Byline
Copyright © 2021 Peregrine
All rights reserved.
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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Note: You may be interested in reading what could be considered the prequel to this story. Casey's Halloween is the story of C J's first time dressing as a girl to help out his sister and her friends win a contest. While it is not necessary to read it, that Halloween night is mentioned in this story.

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Not again. I wish they would stop doing this. The look on his face was barely enough to make it worthwhile.

"I didn’t know. Hey, I'm sorry man. They told me… Really, C J, I'm sorry."

Jim from purchasing walked away from my desk as fast as he could without running. If there had been a door on my cubicle, I’m sure he would have run into it. I sighed. Jim is a nice guy. He had come over to ask if I wanted to go out after work. Maybe get a drink and something to eat. We could talk and get to know each other. I couldn't blame him for wanting to try. It was the guys in Purchasing playing a prank on a new employee or intern. Someone in Purchasing would have told him I had been asking about him. Someone would say I had mentioned he was cute adding I might want to get to know him. They would have told him I was shy. Maybe even said I was still a bit of a tomboy. It would be quite a build-up. He would have believed everything they told him. They all do. What they wouldn’t tell him is… I’m a guy.

I’m not what you would call a poster boy for masculinity. My slight build, shoulder-length copper hair, beardless face, and the fact I’m androgynous has people always trying to decide if I'm male or female. They mostly error on the female side. You would think I would be used to it. Even though it's something I’ve come to expect, it still bothers me. Other than my hair being long, and in a low ponytail, it’s not like I try to look feminine. People don’t see me for the guy I am. Nature didn’t give me the masculine build I hoped puberty would bring.

It's been like this ever since I was young enough to care. I was frequently called Miss Casey Jean Cummings in school. Yeah, my parents named me Casey Jean. Casey isn’t that bad. I don’t mind it as much as my second name. Everyone pronounces it the American way. My second name is pronounced like “Shawn” as in Jean-Claude Van Damme. Mom always liked him.

I was constantly being mistaken for a girl, especially when my sister and I were together. I hated it when I would get a girl's toy when we went for fast food dinners. My parents were always correcting people. Sometimes my mother would let it slide. I would get mad and complain. She would smile and tell me this was not the time to fight that battle.

It wasn’t as bad in college. I had a few short-lived and non-serious girlfriends. I did find a group of friends, Amy, Matt, and Jo. We were together from our freshman year to our senior year. We still get together when we can. We all stayed in the Philadelphia area. I studied journalism in college and went on to get my master’s degree.

Bringing me to my current job. I was excited to be working at the magazine. My first year here has been great. Everyone in my department knows I'm a guy. I'm still waiting to get my first important feature story with my byline but I know that will come. As an embarrassed Jim was walking away, my manager, Jennifer Norton, stopped by my desk.

“We’re going to lunch in half an hour. Get yourself ready,” she said.

“No problem, boss,” I said. Our department goes to lunch together every Friday. It’s another thing I like about working here.

~~0~~

A half-hour later, Jennifer and I walked to the elevator where Cindy and Rita were waiting. “Where the guys?” Jennifer asked.

“They’re in with Mr. Wallace,” said Cindy. “They told us to go on ahead and they will meet us there.”

It was a short walk to the restaurant. I held the door as Cindy went in first and right up to the hostess. “Reservation for Cindy.”

The hostess checked her sheet. “Yes, right this way ladies.”

I cringed and rolled my eyes. Damn it. I’m not dressed like a woman. I decided to keep my mouth shut. I think Jennifer noticed my reaction but didn’t say anything. We got settled at the table and ordered our drinks. The guys got there as our drinks were served.

The conversation is always lively around the table at our Friday lunches. Over the appetizer, Cindy Clayton let us know of an article idea she had proposed to management that morning. Cindy took a sip of her diet soda and put the glass down.

"I tell you, men do not know what women have to go through to go out on a date," she said. "They think women just throw on a dress and they're ready to go."

"That's what I do," Chad said. Everyone looked at him. His face turned beet red as he realized what he had said. "I mean I throw on a pair of pants and a polo shirt, not a dress." The guys gave him some good-natured ribbing.

"See what I mean? That's the opinion of 80%, maybe 95%, of the guys out there. The article would be about what a woman goes through to get ready for a date."

"How about getting ready for the day, period," said Rita. "I mean guys don't think about whether they need to shave their legs before work or cover them up with a pair of tights or pants."

"Hey, I have to decide to shave my face every morning," Brian said.

“Sure, but if you decide not to, you can tell everyone you're growing a beard. No one cares if a guy comes in with a hairy face, but if a woman came in with hairy legs..." Rita let the thought sink in. “And how about makeup? Do you have to worry about putting on makeup in the morning?”

The ladies continued to make their case. I sat there listening. Cindy and Rita made some good points. I never thought about what a woman has to do to get ready for the day, for work, for school, or for a date. I had seen my sister getting ready for a date. It always did seem like a lot of work. I thought it might make an interesting story. Being the newest of the group, I kept quiet and listened.

~~0~~

My sister and I had decided to go to our weekly dinner that night. She worked closer to the restaurant and usually arrived first. I met her outside and we walked up the three steps as a couple of patrons walked out. It was early. The restaurant was not crowded.

“Table for two ladies?” asked the hostess.

I cringed again as Abbey said yes and we were taken to our table. We settled into our seats. Abbey noticed my discomfort.

“I didn’t think being mistaken for my sister bothered you that much,” she said.

“It still does a bit. Especially today.”

“Okay, what happened?” she asked

“The guys in Purchasing got another new employee to try to ask me out. Then when we went to lunch the hostess there did the same thing as here,”

“Purchasing did it again? I’ve told you to report them to HR.”

“It’s okay. It’s just annoying.”

Abbey's eyes looked over the top of her menu at me. “With an attitude like that, maybe you should be wearing a skirt.”

“Hey,” I said. Her comment startled me.

“C J, you need to stand up for yourself more.”

I stared at my menu. “Let’s change the subject.”

“Okay, how’s the job going? Any idea as to when you’ll get your first feature assignment?”

~~0~~

Monday afternoon my desk phone rang. The display showed it was my manager Jennifer.

“C J, I want to see you in my office,” she said.

“Be right there.” I hung up and sat there for a moment. I began to wonder if I had done something wrong. I got up to go to her office and knocked some papers from my desk to the floor. I picked them up and headed to her office. I tapped on the glass window on her door and she waved me in.

“Sit down C J.” I made myself as comfortable as one can when sitting across from the boss.

“I was told purchasing sent another employee over to your desk to ask you out the other day.”

I sighed. “Yeah. It’s nothing.”

“C J it is something. It could be considered harassment,” she said. “Why don’t you report it to HR?”

“It’s their employee they are harassing, not me. I guess you could say I’m the prop. The only part that bothers me is that the guys they send over actually think I’m a girl. It’s been like that all my life. I’m mostly used to it. The other day, it got to me. I wish people could see me as me.” I stopped to take a breath, “It’s frustrating. I don’t try to look like a girl. Even now, when I go out to dinner with my mother and sister or like lunch on Friday, the hostess usually says, right this way ladies. I don’t dress like a woman, I dress like a guy, but people still see a girl. It wears on me. I mean, how can I know who I am when everyone around me can’t tell what I am.”

“C J you shouldn’t look to others to find out about yourself,” Jennifer said. “You find yourself by looking within. You shouldn’t care how people see you. That doesn’t matter. What matters is how you see yourself.”

I knew Jennifer was trying to help. I frowned. “I see myself just fine. It’s other people that are the problem.”

“If the situation with purchasing starts to bother you. I will have HR talk with them.” She paused. “Let me get to the reason I asked to see you.” She opened a folder and put it flat on her desk.

"Am I in trouble?" I asked somewhat sheepishly.

She laughed. "No, not at all. I want to hear what you thought of Cindy's article idea.”

“The idea she talked about at lunch on Friday?” I said. "I thought it was interesting. I’ve never considered what women go through to get ready for the day. I’ve seen my sister getting ready. She always did seem to do more than I did. I’d always tease her about the time it took her to get ready. It would be interesting to find out what a woman does to get ready for a date."

“Are you interested enough to help with the article?”

My eyes lit up. “Am I? Sure! Do you mean it?”

“Yes, I mean it.” She smiled. “I think you’re ready for a feature article. This one especially.”

“I’ll do whatever I can.”

“Let me talk with Don and Cindy.”

“Thanks!” I said. I got up and left the office feeling good about myself. Back at my desk, I wondered who I would be interviewing for the article

~~0~~

The month dragged on as it does when you’re waiting for something. Jennifer hadn’t mentioned Cindy’s article idea since our meeting. I wanted to ask but I didn’t think it was my place. I figured the article idea was dead. Even though I was disappointed, I took some solace in the fact they had considered me for the article. Hopefully, I’ll get the next one. I continued to do my work and I put the whole thing out of my mind.

~~O~~

I returned to my desk after dropping stuff off at the artwork department. Sitting on top of a pile of mail was a note from Jennifer asking me to see her. I picked it up and went to her office. I knocked on her door.

“You asked to see me?” I asked as I stepped into her office.

“Yes, sit down. Close the door."

I got nervous when she said that. Is closing the door to your boss's office ever good?

“From our discussion a while back you mentioned being mistaken for a girl bothers you. I’ve seen your reaction at some of our lunches..”

I sighed. “Yeah, sometimes.”

“Sometimes?”

“Okay, more than sometimes. Puberty wasn’t all that good to me. I’ve never developed the physique I was hoping for. I can’t tell you the number of times I have been mistaken for Abbey’s sister. People just don’t see me as me.”

“Abbey is your sister, right? Do you have any pictures?”

“Sure.” I brought out my phone and pulled up some photos of my sister and handed it to Jennifer. She studied it for a minute.

“There is no mistaking you and your sister are related. You look very much alike. I can see how people could make that mistake.”

Jennifer handed my phone back to me.

“C J, have you ever dressed as a girl?”

I could feel my face blush. It wasn’t a question I was expecting. “One time at Halloween during high school. One of Abbey’s friends was seriously into Cosplay. She talked the group into being the Sailor Scouts. They ended up needing another person to make the correct number of scouts after one of the girls got sick.” I looked down at the ground before continuing. “I was talked into being Sailor Mars. Everyone thought I was actually a girl that night.”

“So you’ve gone out dressed. Have you done it since?”

“Gone out dressed like a girl? No, only that one time,” I said quickly. I didn't mention I was one of the guys playing female parts in an all-male version of a Shakespeare play in college.

“I’ve heard you mention taking an acting class or doing some acting. Tell me about it?”

“I took some acting classes while in college. I got a part in some plays. I never did get a lead role. I did get some speaking parts. I like the theater.”

She looked down and drummed her fingers on her desk. When she stopped, She looked me in the eyes.

“I told Don of your interest in helping out with the article. The article's idea has changed. It’s evolved. Rather than having a woman write about what women go through on a daily basis, we’re going to have a guy learn what it is like to be a woman. That guy will present as a woman for a year and write about the experience.” She paused and leaned back in her chair.

I filled the ensuing silence. “You want a guy to live as a woman for a year and report on the experience.”

“That’s correct.”

“So I would be interviewing this person and writing the articles?” I asked.

“Not exactly,” she said. I wasn’t sure I liked where this was going. “We want you to write the articles. We also want you to be the guy living as a woman.”

I wasn’t sure I had heard her correctly. “Wait. What? You want me to become a woman?”

“No C J. Not become a woman. Live as a woman. We want you to experience what women go through every day, the pressures society puts on women. Coming from a man, it’ll be quite an article.”

My eyes went wide as the realization of what she was asking of me sank in. “You’re nuts. You want me to live as a woman for a year? I don’t like it when someone mistakes me for a woman. Now you’re asking me to live as one. On purpose. Forgive my bluntness but you’ve got to be crazy.”

“Far from it.” She got up and walked behind her chair. “The thought is if a woman writes the article, it will come across as another woman complaining. It will get brushed aside and filed under hundreds of other articles.” She leaned forward, her arms resting on the back of her chair. “Think of the impact if a guy lives as a woman and goes through those experiences. If a guy feels the pressures society puts on women and reports on it, it could disabuse the idea that women are reacting to some sort of paranoia.”

“I’m not sure I’m the right person for this. I don’t want to be a woman. I’ve never wanted to be a woman. Why not get a guy who is trans-gendered?”

“We don’t want someone who wants to be a woman. We want a guy who will live as a woman and write about it.” She sat back in her chair. “It’s not like you haven’t experienced some of society’s pressures already. You’ve said it yourself, most people see you as a woman. How does it make you feel when purchasing plays their prank? You are experiencing what a woman goes through when being asked out. Society’s pressures on women are affecting you also. In the article, you would be writing about what a woman goes through but from a man’s point of view. It’ll be a powerful article. Best of all, it will be the feature story. It'll have your byline.”

“I don’t know about this. I don’t know if I want to do this,” I said. I slumped back in my chair. Jennifer sat up and opened a folder on her desk.

“You said you like the theater, you like acting. Think of this as finally getting your lead role.” She smiled. “We’re not going to just give you a dress and say here, start writing your article.” Her eyes scanned a page in the folder. “You will be given an intensive, month-long training on how to present as a woman. The instructor is well-known and teaches actors to portray women on stage and in movies. You will be prepared to present as a woman to the world.” She closed the folder then continued.

“I know this is a lot to take in. I want you to keep an open mind. There are quite a few perks built into this assignment.” She patted the folder. “I’ll tell you about them if you decide to take it.” I started to say something. A shake of her head stopped me. I don’t need an answer now. Take time to think about it. Get back to me in a day or so.”

I left her office and went back to my desk. Our conversation was playing through my head. What the fuck is she thinking? The magazine wants me to live as a woman. They want me to present as a woman for a year, intentionally. A year! I don’t want to live as a woman. She said it’ll be the feature story with my byline. I could think of nothing else for the rest of the day.

~~O~~

My conversation with Jennifer was still on my mind when I got home. I remembered the first and only time, other than the theater, I ever presented as a girl: that Halloween with my sister and her friends. In costume and makeup, everyone said how much I looked like my sister. I almost wimped out. I didn’t want to go out. I didn’t want to be seen in the short-skirted costume. Once out, I had a great time as one of the girls. Halloween is only one night. This would be a year. Why would I agree to this? Why am I even thinking about doing this? I kept coming back to what Jennifer said. It would be the feature story. It would be my byline. Could I live as a woman for a year?

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Thanks for reading. If you are interested, my story 'Casey's Halloween' is the backstory to the Halloween event mentioned in this story.

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Cover picture Credits
Photo by Daria Sannikova from Pexels
Photo by Valeriia Miller from Pexels
Photo Composite by Peregrine
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