conditions? I take several deep breaths to convince myself that this isn't some kind of sick twisted nightmare, and that this is actually happening...

"I'm going to need to consult with my client," Ross says in a quiet, hesitant voice- obviously, he's as baffled as I am. I hope he is, anyway...

"We'll be right outside," Richard says, escorting my father- whose eyes stay fixed on me the whole way- out of the room. Whatever Ross thinks about the lawsuit, my father's obviously taking it VERY seriously...

Once the door is shut, though, my solicitor lets out a long sigh and turns to face me.

"...This lawsuit is bogus," Ross says bluntly. "Cahill knows that. Hell, even your father might, on some level. I'm convinced he's doing this out of malice, or spite, and there we have an edge. Malicious prosecution IS grounds for a countersuit." My heart rate slows down for the first time since entering the building, though I know a certain three-letter word is coming... "But."

"I knew there was going to be a 'but'," I sigh.

"It's not going to be a quick process," Ross says. "Cahill works for a VERY rich law firm that have a lot of resources that they can spare to prosecute this nonsense, and that's what I think your dad's aim is. I'm guessing he's friends with Cahill or someone else at the firm, or they owe him for business, or something, I dunno. But if we're going to win this countersuit, we're first going to have to negotiate a mountain of legal red tape. And it's going to take time. Lots of time. And you will need to face interviews, depositions... I doubt it'll ever go before a judge, but-"

"But be prepared for my life to suck for the next few months," I moan.

"I can't make this go away quickly," Ross sighs. "Not if we want to win this countersuit as well." Why are you so focussed on the revenge when we haven't even dealt with the first lawsuit yet? I think to myself.

"What if I don't counter-sue?" I ask.

"Ian, do you want to let your father get away with bullying you?" Ross asks, smiling sympathetically as I'm forced to shake my head. "The only way we can win is by counter-suing. But-"

"That word again," I sigh.

"Malicious prosecution is something not easy to prove," Ross says. "That might even take more time than getting rid of this lawsuit."

"Is there any way to just get rid of this quickly?" I ask. "Ugh, never mind, I know what the answer will be..."

"Yep," Ross sighs. "The only way out is to cough up the 22 grand. Even if we try to settle for a lower amount, even a pound lower they'll send in an army of lawyers. And we won't get to counter-sue either, because we've admitted liability."

"So my only options are a 22 grand debt, or months of my life being shit?" I ask.

"I'm afraid so," Ross says as I slump back into my chair. Just when I thought my life might be looking positive, just when I was finally gaining control of my anxieties, the universe comes up and kicks me in a part of the anatomy that I'm even allowed to possess yet. Am I ever going to have a stress-free existence?