"Steve?" My mum calls me from downstairs. "We're heading out now. Don't forget you've got that job interview later on today!"

"I won't forget," I shout back from under my bed covers.

"Well you'll need to hurry up and get dressed for it!" Mum yells back before heading out of the front door.

"You don't know how right you are," I mumble as I get out of bed and stare at the dishevelled youth in my mirror. Staring back at me is a skinny nineteen year old boy with long, scruffy brown hair wearing loose boxer shorts and a t-shirt. However, he won't be staring back at me for long. Grinning nervously, I dive underneath the shower, thoroughly cleansing my body and treating my hair with vast quantities of shampoos and conditioners so that when I'm done, it's no longer messy, but straight and glossy. I take my razor and eradicate what little facial hair I have, before turning my attention to my arms and legs, shaving off every single hair below my neck (with the exception of my pubic hair).

After drying myself, I head back through to my bedroom, where I open one of my wardrobe drawers and stare at the contraband within. I pull out tubes of foundation, tubes of mascara, an eyeliner pencil, two different shades of silver eyeshadow and three different red lipsticks, all of which I apply to my face. From the neck up, the scruffy boy is gone, replaced by a sexy, glamorous teenaged girl. I open another drawer in my wardrobe and withdraw a plain black bra and panty set, slipping the delicate items on my slender frame, before filling the cups of the bra with C-cup breast forms I'd secretly purchased weeks before. After pulling an elasticated girdle around my waist, I roll a pair of black tights up my legs, followed by a tight black miniskirt, finishing by pulling on a tight grey jumper and a cute pair of sparkly black flats. After brushing my hair out to maximise its volume, I slip two silver rings on my fingers before grabbing my coat and my handbag and heading out the door into the cold February morning.

"Stephanie Abbott for the WIN!" I whisper to myself.

My destination today is a small studio in central London. It's far from the first time I've ever been outside in girl mode, but it will be the furthest I've ever gone, and the longest time I've ever spent 'as Stephanie'. After a nervous tube ride where I pray I don't get 'made', and am thankful that Oyster cards don't have people's names on them, I step through the front door of the studio to be greeted by the receptionist.

"Hi," I say in my practised feminine voice. "I'm Stephanie Abbott, here for the auditions?"

"Abbott," the receptionist says, looking at his list. "Oh, here you are, right at the top of course! Please take a seat, Miss Abbott." Whilst the young man behind the desk is very professional, I couldn't help but feel his gaze on my body as I walked away from him, taking a seat on one of the very comfortable chairs.

"Hi," a girl with short blonde hair- who looks barely sixteen- says immediately after I sit down. "Is- is someone sitting next to you?"

"No," I reply with a genuine smile. "It's yours if you want it!"

"Thanks," the girl replies nervously. "Are you here for the auditions?"

"Yep," I say, my heart beating faster. "You?"

"Uh-huh," the nervous teenager replies. "I'm Kayla, Kayla Ford."

"Steph," I reply, shaking the young girl's hand. "Steph Abbott."

"I heard that Jamie-Lee Burke will be one of the people conducting the auditions," Kayla continues. "Do- do you reckon there'll actually be any transsexuals auditioning?"

"Would that be a problem if there were?" I ask cautiously for fear of what the girl might say.

"Problem?" Kayla replies. "It'd be AWESOME if one of the girls in the band was transsexual. We'd be, like, proper Angels if that was the case!" I smile at the mention of the reality TV show that made Jamie-Lee famous- a show I watch almost religiously.

"We don't need to be transgendered to be Angels," I say smugly, confident that Kayla is unaware of my 'true' gender. "We just need to be girls. Regardless of how we were born!"

"Yeah, that's true!" Kayla giggles. I pause briefly, wondering whether or not Kayla has 'made' me, before allowing myself a brief smile- she clearly has no idea I'm not 'like her'. I briefly entertain the notion that Kayla herself might be a girl 'like me', but given that she's barely five feet tall, I quickly shrug off the notion.

"Do you know what you'll be singing yet?" I ask the tiny girl.

"'Show me Heaven' by Maria McKee," Kayla says. "Been practising for weeks..."

"Bit, you know, brown-nosey, isn't it?" I giggle. "I mean, this agency is called Heavenly Talent..." I grimace as Kayla shoots a withering stare at me, before breathing a sigh of relief as she giggles at my 'faux pas'.

"Maybe a LITTLE," Kayla laughs. "But I really, really want this... What are you singing?"

"'Shake it Off' by Taylor Swift," I reply. "I've kinda also been practising for weeks!"

"Kayla Ford?" A slim, brown-haired man with a clipboard announces from the side of the reception area.

"Wish me luck," Kayla whispers with a shaky voice, before disappearing behind the double doors, only to emerge five minutes later with a look of near shell-shock on her face. She just has enough energy to beam me a quick smile before leaving the studio. I spend the next twenty minutes running through my chosen song in my mind over and over again, before I hear the sound that almost makes me wet myself with nerves.

"Stephanie Abbott?" The same man from earlier calls. With my legs barely able to support my weight, I slowly walk over to the man, who shakes my hand and leads me through the same doors through which Kayla- and several other young women- walked not that long ago.

"Hi, my name's Stuart Milton," the man says by way of introduction. "I'll just explain what'll happen, you'll stand in front of our panel, sing your song, we'll be recording it but the recording won't be public, that's just so we can rewatch it later. You're singing Shake it Off, is that right?"

"Yeah," I whisper, making Stuart chuckle at my obvious nerves.

"No need to be so terrified," the young man assures me. "This isn't the X-Factor, there's not going to be anybody booing you. And unlike Simon Cowell, everyone in there will be on your side, I promise you that."

"Who will be on the panel?" I ask, hoping not to have asked a sensitive question.

"Myself, as main producer for the band," Stuart says. "Joshua Benedict, who owns the agency, and two faces I'm guessing you're familiar with- Krystie Fullerton, who'll be the main choreographer for the band, and Jamie-Lee Burke, who'll be taking the band 'under her wing' so to speak for the first few months you're together."

"Cool," I say as I enter the room to face the people whom Stuart had just described- people I'm already familiar with through reality TV, especially Jamie-Lee Burke, who is possibly the most famous transgendered woman in the whole of the UK, and someone who I've admired for a very long time.

"Hi," Jamie-Lee says in a cheerful, friendly voice. "You're Steph, right?" Almost struck dumb with stage fright, I nod and let out a barely audible 'uh-huh'.

"Stu's already explained what will happen at this audition," Jamie-Lee continues. "So just relax, take your time, and try not to be TOO nervous, okay?"

"Okay!" I say with a smile as I take my place under the large boom microphone.

"Recording," Stuart says, keying instructions into his laptop. "Whenever you're ready." I take two deep breaths, before launching into the song.

"I stay up too late," I sing in a voice that I've recorded many, many times and know to be convincingly feminine. "Got nothing in my brain. That's what people say, mmm, that's what people say, mm..."

Within three minutes, the song is complete and I'm practically hyperventilating through nerves.

"Very good!" Joshua- a large, imposing dark-skinned man- booms in a foreign-sounding accent. "Definite superstar in the making! On your way out make sure reception has an up to date telephone number in case we need to contact you for a second audition!"

"Thanks," I say, leaving the audition room and breathing a long, deep sigh of relief. It's over. The challenge I'd set myself- go outside for a full day as Stephanie and attend a musical audition- has been completed, and it was a roaring success. Even though I'm almost certainly not going to be picked for the band, I now know that I CAN do this. I HAVE done this. Hell, I might even find work as a drag act.

"Mum?" I ask as I open the front door of my home. "Dad?" Satisfied that I'm alone, I quickly head up to the bathroom and wash away the make-up I'd carefully applied mere hours earlier. My eye shadow, my lipstick and my mascara all vanishes, and my sleek, voluminous hair get mussed into the unkempt style that's been my signature for the last few months. I strip off my skirt and my top, before pulling off my underwear and standing in front of the bathroom mirror, completely naked.

"See you later, Stephanie," I say with a twinge of sadness, even though I know 'Stephanie' is always available at a moment's notice.

'Stephanie' has been part of my life for almost six years now, ever since I started puberty, I found myself obsessing over girls... But the obsession was with what it'd be like to BE a girl. Whenever my parents weren't around, I'd slip into my parents' room and fiddle with my mum's clothing, eventually mustering up the courage to try some on- though those sessions were always short-lived, and nowhere near as 'comprehensive' as today's day out as Stephanie.

I left school at 16 with a handful of GCSEs, the best of which was an A in music, so I signed up for a music college and got myself my first part-time job working behind the till in HMV. The work was repetitive, but it did give me an income of my own- half of which went on music and video games, the other half on my first 'contraband'. I still remember the first time I bought a packet of tights from my local supermarket. Even though I was using the self-service checkout- and buying it along with other stuff so as not to look suspicious- I was still scared stiff that someone would look over at me and question why I was buying ladies' underwear. As I walked out of the supermarket with no one even looking twice at me, I got as big a thrill as when I pulled the tights on later that night. Amazon and eBay accounts soon followed, and now I have a large drawer filled with women's clothing- a drawer I return my skirt and top to before pulling on a plain pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Washing the clothes can be awkward, but is usually easy enough as my parents are away a lot for work and my two older brothers no longer live at home. Plus, the alternative- buying new underwear every time 'Stephanie comes for a visit'- really isn't feasible given my current unemployment.

It's not even like I want to be Stephanie all the time (though there are days when I wish I'd been born a girl)- there are times when I actually enjoy being Steve, having the freedom to not care about my appearance, to eat what I want, to wear the slouchiest possible clothing... But Stephanie is always at the back of my mind, and I find myself counting down the days until I can become her once again.

After doing a quick job search on my parents' computer, I switch on my Xbox and play a few quick matches of Destiny to relax- the second of which I am in the middle of when my mother returns home.

"Oh, god, Steve," mum moans. "Please tell me you haven't been playing computer games all day..."

"No, I went to the interview," I sigh.

"I hope you actually combed your hair before you went," mum moans further. "Don't know why you don't get a haircut, you'll be much more likely to get a job that way..."

"In the music industry?" I retort. "It's the one place where my hair will actually HELP me get a job."

"Well, I guess," mum says. "And you have at least had a shave. What job did you say you were going for again?"

"Umm," I hesitate, quickly thinking of a plausible story. "Roadie."

"Well I guess looking like that WOULD help there," mum laughs. "Though with all due respect, I've seen roadies, and you're not quite as, well, muscular as them, not quite as masculine, if you don't mind me saying..." You don't know how right you are, I think to myself with a smirk. Mum is, of course, right- at 5' 6" and just under nine stone, I'm not going to win any Mr. Universe competitions. Then again, I never plan on entering any of them...

After my parents go to bed, I log onto their computer again and do another job search- this time, for places hiring drag performers. Much to my disappointment, research shows that most performers are self-employed- which I can't really afford to do right now- so I delete my internet history, log off and climb into bed, dreaming of my next 'Stephanie day'.

Two weeks pass in which I apply for yet more jobs- and even attend an interview at an independent music store- but to no avail. As my parents are home most days, Stephanie also goes into 'hibernation' for the time being- the closest thing I get to a session as Stephanie is after my parents go to bed and I can pull on a girly item of clothing- ANY girly item of clothing- before I head to bed myself.

However, on Tuesday 24th February- two weeks to the day after I attended my audition- I receive a phone call that changes my life forever.

"Hello?" I say into my mobile in my normal, deep London accent.

"Hello, can I speak to Stephanie Abbott, please?" The woman on the other end of the phone asks, making my eyes go wide with shock.

"Uhh," I blurt, surprised that someone would be calling STEPHANIE. "Hang on a sec please..." With my father looking quizzically at me, I quickly head out of the living room and up to my bedroom, where I clear my throat and adopt the same feminine voice I'd used throughout the interview.

"Hello, Stephanie speaking," I say in my convincing falsetto.

"Oh, hi Stephanie, it's Ella from Heavenly Talent calling," the woman announces. "We're holding second auditions for the band this week, would you be able to come down today at any point?" I nearly drop my phone with shock as I'm asked the question I never in a million years thought I'd be asked.

"Umm," I say with a shaky voice. "Today's not really good..."

"Oh, no worries," Ella says. "Just thought as you were local, you know. Can you do tomorrow at noon? We've not really got that many free times, had to book in those who had to travel a long way first..."

"Um, sure, noon sounds great!" I say, my heart slowly returning to its normal pace.

"Great!" Ella beams. "Just a heads up- this'll be a second audition, not an interview, so just turn up in casual clothes, but if you get an interview after, you'll be expected to wear formal clothing, like you would to any job interview."

"Okay!" I practically squeak as Ella hangs up the phone. Noon tomorrow!? That's barely enough time to get ready- and I don't even know what mum and dad have planned for tomorrow...

"Who was that, Steve?" Dad asks as I trudge back downstairs.

"Uhh, interview!" I say happily.

"Great!" Dad says. "When is it, and who's it for?"

"Noon tomorrow," I say. "Just for a shop..."

"Well it's better than nothing," dad says. "I've got tomorrow off, I can drive you if you'd like?" Crap! I think to myself.

"No, it's okay," I say. "It's right in the centre of London, I know you hate driving through the city centre..."

"No, I don't mind if it's just a one-off," dad says. "And it's not like it's at rush hour or anything..."

"Honestly, I'll be fine," I insist. "My Oyster Card needs using up, after all..."

"Umm, Oyster credit doesn't expire," dad says, clearly confused by my reluctance to let him drive me.

"I'm also going to see Greg before the interview," I lie, name-dropping an old school friend with whom my dad's familiar.

"Oh, okay," dad says. "Just as long as you don't waste too much time playing videogames before the interview!"

"No, no chance of that," I laugh as I try to formulate a plan in my mind, a plan that still isn't complete as I go to bed. I know that on a day when they're not working, my parents won't be up until about 8am, so I want to be up and gone before then. That'll give me four whole hours in which I'll need to 'be Stephanie'- something which should be a dream come true, but is instead a total burden. Changing back after the interview won't be a problem- a disabled toilet at any McDonalds will do the trick, and I can carry my 'boy clothes' and make-up remover around in a backpack.

"Or you could just tell your parents the truth," I sigh to myself as I close my eyes and try to get to sleep. However, deep down I know that that is simply not an option. Every time anything any even remotely transgendered topic enters conversation dad becomes uncomfortable. He's not outright hostile, but it's clear that he'd rather pretend that the topic simply didn't exist. Mum's much the same way- she even refused to watch Eurovision last year because the Austrian singer- who of course, ended up winning- was a drag artist. God only knows how she'd react if she found out the job I'm REALLY applying for...

My alarm clock wakes me at 7am and, satisfied that I haven't woken my parents, I quickly shave- not showering for fear of making too much noise- and pick out an outfit for the audition. The woman at the agency said 'casual clothes', so I after pulling on a bra and a pair of panties (stuffing the bra cups with my breast forms), pulling on my girdle and applying a full face of make-up, I roll a clean pair of black tights up my legs before stepping into a short denim skirt, pulling on a tight black top and slipping my feet into my cutest flats. I write a quick note for my parents- who are still asleep- before stuffing my make-up remover, a pair of 'Steve's jeans and a t-shirt into my backpack and heading out the front door, satisfied that I haven't been seen by any neighbours and that phase one of my plan is complete. However, it's not even 8am yet, meaning I have four hours to kill before my audition...

Rather than call the agency and ask for an earlier audition, I instead take the opportunity to have a stroll around central London, partly to sightsee (I don't get into the heart of the capital that often) and partly to test 'Stephanie's look- by which I of course mean 'test to see if anyone sees the boy beneath'. I do get the occasional odd stare from strangers as I walk past them down the crowded streets, but most people barely pay attention to the average-looking girl with the backpack- and if they do, it's usually just men checking out the nylon-covered legs poking out from underneath her short skirt.

Just after 10am, with 2 hours still to go until my audition, I get hungry (having skipped breakfast), so I head to a nearby coffee shop for a sandwich, when I get one of the biggest shocks of my life.

"Stephanie?" A familiar-sounding voice calls me from behind, sending my heart into overdrive. Never did I imagine I'd be recognised on this trip out- let alone recognised as Stephanie.

"Stephanie Abbott?" The voice asks, and I slowly turn around to stare into the smiling face of the girl I met two weeks ago.

"Kayla?" I ask in a deliberately feminine voice.

"I knew it was you!" Kayla squeaks happily. "Oh my god, did you get a second audition too?"

"Uh-huh!" I say enthusiastically, making the short blonde girl bounce up and down excitedly.

"Eee, this is so cool!" Kayla squeaks. "When's your audition?"

"Noon," I say, grabbing my drink and heading to a table with Kayla.

"Had a long way to travel too?" Kayla asks sympathetically.

"Nah, just from Ealing," I giggle, making the blonde girl frown with confusion.

"Umm, why are you in London THIS early then?" Kayla laughs. "You don't like sleeping or something?"

"Heh, no," I say, faking a laugh as I desperately try to think of an excuse. "I kinda... Don't really get on with my room-mates, that's all."

"Ah, that sucks," Kayla sighs. "I've come up from Southampton on the 8:30 train, thought I'd do a bit of sightseeing first, try to calm my nerves, heh!"

"I know what you mean," I giggle, before taking a deep breath. "Kayla... What you said at our first interview, about transgendered people auditioning for the band..."

"Yes..." Kayla continues. "You- you wouldn't have a problem with that, would you?"

"It'd be a bit hypocritical if I did," I whisper to Kayla, watching anxiously as her jaw drops with shock. At the first audition, she DID say that she thought it'd be awesome if one of the girls in the band was transgendered, but that was just a hypothetical scenario, whether or not she'd approve when confronted with it is another matter entirely...

"No. Way!" Kayla gasps. "You? But- but- you're cute!" I giggle bashfully as Kayla pays me an unexpected- and in my mind, at least, unwarranted- compliment.

"Thanks, you're not bad yourself," I tease.

"No- ugh, you know what I mean," Kayla sighs. "You're not, like, even remotely masculine!" I bristle a little- even though Kayla clearly intended it as a compliment, it IS a little insulting...

"Thanks," I laugh. "I've only been transitioning for a month..."

"But you've obviously been thinking about it longer," Kayla muses. "Your hair..."

"Yeah, all my life," I giggle as I play with my shoulder-length hair.

"You know," Kayla teases. "If Jamie-Lee picks you over me, it will be pure favouritism, right?" I giggle girlishly with the tiny girl as we both finish our drinks and head to the nearest tube stop.

"My mum would probably have a fit if she knew I was getting on the tube," Kayla sighs. "She's convinced the second I set foot on here I'll be robbed and raped..."

"She needs to learn that you're an adult now, and can do what you want," I blurt, wincing a little in case Kayla feels that I'm insulting her mother.

"That's just it, I'm only seventeen so I'm technically NOT an adult, not yet..." Kayla sighs. "Also an only child..."

"I've got two older brothers," I say. "28 and 25, so a lot older than me, I know what it's like being the baby of the family, heh."

"That must've made it easier when you came out, knowing that there are two other boys and no other girls," Kayla muses.

"Yeah," I say, though in truth I'd never thought about it that way before- my parents always loved me and my brothers equally, I was never the 'spare' to my older siblings, but still, if I DID choose to live my life the way I wanted- whether that's as Steve or Stephanie- it's not like the 'family name' or 'family genes' would be under threat... And maybe they'd even like having a daughter after almost three decades of just boys...

As we arrive at the studio for the audition, I find myself unconsciously gripping Kayla's hand for support as we enter the reception area.

"Hi," the short blonde girl says to the receptionist. "Kayla Ford, here for the auditions?"

"Yep!" The same young man from two weeks ago says with a smile. "I remember you from last time- I'll let them know that you're here. You too, Miss Abbott!"

"Thanks!" I giggle as I take a seat with my new- and 'Stephanie's only- friend.

"Whilst we're waiting," Kayla says, taking out her phone, "do you have Facebook? I'd love to keep in touch after the auditions, even if we don't get into the band..."

"Um, no I don't," I say hesitantly. "No Facebook... Kinda had a bad reaction from, um, friends after I came out... I deleted my profiles, didn't bother setting a new one up..."

"Ah, that really sucks!" Kayla spits. "There are some real idiots in this world..."

"Kayla Ford?" Stuart shouts from the side of the room before I have a chance to reply. I smile at the nervous girl as she smoothes her short pink dress and follows the young man into the audition area.

"Knock 'em dead!" I say, making Kayla giggle nervously as she disappears from view, only to return fifteen minutes later looking physically and emotionally exhausted. I smile at her, assuming she's going to leave, only to frown in confusion as she plops herself back down next to me.

"Turns out we're auditioning for three spots," Kayla explains. "There are two girls who are already signed to the agency who are the 'core' of the band, we're kinda auditioning for the 'backup' spots."

"Cool," I say confusedly. "Umm, why are you telling me this, you know, 'giving secrets to the enemy'?"

"We're hardly enemies!" Kayla giggles. "Yes, we're going for the same spots, but like I said- there's three available... And it'd be really, REALLY cool if we both got one!"

"Yeah, I guess," I laugh. "Though if I don't get on, I'll be sure and keep an eye out for you in all the papers and magazines!" Kayla giggles excitedly, though our opportunity to chat further is curtailed when the man with the clipboard returns.

"Stephanie Abbott?" Stuart shouts.

"Good luck, future bandmate!" Kayla giggles as I stand up and follow Stuart into the audition room.

"Getting friendly with Kayla, I see?" Stuart asks.

"Yeah, we met at the first audition, then bumped into each other before this one," I reply.

"Ah, coincidence," Stuart laughs. "OR she knows that the most famous group to come from this agency were successful because they were all friends beforehand, and she wants to emulate that success..." A bit cynical, I think to myself. Could sweet, tiny, seventeen year old Kayla be THAT Machiavellian?

"Heh," I giggle as I follow Stuart into the audition room, where the three people (four including Stuart) have been joined by two new faces- a young woman around my age (who bares more than a passing resemblance to Stuart) and a tall, strikingly beautiful dark-skinned girl.

"Stephanie Abbott!" Joshua booms as I take my place underneath the microphone. "So glad you could come back for a second audition! I hope you have taken the advice of the first song you sang and shaken off your nerves!"

"I have!" I half-lie. "I, um, haven't prepared a second song, though..."

"That's fine, as we have!" Joshua laughs. "These two lovely young women on the end of the desk are the two lead singers around whom the band will be formed. My niece, Adeola-"

"Hi," the dark-skinned girl says in a soft, friendly voice.

"-And Stuart's sister Rebecca," Joshua continues.

"Hi!" Rebecca says, before standing up and joining me under the boom microphone.

"This audition will be a duet," Stuart explains as he fiddles with his laptop. "We already know that the first song we'll promote for the group will be a cover of Belinda Carlisle's 'Heaven is a Place on Earth', so you'll be singing that with Becca, assuming she can keep up with you."

"Oh shut up, you arsehole!" Rebecca playfully teases her brother as I smile awkwardly.

"I'm not a hundred per cent familiar with that song," I confess.

"That's okay, there'll be lyrics on the screen in front of you," Stuart says. "Sorry we're doing this karaoke style- obviously if you make the band, you'll get plenty of rehearsal time!"

"In between all the celebrity parties, anyway!" Rebecca giggles. "Ready?" To sing a song I've never sung before, in a voice that DOESN'T come naturally to me, in front of five strangers in a duet with a professional singer?

"Ready as I'll ever be," I say, taking several deep breaths to calm my nerves. My left leg starts to shake as the blank screen in front of me fills with words, and as the marker hits the first word, I try my hardest to make my voice the most feminine and tuneful it's ever been in my entire life.

"Ooh, baby, do you know what that's worth?" Rebecca and I sing in perfect harmony. "Ooh, heaven is a place on Earth. They say in heaven, love comes first. We'll make heave a place on Earth, ooh, heaven is a place on Earth..." Four minutes later, at the end of the song, I feel like I'm about to die of both dehydration and hyperventilation, when Krystie- one of the judging panel- rushes over and hands me a bottle of water.

"Now I know why you call you an 'Angel'!" I say, making the tall blonde woman giggle appreciatively as she sits back down.

"We'll contact you for the formal interview next week," Jamie-Lee says, making notes on her own laptop. "That will just be to get to know you better, you won't have to sing at that, I promise!"

"Okay," I say, before taking another deep breath. "About that... I kinda have a limited wardrobe..."

"Just wear a pencil skirt and a blouse if you don't have a full suit," Jamie-Lee shrugs. "Though I'd be surprised if you didn't, you ARE nineteen and I assume applying for jobs?"

"Yeah..." I say, before sighing heavily. "The reason my wardrobe is limited is because..." I pause before continuing my sentence. If I explain that I'm a crossdresser, a wannabe drag queen, it'd be almost like I'm cheapening the journey Jamie-Lee herself took to becoming a woman.

"...I'm a pre-operative transsexual," I say. I'm so unlikely to get a spot in the band, one little white lie surely won't hurt, right? Much to my relief, all six people on the panel simply smile warmly.

"Well obviously, we're not going to hold THAT against you," Jamie-Lee laughs. "Though I'm surprised you felt the need to leave it off your application form..."

"There wasn't anywhere to put it down," I shrug.

"Um, yeah, there kinda was," Jamie-Lee giggles. "The 'medical history' section? Where we also ask you if you're on any medication, the anti-androgens and oestrogen you're taking count there as well!"

"Oops," I giggle, playfully rolling my eyes. "Guess it's just become second nature to me..."

"How long have you been transitioning?" Jamie-Lee asks, before being abruptly cut off.

"Jamie! Save it for the interview!" Joshua playfully reprimands the beautiful transgendered woman. "That's why we're having the interviews then, rather than now, when we're against the clock!"

"Sorry," Jamie-Lee bashfully giggles. "We'll be in touch. Look forward to getting to know the REAL Stephanie better!"

"Yeah!" I laugh as Stuart escorts me out of the room.

"I've got to hand it to you," the young man says, "you really are passable, though the other pre-op transsexuals we auditioned actually remembered to put it on their forms so we knew what to look for..."

"Sorry," I say. "Again!"

"At least we know about it now rather than later," Stuart laughs, before turning his attention to the rest of the reception area. "Abbey-Gayle Simpson?" I sit down next to the waiting Kayla as the next auditionee follows Stuart out of sight.

"So," Kayla asks. "How did it go?"

"Okay, I think," I sigh. "Kinda glad it's over!"

"For now!" Kayla giggles. "What you got planned for the rest of the day? I've got ages until my train, figured we could grab some lunch?" I briefly pause before answering, mindful of Stuart's earlier 'advice'. Sure, Kayla seems like a fun girl, but I'd hate to think that she was using me to increase her own chances- and I do need to find a way to get out of 'Stephanie mode' and back into 'Steve mode', which I can't do if Kayla's around...

"Umm, I should really get home..." I say.

"Thought you said you didn't get on with your room-mates?" Kayla asks. realising I've left myself no way out of this conversation, I simply shrug my shoulders and concede defeat.

"You're right," I giggle. "Got anywhere in mind?"

"Saw a small place a couple of streets away," Kayla says, opening up a map on her smartphone. I fake a smile as I follow the tiny girl out onto the streets of London. By now, I've been in 'Stephanie mode' for four and a half hours, and it's beginning to feel like I'll never get back to being Steve again.

After a quick lunch, over which I learn a little more about Kayla (born in Southampton in Late 1997, sang in the school choir from an early age) whilst divulging some facts about my own life- some of which obviously have to be fabricated, but some, including my relationship with my brothers, are 100% true.

It's almost 2:30pm- seven hours after I entered 'Stephanie mode'- by the time I bid farewell to Kayla at Waterloo station. As I'd promised myself earlier, I quickly locate the nearest McDonalds and, after ordering myself a small coffee, head into the disabled toilets, stripping out of 'Stephanie's clothes and removing my almost caked-on make-up. The whole process takes a lot longer than expected, thanks to the length of time the make-up has been on my face, and when I leave the toilet, I wince as I get several judgemental stares from the patrons of the fast food restaurant. Whether it's because I'm an able-bodied person using a disabled toilet or because they saw a woman go in and a man emerge, I can't say, but I still make a point to leave the restaurant as soon as humanly possible.

"Hi Steve!" Mum greets me as I stumble through the door at 3:30pm, utterly exhausted from the day's events. "Interview go well?"

"Yeah," I say. "They're going to call me again in a couple of days."

"Well that must mean it went brilliantly, then!" Mum enthuses. "Did you say it was for a shop?"

"Oh, um, yeah," I say. "Where's dad? Thought he was off today..."

"They're offering overtime, so he went in," mum explains, making me curse under my breath- I know for a fact mum only got in herself less than an hour ago, so I could've been home- and been Steve- a LOT earlier.

"He doing overtime for the rest of the week?" I ask.

"Yeah," mum sighs, making me inwardly cheer- it'll make getting out for the interview so much easier. "I'll be home all tomorrow and Friday, though." Crap! I think to myself.

"I hardly need babysitting," I joke, hoping that this will persuade mum to take extra shifts at work.

"I should hope not!" Mum laughs. "But this place is getting filthy, and god knows YOU'RE not going to clean it any time soon..." I sigh heavily- I hate housework, but if I can persuade mum to give me the house to myself- or rather, give the house to Stephanie- it'll make life so much simpler.

"Tell me what needs doing," I laugh, grabbing a duster and a can of Pledge.

"Okay, who are you, and what have you done with the REAL Stephen Abbott?" Mum jokes.

"He's hoping that this will get you off his back about very occasionally relaxing by playing on his Xbox!" I laugh, making mum giggle and roll her eyes.

"Do the living room, the upstairs window sills AND do a job search, and I'll let you have the TV the rest of the day!" Mum laughs. "Can always catch up on TV tomorrow and Friday..." I let out a silent scream as I start my dusting- all this hard work will potentially be for nothing.

Sure enough, when I wake up at 7:30 on Friday morning, mum is still in the house, but thankfully, still in bed. I'd received a phone call the previous day inviting me in for an interview at 10am today, meaning that immediately after I wake up, I head into the bathroom to shave (and remove any stray body hairs), before returning to my room, hastily pulling on a bra, a thong and a pair of black tights, followed by my smartest black pencil skirt and the opaquest white blouse I own. With mum already stirring in her bedroom, I don't even have time to bother with any make-up, instead stuffing my boy clothes and make-up remover into my backpack, before grabbing my only smart pair of high-heeled shoes and heading out the front door. I've left another note explaining my early start, though I'm now kicking myself for having not made it even earlier as I walk down the street with my face devoid of even the tiniest trace of make-up. With time running short before my interview, I duck into the nearest ladies' public toilet.

My heart races as I get out my make-up and apply it to my face- foundation first, followed by mascara, eye shadow and finally my deepest red lipstick. Unlike the disabled toilet fiasco on Wednesday, no one would look twice at a long-haired figure in a pencil skirt and high heeled shoes ducking into a ladies' toilet, but deep inside, I know that I don't truly belong here, and I complete my business quickly for fear of being 'found out'.

After assuring myself that my make-up is immaculate and there's no way I could be perceived for what I 'really am', I head straight to the tube- still wobbling slightly on my heels- and report to the reception desk at Heavenly Talent, just as I'd done twice already.

"Morning, Miss Abbott!" The receptionist says, greeting me as though I was an old friend. "Here for the interviews?"

"Yep!" I say happily, disguising my internal weariness at the situation. As I take a seat, I briefly consider just walking out of the interview- I've accomplished everything I wanted to by auditioning for this band already. I've proved that I can pass as a woman- well, for 99% of the population, anyway- I've proven that I can sing professionally (I wouldn't have got the second audition if I couldn't)- what more do I need to accomplish? It's not like I can actually join the band, live a double life as Steve at home and Stephanie in the band, like a sort-of cross-dressing Hannah Montana...

"Hi," a skinny girl with ginger hair says, snapping me out of my daze.

"Oh, um, hi," I say as the girl sits down next to me, uninvited.

"Mentally preparing yourself for the interview?" the girl- who has a VERY thick Scottish accent- asks as she smoothes her short pencil skirt underneath her. In her not-quite fitting suit, she looks almost as uncomfortable as I am...

"Yeah," I lie. "I'm Steph, Stephanie Abbott."

"Lauren McTavish," the girl says. "Have you come far?"

"No, just from Ealing," I say, before allowing myself a quick smirk. "I'm guessing you came a WEE bit further?"

"Just a WEE bit, aye!" Lauren giggles, deliberately exaggerating her already-strong accent. "Ever heard of a place called Dingwall?"

"Umm, not really..." I say, making Lauren chuckle.

"No one has," Lauren laughs. "It's about 15 miles north of Inverness..."

"Good god!" I gasp. "How long did that take you on the train?"

"I flew!" Lauren laughs. "About a third the price of the train and it's an hour and forty minutes instead of ten hours!"

"First time flying?" I ask.

"Aye," Lauren confirms. "Well, the auditions were, anyway. Also the first time I'd ever left Scotland... Can I tell you something secret?"

"Sure," I say to the girl who I've only known for seconds but feel like I've been friends with for my whole life.

"Coming down here for the band, wearing this clothing, this make-up..." Lauren sighs. "I feel silly. Like, SO out of place."

"I know exactly how you feel," I giggle with the flame-haired girl, before a familiar face appears at the top of the stairs leading to one of the building's many offices.

"Lauren McTavish?" The familiar voice of Jamie-Lee Burke calls.

"Good luck!" I whisper to the Scottish girl as she walks up the stairs, clinging to the banister as she proves to be even more unsteady on her high heeled shoes than I was going down the escalators on the Tube. I take the fifteen minutes of comparative solitude I'm granted to compose my thoughts. Obviously, I can't keep up the pretense about being a full time transsexual, especially not if Jamie-Lee- herself a post-operative transsexual- is personally conducting the interviews. I've just about figured out how I'll word my 'explanation' to her when my new Scottish friend returns, once again parking herself next to me.

"That was terrifying," Lauren giggles nervously.

"First job interview?" I ask.

"Aye," Lauren confirms.

"You get used to them," I giggle. "Um, unless you get this job, of course, in which case you'll probably never even NEED another interview!"

"Here's hoping!" Lauren laughs. "I mean, yes, I know my chances aren't any better than anyone else's- and it would mean moving a long way away from home, but the chance to be rich, and famous... And that £10 000 signing bonus sounds REALLY nice!" My jaw drops as Lauren mentions this hitherto unknown aspect of the job.

"Wait, 'signing bonus'?" I ask.

"Aye," Lauren says. "Just to help me get settled down here, money I can put towards rent, expanding my wardrobe... I live on a sheep farm, so not really got a lot in the way of high fashion!"

"Ten grand..." I mutter to myself.

"Do I see pound signs flashing in your pupils?" Lauren teases. "It'd probably be a little less for you as you live locally, but I'm sure they'd help support you whilst you get settled in with the band..."

"Um, yeah!" I giggle, before our conversation is brought to an abrupt end.

"Stephanie Abbott?" Jamie-Lee calls from the top of the stairs.

"Good luck!" Lauren says, watching me ascend the stairs in my heels with only slightly more grace than she managed. When I enter the office, I'm shocked to see that Jamie isn't alone- in addition to her, Joshua Benedict (the agency's owner) is also conducting the interview.

"Stephanie Abbott!" Joshua booms, momentarily startling me. "Please, take a seat!"

"Thanks," I say, unconsciously smoothing my skirt underneath me as I sit down and cross one leg over the other, despite the discomfort that causes my 'area'.

"You really impressed us in your auditions," Jamie-Lee says with a warm smile. "As I said then, this interview is just to get to know the REAL Stephanie better. We've done some background checks on you, and the results have been kind-of odd..." That's unsurprising, given that 'Stephanie Abbott' doesn't legally exist...

"Umm, how so?" I ask.

"Well, for starters, there's no trace of 'Stephanie Abbott' anywhere in the record," Jamie-Lee says in an almost accusing voice. "How long did you say you've been transitioning?"

"Umm, just over a month," I say, repeating the lie I'd told to Kayla.

"Okay," Jamie-Lee says. "That isn't very long, admittedly... Have you legally changed your name?"

"Um, no," I say, my hands starting to shake as I dig myself deeper into my lie. "I'm unemployed, I can't afford it..."

"Guess I sometimes forget how lucky I was at the start of my transition," Jamie-Lee laughs. "We did a search for 'Stephen Abbott', born 23rd January 1996, and it only turned up one result- I'm guessing this will be yourself, right?"

"Um, Stephen with a 'ph', right?" I ask.

"We searched for both ph and v and only found one person," Joshua explains. "Left secondary school aged 16, did a year at music college, only done the occasional job since, usually in music-related shops, no singing experience though?" I take a deep breath, conscious that I don't want to start a fifth sentence in a row with an 'um'.

"I would have thought that my ability would have come through at my audition?" Much to my relief, Joshua simply laughs at my challenge to his question.

"She has fire in her belly!" The large, dark-skinned man booms. "I love it!"

"It's not your ability singing so much as your ability to connect with audiences, the public," Jamie explains. "There's more to being a professional singer, a performer than just raw ability. And as you've only been transitioning for a month, it'd be extra hard for you... How did your parents take the news?"

"Badly," I whisper, earning a sympathetic gaze from Jamie-Lee. "Got kicked out... I now live with flat mates I barely get along with."

"Because you're transgendered?" Jamie-Lee asks.

"No, I think I'm just an asshole," I joke, chuckling with relief as both Joshua and Jamie-Lee roar with laughter.

"I don't think you're an asshole," Jamie-Lee giggles. "I think you're someone who's had a few hard breaks in life, saw a golden opportunity and reached for it as hard as she can... Believe me, I can sympathise with where you are right now."

"Why do you REALLY want to be in the band?" Joshua asks. I take a deep breath, abandoning everything I'd earlier planned to say to Jamie-Lee. If it were just about being in the band, I could take or leave that in an instant, but with the money that's on offer... All I can see is independence, independence from my parents to be who I want, what I want, when I want. The chance to have my own place, to be Stephanie as often as I want... An opportunity like this is once-in-a-lifetime. I CAN'T let it slip through my fingers.

"I want the chance to be myself for the first time in my life," I say, inwardly chuckling as I see both Joshua's and Jamie-Lee's faces softening. "I want the chance to do something I'm both good at and something I genuinely love. When I was Steve... My life was directionless, just one depressing day after another... I just want to be Stephanie now." I see Jamie-Lee's eyes narrow as I paraphrase her most famous quote, and wince slightly- she has the potential to be my biggest supporter, and kissing up to her obviously ISN'T working...

"I want the chance to show the world that this is who I am," I continue. "And I want to show girls- and boys- the world over that they shouldn't let trivial things hold them back from achieving their dreams, no matter how big or how... Grandiose they are. Just be yourself, keep trying, keep striving, and never accept 'no' for an answer!" Jamie-Lee smiles warmly as I finish my spiel.

"'Big' and 'grandiose' kinda mean the same thing," Jamie-Lee giggles. "Otherwise... I think I've heard everything I need to. We'll be in touch- either way, it's been GREAT meeting you- do you have Facebook?"

"Um, no," I say. "Kinda had some bad experiences on there..."

"Ah, that really, really sucks," Jamie-Lee says as she escorts me out of the office. "I would've said I'd friend you on there so we can keep on touch, but-"

"I've been meaning to sign up a new account for a while," I hastily interrupt. The chance to have a national celebrity as a friend on Facebook? That's another opportunity I'd be stupid to decline.

"Okay, cool!" Jamie giggles. "Well, once you're signed up, like my fan page, I'll keep an eye out for your name and send you a friend request. I'd really like to keep in touch with you, Stephanie."

"Will do!” I say, grinning widely as I head down the stairs to where Lauren is still waiting. I also keep an eye out for Kayla, in case she's interviewing today, but there's no sign of her anywhere.

"Went well?" Lauren asks.

"We'll see," I sigh, sitting down to rest my tired legs. "Got a friend request from Jamie, though..." I grin as I see the ginger-haired girl's jaw drop.

"Oh. My. God!" Lauren gasps, taking her smartphone out of her handbag. "That's a really big deal! Here, let me find your profile, I'll add you as well..." I inwardly smirk- from the way Lauren's acting, clearly she didn't get the same 'reward' I did...

"I um, kinda don't have Facebook," I laugh.

"A friend request and you don't even have Facebook?" Lauren laughs. "Why did Jamie offer to friend you anyway? You're not a transsexual as well or anything, right?"

"Well..." I say, making Lauren grimace.

"Oh- really? God, I'm sorry," Lauren stutters.

"Really, nothing to be sorry about," I say, calming the blushing girl's nerves.

"I mean, sorry for implying that the only reason Jamie would want to be friends with you is because you're, you know, 'like her'..." Lauren mumbles.

"Hell, for all I know, it is!" I laugh. "What've you got planned for the rest of the day? Want to grab some lunch?"

"I'd love to, but my flight home is in a couple of hours," Lauren sighs. "Got to get checked in, you know how much of a hassle that is even when you're only flying within the UK..."

"Ah, that sucks," I say, though inwardly I'm relieved as it means I can get back into 'Steve mode' at the earliest opportunity.

"Well, when we're both on the band we can have plenty of lunches together!" Lauren giggles. "See you round, Steph!"

"If I'm ever in Dingwall I'll look you up!" I joke as the flame-haired girl leaves, dragging her travel case behind her. I follow shortly afterward, heading to a different McDonald's than the one I'd used before, where I have my customary coffee and completely transform myself back to Steve.

"Hope that interview went better than the others you've been going to lately!" Mum laughs as I stumble through the front door, dropping my backpack- containing its contraband- in the hallway.

"Seemed to go better," I say. "Not any more confident about it than I am any of the others..."

"Well I AM," mum says firmly. "You've worked really hard at finding a job, it's about time you had some luck!" Luck? I think to myself. Think I've used up all my luck for the year just getting as far as I have in the interview process...

"Mum..." I say quietly. "If- if I do get a job, and choose to move out..." I wince as mum silently closes her eyes.

"It had better be a really good job to afford a place in London!" Mum chuckles. "But I suppose I can't keep you under my roof forever, I'd just have hoped that you'd have waited a while before moving out, just because your brothers moved out before they were 21 doesn't mean you have to as well, and your dad and I do want to keep at least ONE child under our roof for a while- at least until we get grandchildren, anyway!"

"Yeah, well you know who to pester for those, and it's not me!" I joke, earning a playful whack with a cushion from my mum.

"In all seriousness," mum continues, "we can't stop you living your life the way you want to." If only that were true... I think to myself.

Six days pass- during which I have a brief spell as 'Stephanie' when both my parents are out at work- and as far as I'm aware, my adventure at Heavenly Talent has run its course. That is, until I receive a phone call out of the blue just after 4pm.

"Hello?" I say into the phone.

"Hi, may I speak to Stephanie Abbott, please?" The familiar voice of Ella from said talent agency asks.

"Um, uh, hang on," I say, hastily leaving the room, much to my parents' confusion. Once I'm in the comparative privacy of my bedroom, I take two deep breaths before speaking into the phone.

"Hi, this is Stephanie," I say in my falsetto.

"You need to stop letting your flat mates answer the phone for you!" Ella jokes. "It's Ella here from Heavenly Talent, can you come for a second interview tomorrow at 10:30am, please?" I freeze temporarily- both my parents WILL be at work by that time, but it doesn't leave me long to get ready...

"Umm, I can try but it'll be a little tight," I say.

"Oh, that's okay," Ella says. "Can you do noon instead?" I pause briefly, surprised that they'd be so willing to shift things round to accommodate me.

"Um, yeah, noon would be great," I say, already working out in my head the logistics of leaving the house as Stephanie and returning as Steve. Fortunately, both my parents leave the house early the following day, giving me ample time to get ready for the second interview, and when I leave the house, dressed in the same skirt, blouse and shoes as seven days ago and my face as fully made-up as it was then, I have a confidence in my stride I was lacking for my first interview.

When I arrive at the agency, I'm greeted by a sight that almost knocks me backward- the sight of Kayla and Lauren, both dressed in their smart skirt suits, chatting as though they were old friends.

"Steph!" Kayla says, calling me over to be greeted with hugs by both girls.

"Hey girls!" I giggle. "You've met each other, then?"

"Might've met earlier if you'd set up that Facebook account you promised you would!" Lauren teases.

"Yeah, sorry about that," I grimace. "Good flight?"

"As good as EasyJet gets, anyway," Lauren giggles.

"Yeah, it's no Virgin Atlantic or Soixante-Trois," Kayla giggles.

"What time's your interview?" I ask, sitting down next to the two girls.

"Noon," Lauren says, making both mine and Kayla's eyes go wide.

"Same here..." I say, my heart beating faster and faster.

"And me," Kayla whispers. "Do you- do you suppose this is it?"

"They'd have told us over the phone, surely?" Lauren says.

"Unless they wanted to film it for their reality TV show," Kayla says. "You know, 'get our genuine reactions'..."

"Let's- let's just see what they say, okay?" I whisper nervously. Could Kayla be right? Could this, as she says, be 'it'?

Mere minutes later- well before the stated interview time of 12pm- the three of us are called together into the audition studio we'd sang in weeks earlier. Also present are Rebecca and Adeola- also wearing smart skirt suits- along with Jamie-Lee, Joshua, Stuart and Krystie- and a camera crew...

"Ladies," Joshua announces as Kayla, Lauren and I sit down in the chairs that have been provided for us. "It is with great pleasure that I introduce to the world the hottest new girl band: Rebecca Milton, Adeola Benedict, Lauren McTavish, Kayla Ford and Stephanie Abbott: Out of Heaven!"

"OH MY GOD!" Kayla screeches, almost knocking me out of my chair. "Thank you thank you thank you so so much!" Before I know what's happening, I'm bombarded by hugs, not just from Kayla and Lauren but from Rebecca and Adeola as well, and it's only when I'm shaking Joshua's hand that it finally dawns on me- I've won. I'm in the band. My dreams HAVE come true- financial and personal independence are just within reach, they're actually in my hands.

"Obviously there'll need to be plenty of rehearsals and hard work before we start publicising the group," Stuart explains. "But not long from now, your five faces will be on our TV screens, in magazines, on billboards across the city... Every teenage girl will want to be you!" As our producer explains our upcoming schedule, however, my face falls.

Stephanie's face on billboards across London? That's going to be a hell of a thing to explain to my parents...

"Come on, Steve!" My mum yells, waking me from a fitful sleep. "You don't want to be late on your first day at your new job, do you?"

"I'm awake!" I yell downstairs, sighing as I hear the front door slam shut, signifying that I'm alone in the house. I drag myself out of bed and pad to the bathroom, showering and shaving fully, removing any and all facial hair before shaving my arms, legs and chest clean of any stray body hair. I return to my bedroom and apply a full layer of make-up to my face: lipstick, eye shadow, the works. I brush my hair out to its fullest volume, before pulling on a comfortable black bra and panty set, stuffing the bra cups with my breast forms. After pulling an elasticated girdle around my (slim) waist, I pull on a pair of black tights, followed by a tight black miniskirt, a tight grey jumper and my favourite pair of sparkly black flats. After stuffing a change of clothes- a MALE change of clothes- into my backpack and slipping on a pair of silver rings, I grab my handbag and coat and breathe heavily as I leave the house.

"Okay, Stephanie Abbott," I say to myself. "You can do this." After a short tube ride, I find myself at the headquarters of Heavenly Talent, the famous talent agency who are now also my employers. The last time I was here was four days ago, when I was offered- and accepted- a role in Britain's newest girl band... Despite the fact that I'm a boy.

Don't get me wrong, it isn't like I'm being forced to be a girl against my will. I like being a girl. I LOVE being a girl... most of the time. And I'm good at being a girl, too- I discovered last Friday that over six hundred women aged between 16 and 24 auditioned for this role, some coming from as far afield as Ireland and the north of Scotland, and out of that six hundred, I was one of the three chosen. I should be ecstatically happy, like the other four women who are waiting for me in the recording studio... and yet I'm uneasy, even as they greet me like I'm an old friend.

"Hey, bandmate!" Becca- the unofficial 'lead singer'- says, giving me a tight hug as I enter the studio, a hug I happily reciprocate. "Glad you FINALL decided to join us!"

"Sorry," I sigh in my practised falsetto. "Flat mates hogging the bathroom AGAIN..."

"Ugh, just get your own place already!" Adeola- the unofficial 'other lead singer'- insists. "I'm sure my uncle will give you an advance of pay if you ask him..."

"Ladies, please?" Stuart- our main producer- commands. "We need to get rehearsing, we're already behind schedule as SOMEONE doesn't like working Mondays..."

"And miss ballet?" Becca retorts to Stuart- who also happens to be her older brother.

"From the top," Stuart says, laughing wearily at his younger sister's attitude. "One, two, three..." All five of us take a deep breath as the music begins.

"Ooh, baby, do you know what that's worth?" All five of us sing in near-perfect harmony. "Ooh heaven is a place on earth. They say in heaven love comes first. We'll make heaven a place on earth. Ooh heaven is a place on earth..." I control my breathing as the first verse begins, and myself, Adeola, Lauren and Kayla sing the backing vocals as Becca takes centre stage.

"When the night falls down," the dark-haired girl sings tunefully, "I wait for you, and you come around, and the world's alive, with the sound of kids, on the street outside..."

"When you walk into the room," Adeola sings in a rich, deep voice as Becca joins in the backing vocals. "You pull me close and we start to move, and we're spinning with the stars above, and you lift me up in a wave of love..."

"Ooh, baby, do you know what that's worth?" All five of us sing once again. "Ooh heaven is a place on earth. They say in heaven love comes first. We'll make heaven a place on earth. Ooh heaven is a place on earth..." I settle my jaw down as the chorus ends, and it's my turn to sing.

"When I feel alone," I sing, trying as hard as I can to match the standard that had been set for me by the other two girls. "I reach for you, and you bring me home, when I'm lost at sea, I hear your voice, and it carries me..." My 'part' over, I try not to breathe a sigh of relief as I rejoin the backing vocals.

"In this world we're just beginning," Lauren sings in a powerful voice, "To understand the miracle of living, Baby I'm not afraid no more, but I'm not afraid-" The room pauses as Lauren trips over the vocals of the song. "Shit... Sorry..." I can't help but feel sorry for the normally forceful Scottish girl as she cowers under withering gazes from our other three band-mates.

"Don't worry, that's kinda why we're rehearsing!" Stuart laughs. "From the top..." We all take a deep breath as the song restarts, and Becca, Adeola and I run through our parts perfectly one more time, before it comes to Lauren's part. I quickly glance over at the flame-haired girl, who is almost shaking with nerves, and I almost feel relieved- relief that I'm not the only one who's feeling nervous about the situation.

"In this world we're just beginning," Lauren sings in an even stronger voice than she had previously. "To understand the miracle of living, baby I was afraid before, but I'm not afraid anymore!" It's all I can do not to cheer loudly as Lauren grins, having sung her part perfectly. After the brief instrumental part of the song, Kayla steps up to her microphone, and when she opens her mouth, everyone in the room is nearly blown away.

"In this world we're just beginning," Kayla sings in a voice that sounds FAR too strong and powerful for her petite, 5' 0" frame. "To understand the miracle of living, baby I was afraid before, but I'm not afraid anymore!" After a final chorus, Stuart gives us the thumbs-up and we all take a breather and get a quick drink of water.

"Wow, Kayla!" I gush at the tiny girl, who grins bashfully in response to my compliment.

"Thanks," Kayla says in response.

"How do you fit lungs that strong into a body that small?" Lauren jokes, making myself and Kayla giggle as we return to our microphones.

"Okay," Stuart says. "Second take, this time I want Steph and Lauren doing verse 1, Adeola and Kayla doing verse 2, and Becca doing the final repeat. Ready? One, two, three..."

After two hours of singing- in which we all take a turn singing different parts of the song- the five of us are allowed an hour's break for lunch. Immediately as we arrive at the posh bistro Adeola has selected for our lunch, we all order tall, cool- but expensive- drinks to help soothe our sore throats.

"Okay," Becca announces after clearing her throat. "Dream job: yes. DAMNED hard work: also yes!" I giggle along with the other girls- it's far from my first day at a new job, but it's certainly been one of the most fun so far. The fact that I've been unconditionally accepted as 'one of the girls' certainly helps... Even though I know deep down that I shouldn't have been.

"No offence intended," Kayla says, "but is ballet, of all things, REALLY an excuse to skip a day's work?"

"You don't know our teacher," Adeola says smugly.

"But, as she's also our choreographer, you will!" Becca giggles. "She does a private lesson on Monday mornings that I worked my ass off to get into, and I'm not about to give it up now!"

"And besides, it was kinda my fault too," Lauren giggles nervously.

"Ohh yes," Becca says, again diverting attention back to her. "I wasn't going to say anything, but I HAVE read all of your application forms, and I DID notice something interesting about Wee Miss McTavish's details..."

"Yeah," Adeola giggles. "Are you gonna tell them or shall I?"

"Tell us what?" Kayla asks, clearly frustrated at being kept out of the loop.

"Ugh," Lauren moans, resting her head on the table. "It- it was my birthday yesterday, that's all..."

"No way!" Kayla squeaks. "Which one?"

"...Eighteenth," Lauren sighs, making the entire table cheer and applaud- myself a split second behind the other three.

"We've GOT to celebrate!" Becca insists.

"Seriously, I don't want any fuss," Lauren moans.

"No way, you only turn eighteen once!" Adeola laughs. "We are taking you OUT tonight! Steph and Kayla will come too, right girls?" I freeze as the dark-skinned girl puts me on the spot- obviously I can't stay out TOO late, especially not 'as Stephanie'... But I can't decline their invitation without seeming rude...

"Um, I'm still only seventeen," Kayla says apologetically. "Can't really get into any clubs..." I breathe an inward sigh of relief- I'm off the hook...

"Then we'll just take you out on YOUR eighteenth!" Adeola giggles. "Steph?" I desperately rack my brains, thinking of a way out... But none comes to mind.

"Um, sure!" I say happily.

"You feeling okay, Steph?" Adeola asks, suddenly concerned. "It's just you've been kinda quiet all through lunch..."

"I'm fine," I say defensively. "Just... A little overwhelmed, that's all." From the looks of my four bandmates, I can tell that my story isn't QUITE convincing enough...

"...And I'm still having hassle from my flat mates," I sigh.

"Oh- seriously, ask Uncle Joshua for an advance and get your own place!" Adeola laughs.

"Are they giving you hassle because you're- you know...?" Kayla asks cautiously.

"I dunno, maybe a little," I sigh.

"I thought you said they'd accepted you for who you are?" Becca probes, making me start to sweat under the sudden attention being paid to my personal life.

"Um, it's more 'tolerate' than 'accept'," I say, inwardly sighing with relief as my new friends accept my story without question.

"Believe me, I can understand that," Adeola says. "Doesn't matter how successful we'll be, there'll always be people who'll never be able to look past my skin."

"...Or my genetics," I say, sharing a chuckle with the dark-skinned girl.

"Oh, at LAST!" Becca sighs dramatically as she stares over my shoulder at a tall, attractive young man with light blonde hair and striking green eyes.

"Sorry I'm late," the young man says, before approaching our table and giving Becca a long, lingering kiss.

"Riley, these are the girls," Becca says. "Addie you already know, from left right you've got Lauren, Kayla and Steph. Girl, this is Riley, my bae. I shouldn't need to say it, but just in case: HANDS OFF." Riley and Becca both let out a sickeningly sweet giggle as the well over six foot tall man wraps his arms around Becca's slim waist.

"Your choreographer is also my sister," Riley explains. "The whole of Heavenly Talent is run basically on nepotism." Becca giggles at her boyfriend's joke as Adeola playfully rolls her eyes.

"I'll try not to take that personally," Adeola giggles.

"We've just learned that it was Lauren's birthday yesterday," Becca giggles to her boyfriend. "Reckon we should take her for her first night out in London?"

"Definitely," Riley laughs as Lauren moans into her coffee.

"Seriously, there's really no need..." Lauren insists

"No, no, no, you don't turn eighteen and move to London from the North Pole every day!" Becca laughs. "You got a clubbing dress?" I again inwardly breathe a sigh of relief as Lauren shakes her head.

"I'll lend you one, then," Becca shrugs. "We're more or less the same size..."

"Okay then," Lauren sighs, eliciting cheers from everyone at the table. After finishing our lunch, we head back to the studio- but not before I have a chance to talk to our 'lead singer'.

"Umm, Becca," I whisper to the dark-haired girl as we stroll through the cold February air. "I, um, I kinda don't have a clubbing dress either..."

"So... What?" Becca asks. "Do you want me to lend you one as well? I'm not exactly a charity, Steph!"

"No- never mind," I sigh.

"No- Steph..." Becca sighs. "When did you say you came out again?"

"About six weeks ago," I lie. "Just after the new year. I've not worked since, so..."

"I'll lend you a dress," Becca sighs. "But you're washing it AND I get to borrow any of your clothes any time I want, deal?"

"Deal!" I giggle- though Becca has made it abundantly clear how much of an imposition this is to her...

After another couple of hours of singing back at the studio, we're finally told to call it a day, much to our collective relief.

"That's day one over," Stuart laughs. "It can only get better from here. I've got a few notes I want you to take on board: Steph, I've noticed you come in a little early sometimes in the chorus- just keep an eye on that."

"Okay," I say, feeling a little embarrassed to have been singled out in this manner.

"Lauren, I've noticed your voice wavering from time to time," Stuart says. "We'll ignore the incident from the first run-through- it won't happen again." Lauren blushes slightly and nods, as Stuart moves onto our 'lead singers'.

"Addie- you're a little loud at times," Stuart says, making the tall girl frown before nodding. "Volume doesn't equal tunefulness. Becca..." Stuart takes a deep breath as he addresses his little sister- and everyone in the room can sense how awkward the atmosphere has become.

"Yes...?" Becca asks, clearly upset that her brother has anything other than blind praise for her.

"You're a little 'off' in some of the harmonies," Stuart grimaces. "Like you're trying to lead them too much." Becca nods her agreement, but her eyes show that inside, she is utterly livid.

"Kayla..." Stuart says, taking another deep breath. "...Wow. No notes, you just keep doing what you're doing!" I can't help but grin as Kayla giggles happily at the news- but my grin fades when I see that Becca's facial expression has somehow got even darker.

"It's all minor stuff, really," Stuart says with a smile. "Just keep working hard, I'm sure we'll get perfection sooner rather than later. Anyway... I understand you're having a night out tonight, to celebrate your first day as a band?"

"And Lauren's birthday too!" I say, making the flame-haired girl cringe.

"Oh, is it your birthday too, Lauren?" Stuart asks. Didn't Stuart know that was why Becca had suggested the night out? Or did she have one already planned?

"...It was my eighteenth yesterday," Lauren says, eliciting a surprised chuckle from our producer.

"Oh, well happy birthday!" Stuart laughs. "Good job we DIDN'T start you yesterday then! Well, enjoy yourselves, I'll see you back here tomorrow at 10am, assuming you're not all too hungover!" I giggle as the five of us are left to our own devices, and for the first time ever in this job, I actually start to forget about my troubles. For once, I actually believe that I AM Stephanie... and then I switch on my phone, and find three voicemails from my parents asking me to let them know how I'm getting on on my first day.

"Uhh," I splutter, startling my new friends. "I, um, I need to take this..."

"Sure, Steph," Becca says. "Riley's going to be giving me and Lauren a lift back to mine if you still need to borrow a dress for tonight..."

"Sure," I say, hurrying outside into the relative privacy of the service area behind the agency.

"Hi mum," I say into the phone in 'Steve's voice.

"Steve!" Mum says in a near-relieved voice. "Been trying to reach you all day..."

"Yeah, they, uh, don't let me have my phone switched on at work," I say. "I've just finished for the day, a few of my workmates have offered to take me out for a few drinks, you know, to celebrate..."

"As long as you're not too hungover for work tomorrow!" Mum warns me.

"It's my manager who's taking us out," I laugh. "It'll be fine. Just- don't wait up, okay?"

"Okay, okay," mum laughs. "See you tomorrow, I guess!"

"See you," I chuckle into the phone before clicking it off and heading back in to my bandmates.

"Soo..." Becca teases. "Who was so important you couldn't talk to them in front of your bandmates?"

"Umm," I stammer. "Just... Just someone about a flat... It won't be free for another month." Dammit, Steph- no, wait, Dammit, Steve, stop lying all the time...

"Ah, that sucks," Adeola sighs as we head outside into our respective transport home. "Well, see you tonight!"

"See you," I say as I slide into Becca's boyfriend's car. Riley quickly whisks the three of us back to Becca's house, which makes my jaw drop as I enter it- the place is almost a palace, with at least four bedrooms, a conservatory, a HUGE kitchen...

"Glad you two approve!" Becca giggles as she leads myself and Lauren up to her bedroom- which is at least three times the size of my tiny room, not counting her en-suite.

"Who is your dad, Alan Sugar?" Lauren asks.

"No, but he's worked with him in the past," Becca boasts. "Before he retired last month he was a manager at one of London's biggest investment firms. This isn't even our only house!"

"Jesus," I mouth as Becca flings open one of her wardrobes. It becomes immediately apparent that Becca's reluctance to lend me a dress isn't down to her having a limited wardrobe- she turfs out at least ten for my and Lauren to pick from, citing them as 'ones she hardly wears any more'. Obviously, she also picks out several dozen for herself to pick from, and disappears into her en-suite as Lauren casually disrobes in front of me.

"I'm having the short halter-neck one," Lauren says, taking the dress and changing into it. I try to subtly avert my eyes and Lauren casually unclips her bra and tosses it on Becca's floor next to my backpack, before tying the tiny dress around her neck.

"What are you being so squeamish about?" Lauren giggles. "They're just tits. ADULT tits now, so you've got nothing to worry about from Yewtree. AND you've got a pair yourself, haven't you?"

"Umm... Not really," I say, pulling down the neck of my jumper to show Lauren the falsies inside my bra.

"Ahh... Shit Steph," Lauren sighs. "Sorry, sometimes I forget... Just shows what a 'good job' you're doing, heh! I'm sure Becca's got a dress on here you can wear a bra underneath... This one!" Lauren giggles as she hands me a high-necked dress that I just about squeeze my girdle-enhanced figure into, before sitting down at Becca's dresser and applying more make-up to her face. I do the same after Lauren finishes- though as all I have is powder and lipstick, I stick out like a sore thumb next to the exquisitely made-up Lauren and Becca- something the older girl can't help but comment on.

"We're gonna need to get you that advance if only so you can get some proper make-up!" Becca teases as she leads Lauren and myself downstairs- both of us still wearing the flats we wore to work whilst Becca has, of course, changed into 5" stiletto heels.

"We're off out now daddy," Becca says, giving her elderly father a kiss on the cheek. "Don't wait up!"

"Don't be in too late!" Becca's father grumbles. "You've only just got this job, you don't want to lose it on your second day!"

"Oh please," Becca giggles. "They can't fire me- they wouldn't dare!"

"Well- just take care, okay?" Mr. Milton sighs as the three of us- along with Riley- get into our waiting taxi and head to a local nightclub, where we stay until just after 11pm. After leaving the club, the four of us (along with Adeola, who we met there) get into a taxi to get dropped at our respective homes. After we drop Adeola at her posh home, I start to give directions to the taxi driver when I remember a large problem- not only did I tell my new friends that I lived in a flat, rather than a house, I also can't be 100% sure that my parents aren't still awake... And my male clothes are still back in Becca's bedroom.

"Uhh, Becca?" I say cautiously.

"What now?" Becca asks with playful mock-exasperation.

"I, um, kinda left my bag at your place," I mumble.

"So?" Becca giggles. "I don't mind bringing it in tomorrow, is there something in there that you need?"

"Yeah, my house key," I say, thinking quickly and congratulating myself on my answer.

"Oh, you dumbass!" Becca playfully teases.

"Might as well pick my clothes up as well, can drop off our dresses too..." Lauren suggests.

"Oh, no, no no," Becca giggles. "STEPH still needs to get them cleaned!" I chuckle and roll my eyes as Becca gives directions to her house, where I change back into the clothes I was wearing earlier, before carefully folding Becca's dress and placing it on top of 'Steve's clothes in my backpack. As Lauren's hotel and my house are in opposite directions, I let Lauren get back in her taxi before calling for one of my own- but not before a quick chat with my 'lead singer'.

"Thanks for tonight," I say, trying my best to sound contrite. "I did really enjoy it."

"You sure?" Becca asks accusingly. "You seemed distracted a LOT..."

"It..." I giggle. "It was kinda, you know, 'Steph's first night out'." Much to my relief, Becca simply smirks in response.

"First of MANY," Becca says confidently. "And the first of many nights out for Out of Heaven!"

"Once we're ALL old enough, anyway," I giggle.

"What do you mean?" Becca asks as we head down to her large entrance hall. Ooh, you snide bitch... I think to myself.

"Um, Kayla?" I ask, making Becca playfully giggle and roll her eyes.

"Duh, silly me!" Becca giggles. "Hope she didn't feel TOO left out... She'll just have to get older quicker, won't she?"

"Not sure it works that way," I laugh as I get in my taxi. "See you tomorrow, Becca!"

"See ya, Steph!" Becca giggles. As the taxi pulls away from Becca's mansion, I let out a large sigh, happy that the day is FINALLY over. I've been 'Steph' for almost fifteen hours- by far the longest I've EVER spent as my 'alter ego'- and as much as I enjoy the whole experience of being a girl, my tolerance is wearing thin. I almost cry with relief when I see that all the lights are off at my house as the taxi pulls up outside- no need for an emergency detour to McDonalds and then yet ANOTHER taxi home. Once I'm safely in my bedroom, I FINALLY strip out of Stephanie's clothes and remove all my make-up, before collapsing on my bed in a plain white t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts.

"What the hell am I doing?" I whisper to myself as I close my eyes and try to get to sleep. I've only been in this job one day- one solitary day- and already I'm mentally and physically exhausted from trying to keep up with the web of lies I've spun for myself. I'm lying to my parents, to my employers, to my bandmates- my friends... I'm even lying to myself in as much as I don't know WHAT the truth is. Am I Stephanie? Am I Steve? Am I both? Am I neither?

The sensible thing would be to come clean to my employers tomorrow, tell them that I'm not transitioning- well, not yet, anyway- and back out of the band now before it becomes too much of a hassle to replace me. I don't even get on with all of them, anyway, especially not her Royal Highness Becca... But I can't face a single day longer on the unemployment line, and the money, dear god the money is SO good...

My alarm clock wakes me at 8am, and I drag my tired body out bed, showering and shaving before pulling on my grey dressing down and heading downstairs, where my parents are already waiting for me.

"Morning, working man!" Mum beams. "Heard you get in last night, hope you're not TOO hungover!"

"Didn't drink that much," I laugh as a sweet-smelling cup of coffee is thrust under my face.

"Well get that down you anyway," dad laughs. "Going to be strange, you being the only one going into work today..."

"Stranger for me than for you," I retort, making both my parents chuckle.

"Seriously," dad says with a warm smile. "I AM proud of you. It's not easy, getting a job in this economy, no matter what Cameron or that dickhead Iain whathisface says, but I knew you'd manage it sooner rather than later."

"Thanks, dad," I say with a smile, whilst inwardly cursing. Looks like I've got no chance of leaving the house as Steph...

Ninety minutes later, I step out of the disabled toilet at a nearby McDonalds with a face full of make-up, translucent black tights on my legs underneath a tight black skirt and a tight red jumper cover my girdle and breast form- enhanced torso. Much to my irritation, I'm once again the last to arrive at the recording studio- though today I am at least on time.

"Ah, so you've come back for a second day, then?" Stuart teases as I grab my headphones and join my bandmates inside the recording booth.

"Hey Steph!" Becca says with a smug smile. "Got my dress cleaned yet?"

"When exactly am I supposed to have had time to do that?" I retort, making Adeola laugh heartily- clearly people don't stand up to Becca that often...

"And is that the same skirt as yesterday?" Becca asks, clearly not wanting to be shown up.

"I own more than one black skirt," I retort.

"Girls!" Stuart barks down his microphone. "Can we try to get some work done today, please?"

"Sorry," Becca and I simultaneously mumble into our microphones, before Stuart plays his music track and we spend the next two hours singing- in addition to 'Heaven is a Place on Earth' we also sing a couple of Girls Aloud tracks for practice, before Stuart lets us all out for lunch. The track list on our first album hasn't been decided yet, so Stuart says he'll have us sing as many cover versions as possible to see which ones suit us best, in addition to the new songs he's written for the band.

Before I grab my coat and prepare to follow the other girls to another posh eatery for lunch, my attention is drawn to a familiar face entering the recording studio- that of Jamie-Lee Burke, the woman who'd interviewed me for the spot in the band and, as is obvious from highly familiar the way she greets Stuart, our producer's lover. Not wanting to interrupt the couple, I follow my bandmates to lunch, wincing as they all order £8 cups of herbal tea and large, expensive sandwiches. I make the same order- not wanting to stand out from them- but these expensive lunches are quickly draining what little money I have left, and there's not a whole lot in my bank account either...

"So which song did you three audition with?" Adeola asks as we sit down with our lunches.

"Didn't you watch the recordings?" Lauren asks.

"Yeah, but there were, like, hundreds," Adeola says. "Can't expect us to remember them all!"

"Not even the three most important ones?" I joke, making the dark-skinned girl giggle.

"Hang on, I'll try to guess," Adeola jokes, turning her attention first to Lauren. "You... Will have sung a song by a Scottish band, right?"

"Aye, Texas," Lauren nods.

"Say What You Want?" Adeola asks, laughing happily as Lauren nods. Adeola turns her attention to Kayla, before Becca returns to the table from the restroom.

"This place was a GREAT pick," Becca congratulates Adeola. "Who recommended it to you again?"

"Hannah," Adeola says with a smile, having apparently forgotten about her 'game'. Talk immediately turns to where we'll go for lunch tomorrow, with Becca and Adeola dominating the conversation until the five of us return to the studio, where we only have another hour's singing before Stuart- at some prompting from his little sister- gives us the rest of the afternoon off. I breathe a sigh of intense relief- it means I can get home before either of my parents, meaning I can avoid another Mrs. Doubtfire-like trip to a disabled toilet. Before I can leave, however, my plans are suddenly thwarted.

"Hey Steph!" Jamie-Lee shouts as I grab my coat, ready to leave. Inwardly cursing, I force a wide smile onto my face.

"What's up?" I ask.

"Do you have a minute or two to chat?" Jamie-Lee asks. Ordinarily, the thought of a famous, successful woman like Jamie-Lee wanting to talk to ME would make me giddy with excitement- but now, with my 'window of opportunity' closing, it's more of a hassle than an opportunity.

"Umm," I say, trying to think of an excuse but ultimately drawing a blank. "Sure!" 5 or 10 minutes surely couldn't hurt...

"We haven't really had a chance to talk since your interview," Jamie-Lee says, leading me into a private office. "How are you settling in with the other girls?"

"Yeah, it's going good," I say.

"Really?" Jamie-Lee asks, instantly seeing through my lie. I let out a small giggle, prompting my 'interrogator' to chuckle as well.

"There is a LITTLE friction," I say.

"Let me guess: you failed to respect Becca's position as 'alpha girl'?" Jamie jokes, laughing harder as I nod. "That girl is so spoiled... Did you never have many female friends whilst growing up?"

"Not really," I say, relieved at being able to tell the truth about my past for once. "Not many friends of ANY description..."

"Believe me, I know how that feels," Jamie says. "Well... You've got friends now! Or at least you will when you FINALLY get around to making that Facebook profile!"

"Yeah, sadly my phone is just 'phone' and not 'camera, computer and everything all rolled into one'," I laugh, showing Jamie my old, half-knackered Nokia. "Can't really join Facebook without a face..." As if on cue, Jamie takes her own, brand-new iPhone out of her bag and snaps a photo of me.

"You do now!" Jamie giggles. "What your email address?" Crap! I think to myself. The only address I've got is 'Steve's...

"It's, umm..." I mumble, before taking a deep breath. "It's [email protected]..." Jamie sighs sadly as I tell her the email address, and I can't help but wince, wondering if this is my career over before it's even begun...

"Oh Steph," Jamie says. "Haven't you even changed your email address yet?"

"I only came out six weeks ago," I argue. "Spent most of the time since trying to get my life in some sort of order, find somewhere to live... Barely even got a wardrobe..."

"Yeah, Stu told me Becca was having a dig at you," Jamie says, before a wide grin creeps onto her face. "Now THAT I can do something about! Get your coat on Steph- we're going shopping!"

"I, um, I don't have any money..." I feebly argue.

"I'm buying, then!" Jamie says.

"I couldn't, really..." I continue, knowing I'm fighting a losing battle.

"I'LL take the receipts, then, and have payroll deduct it from the advance you'll get," Jamie says. So much for getting in before my parents...

"Sounds cool!" I say happily, making Jamie giggle as she pulls her own coat on over her designer dress, before leading me out to her shiny red Alfa Romeo. We spend the next two hours shopping, and for a time I allow myself to forget my 'situation' and enjoy being out- it IS my first-ever shopping trip as Stephanie, and I'm filling shopping bag after shopping bag with skirts, dresses, shoes, even some underwear and cosmetics... But as 5pm rolls around and the shops begin closing, I'm faced with the sudden realisation that I have absolutely no idea how I'm going to get all of my new clothes home- or where I'll store them once I've got them home.

"God, am I going to have any of this advance LEFT by the time I get it?" I joke as Jamie-Lee and I head back to her car.

"Hehe!" Jamie-Lee giggles. "You'll be fine... Can't really see you getting all of these bags in my car, though..."

"Kinda went overboard, didn't we?" I ask, making Jamie-Lee giggle harder.

"I've got it covered, don't worry," Jamie-Lee says, typing a message into her smartphone. "Asked a friend of mine- well, employee, really- to pick you up. She'll be here in a bit." Dammit! I can't go home the way I am... And I can't give them a fake address either as I put my real address on my application form and they're bound to notice if it doesn't match...

"Umm, I can get a taxi, it's really no bother," I say, trying my hardest to avoid sounding desperate.

"Why bother?" Jamie-Lee asks. "Our 'company taxi's already on its way!" I chuckle as I clutch the multiple shopping bags in my hand, knowing that I've lost this argument. "Also- and I don't mean anything nasty by this- but do- do you still shave your face?"

"Every morning, yeah," I reply. "Um, the hormones haven't really had a chance to kick in there yet..."

"They wouldn't do," Jamie-Lee says. "You'd need electrolysis or laser removal to fully get rid of it... Fortunately, I've already spoken to Joshua and he's willing to foot the bill for it, so I can book you in as early as next week if you'd like?"

"I dunno," I say, shocked by the thought of making permanent, irreversible alterations to my body. "Wouldn't- wouldn't that hurt?"

"Only in the very short term," Jamie-Lee says. "Honestly, it really is a benefit, you'd never ever have to shave again..." Truth be told, I DO hate shaving... And if the only permanent change is 'no facial hair', well, there can't be any harm in that, surely?

"Okay, sign me up!" I laugh, making Jamie-Lee giggle happily. Yet another thing I'd have to explain to my parents...

Fifteen minutes later, a Renault Clio, driven by a girl who barely looks eighteen, arrives to pick me up. After dumping my shopping bags on the back seat, I elegantly lower myself onto the passenger seat and greet the driver with a feminine handshake.

"Hi," I say to the dark-haired girl. "I'm Steph, Steph Abbott."

"Nikki Thomas," the girl says with a smile. "Glad to meet you- Jamie's been talking about you a lot!"

"Really?" I ask as we drive away. "We've only known each other for a few days..."

"I think she's just excited at the prospect of having ANOTHER protégé, heh," Nikki chuckles. "And I have to compliment you- you really can't, you know, 'tell'."

"Thanks," I say, still racking my brains over how to 'sneak around' my parents once I arrive home.

"Umm..." Nikki continues. "This is normally the point where you compliment ME, though I guess not saying anything is kinda a compliment in itself..."

"I don't follow," I mumble.

"Jamie having another protégé... As in 'an other' protégé?" Nikki giggles. "That other protégé being me?"

"You're transgendered too?" I ask with an air of surprise- Nikki's body shape is EXTREMELY feminine.

"I'll take THAT as a compliment!" Nikki laughs.

"Perfect," I whisper as an idea suddenly forms in my head. If I can get to know this Nikki girl a little better... Take her out for dinner, maybe a few drinks, then I can get back after my parents are both in bed- problem solved.

"Umm, not really," Nikki says. "I'm still pre-operative, I'd have given anything just to have been born as a girl... I'm sure you can appreciate that, right?"

"Yes, of course," I say. "Umm, this is going to sound odd, but I'd really like to, you know, 'compare notes'... Can't really talk to Jamie-Lee, you know, she's so famous, she's kinda intimidating..."

"Jamie's the least intimidating person in the world!" Nikki laughs. "I'm definitely happy to 'compare notes' though, I'll look you up on Facebook and add you when I get home."

"Umm, I don't have-" I begin.

"You don't have a Facebook, right," Nikki says, finishing my sentence for me. "Right, I remember Jamie saying..."

"Are- are you doing anything tonight?" I ask. "Maybe we could 'compare notes' over a few drinks..."

"Umm," Nikki says in an uncomfortable tone. "I, um, I have a 'significant other'..."

"Oh- um-" I stutter. "I, um, I wasn't asking you out, um, I just wanted, you know, 'as friends'..."

"Heh, okay," Nikki laughs. "Either way, my significant other is kinda the jealous type... If I told her I was blowing off dinner with her for another girl, it would NOT go down well..."

"...And I'd rather not be a third wheel," I say, inwardly cursing as my plan falls apart before it was ever realised.

"Maybe another time," Nikki says with a smile. "Think there'll be a big 'welcome to the Angels' party for you and the rest of the band on Saturday, Sarah and I will both be there so we'll chat then?"

"Sounds good!" I laugh as Nikki pulls up outside my house. Much to my irritation and panic, the living room light is on, and my parents are both clearly inside said room...

"See you Saturday!" Nikki laughs as she drives away, leaving me stood on my driveway, my heart racing and my mind a blur. Making sure my parents don't see me through the window, I sneak around the back of the house to the backdoor- and, much to my relief, both my parents are indeed in the living room. I open the back door- using my back door key- and before mum or dad can react, I seal myself- and my numerous bags- in the downstairs toilet.

"Desperate for a wee," I shout as I hastily undress myself in the cramped room.

"Thanks, really needed to know that," dad jokes. I manage to exchange my clothes in record time, though without a mirror in the room, I have to hazard a guess as to how much of my make-up I removed with my make-up removal kit. I wince as I stuff my new clothes (and their bags) into my bulging backpack, before heading into the living room, hiding as much of my face as possible with my hair.

"You been shopping?" Mum asks as she sees my bulging backpack. "Not spending your first pay packet before you've even got it, I hope..."

"Just a couple of things I've wanted for a while," I say as I make a beeline for the stairs. "Just, um, staff discount..."

"Can't blame you, I suppose," mum laughs. "Though I hope you're putting some aside for rent!"

"Yes, of course," I reply, before reaching my room and collapsing on my bed, taking several deep breaths to get my heart rate back to normal. I've got through day 2 'unscathed'- and god only knows how.

After putting away my- or rather, Stephanie's- new clothes- which, as predicted, have become horribly creased in the short trip from the downstairs toilet to my bedroom- I log onto my email, lingering on the photo Jamie-Lee took of me today. Even though I can tell it's me underneath the hair and the make-up, when I try to look at it objectively, I DO look passable... Saving the picture to my hard drive, I browse to Facebook and set up the new account as Stephanie, if only to stop people from pestering me. I add all my band-mates, as well as Stuart, Jamie-Lee and Nikki, before logging out and climbing into bed, even more exhausted than I was last night.

I almost cry with relief when I hear my parents shout goodbye to me as they close the front door, leaving me alone in the house. I don't need to be up for another half hour, but the second they leave, I jump out of bed and head into the bathroom, not wanting to waste any time in 'becoming Stephanie'. After shaving, I take my time applying my make-up, savouring every second as I remember why I started wearing make-up in the first place. I actually have a grin on my face as I pull on my bra, panties and girdle, and I almost giggle with happiness as I stretch my black tights over my legs, before pulling on an outfit I bought yesterday- a very cute grey pleated miniskirt and a tight red jumper, neither of which got TOO creased yesterday (and the pleats on the skirt would hide any creases anyway). Even though my parents are likely to still be out by the time I get home, I stuff my boy clothes and make-up remover into my backpack anyway- yesterday proved that I should expect the unexpected in this job- before slipping my feet into my favourite pair of flats and heading out the door.

"Hey!" Lauren says with a smile as I arrive at the recording studio.

"Are you the only one here?" I ask the ginger-haired girl.

"Aye," Lauren says. "Guess I'm used to early starts, back home I'd get up at 5:30 every morning to help my parents feed the sheep..."

"And I thought I was having a culture shock joining the band!" I joke, making Lauren giggle happily. "Still staying at the hotel?"

"Aye," Lauren sighs. "Got a place to move into next week, pity everywhere in London's so damned expensive..."

"It won't be when your royalty cheques start rolling in!" Jamie-Lee giggles as she approaches the two of us. "Steph, I've got the details of the laser removal place I told you about yesterday, if you tell your counsellor about it they'll write you a recommendation and we can get you booked in ASAP." Counsellor!? I don't have a counsellor...

"Umm..." I mumble, making Jamie-Lee sigh once again.

"Don't tell me you don't have a counsellor..." Jamie-Lee moans. "Who wrote your oestrogen prescription?"

"My former counsellor," I say. "We kinda had a falling out, I've not been to see them in a few weeks..."

"You must be almost out of HRT pills then," Jamie-Lee muses. "Tell you what, I'll get you booked in with my old counsellor. I still see her occasionally, I'll put in a good word, I'm sure the company can cover the expense."

"Oh- no, there's really no need," I plead. "I can find another one on the NHS..."

"You don't want to be waiting forever," Jamie says, immediately typing out an email. "Trust me when I say this woman is GOOD." I nod and force a smile onto my face, but inwardly, I'm panicking more than ever- lying to 'ordinary people' is one thing, but lying to someone who spends all day every day dealing with transgendered people? And they'll no doubt expect to see my prior medical records...

I take a moment to compose myself, deciding that this is a bridge I can cross when I come to it, before forcing another smile on my face as Becca and Adeola arrive at the studio together.

"Decided to show up on time today?" Becca jokes as we greet each other with a hug.

"Play nicely!" Jamie-Lee chuckles as we head into the recording studio, Kayla joining us less than five minutes later. Once again, we spend the whole morning singing, but when it comes to lunch, rather than head to a posh cafe as we've been doing all week, Jamie-Lee instead instructs us all to stay in the studio.

"'Fraid I'm going to have to ask you all to work through lunch," Jamie-Lee says with an almost excited voice. "The outfits we ordered for your promo shoots MAY have arrived today..." Becca and Adeola both squeak excitedly at the news, and I force out an excited gasp too, even though I've no idea what the outfits look like... And when I see them, my excitement only increases.

The outfits Jamie-Lee described are short, tight leotard dresses with matching knee-high platform boots. They're exactly the sort of outfit my younger self would have given his right arm to be able to wear, even for a second... And they're a reminder of one of the reasons WHY I accepted the job in the first place. The dresses are bespoke, tailored to fit perfectly (our measurements were taken on our first day of work) and are a different colour for each girl- Becca's is a sparkly, golden yellow, Adeola's is a dark, silvery grey, Lauren's is royal blue, Kayla's is hot pink and mine is a deep, almost sultry red. The five of us are handed our outfits (along with a pair of fishnet tights) and ordered to immediately change- and none of us need to be asked twice! Whilst the changing room we use is small, all five of us have more than enough space to change- and once again, I find myself almost bemused by how the four other women can casually disrobe in front of me. My own outfit is cut so as to hide my bra, but the others' aren't, so I find myself desperately trying not to pay any attention to my bandmates' breasts.

As much as I'm pretending to be a woman, I am still VERY attracted to women, and the four women I'm stood with in the changing rooms are extremely attractive... Making me thankful that the leotard part of my dress is extremely tight.

"Okay," Jamie-Lee says, handing us all capes that we tie around our necks. "Make-up next! And girls- you look HOT!" I find myself involuntarily giggling along with the other girls as we take turns having our make-up enhanced to near-ridiculous levels, with thick eyeshadow, bright lip gloss and fake eyelashes. I have a moment of panic, though, when the beautician produces a bottle of red nail polish and begins carefully coating each of my fingernails.

"Umm, is the polish necessary?" I ask the beautician. "I'm, um, not really a fan..."

"Oh come on," the beautician giggles. "Every girl loves getting their nails done, surely?" Ordinarily, I'd agree, but this is something I'll have a HELL of a time explaining to my parents when I get home...

"I'm just, um, kinda OCD about it..." I explain. "I kinda touch it up every 10 seconds when I've got it on, which is why I prefer going without any at all..."

"I'll take it off for you before the end of the day," the beautician giggles, and I try not to breathe a sigh of relief, allowing myself to enjoy my time in front of the camera as I- and the other girls- strike seemingly hundreds of different poses, both individually and in a group. Much to my surprise, the rest of the girls all breathe a sigh of relief as Paul- the cameraman- announces that he has all the shots he needs, and we can change out of our tight outfits and back into our everyday clothes.

"Why are you two so tired?" Kayla giggles as she strips out of her pink dress and pulls her denim shorts back on. "I thought you WERE models anyway..."

"Yeah," Adeola says. "And modelling's hard work! Unless you're Steph, of course..." I giggle at Adeola's teasing, but she's not wrong- as exhausted as I should be, it's like the costume has somehow 'revitalised' me, reminded me how exciting it is to be able to wear such feminine clothing- AND be paid very, very richly to do so...

"This must be kind-of a dream come true for you," Becca says as she pulls her short black skirt back on. "Bet you never thought when you were twelve that you'd be wearing something like THAT to work!"

"It IS a fantasy," I giggle. "I'm so glad I auditioned for this role..."

"I'm so glad my Uncle picked the right three girls!" Adeola chuckles. "Hey, how about we all head out for dinner? You know, because we missed lunch?"

"Sounds great!" Kayla beams, with Lauren also nodding her agreement before I can offer any counter-argument. Much to my surprise, however, it's Becca who speaks up next.

"Can't tonight," Becca says. "Hot date with my bae!"

"Then bring him along!" Adeola insists.

"It's not a 'hot' date if there are four other girls there, is it?" Becca snorts.

"Well... Okay," Adeola says, clearly taken aback by her friend's refusal. "Tomorrow night then?"

"Of course!" Becca giggles, giving Adeola a hug as she leaves. "See you all tomorrow!"

"Soo... Just the four of us then?" Lauren asks, making Adeola sigh sadly.

"Ehh... Maybe some other time," Adeola says, tying her long black hair back into a ponytail and grabbing her handbag. "See you tomorrow!"

"Does- does she actually have a character of her own?" Lauren asks, shocked by Adeola's sudden U-turn.

"Doesn't mean we three can't go out for dinner, right?" Kayla asks with a grin. I look down at my scarlet fingernails and grimace- as much as I've loved today... I really can't afford to drag it out any longer.

"...You two," I say, making Lauren and Kayla moan.

"Oh come on, Steph!" Kayla pleads. "Also, you're the only Londoner here, you HAVE to show us around the city!"

"Yeah, come on, please?" Lauren asks. "Don't want to have to eat in the hotel AGAIN..." I sigh inwardly, before forcing a smile onto my face- I don't want to let my new friends down, after all. I can't afford to- especially if Becca's going to get all 'alpha' on me again and if Adeola's going to be her 'sidekick'...

"Can you give me fifteen minutes?" I ask, making Lauren and Kayla both giggle excitedly. It doesn't take long to track down the beautician who'd earlier coated my nails in the red polish and persuade her to remove it all, before grabbing my backpack and returning to Lauren and Kayla, both of whom are eager to get going- which suits me fine.

"Ready to go, fellow 'Becca's sidekick'?" Lauren asks, making Kayla giggle an almost guilty-sounding laugh. I smile as I follow Lauren and Kayla to their chosen restaurant- as much as they wanted me to 'show them around London', in the time it took for me to get my nail polish removed they'd already had Google find them three restaurants nearby, all of which they liked the look of.

Dinner drags on until after 8pm, with Lauren and Kayla mostly gossiping about Becca and her attitude, despite my efforts to steer the conversation down less 'bitchy' routes. After bidding farewell to my bandmates, I find a McDonalds with a disabled toilet to change in, before heading back home, eventually passing through my front door just after 9pm.

"God above Steve, they'd better be giving you overtime!" dad sighs as I stagger through the front door.

"Please tell me you weren't out drinking with work colleagues AGAIN?" Mum asks.

"No," I sigh. "Well- one drink, but only one, I promise. I just- I've made some new friends, I want to get to know them better, that's all."

"Well, okay, if you're sure," mum says. Just don't stay out TOO late each night, you need to save your strength for your actual job!" You don't know how right you are... I think to myself, dad, however, chuckles to himself as mum and I talk.

"Share the joke," Mum says to dad, who simply laughs harder.

"Isn't it obvious what's happening?" Dad asks. "Young man, you should know by now that you can't hide ANYTHING from me, and I can read you like a book." I gulp- surely dad can't have figured out about Stephanie, can he?

"So, pray tell, what's going on?" Mum asks.

"When Steve says 'friend' he obviously means 'girlfriend'!" Dad laughs, making me sigh and shake my head. "So come on then son, what's her name?" I freeze as dad puts me on the spot- but I quickly realise what a golden opportunity this is. If I can persuade them that I have a girlfriend, it'll lead them further away from the truth...

"Rebecca," I say, inwardly wondering why THAT name was the first to spring to mind. "Her name's Rebecca." Mum and dad both grin happy grins and clap their hands at the new of my 'girlfriend'.

"Met through work?" Dad asks, to which I nod my head in response.

"Well don't let her keep you out too late either!" Mum laughs. "And bring her round to meet us at some point!" Yeah... That's probably not going to happen.

Mum and dad interrogate me about my 'girlfriend' for the next half hour, before I head to bed, utterly exhausted from the day's activities and facing a 7am start to get up, changed and out of the house before my parents get up themselves.

Once again, the following morning, I'm the second to arrive at work, after Lauren. My outfit is so plain- a clingy top, a short denim skirt and black tights- that it hardly feels like I'm dressed up at all, and I'm barely even aware of the full face of make-up I've got on. As I line up next to the other four girls in front of the microphones, everything feels... Normal. This could be my fatigue preventing me from getting excited, of course, but the more time I spend in this studio, the more 'real' Stephanie becomes... And the less real Steve becomes.

"Okay," Stuart announces, his voice betraying some of his own fatigue. "I know it's Friday, it's been a long week, but I still want to hear you doing your best today. That means you too, Becca."

"Bite me," Becca laughs at her older brother, who counts us in to our first song of the day- a cover of 'Eternal Flame' by the Bangles. As always, we take it in turns to sing parts of the verses.

"Say my name," I sing, trying my hardest as always to make my voice as feminine and powerful as possible. "Sun shines through the rain, A whole life so lonely, And then come and ease the pain, I don't want to lo-" All of a sudden, my voice cracks and a high-pitched croak slips out, ruining the recording. My cheeks turn a bright red as my bandmates stare at me, the disappointment etched on their faces

"Sorry..." I mumble in a very meek voice.

"Happens to everyone," Stuart assures me. "And it IS the end of a long week..." I'm pretty sure me singing in a voice that isn't my natural one has more to do with the error, though.

"Okay, from the top," Stuart says. "One, two three..."

"Close your eyes," Becca sings. "Give me your hand, darlin', Do you feel my heart beating? Do you understand? Do you feel the same? Am I only drea-" Becca pauses as I suddenly let out a loud sneeze, before burying my now beet-red face in my hands.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," I groan.

"We'll take a break for some water after this next one," Stuart says, irritation beginning to seep into his voice. I take several deep breaths to calm myself as he resets the music for another run-through.

"From the top again," Stuart says. "One, two, three..."

"Close your eyes," Becca sings, shooting a withering stare in my direction. "Give me your hand, darlin', Do you feel my heart beating? Do you understand? Do you feel the same? Am I on-" Another loud sneeze reverberates through the recording studio, cutting Becca off mid-word, though this time, it's not me, but Adeola who ruined the recording. Still holding her hands in front of her mouth and almost in a state of shock, Adeola's eyes meets mine, and we both burst into an uncontrollable fit of giggles that lasts for several minutes and drags every other member of the band- Becca included- down with us.

"Girls!" Stuart snaps as we try to compose ourselves. "Can we try to get to the end of this song at least ONCE today, please?"

"Sorry, sorry," Adeola giggles, taking several deep breaths to compose herself as the rest of us follow suit.

"From the top," Stuart sighs. "One, two, three..."

"Close your eyes," Becca sings, her eyes betraying the fact that she is struggling to compose herself. "Give me your hand, darlin', Do you feel my heart beating? Do you understand? Do you feel the same? Am I-" Becca loses control, breaking down in a fit of giggles that quickly consumes the rest of us as well.

"Okay, we'll save Eternal Flame for next week," Stuart moans as he fiddles with his computer. "Take five. Grab some water, try not to drown whilst drinking it, please..."

"No promises," Becca laughs as we grab our drinks.

"Do you want some Benadryl in that?" Adeola teases me, causing me to nearly snort water out of my nose.

"You can talk!" I retort, making the dark-skinned girl laugh loudly.

"Where'd you all go for dinner last night?" Becca asks.

"Small, privately-run place a few streets away," Lauren replies.

"Do they do lunch?" Becca asks, making the Scottish girl smile a very genuine happy smile.

"Aye, I think they might," Lauren giggles as we head back to our microphones. Sure enough, at lunch I find myself back at the same restaurant where I'd eaten with Lauren & Kayla last night, only this time the two girls aren't nearly as willing to slag off Becca, and- the fact that she's sat next to me notwithstanding- I'm not as willing to slag her off either. I don't know if she had a private 'moment' last night with Jamie-Lee, Stuart or both, but for the first time this week, I'm actually beginning to warm to Becca as a friend.

That good will only improves once we arrive back at the recording studio to be greeted by yet another set of matching clothing- this time a pair of tight leggings and a monogrammed sports bra for our first choreography lesson at Krystie Fullerton's dance studio. Whilst Krystie herself is a classically-trained ballerina, and Becca and Adeola have years of dance experience, neither Lauren, Kayla nor myself have had ANY formal dance instruction for over a decade. Rather than teach us as a group, Krystie decides instead to pair us off to teach us some basic dance steps, so for the next ninety minutes, Krystie herself puts my body through its paces, whilst Becca 'instructs' Kayla and Adeola helps Lauren.

"God, that was KNACKERING," Lauren complains at the end of the lesson.

"You grey up on a farm, and you call an hour and a half of dance 'knackering'?" Becca playfully teases.

"You don't have to concentrate on every single muscle in your body when you're chasing after a sheep!" Lauren giggles.

"You've seriously never taken dance lessons before?" Adeola asks as she dishes out much-needed bottles of water.

"I took ballet up until I was eight," Lauren explains. "I was never any good at it, my parents couldn't really afford it, so that was that."

"Kayla?" Becca asks the tiny blonde girl, who shakes her head in response.

"Got sick of it when I was nine," Kayla shrugs. "Asked my parents if I could stop, so I stopped."

"Steph?" Adeola asks expectantly.

"First ever formal dance lesson of ANY kind," I sigh. "Doubt my parents would've approved, especially not if they saw me wearing anything like this..."

"Would they approve if they saw you wearing a pair of pink tights and a black leotard?" Becca asks with a wicked smile.

"I'm guessing no!" I laugh, making the other four girls giggle as well. "I'd look like an elephant if I attempted ballet..."

"Oh, I dunno," Krystie- who's obviously been eavesdropping- comments. "All three of you have got great potential, and I DO have space in my schedule to give you some remedial ballet lessons if you want..."

"Is ballet really going to help us with the sort of choreography we're going to be doing?" Lauren asks.

"It's the foundation for all forms of dance," Krystie retorts. "It teaches you form, posture... Get a good grounding in ballet and everything else will come to you easily. AND the lessons will of course be free. Well, free to YOU anyway, to the company..." The six of us all giggle as Krystie works her persuasive magic.

"Okay, sign me up!" Kayla giggles.

"Me too!" Lauren says, before every face in the room turns to look at me.

"Me three, I guess!" I laugh, causing cheers from all the assembled women. Where the hell am I going to hide and when will I be able to wash a ballet uniform, of all things...? I self-pityingly think to myself as Krystie draws up a draft timetable for myself, Lauren and Kayla that will see us undertake dance training on Monday and Wednesday mornings.

With the afternoon quickly turning into evening, Krystie sends the five of us on our way, and as I grab my backpack I breathe a sigh of relief that the week- as enjoyable as it's been- is over. Changing isn't even going to be a hassle today- the sports bra and leggings are easily hidden under 'Steve's clothes so I won't even need to remove them before going home. Before I'm able to leave the dance studio, however, my relief is quickly dashed.

"Girls," Becca announces. "It's the end of the very first week of Out of Heaven, which as we all know, is THE hottest girl band in the UK right now. But even more importantly than that, it's Friday night, and do you know what that means?"

"Girls' night out!" Adeola cheers. Crap crap crap crap CRAP! I think to myself, turning my face away from the girls and grimacing.

"AND it's Lauren's first official Friday night out as an adult," Becca laughs, giving the Scottish girl a playful hug. "Double celebration time!"

"I've still not got a clubbing dress," Lauren complains. "Not had the time to buy one!"

"And I've still only got your dress," I say to Becca, whose face falls slightly at the obstacles being put in her way.

"Then wear it again," Becca shrugs. "And don't worry about getting it cleaned- I'll sort that out." I force out a giggle, but getting the dress cleaned isn't going to be nearly as big a hassle as figuring out how to get home, change into it and get out without my parents noticing...

"...And I've still not got seven months' more age," Kayla sighs, lowering the mood of every woman in the room- every woman, that is, except me. Inwardly, I cheer at the 'exit' I've been provided by Kayla's young age. "You- you just go without me, I'll be fine."

"It doesn't seem right, though," I argue. "If we're celebrating the first week of the band then we should celebrate with the WHOLE band."

"We'll just celebrate Lauren's birthday, then!" Adeola laughs.

"We did that on Tuesday!" The flame-haired girl states. "Though a night out DOES sound good..."

"No-reason-night-out it is then!" Becca states firmly. "Steph, you still in?" I desperately try to rack my brains for an excuse, only to draw a blank.

"I'm... Not really feeling up to it," I say, inwardly grimacing at how lame I sound in front of my new friends. "Maybe next week."

"Eh, your loss," Becca shrugs. "I'll see you tomorrow though, right?"

"T- Tomorrow?" I ask.

"For the traditional girls' night IN," Becca says. "At Charlotte Hutchinson's place?" For god's sake! I think to myself. Am I ever going to get ANY time to myself?

"God, I've wanted to go to one of those for SO long," Lauren sighs. "Was meant to be moving my stuff down tomorrow, but I persuaded my brother to wait until Sunday to move just so I can go to that..."

"Same here," Kayla giggles. "Even booked a hotel room tomorrow night so I don't have to worry about missing the last train home!"

"Who's going to be there?" I ask, trying to sound eager rather than cautious.

"All of the Angels, all of the new 'Teen Angels' group too," Becca says. "This is kind-of your debut, heh!" If the Angels will be there then that means that Jamie-Lee will also be there, so there'll be at least ONE friendly face...

"Count me in!" I laugh, already forming a plan as to how to get there and home without my parents knowing about 'Stephanie' and my new friends knowing about 'Steve'.

"I've gotta go," Kayla says, pulling the denim skirt she was wearing earlier back on over her leggings. "Train leaves in a bit... Kinda wish I'd booked a hotel for tonight, heh."

"You can stay in my room tonight if you really want," Lauren offers.

"By myself, waiting for you to get back?" Kayla giggles.

"Ah, Steph'll keep you company, won't you, Steph?" Becca giggles. Inwardly, I can feel myself starting to implode from the stress, but I just about manage to force a smile on my face.

"Sure!" I say, making Kayla giggle and take her phone out of her bag.

"Just need to call home," the tiny blonde girl says. "Explain I may be a little late home... as in Sunday!"

"I need to make a call too," I say, trying my hardest not to sigh. Needless to say, my parents were concerned with my having yet another late night out, but accepted it when I explained that I wouldn't be working the following day. I end up staying with Kayla until well after 11pm- the time at which Lauren returns looking very much the worse for wear. I leave the two girls to their rest- despite their offer for me to stay over with them- and head home, thankful that the hotel had a disabled toilet in which I could change back to 'Steve'.

I don't get up the following day until after 11am, and even then it's only because my parents wake me up as they head out to work. I breathe a sigh of relief as I shave, before pulling on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, heading down to the sofa and collapsing on it with a loud sigh. Ironically, most days when I have the house to myself like this I'd immediately dive into my 'Stephanie' drawer and spend the day sampling all the feminine delights within, but right now, all I want to do is wear slouchy clothes and play on my Xbox until my thumbs seize up.

...And yet, an hour into my gaming session, all I can think about are my four new friends. Becca will undoubtedly be out with her boyfriend somewhere and Adeola will be with her family, but Lauren and Kayla will still probably be in their hotel room, or may have chosen to go out exploring London...

"Hi Lauren," I say into my phone in my 'Stephanie' voice.

"Hey Steph!" Lauren laughs. "You missed a GREAT night last night, it wasn't just Becca and Adeola, a lot of the Angels were there too, we got straight into the VIP area, got drinks on the house..."

"Sounds AWESOME," I say, interrupting Lauren before she has a chance to babble further. "Hey... I know this may sound weird, but are you and Kayla doing anything today?"

"Aye, we're doing a bit of sightseeing," Lauren says. "Be nice to see a part of London that ISN'T the inside of a recording studio!"

"Hehe!" I giggle girlishly. "Umm... Room for one more?"

"Of course!" Lauren laughs. "Haven't you seen all of London, though?"

"Have you SEEN how big it is?" I laugh. "Where d'you want to meet?"

"You know Speedy's cafe, North Gower Street?" Lauren asks. "Near Euston Station."

"Yep," I say happily. "See you in about an hour and a half?"

"That long?" Lauren asks.

"Like I said," I giggle. "See how big London is?"

"Okay," Lauren laughs. "See you in a bit!" I actually squeal with excitement as I click off the phone and head upstairs to change. Despite the lengthy tube ride ahead of me, I take my time applying my make-up and picking out my outfit- a cute long-sleeved brown minidress I bought on my shopping trip with Jamie-Lee. Paired with translucent tights and a pair of 2" heeled ankle booties, I look- and feel- like absolute feminine perfection, My parents wouldn't have been back before I left tonight anyway, so I leave them another note before hopping on a bus, soon finding myself outside the famous cafe in central London.

"Hey Steph!" Kayla squeaks happily, greeting me with a hug.

"Hey," I say happily. "Sorry I'm late, REALLY needed a lie-in today..."

"Oh, don't worry," Kayla laughs. "Miss 'I grew up on a farm and I'm used to early starts' here was still in bed at eleven this morning!"

"I was hungover," Lauren protests.

"You're Scottish," I tease the ginger-haired girl. "I thought you were immune to hangovers?"

"Oh- get to-" Lauren spits, before the three of all break down into fits of giggles. I spend the rest of the day strolling around central London with Lauren and Kayla- and regretting my decision to wear heels- before we tiredly head to Paddington Station, where we await our lift to our 'debut party'. As I go to get some money out of the ATM, however, I get the shock of my life.

"Current balance," I whisper, "£10 087.56? Lauren! Kayla!"

"What is it?" Kayla asks as the two girls rush over to where I'm stood, before their jaws also drop at the sight of my balance.

"Oh my god!" Kayla squeals. "Quick, get out your money, I want to check mine!" I quickly withdraw £100, marvelling at the feel of the thick wad of money and the knowledge that it's not even 1% of the money I possess. Further squeals of excitement from Kayla, and then Lauren, confirm that their bank balances have received similar boosts. It's only later, during the 'debut party' that the penny drops- I now finally have the financial independence I've wanted for so long... but I'm now bound to my new life as Stephanie. I can't exactly take the ten grand and run- Joshua Benedict will be expecting some return on his investment, and I intend to provide him with that return.

The party goes well- Jamie-Lee and Krystie are both there, as are Nikki and her partner and a load more girls I don't recognise. The five of us perform 'Heaven is a Place on Earth', much to the delight of the other partygoers, and by the time 11pm rolls around and it's time to leave, I find myself more and more desperate to stay in my new life.

"Hey Steph!" Jamie-Lee calls as I head to my taxi. "How'd you like your first 'official' party?"

"It was great!" I laugh tiredly. "Kinda wish I didn't have to go home..."

"Still having trouble with your flat mates?" Jamie-Lee asks, prompting a quizzical look from me. "You know, you said at your interview, you didn't get on with them, thought they were transphobic...?"

"Ugh, don't remind me," I sigh, though as mum and dad are probably already in bed, sneaking in today would be easier than ever...

"I MAY be able to help you out there," Jamie-Lee says with a sly smile. "Hey Lauren!"

"What's up?" A dark-haired girl- who I just about recognise from the party- says.

"Sorry, OTHER Lauren," Jamie-Lee giggles. "God, I'm going to need to start giving people nametags..."

"What's up?" Lauren- OUR Lauren- also says as she skips over to Jamie-Lee and myself.

"When are you moving into your new flat?" Jamie-Lee asks.

"Umm, Monday, after our first ballet class, why?" Lauren asks.

"It IS a two bedroom flat, right?" Jamie-Lee asks with a twinkle in her eye.

"Aye..." Lauren says, before the two women's eyes slowly turn in my direction...

The following morning, I take a deep breath before standing in front of both my parents- in 'Steve mode', obviously.

"Mum, dad..." I say nervously. "...I've been asked to move in with one of my work colleagues. To, um, help them with the rent." Mum and dad both nod, though they remain silent- I may not be the first of their children to move out, but I AM the last...

"When?" Mum asks with clear emotion in her voice.

"Tomorrow," I whisper, bringing tears to both hers and dad's eyes. I briefly consider changing my mind, but given how exhausting this week has been, how many near misses I've had... I really don't have any other choice.

"You're a grown man now," dad says. "We can't stop you from making your own decisions... But you'll ALWAYS have a home here with us."

"Your room will always be here waiting for you," mum says, giving me a tight hug. "Just like your brothers'."

"Thanks," I whisper. "And obviously I'll move back if this job doesn't work out..."

"Damn right you will!" Dad laughs. "But I'm confident in you, son. A year from now you'll probably be running the place!"

"Yeah, we'll see about that," I laugh.

I wake early the following morning- not to get into 'Stephanie mode', but rather to bid my parents farewell for what they're treating as the last ever time. After they leave, I change into the pink tights and black leotard that was supplied to me on Friday, though I'm barely able to concentrate throughout my first-ever ballet lesson. After the lesson, I return home to grab the large pink suitcase that contains my new life- all of 'Stephanie's clothes, some of 'Steve's clothes (to keep up appearances at home), my make-up toiletries, a few personal possessions like books and photos... With the exception of my Xbox, which I'm keeping at 'home', I'm amazed by how little I actually possess. Fortunately, mine & Lauren's flat is fully-furnished, and after we finish unpacking (me hiding 'Steve's clothes in a back drawer in my wardrobe), I crash onto the sofa with my new flat mate, truly able to relax for the first time in almost a week.

"God, this is so exciting!" Lauren laughs as she adjusts her own pink dance tights. "I've got my own place, got proper money for the first time in my life, got awesome friends, got my dream job... And oh yes, in a few months' time we're going to be rich and famous singers!"

"I know!" I squeak with a genuine smile as I realise that everything Lauren said applies to me as well. "This is SO cool... I can finally live somewhere I can be myself."

Well, somewhere I can be PART of myself, anyway, for as much as I'm enjoying being Stephanie... I already miss being Steve. I miss lounging on my sofa in a pair of shorts, playing on my Xbox, not having to care about my appearance... But at least now the madness of constantly having to switch between Stephanie and Steve is over for now. And who knows? I may enjoy being Stephanie 24/7- certainly I grew to love being Stephanie '12/7' toward the end of last week. All I know for certain is that now, I can relax.

"Hey, your phone's ringing," Lauren says, handing me my vibrating mobile. "Gonna answer it?" I look at the number on the screen and sigh- it's the number of my mum's mobile. I guess that all I know for certain is that I can ALMOST relax...

"I should get going," I sigh as I watch the clock tick over to 9pm. "Flatmates get kinda paranoid about leaving the front door unlocked this late..."

"Well, that makes me feel all the better about you travelling on the tube this late," mum sighs as I grab my backpack and head to the front door. "Are you SURE you don't want to stay over tonight, Steve?" I sigh again as I catch a glance of my make-up free, unshaven face in the hallway mirror.

"Nah... Need to be up early tomorrow," I say.

"Well, see you next weekend I guess," dad says, giving me an awkward hug as I leave my family home. "Take care, son."

"Will do," I say. "See you next weekend!" I sigh heavily as I leave my house and hop on the tube to my new flat. Fortunately, my flatmate ALWAYS goes to bed early on a Sunday- a throwback from having grown up on a farm- so I don't have to find anywhere to change and can enter the flat in 'Steve mode', heading straight to my bedroom and collapsing on my bed.

"Hey Steph," Lauren tiredly mumbles from the adjoining bedroom.

"Hey Lauren," I say in my perfected feminine voice- a voice I now use a lot more than my 'normal' male voice. "I'll not be up longer, don't worry..."

"Good," Lauren yawns. "Night Steph..."

"Night, Lauren," I reply, taking the opportunity to lie awake on my bed for a while longer. Ever since I moved into my new apartment four weeks ago, I've effectively been living life full-time as Stephanie, and whilst it is HIGHLY enjoyable... I do miss these moments when I can just be Steve, when I don't have to worry about my appearance, or my body language, or my voice, when I can just lay back and let all my worries wash away, as though they were grains of sand slipping through my fingers.

Of course, eventually my time- like the sand- runs out, and I crawl into bed just after 10:30pm, waking just after 7am and heading into my en-suite bathroom, where I stare at Steve's face for the last time this week. I shave 'Steve's face clean of facial hair, before applying a full face of expensive make-up. With my advance payment from the agency firmly settled in my bank account, I can afford to be a little adventurous in my spending- no more cheap supermarket make-up for me.

I head back into my bedroom and pull on a clean thong, giggling as the thin, stretchy fabric nestles snugly between my buttocks and keeps me 'under control', before pulling on a special padded bra I ordered off the internet that will give me the correct 'shape'. The studio believe I'll be wearing these bras until my own breasts have a chance to grow- needless to say, I'll be wearing them for a while.

After fastening my bra, I stretch a pair of baby pink tights over my legs, followed by a tight black tank leotard, and finally a short-sleeved button-up denim dress. I scrape my short- but growing- brown hair back, pinning it to my head with hair clips, before grabbing my pink dance bag and meeting my flatmate outside our respective bedrooms.

"Ready to go, ballerina buddy?" Lauren asks, an excited giggle seeping into her thick Highland accent.

"You bet!" I laugh as we head down the stairs and into the cool London air. Not long later, we arrive at our dance studio, where our three bandmates- and eleven other young women signed to our talent agency- are waiting for us, also decked out in the basic black leotards and pink tights commonly worn by ballet students.

"Girls," Krystie- our dance teacher- announces before we get started. "In four short days’ time, one of us will be a year older... Isn't that right, Miss Benedict?" I giggle a little as Adeola grins bashfully, a cute smile spreading across her dark-skinned face.

"Come on," Becca laughs. "You know the drill..." The whole dance studio cheers supportively as Adeola steps up to Krystie and drops to a graceful ballerina's kneel, before being 'crowned' with a jewelled tiara. Within minutes, she's changed into a baby pink tutu and performed a brief routine for the rest of us- with a level of skill and grace I can only dream of as Krystie helps myself, Lauren and Kayla learn the absolute basics of dance. This is my ninth ballet lesson, and progress is very, very slow.

"Godddddd," I sigh as our extended lesson ends and I can finally pull my dress back on and unclip my hair. "Every time I set foot in that place I feel like a hippo..."

"You're hardly fat!" Kayla snorts as she pulls her own short dress back on over her dancewear. "And just wait until your oestrogen kicks in, from what I've read on the internet, your waist will basically vanish!" Yeah, about that... I self-pityingly think to myself.

"And it's not like we'll need to dance live," Lauren says. "None of the big girl bands do anything beyond really basic steps, all the complex stuff we'll do will be in the videos where if we make a mistake, we just redo it until we get it right."

"Yeah, what time's your last train, Kayla?" I ask, making my two new friends laugh.

"You'll be FINE," Lauren insists. "God knows I'm hardly any better than you right now!"

"Yeah, but you're, like, half my size," I moan.

"Three inches shorter and maybe two inches less on the waist!" Lauren retorts. "Hardly HALF your size..."

"Okay, okay," I laugh. "Where we going for lunch?"

"Subway, probably," Lauren sighs. "Need to go shopping for yet ANOTHER birthday present..."

"First Becca, now Adeola," Kayla snorts. "Reckon it's a coincidence they formed this band within weeks of BOTH their birthdays?"

"Yeah, but- let's just get it out of the way, okay?" I sigh. "At least we know Addie a little better now, and you know that whatever we get her, she'll at least PRETEND to be grateful..." Lauren and Kayla both nod as they remember our 'lead singer's birthday party two weeks ago today- not that it was easy to forget.

As Becca's birthday fell on a Monday, she did her 'routine' for the ballet class, much like Adeola did today, and spent the rest of the day being waited on hand and foot by her brother, her boyfriend... and the rest of her band. It wasn't too bad at first- Riley is absolutely besotted with Becca and happily did all the heavy lifting (both metaphorically and literally), but Becca's entitled attitude managed to irritate everyone to the point that by the time her 'official' party started at around 8pm, even Adeola was annoyed... And then Becca opened her presents, and things got infinitely worse.

Lauren, Kayla and I had only received our advances two weeks before, which was hardly enough time to get to know Becca's tastes, but we did our best- getting her stuff related to ballet, horse riding, stuff we know she likes... All things that were met with polite indifference. Even though the party had a 'music' theme to it, with stuff like karaoke and Guitar Hero laid on as entertainment, Becca spent virtually no time with 'her' band apart from Adeola, instead spending her time hanging around with Riley, Stuart and Jamie-Lee. Whilst it's understandable in a way- Riley's her boyfriend, Stuart's her brother and Jamie-Lee is his girlfriend- Lauren, Kayla and I went away from the party with a VERY bad taste in our mouths.

After a quick lunch, the three of us jump on the tube to Oxford Street, where we spend the next three hours picking out gifts for Adeola- she's spoken often of her respect for such Civil Rights activists as Martin Luther King and Emmeline Pankhurst, so I've bought her a series of books, paintings and DVDs on the topic. The three of us even managed to track down a traditional Nigerian dress in her size in a charity shop, and after umming and ahing over whether or not it'd be 'too sensitive', decided to buy it anyway on the condition that it was listed as from all three of us.

Of course, we took the time to treat ourselves as well, and as Lauren and I arrive back at our flat just after 5:30pm (having seen Kayla off at the station), we each have shopping bags full of cute, new clothes. In the past- when I was Steve- I would dread shopping trips with my mum. I'd spend what felt like hours walking around a store getting more and more bored as mum picked out various clothes to try on and (occasionally) buy. The added frustration of desperately wanting to try on the clothes for myself just served to make those trips intolerable. Today, however, it was MY turn to shop- trying on my own clothes, earning the approval of Lauren & Kayla and offering my own opinions on their clothing choices... It was the type of girly day out I'd dreamed of all my life, and as much as I may miss being Steve, I loved every second of today, out with my girl friends. Even if I felt a mild pang of regret every time I passed a videogame store...

"I am fucking KNACKERED," Lauren laughs as she collapses on the sofa, her flame-coloured hair falling chaotically over her shoulders. "What you want for dinner?"

"Can you face take-out?" I ask, making Lauren giggle.

"Who was worried about her waistline again?" The Scottish girl retorts. "Think I've got a couple of low-fat spag bols in the freezer, I'll chuck them in the microwave."

"Sounds great," I say with a chuckle as I switch on the television. "Big TV night tonight!"

"Oh?" Lauren asks. "What's on?"

"First episode in the new series of Game of Thrones," I say excitedly. "Been looking forward to it for AGES!"

"Ehh," Lauren grimaces. "Not... Not really a fan, I'm afraid."

"Oh, what?" I ask, barely hiding the disappointment in my voice.

"Yeah, my brothers made me watch the first series when I was fourteen," Lauren sighs. "Had nightmares for days afterwards... You can watch it though, if you want."

"It's not really any fun watching it by yourself," I mumble.

"Sorry," Lauren says. "You can Sky+ it and watch it with someone else later if you'd like?"

"Sounds good!" I giggle, forcing a smile onto my face as Lauren giggles with relief. Sure enough, when 9pm rolls around, I find myself not watching my favourite TV show, but instead sat on the sofa whilst Lauren paints our nails a delicate pink colour and tells me about her childhood, growing up on a farm with three significantly older brothers.

We head to our beds just after 10:30pm, with Lauren grinning at the enjoyable night she's had, whilst I'm left frustrated that my 'choice' has led to me missing a TV programme I've waited months to watch- and wondering what else my new life will cause me to have to give up...

I wake up the following morning at 7am and run through what has quickly become my morning routine- shaving, showering, applying my make-up and picking out my outfit for the day- translucent brown tights, a ruffled black miniskirt, a tight purple top and knee-high black boots, all of which- even the tights- are purchases I've made since joining the band.

"Hey sexy lady!" Lauren laughs as she takes my place in the bathroom. "LOVE those boots, gonna have to get myself a pair today whilst you're working hard!"

"Rub it in harder, why don't you?" I retort as I head out onto the street and stride along to the nearest tube stop. On the short ride to the recording studio, I can't help but inwardly smirk at the attention my boots- and the rest of me- gets from the numerous young men also travelling to work on the packed underground carriages. In the past, every time I left the house as Stephanie, I'd always cringe at the attention I'd get from men, so I'd always dress conservatively- rarely wearing skirts shorter than knee-length, always wearing opaque tights- but since being 'accepted' as Stephanie, I've grown more and more adventurous. I still don't want a boyfriend, of course... But there's a very real part of me that feels smug knowing that if I DID want a man... I could have one any time I wanted.

I arrive at my workplace a short while later to be greeted by Stuart, our producer, who guides me into the recording studio that's quickly become like another home to me.

"Just the two of us today," Stuart chuckles. "You clear on the tracks we're going to be doing today?"

"Yep," I say as I put on my headphones. Even though we haven't so much as released a promotional video yet, we're already hard at work recording tracks for our first album. Stuart's had the idea that each of us should contribute a solo track to the album, so whilst the other four girls get a day off, I spend the day singing various tracks that have been selected for me. In additional to the covers we've been doing- including 'Man I Feel Like a Woman' by Shania Twain and 'Time After Time' by Cyndi Lauper- Stuart's also written several original tracks for the five of us. For a man, he's VERY good at writing music and lyrics for female voices...

After six hours that leaves my throat feeling almost red raw, Stuart calls it a day, even though we didn't quite complete our itinerary for the day.

"Your voice will gain stamina eventually," Stuart assures me as I grab my bag and follow him out into the agency's reception area. "We've still got plenty of time before we're going to put out any music, let alone go on tour, so as long as you work on it, you'll be fine eventually." My heart skips a beat as Stuart mentions touring- whilst it's obviously a key part of any musical act, the thought of getting on stage, dressed as Stephanie, and singing in front of hundreds, maybe even thousands of people...

Fortunately, I can put that thought to the back of my mind for now as we enter the reception area, where Jamie is there to greet her boyfriend with a long, deep kiss. I smirk as I watch the couple embrace- being born a man certainly didn't prevent Jamie from finding a boyfriend, and if I did ever end up with a man, I'd kinda like it to be someone like Stuart- friendly, kind and intelligent. Of course, I'd much prefer any potential future partner to be female, but if I've learned anything since beginning my life as Stephanie, it's to keep an open mind about everything- even myself.

"Hey, sexy," Stuart giggles as he gives Jamie another kiss. "Ready to go?"

"Can I talk to Steph for a second?" Jamie asks, catching both myself and Stuart by surprise.

"Umm, sure, I guess," Stuart says, laughing as Jamie gives him a very loud pat on the backside.

"Hey Steph," Jamie says as she leads me into a small private office.

"Hey Jamie," I say to the woman who has quickly become a mentor to me both professionally and personally. "What's up?"

"Just checking in, making sure everything's alright," Jamie says with a smile.

"Yeah, everything's going fine," I say.

"True," Jamie laughs. "But it's a big day both tomorrow AND Thursday... Are you sure you want to go through with it without talking to your counsellor first?"

"Positive," I say, desperately trying to sound as sincere as possible. Fortunately, Jamie chuckles at my determination- fake as it may be.

"Good girl," Jamie says. "Always look forward, never backward... Though on that note, have you tried contacting your parents yet?"

"Not yet," I mumble, shaking my head.

"That was probably the biggest step for me too," Jamie says. "But if you ever need any help, if you want me to go to meet them with you, I will. I know this journey can be scary... God knows it was terrifying for me at first, but here I am, one year after my SRS... And I wouldn't change a single thing in my life, not one thing."

"...Except," I say, "don't you ever wish that you were just, you know, born a girl?" Jamie chuckles and shakes her head at my question.

"All the time," my mentor whispers. "Especially when I see my friends with their children... But if I'd been born a girl, I probably wouldn't have made the friends I have, and I CERTAINLY wouldn't have met Stuart... All in all, I don't have any regrets." Good for you, I self-pityingly think to myself. "Know what you're wearing to Addie's birthday party yet?" Jamie continues.

"Umm, I was just planning on wearing a dress," I say. "It's not another theme party, is it?"

"Nah, it's only her nineteenth and Addie doesn't usually like a big fuss being made of her," Jamie says, before giggling. "Unlike her BFF, of course..." I let out an involuntary snort of laughter as Jamie once again takes a shot at Becca.

"Is that really how you should be talking about your potential future sister-in-law?" I giggle.

"You know," Jamie laughs, "when I first met her, she was this shy, star struck eighteen year old? What a difference two years makes..."

"I suppose to her credit she's never given me any grief about, well, you know," I laugh.

"She wouldn't dare," Jamie says. "Especially not in front of Stuart."

"Because he's going out with you?" I ask.

"Umm, because of HIM," Jamie says. "Do- do you really not know?"

"Know what?" I ask, making Jamie giggle uncontrollably.

"Oh, Stuart's going to LOVE this," Jamie laughs. "My boyfriend... When HE was born 25 years ago, HER name was Claire." My jaw drops at the revelation- Stuart used to be a girl? No wonder he's so good at writing lyrics for female voices...

"Seriously?" I ask.

"Seriously," Jamie says. "He's been transitioning for nine years now, done his absolute best to eradicate anything even remotely feminine about himself- not that I'm complaining- but there are still times, occasions when his 'old self' comes through... Especially when he's around babies!" I giggle as Jamie gossips about her boyfriend, and as we head back out into the agency's reception, I find myself giggling nervously as Stuart flashes me a smile, before leaving hand-in-hand with Jamie.

Immediately as I arrive home, I log on to Facebook on my new laptop and browse to Stuart's page, staring intently at his profile picture. Hormones can't alter bone structure, no matter how long you take them, and the more I concentrate, the more I can traditionally feminine aspects to his face- and, most worryingly of all, the more I stare at his face, the more I WANT to stare at his face...

"Hey Steph!" Lauren says as she comes through the door and drops two large shopping bags on the sofa. "Sainsbury's guy been yet?"

"Umm, no," I say, hastily closing down the page I was looking at. "Get anything good?"

"Not really," Lauren sighs. "Kayla's still in Southampton, Adeola and Becca... Yeah. Shopping's no fun when you're doing it by yourself."

"Sorry I had to go into work," I giggle as I sit down next to the Scottish girl. "Lauren... Have you ever given any thought to touring? You know, we're going to have to do it eventually..."

"'Have to'?" Lauren laughs. "It's the reason I wanted to be in the group... Singing in front of a crowd... Largest crowd I've ever sung in front of has been at school. I've got this dream, y'know, of singing the national anthem at Murrayfield or Hampden, 50 000 people singing along with me..."

"I take it you're talking about 'Flower of Scotland' and not 'God Save the Queen'?" I say.

"If England play Scotland at any point in the future, YOU can sing God Save the Queen!" Lauren jokes, before heading into the kitchen to prepare a quick dinner.

After an evening of Eastenders and various American sitcoms I've never seen a single episode of before, I opt for an early night, and make a mental note to bring my Xbox back to my apartment with me next weekend, no matter how 'un-girly' it might be.

"Okay," Stuart says as he adjusts dials on hi console. "You've done this plenty of times, just go out there and knock 'em dead." I nod my head and turn around to face the ninety thousand-strong Wembley crowd, smiling at the feel of my long hair and floaty dress blowing in the wind, and the sight of my almost luminous red nail polish.

"God save our gracious Queen!" I sing. "Long live our noble Queen! God save the Queen! Send her victorious, Happy and glorious, Long to reign over us, God save the Queen!" As the crowd cheers, I turn around to face Stuart, who greets me with a long, soft kiss...

"Ah!" I gasp as I awake, almost hyperventilating. "I do NOT fancy Stuart, I do NOT fancy men..." even though my alarm clock shows that it's only 5am, I don't get back to sleep before getting up at 7:30am, running through my morning routine and dressing in a light, knee-length black dress and black tights- though for what feels like the first time in ages, I DON'T shave, and as I leave the flat to head to the nearest tube station, I desperately try to disguise my face with my hair. However, every time someone glances in my direction, my heart rate increases, and every double-take I receive nearly causes me to wet myself with terror. Even though the tube journey was mere minutes, I still breathe a sigh of relief as I step through the door of the small Paddington clinic, where both I and my stubbly face are expected.

"Hi, I'm Stephanie Abbott, here for my treatment?" I say to the receptionist, who smiles and instructs me to take a seat. I allow myself a small chuckle as I look around the waiting room- one of very few places on Earth where stubble-faced women ARE an everyday sight.

"Miss Abbott?" A young nurse asks, before leading me into a small, clean room with a lot of expensive-looking medical equipment in it. "This is your first treatment, isn't it?"

"Yeah," I say, taking a deep breath of air. "I'm kinda a little nervous..."

"That's to be expected," the nurse says with a smile. "But you really have nothing to worry about, you won't feel any pain, at worst it'll be like you have a very mild sunburn." Yeah, it's not the pain I'm nervous about...

Ten minutes later, I lay still as a trained medical professional runs a high-intensity beam of light over my face, causing a powerful tingling sensation as the laser beam travels down my facial hair to the follicles, eradicating them cell by cell. No, my nerves weren't about the pain- because there really isn't any- but about me taking the first step down a path I'm not fully sure I want to travel down.

Sure, having facial hair removed is a far cry from full SRS, or even hormone treatments, but it's still one step toward being female... And more crucially, one step away from being male. Both my brothers have grown goatee beards at some point in the past, as has my father before his work as an ambulance technician caused him to have to shave it off. As the laser beam works its magic on my chin, I muse on how I'll never have that option. Sure, this is just the first treatment- it'll take several more to completely kill my facial hair- but as I walk out of the clinic, it's as though 'Steve' has taken one more step into irrelevance... And eventual extinction. One thing's for certain though- and that's that I WON'T miss shaving.

Despite my still-stubbly face (the laser kills hair follicles, rather than hairs themselves), I head to the recording studio rather than back to the apartment, dropping into the recording studio where Stuart is hard at work directing Kayla through her solo performances. Stuart beams me a smile as I enter the small booth that causes my heart to flutter despite my best efforts. I do NOT fancy Stuart... I think to myself as I take a seat next to my producer. I do NOT fancy him, I do NOT fancy him...

"Hey Steph!" Kayla yells through the glass after she finishes her song. "Missed you at ballet today..."

"Yeah, didn't want to put this off," I say. And in truth, having a laser beam shot at my face is, if anything, more enjoyable than ballet... "Doing anything for lunch?"

"I WAS going to send her home," Stuart laughs. "Kayla's voice is THAT perfect that we don't really need to do any additional takes..." In the booth, Kayla giggles bashfully, though she's clearly pleased with herself to have received such a compliment from our producer.

"...And it's my boyfriend's free day from college," Kayla continues. "Kinda wanted to spend some time with him, you know, before I get too famous and too busy with touring and TV appearances..."

"Go on," Stuart laughs. I bid the tiny girl farewell with a hug before turning to the invader of my dreams.

"You know," I say. "Seeing as I'm here and you have got the studio for the rest of the day, we could, um, pick up from where we left off yesterday? You know, finish off the songs..."

"Sure," Stuart says, opening files on his laptop. "Just make yourself comfortable, I'll be a few minutes loading in all the music."

"Okay," I say, heading into the booth and putting on my headphones. "I didn't know Kayla had a boyfriend..."

"Yeah, think they met at college," Stuart says. "How about you, any boy OR girl in your life?"

"No, um, kinda not looking right now," I half-lie. "The, um, oestrogen has damaged my libido..."

"Yeah, I'd heard that can be the case," Stuart says. "Of course, for me, it was the opposite quote-unquote problem, and yes, Jamie told me yesterday and yes, thank you for not noticing, I'm sure you of all people can appreciate how much of a compliment that is!" I giggle nervously as Stuart briefly diverts his attention from his work to grin at me. "Okay, think we're ready, we're going to start with 'In Your Eyes', is that okay?"

"Sure," I say, taking a deep breath as the opening bars of the familiar Kylie Minogue song plays.

After two hours of singing, it's a relief to finally be allowed to leave the studio- and not just because my voice is tired.

"We got some good work done today," Stuart says with a smile. "You heading home now?"

"Yeah," I say. "Gonna be fun braving the tube again with my 5 O'Clock shadow..."

"Eh, I'll drive you home," Stuart says. "Jamie's in Manchester all day recording for a TV show and won't be back until late, your flat's on the way to my house, makes sense really."

"Okay, if you're sure," I say as I get into Stuart's car, keeping my knees closed and swinging my legs in as he shuts the door for me. "How much do you want for petrol?"

"I go past your flat anyway on the way home!" Stuart laughs. "Don't worry about petrol, just get home and rest your voice. Jamie tells me you've got your first meeting with Dr Phillips tomorrow, is that right?"

"Yeah," I reply.

"She's been my counsellor for three years," Stuart says. "Helped me through a lot, my break-up and getting back together with Jamie, my upcoming SRS... I know she'll help you too."

"Cool," I say, though in my mind I'm still trying to figure out what to say to the counsellor, a dilemma that persists after Stuart drops me off at home, and throughout dinner, as I head to bed and as I get up the following morning. After shaving my still-sensitive face and applying a light layer of make-up, I dress in very basic underwear, black tights, a plain denim skirt and a turtleneck jumper. For the first time since moving into my new apartment, every item of clothing I'm wearing is something I owned prior to my first interview- the day Stephanie was 'officially' born. As I head out the door, it suddenly dawns on me what a rare 'treat' this is- that I'm being Stephanie, as I am virtually every day, but on 'my' terms. There's no pressure from my employers, from my bandmates, there's no Lauren, no Becca, no Jamie, no Joshua and DEFINITELY no Stuart- just me being the girl I'd dreamed about being since I was thirteen. And I HAVE dreamed- literally dreamed at times- about being Stephanie. She's been part of who I am for a long, long time... She's just never dominated who I am the way she does now.

Even as the receptionist calls me up to the counsellor's office, I have no idea what I'm going to say to the woman. Every story I come up with, every tale I plan to tell has contradictions, gaps that a trained professional such as herself will see straight through.

"Hi, you must be Stephanie," the middle-aged woman says, giving me a handshake as I sit down in one of her plush chairs and unconsciously straighten my skirt. "I'm Dr Beverly Phillips. I've heard a lot about you from Jamie and from Stuart. Who was your counsellor before?" I open my mouth to respond, but the stress almost causes me to throw up. Whatever name I say, whatever name I make up, she can easily check. My tale has fallen apart and I haven't even said a single word...

"...Everything I say," I ask hesitantly. "Everything- it IS covered by doctor-patient confidentiality, isn't it?"

"Yes, of course," Dr Phillips says.

"I... I'm not transitioning," I say, breathing a heavy sigh of relief as I 'confess' to the woman, who simply nods her head.

"From what I was led to believe," Dr Phillips says in a calm voice, "you had started transitioning sometime in January, fallen out with your parents and your counsellor and begun living life as a woman independently. Are you telling me now that that is not the case?"

"That's correct," I say. "I- I dug myself into a hole and every time I tried to get out of it I only dug myself deeper and deeper. I just wanted this job SO much, it's always been my dream to live life as a girl..." Tears start to form in the corners of my eyes, but they quickly dry when I see Dr Phillips sit back with a smile on her face.

"Tell me about this dream," she commands. "How old were you when you first wanted to live life as a girl?"

"Um, thirteen," I reply, chuckling at being able to speak honestly for the first time in almost two months. "I started puberty and I started noticing girls, but every time I'd um, well, 'fantasise'..."

"Go on," Dr Phillips says with genuine kindness in her voice.

"Every time I'd 'fantasise'... I'd imagine that I WAS a girl," I say. "I'd be obsessed with their school uniforms, I'd imagine that just one day I'd be able to go into school as a girl, then I went to college and it just got worse..."

"Why would you say 'worse'?" Dr Phillips asks.

"Because there all the girls wore fashionable, feminine clothing of all different types," I explain. "Skirts, dresses, they wore make-up, jewellery, perfume... I was stuck in my boring T-shirt and jeans and I just felt... Like nothing."

"And how do you feel now?" Dr Phillips asks. "You're sat here now in the clothes you'd dreamed about wearing for six years, you ARE living life as a girl, quite successfully I might add."

"I... I dunno," I say truthfully. "I've been living as a girl full-time- well, more or less- for a month now, and it just feels... Comfortable. Like it's normal."

"And yet you're NOT transitioning?" Dr Phillips asks. "Do you want to transition?" I open my mouth to respond- but my mind refuses to provide me with a definite answer.

"...I don't know," I say. "My parents don't know about 'Stephanie'- I'm not estranged from them, not even close... They just think I work in a music shop and live with a male friend. If they knew about 'Stephanie' they'd probably go berserk..."

"You don't know just how many young men and women I've had through my doors saying the exact same thing," Dr Phillips chuckles. "When did you last see your parents?"

"Sunday," I say. "Dressed and acting as 'Steve', before you ask."

"And how did it feel to 'be Steve'?" Dr Phillips asks.

"...Relaxing," I say. "That's probably the closest word... Like whenever I'm Stephanie, a part of me feels like I'm pretending, but with Steve, there's no pretense, there's just me..."

"So are you telling me it feels normal to be both Steve AND Stephanie?" Dr Phillips asks.

"I know that must sound weird," I laugh.

"Not at all," Dr Phillips says. "Are you familiar with the term 'bigendered'?"

"Um, no," I say, "but if I had to guess, I'd assume that means 'having two genders'?"

"'Having two gender identities' would be closer to the mark," Dr Phillips explains. "Looking at you now, I can tell that you're clearly female. You probably don't realise, but in addition to your obvious outward appearance, you're displaying many typically feminine characteristics in your body language and your mannerisms. I imagine when you're 'Steve', the same could be said of typically masculine characteristics, though obviously I would need to meet 'Steve' to confirm this."

"So, what?" I ask. "I have multiple personality disorder?"

"I wouldn’t say that," Dr Phillips says. "Tell me- as Stephanie- what are your feelings toward Steve? Would you regard him as an entirely different person, or just another facet of your life?"

"Um, kinda hard to say," I reply, stammering as the question puts me on the spot. "I mean, I just see Steve as me, just as a boy..."

"I'm going to ask a question now," Dr Phillips says. "And don't feel under any pressure to answer if you genuinely don't know the answer. If you had to pick one gender to live as for the rest of your life, which would you pick?" I open my mouth to respond, but once again, an answer doesn't spring immediately to mind. As Stephanie I have success in the palm of my hand. I've been accepted as a woman by other women. I have a career, I get to wear the things I've dreamt of since I was thirteen, be the person I always wanted to be... But as Steve, I get to relax, I get the luxury of not having to 'try'. I can sit back, play video games, watch the TV I want... And there's absolutely zero peer pressure from anyone, friends, family or employers.

"...I genuinely don't know," I whisper, making Dr Phillips smile and nod.

"Obviously," the middle-aged woman says, "I'm not happy with the way you've lied to your employers. This is something you need to rectify soon. I'm happy to act as your confidant for now and I'll happily support you in person when you choose to speak to them, but the longer you spin out the lie the harder it'll be to back out of it. Even keeping it up for as long as you have, you risk endangering your mental health. But on the other hand... You clearly DO have some sort of gender identity confusion. Sat here now, as Stephanie, do you feel like a boy pretending to be a girl, or a girl who used to be a boy?" Once again, I open my mouth, only for a girlish giggle to come out as once again, I have no answer to the question.

"I truly, honestly don't know," I say. "I mean, I FEEL like a girl, but I KNOW I'm not..."

"I'm more than willing to help you through this," Dr Phillips says, her smile widening. "After all, that is what I'm being paid for! Ultimately, whether you choose to live life as a man, a woman or both, what's important is that you strike a balance in your life that leaves you happy and completely free of confusion about what it is you want from your life."

"So... You're not angry?" I ask, making the good doctor chuckle.

"Why would I be angry?" Dr Phillips asks. "I'm doing my job, from our chat here I can tell you're NOT here under false pretenses- as I said, I believe you DO have some form of gender identity confusion- and I want to help you reach a resolution that will satisfy everyone."

"...Everyone including my employer?" I ask.

"As you sussed out from the first question you asked," Dr Phillips says, "Doctor-patient confidentiality prevents me from telling anyone, even them, about anything you say in this office. All I can do is stress that YOU need to tell them as soon as possible."

"Easier said than done," I sigh. "A transitioning transsexual on the band is revolutionary, a breakthrough... A crossdresser would just turn it into a freak show."

"I wouldn't use those words exactly," Dr Phillips retorts. "whilst you're right, there IS a certain 'sliding scale' when it comes to the public perception of people with differing scales of gender identity issues, the fact still remains that you got that job on merit. I know just how many people auditioned for that role, and for you to get it shows that they have immense confidence in you as a singer, as a professional, not just as a woman. But I do understand your reluctance... I've met Joshua a few times and I know he is a deeply tolerant, intelligent man, but I wouldn't want to predict his reaction to deception."

"Nor would I," I sigh.

"For now, though," Dr Phillips says, "we have to do what's right for YOU, and to do that, I do need to get to know you better, to know the REAL Stephanie."

"I barely know who the REAL Stephanie is!" I chuckle.

"Then let's find out together," Dr Phillips says in a warm voice. "Tell me about your early years, you've gone over the origins of 'Stephanie' but I'd like to know more details, your feelings when you first discovered 'her', how you set about making her a reality..."

Forty-five minutes later, I walk out of the office feeling refreshed, like my batteries had been completely drained but are now recharged and raring to go. I switch my phone back on to discover a voicemail message from Jamie asking me to call her, which I immediately do.

"Hey Steph!" Jamie squeaks down the phone at me. "So, how was your first appointment?"

"AMAZING," I gush. "She- she's really been a help..."

"I told you she would be!" Jamie laughs. "If it wasn't for her, I probably wouldn't have reconciled with my parents... I KNOW she can help you there too."

"Yeah, we did talk about them," I say.

"That'd be so cool if you got back together with them AS Stephanie," Jamie muses. "I mean, you said you've got two other brothers, right? You never know, maybe they'd grow to love having a daughter, just as my parents did. And I'm an only child! Hey, maybe we could get a film crew along when you meet them, broadcast it on an episode of Angels or something..." Now THAT's the most terrifying idea I've heard in a long, long time...

"Umm," I say, trying not to hurt my 'mentor's feelings, "I'd, um, kinda prefer this to be private, if you don't mind..."

"Of course, of course," Jamie says. "Sorry for bringing it up... I DO kinda get ahead of myself when it comes to TV, heh! You coming on the night out tonight?" Night out!? This is the first I've heard of this...

"Um, what night out?" I ask. "It's Thursday, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Jamie says, "but Addie's party's tomorrow so we're having the night 'out' tonight instead. I'll be there, so will Becca and Addie, I've already asked Lauren- YOUR Lauren- and she's coming too, it'll be great!"

"Uhh, sure!" I say, unable to think of a way of squirming out of the night out. Not counting the first 'night out'- where I had to borrow Becca's dress due to not having one of my own- I've only been on one girls' night out, and I felt so uncomfortable that after an hour I was almost literally praying for the night to end. I'd only been clubbing once before as 'Steve'- with my brothers, a couple of weeks after my eighteenth birthday- and I hated it then too, so this probably isn't a gender identity-related thing, but Jamie's enthusiasm for her girls' nights is infectious, and as I step through the front door of my apartment, I'm resigned to the fact that I'm going to have a miserable night...

"Hey Steph!" Lauren beams from the living room. "Hope you don't mind, we've got a home invader..." I screw up my face in confusion, before grinning as I see the tiny form of Kayla sprawled out on our second sofa.

"Hey Kayla!" I say to the grinning blonde girl. "What are you doing in London?"

"Staying the night, if that's okay with you?" Kayla asks, bringing a smile to my face. Kayla's still only seventeen, can't go on the night out, it'd be rude to leave her here alone... It's more than okay for her to stay tonight.

"Of course!" I giggle. "What, didn't feel like an early morning tomorrow?"

"Nah, and my boyfriend's out of town too," Kayla sighs. "Lauren and I are going shopping tomorrow for dresses for Adeola's party, figured if I cut out the hour and a half commute now that saves an hour and a half tomorrow for shopping!"

"Hehe!" I giggle. "You know it's you, Lauren and ME that are going shopping, right?"

"Damn right!" Lauren laughs. "Steph, you want some dinner before heading out?"

"What, are we going to leave Kayla all alone in the flat?" I laugh, mentally patting myself on the back for seizing this opportunity that's been presented to me.

"Honestly, I don't mind," Kayla says. "God knows when I FINALLY turn eighteen I'll be out every night I can!"

"No, it's just not right," I say. "I'll text Jamie... Besides, we're having a big fancy night out tomorrow, aren't we?"

"Meh, suit yourself," Lauren shrugs. "I plan on having that AND a big night out tonight!" I laugh as the flame-haired girl sticks her tongue out at me, before returning to the kitchen to prepare our evening meal. After the light fare, Lauren briefly retires to her bedroom, only to emerge twenty minutes later wearing a tiny black dress, massive stiletto heels, an absolute cloud of perfume and about as much make-up as I've ever seen on one person. The look is so effortlessly sexy and feminine I very nearly jump up and change into my own clubbing gear, before common sense takes over and I remain rooted to the sofa.

"Hot stuff!" Kayla giggles at the Scottish girl.

"Bet you never wore anything like THAT on the farm," I giggle.

"Aye," Lauren says. "Kinda why I don't live on the farm anymore!" Kayla and I both laugh as the taxi picks Lauren up for her big night, before turning our attention back to the television.

"I DID kinda want to stay in tonight for a reason," I say, picking up the Sky+ remote. "The best show in the world came back on Monday..."

"Game of Thrones?" Kayla asks, before scrunching up her nose. "Not a fan... My boyfriend tried to make me watch an episode, I nearly threw up halfway through. What else have you got on your Sky+ box?"

"Umm, we've only lived here a month, not much," I say, inwardly yelling with frustration at the thought of my plans being thwarted yet again.

"Let's have a look at the box sets," Kayla says, snatching the remote out of my hand. Within minutes, she's found a digital box set of Glee- HER favourite show- and we while away the night watching the show (which, in fairness, IS entertaining). As I climb into bed at 11:30pm (after tucking Kayla in on our sofa bed), the frustration lessens, especially after I remember the advice of Dr Phillips from earlier in the day- it's not like the show I want to watch is going anywhere, after all. The question is, is Stephanie...?

I wake up the following morning at 8am to discover Kayla still asleep on the sofa bed and Lauren, unsurprisingly, still in a VERY deep sleep in her own bed. I quickly take advantage of the situation to shower, shave and get dressed for the day (well, the day TIME, anyway) in a casual ruffled black miniskirt, a fashionable striped top and patterned tights, before padding into the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Figuring that Lauren will be hungover, I brew a pot of strong black coffee and fry some bacon- and as the dishevelled-looking Scottish girl stumbles through the door a few minutes later, I can tell that my suspicions are correct.

"Ugh, WHY do you have to be up so early?" Lauren moans as she rests her head on the kitchen table.

"Why do YOU have to be out so late?" I giggle, shoving a cup of coffee under Lauren's nose.

"I'm eighteen, suddenly rich and about to be world famous," Lauren chuckles. "Sue me for enjoying some of the perks..."

"Can't say I blame you, I suppose," I say. "Even if you ARE setting a bad example for the kids..." Lauren and I both giggle as we stare out at Kayla, still fast asleep on our sofa bed. With 45 minutes Kayla and Lauren have both recovered from their slumber and hangover respectively, and dressed and ready for our second shopping trip of the week- and as with Monday's trip, I find myself enjoying every second as the three of us try on dress after dress, eventually settling on two very fancy frocks each, one of which I change into immediately upon returning home. The dress is GORGEOUS- it's scarlet red ('my' colour), with wide shoulder straps, a crisscross back (that necessitates the use of a bra with clear straps) and a flared, knee-length skirt. Kayla's dress is equally beautiful- a strapless knee-length gown in pink chiffon with extra-high matching stilettos, and Lauren's dress is very elegant- also knee-length with a flared skirt, but in a dark cobalt blue with a plunging back. After we fix our make-up- including thick eye shadow and eyeliner, fake eyelashes and deep red lipstick- we (and our armfuls of presents) hop in a waiting taxi and are whisked away to the house of millionaire model and socialite Charlotte Hutchinson, unofficial 'leader' of our 'extended family'. However, it's not Charlotte we're here to see, but a tall, dark-skinned girl who we immediately spot, wearing a long, elegant silver-coloured dress and the widest smile I have ever seen anyone sport.

"Oh my god, you guys!" Adeola gushes as we hand her her presents. "This is so awesome, thank you all so much!"

"You haven't even opened them yet!" Lauren giggles.

"Don't need to, I KNOW they'll be great!" Adeola laughs as she tears into her presents, giving genuine, heartfelt thanks and big hugs to all of us with every one she unwraps. Even the traditional dress earns all three of us hugs. Adeola's reaction is a far cry from the restrained reaction Becca gave to her birthday presents last month- and as I gaze over at our 'lead singer', I can tell that she's NOT happy at having to yield the centre of attention, even if it is only for one night.

As the night wears on, I find myself enjoying the party more and more- having a steady supply of alcohol to 'lubricate' any tense social situations always helps, as does NOT being the centre of attention, despite the sometimes awkward questions about my life that I have to field. Fortunately, people are mostly interested in Stephanie the singer, rather than Stephanie the girl, and as the clock ticks 1am and the party slowly disperses, I actually wish I could stay a little longer. Even the sight of Stuart and Jamie cuddled up together like an old married couple doesn't put me off, as unsure as I am about my feelings for the transman- though I do make a mental note to mention them the next time I speak to Dr Williamson.

Lauren, Kayla and I stumble through our front door just after 1:30am and we all immediately retire to our beds. My alarm clock wakes me at 8am, but rather than get up, I curse at myself for not having switched it off and try to get back to sleep instead. My head IS pulsing enough for me to need additional time in bed to shake off the hangover, but it's clear enough for me to remember most of what happened last night- and how much I enjoyed it. I told Dr Phillips I wanted to know who the 'real Stephanie' was- and I'm slowly beginning to find out.

...Though as I scrub my face clean of last night's make-up in the bathroom mirror, I realise that there'll never be a 100% 'real' Stephanie as love as 'Steve' exists- and, even more frighteningly, the reverse is true as well. It's been six days since I was last Steve, and every day I spend hanging out with my new friends, every day I spend singing, or attending parties causes Steve to slip further and further away from me. Of course, I could allow him to slip away- become Stephanie 24/7. I could even come out to my parents- I'm financially independent enough that I don't need their support- and start 'living the lie' until it eventually becomes the truth... But I don't want to. I NEED Steve in my life as much as I needed Stephanie when I was younger, back when she first became a part of my life.

I shave and apply a light layer of make-up, but I remove the nail polish Lauren had so carefully applied on Monday and touched up last night, and after dressing in a very plain grey top and denim skirt, I head into my bedroom where I retrieve my trusty backpack from the back of my wardrobe, stuffing a pair of jeans, two t-shirts and two pairs of boys' underwear into it and zipping it shut.

"I'm heading out now," I say to Lauren and Kayla, who are sprawled out on the sofa half-watching TV.

"Okay," Lauren moans, clearly still feeling the effects of the previous night. "Have fun at your aunt's."

"What's this now?" Kayla asks.

"Steph's got an aunt she sees at the weekends," Lauren explains before I have the chance to reply. "Apparently the only member of her family who accepted her after she came out..."

"Yeah," I say, thankful to Lauren for remembering and repeating my lie.

"Oh, cool!" Kayla says. "Can I meet her?"

"Yeah," Lauren agrees. "Come on, Steph..." And here I was thanking you for getting me out of Thursday night, Kayla... I angrily think to myself.

"Her place is TINY," I explain. "...Maybe some other time."

"Eh, fair enough," Lauren says, returning her attention to the TV. "See you tomorrow, Steph." I grin as I leave the flat and head to the nearest McDonalds, quickly completing what is now an automated change from 'Stephanie's clothes into 'Steve's clothes. It actually feels strange not to have any make-up on my face, or a bra pulling on my chest and shoulders, or a pair of tights clinging to my legs, but at the same time it doesn't feel strange- it feels right.

"Hi mum!" I say as I step through the front door of my family home, dropping off my bag in my room before heading downstairs to be greeted by an unexpected surprise.

"Alright Steve?" Tom- my older brother- says with a smile.

"What are you doing here?" I ask as I crash down on my usual spot on the sofa.

"'Hi Tom', 'nice to see you bro'," Tom jokes.

"Hi Tom," I sigh, making our mother laugh.

"Hi Steve," Tom laughs. "And to answer your question, I dropped in to see mum, same as you. Heard you've got your own place now, is that right?"

"Yep," I say to the 28 year old man, who I haven't seen since my birthday in January.

"AND a girlfriend," mum teases.

"Oh, really?" Tom laughs. "So you're NOT gay then?"

"Hilarious," I retort. Growing up, Tom and Dan- my other brother- would constantly tease me, accuse me of being gay as though it was supposed to be an insult... Their heads would probably spin through 360 degrees if they learned the truth. "And we're not REALLY serious," I continue.

"You've been going out for a month," mum says. "Surely you're getting serious by now?"

"Welcome to 2015, mum," Tom laughs. "Seen the new season of Thrones yet?"

"Not yet," I say, my eyes lighting up at the mention of the show I know Tom loves just as much as I do. "New place doesn't have Sky..."

"Mum?" Tom asks, holding out his hand expectantly. After sighing and chuckling, mum hands my brother the Sky+ remote, and we both sit back as the familiar theme tune blares forth from the television. As I lose myself in the show, I suddenly find myself thinking about my two newest friends sat on the sofa at 'home', doing the exact same thing I'm doing right now- only with a different TV show, no doubt. If they were to see me now, they'd no doubt disown me as quick as my mother and brother would if they saw that I got up to during the week... And yet I can't give either life up. My family will always be my family, and yet Lauren and Kayla have quickly become like sisters to me, as have Becca and Adeola (albeit to a lesser extent). Jamie is like the big sister I never had, and Stuart... I don't even know WHAT to think about him.

My mental list of things to talk to Dr Phillips just grows and grows, but as the show I've waited five days to watch draws to an end and Tom and I get chatting, I finally have an answer to the question I was posed by my counsellor. Would I rather live life as a girl, or as a boy? The answer, quite simply, is both. Just a shame it's not that easy...

I take a deep sigh as I step out of the small clinic, my face tingling from the lasers that had swept their way over it mere minutes earlier. Despite my face being make-up free- and covered with a very patchy 5 o'clock shadow- no one gives me a second look as I head down to the tube train that ferries me to my next destination. Well, that's not strictly true, people ARE giving me a second look, but not because of the hair on my face, but because of the pink tights covering my legs, visible underneath my extra-short denim skirt.

I step off the tube a short while later and head up the short flight of stairs into the familiar setting of Krystie Fullerton's dance studio, which today stands deserted but for six people- Krystie, myself and my four band mates. After I strip off my skirt and my grey, feminine-cut t-shirt, I go and stand next to my bandmates, who are all dressed identically to me- in skimpy black leotards and pink tights.

"Hey Steph!" Adeola says, greeting me with a hug. "Face still sore?"

"It's tingling, sensitive," I explain. "Not really 'sore'..."

"Just as long as your hips and legs are okay!" Krystie laughs, capturing the attention of the entire band. "Tomorrow will be the real thing- you'll be doing this in costume, and I appreciate the costume is very different from the dancewear you're wearing now but I need to be 100% sure you've got all the steps right, that you can move together as a group."

"You will be there tomorrow, right?" Kayla asks, the nerves evident in her tiny voice.

"I choreographed the routine, I'd be kinda negligent if I wasn't!" Krystie laughs. "Honestly, you'll be fine. Do you all remember your notes from the last practice?" How can I forget? My list was about a mile long... Out of sync with my bandmates, lip syncing to the music was all over the place, not projecting enough, whatever that means...

"Okay," Krystie says after we nod our agreement. "Positions, please..." Krystie presses a button on her remote control, and within seconds, the opening lines of 'Heaven is a Place on Earth' blare through the dance studio- not the Belinda Carlisle original, but the version recorded by myself and my bandmates almost two months ago. Stuart has worked his magic and knitted our multiple takes together into a track that's a match for any girl band on the market today- now it's the turn of us five girls to 'sell' the track with our complicated dance moves.

After fifteen runs through of the routine, however, I'm just about ready to collapse. The choreography isn't really that difficult- it's mostly arm positions, the occasional step, a few turns... But doing it over and over again for two hours is ridiculously draining, and I can tell that I'm not the only one who thinks so.

"I need," Kayla announces as she pulls her loose dress back on, "the coolest, sweetest drink that money can buy."

"I need TWO of them," I say, making my bandmates all laugh.

"Just wait until we're selling out the O2," Becca laughs smugly. "You'll have to do this all live on stage, no retakes..."

"People don't go to live performances expecting a perfect performance," Adeola retorts. "They go for the experience, to say that they've seen Out of Heaven in the flesh."

"Yeah, true," Becca laughs. "I know I've been practising my signature for the inevitable autograph frenzy..." I don't even HAVE a proper 'Stephanie' signature, when I signed the contracts I simply printed 'Stephanie Abbott'...

"What's everyone got planned for tonight?" Adeola asks. "Other than autograph practice, that is!" You read my mind, Adeola...

"Back to Southampton, getting pampered by my boyfriend!" Kayla laughs. "You?"

"Probably dinner with my uncle," Adeola laughs.

"It's nobody's birthday this week then?" I ask, prompting chuckles from the other four girls.

"Week on Saturday, I think," Adeola replies. "That's the next one. Your bank balance can breathe out for another week!"

"I have a very tall, very blond boy waiting for me at home!" Becca announces dramatically as she skips out of the studio and into a waiting taxi. "See you all tomorrow!"

"See you," Lauren says. "Looks like it's a night in front of the sofa for us, then!"

"Looks that way," I say, forcing out a giggle as we head to the nearest tube stop and head back to our posh flat.

"Funny to think that in just a week's time, everyone's going to know our faces..." Lauren muses. "Exciting, isn't it?"

"Yeah," I laugh, though exciting isn't the word I'd use- a more appropriate word would be 'terrifying'. Over the last six weeks, the five of us have finished recording our album, which is now in Stuart's tender hands being finalised, the tracks being brought up to the standard of the track we danced to earlier today. Once our video has been edited, it'll be released on the band's official YouTube and Facebook pages- our 'public debut'. Our agent has already put out plenty of promotional material, and there's certainly hype surrounding our 'debut', but we ourselves haven't done much beyond singing and dancing behind closed doors.

What's most terrifying is that a lot of the inevitable publicity will centre on me, as the band's 'unique selling point'. New girl bands are ten a penny, but a girl band with a transgendered singer? THAT's something different. I've received training and coaching- mostly from Jamie- on how to conduct myself in interviews, how to handle the inevitable media intrusion into my life... And every new thing I learn makes me feel more and more ill. Especially as I'll have to field inevitable questions about my transition- the answers to which will be fabrications- and about my parents. My parents don't make a point of watching any of the shows I'll be interviewed on, but as they both work shifts, there's always that possibility that they'll hear their son say something derogatory about them on television... Whilst pretending to be their daughter. Work of this variety has already started, in fact- last month Jamie roped me into doing a 'make-a-wish' style gig for a teenaged transgendered girl who was sick, which was one of the most uncomfortable experiences of my life. Needless to say, Jamie's promised me plenty more work like this in the future, whether I like it or not.

The only consolation is the inevitable income we've been promised. Even if our debut video flops and the band breaks up after a year, we're still projected to make enough income to live VERY comfortably for the next twelve months. And I'll still have contacts in the music industry, may even be able to retain professional representation... Professionally, I'm set for life.

The same, however, can't be said of my personal life. I see Dr Phillips every week to talk through my feelings- she is the only person I can be truly honest to, and if it wasn't for her I'd have had a breakdown a long time ago. She obviously still advises me to come clean to my employers about my 'true' status- though with much of the publicity being focussed on my 'false' status, that's even less of an option than normal. Though as I spend more and more time in 'Stephanie mode', it becomes more and more natural acting and living in a feminine way... To the extent that it's becoming harder and harder to remember how to act like a man on those rare occasions I can slip home and 'be Steve'. I try to keep reminding myself that this is my dream life- for over six years I've been obsessed with what it would be like to live life as a woman, and I don't need to obsess anymore, and as my 'make-a-wish' proved last month, there are 'real' transgendered girls out there who would kill for the life I have. I AM lucky... And yet there are days when all I want to do is strip off the make-up, take off my bra and my panties and collapse on the sofa in a plain pair of shorts and a t-shirt, especially now that the summer months have arrived. In past years, the summer heat had helped to lessen my desire to 'be Stephanie'- wearing hot, tight clothing in summer months isn't exactly pleasant, after all. And yet now, I have to 'be Stephanie' more than ever...

And then there's Stuart. Thankfully, Dr Phillips has helped there as well, her professional respect for doctor-patient confidentiality holding true despite her also being Stuart's counsellor, his girlfriend's counsellor AND the mother of one of their close friends. My feelings for him still remain even though logically, I know nothing can ever happen between us. Every time we're alone together, which thankfully isn't often, it generates feelings inside me that I can barely handle, especially as I'm increasingly confused as to 'what' I am- a heterosexual boy, a heterosexual girl, a homosexual girl or boy, bisexual, all of the above, none of the above... I've sort-of settled on 'none of the above' as my 'default setting' for now, helped by the fact that taking oestrogen tablets dulls your libido. If only I was actually taking those tablets...

"Home, sweet home!" Lauren laughs as she crashes on the sofa, stretching her tired and sore body out. "Sofa, sweet sofa!"

"Confident you've got everything down for tomorrow?" I ask.

"More or less," Lauren sighs. "You would too if you didn't keep skipping ballet lessons..."

"Yes, yes," I sigh.

"Steph..." Lauren asks. "You ARE still enjoying this, right? I mean this is it, this is what we all signed up for. Fame and fortune just a few days away..."

"Can you honestly tell me you're not terrified?" I ask.

"...Maybe a little," Lauren sighs. "Though this is what I've wanted my whole life, I'm not going to let anything, ANYTHING get in my way." Thanks for piling on the pressure there, Lauren... If I do come clean to my employer about my 'true' status, it's not just my career that I'm jeopardising.

I get an early night but I barely sleep. Whilst I obviously have no problem with singing, one thing I'm learning about life as a singer- especially a female singer- is that using your voice is only a small part of singing. Tomorrow- even though it'll only be in front of a camera crew- I'm going to have to PERFORM. And when I wake up the following morning, my nerves haven't subsided- if anything, they've intensified... But a feeling of relief flows through my body when I see Lauren already awake, sitting on the sofa with her eyes closed. From the quiet whispers that are leaving her mouth, she's clearly mentally running through our entire routine over and over again.

"'Maybe a little' terrified?" I tease the Scottish girl, who frustratedly snorts at me.

"Remember our first day?" Lauren asks. "The first take of the first song of our first day, and I fuck it up by forgetting my lines?"

"You'll be fine!" I laugh. "Even in costume... Do we have any idea what they'll look like yet?"

"Something Angel-related, no doubt," Lauren sighs. "7:30... No putting this off any longer!"

"This time next year, we'll be millionaires!" I laugh. "Assuming I don't trip over my own feet..." After allowing Lauren to go into the shower first, I take my turn, allowing the hot water to cascade over my body, praying that it'll wash away my tension. I only need to apply a light layer of make-up- there'll be professional make-up artists at the studio- and I pull on a very plain bra and thong set, followed by a plain knee-length red dress. Even though it's been a couple of days since I last shaved my legs, they're still smooth enough for me to forego tights- which is a relief in the hot June weather.

When Lauren and I arrive at the studio, Becca, Adeola and Kayla are already there, and if they're suffering from any nerves, they certainly aren't allowing them to show through, much to my irritation. Becca in particular is showing off, doing random ballet steps (even though she's wearing high heeled shoes) before Adeola opens a music file on her phone and ropes her into recreating the dance routine made famous by the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, set to 'Apache' by the Sugarhill Gang. Lauren, Kayla and I even join the routine the second time round, and while it does calm our nerves slightly, they return in full force when our costumes are finally revealed... And they're nothing like what I was expecting.

I had anticipated dancing in the leotard dresses we'd worn for our promotional shoots, maybe with Angel wings tied to the back, but instead we're wearing something considerably more revealing. The bodice of the dress is a white boned corset, laced at the back to take in our already-slim waists by a couple of additional inches- enough to give us curves, but not so tight that we can't comfortably move. The corset even gives me a little cleavage- making the most of what little breasts I DON'T have. The skirts of the dresses are made of see-through white organza, with just enough layers to hide our underwear (over which we wear fishnet tights), and we're all wearing high-heeled knee-high white boots. In addition, we're wearing fingerless fishnet gloves- also in white- and we have, as predicted, large Angel's wings attached to the backs of our corsets and Halos with flashing LEDs above our heads. In addition to the thick make-up- including dark eye shadow, thick red lipstick and white nail polish- I feel utterly ridiculous. It's some consolation when I see the other girls in their costumes, looking and feeling equally as uncomfortable.

"I guess it helps to remember that this IS a costume," Kayla says. "It's supposed to be mad, out there, in-your-face..."

"And they couldn't have chosen anything that clashed even MORE with my skin colour?" Adeola whines as we head on set to a round of applause and loud cheers- the loudest of which come from our choreographer.

"We're here to do a job, girls!" Becca announces with a smug smile on her face.

"We're going to be doing the whole routine all the way through first," Krystie announces. "Four or five times ought to be enough. Then we'll do a few shots of you individually, just fun stuff. And just a reminder, you don't need to sing- lip syncing will be fine."

"Okay," Carl- our director- announces. "Positions please." We each take our place in front of the giant green backdrop that been placed behind us, and I feel like my heart is going to explode, it's beating so fast. However, once the music starts, I almost go into 'autopilot'- my arms and legs begin to move in time with the music, almost independent from my brain. By the time the second verse starts, I'm in the 'groove'- and for the first time, I actually believe I can finish the routine without a single mistake- and it's at that exact moment that disaster strikes.

The entire moment plays out almost in slow motion- I turn around to face the camera, in perfect time with the other girls, when the entire studio seems to tilt to one side. It takes a second for my brain to catch up with what's happening, but once it does, I quickly realise that it's not the studio that's tilting, nor is it me- but rather the person in front of me.

"Whoa!" Becca yells, utter panic etched into her voice as she pitches over and lands, hard, on her backside. The entire studio falls silent for what feels like an eternity as Becca remains seated on the floor, a look of shock on her face that's soon replaced with one of sheer embarrassment as she shakily picks herself up.

"Okay, cut there," Carl says quietly, as the atmosphere in the room suddenly tenses up. It's clear that no one wants to say anything about Becca's mistake, but a quick glance back at my bandmates reveals that they're in full agreement with me- the mistake couldn't have happened to a nicer person.

"First positions, please," Carl says as we return to our starting positions- though Becca's face is now a much deeper shade of red than it was at the start of the previous take. "Do- do you need a moment?"

"Let's just get this done," Becca says with a shaky voice. Our second take goes perfectly, as does our third, after which our director gives us some time to get our breath back (which is much needed in our tight corsets). Unsurprisingly, Becca makes straight for the refreshment table to grab a bottle of water, leaving the rest of us watching in awkward silence.

"Addie," Lauren whispers. "Should- should you-"

"Why me?" Adeola whispers back, clearly nervous at the prospect of confronting her friend.

"You're her best friend," Kayla whispers.

"I'll talk to her," I say, before confidently striding over to the dark-haired girl.

"They can't even get the bottled water right," Becca grumbles to herself as I approach.

"Are- are you okay, Becca?" I ask, grimacing as our 'lead singer' turns around with a look of fury on her face.

"Fine, thanks!" Becca says with barely-restrained anger, before rolling her eyes and sighing. "Sorry, Steph... Can we just get back to it, please?"

"Sure," I whisper, taking a quick drink of water before returning to the stage. Takes four and five also go perfectly- especially as the tension caused by Becca's mistake seems to have greatly eased. After the end of take five, Carl calls me to one side to speak to me- and I can't help but notice the smug smile this puts on Becca's face.

"Steph," Carl says quietly. "You're doing the steps fine, but you're kinda... Serious."

"'Serious'?" I ask, confused by the man's meaning.

"Yeah," Carl grimaces. "It's kinda like you're concentrating too hard, you need to let yourself go a little more, have a little more fun, even goof off a bit if need be."

"I'm not really an actor, or a dancer," I complain.

"Well..." Carl says. "We've got four really good takes in the bag, tell you what, how about this next one I'll just instruct everyone to mess around a bit?" I smile as I nod and return to the stage, trying to ignore the stares of my bandmates.

"Okay," Carl announces. "We're going to do one more run-through, but for this one, don't take it as seriously, concentrate less on the choreography, more on just having fun."

"Can do!" Becca says on behalf of the band as we once again find our first positions. About half-way through the song, I notice that my band mates have taken the director's instruction to heart- rather than the perfectly-performed steps of the first five takes (well, takes 2-5, anyway), Becca and Adeola are messing around much more, 'experimenting' with the choreography. Rather than mimic their 'unusual' steps, I instead allow myself to relax and laugh at their antics. As a result, my dancing is much, much sloppier than before- but I'm simply doing as my director instructed, and at the end of the take, all five of us are filled with giggles, and they only get louder as Krystie brings out a bag of small, inflatable globes similar to the ones in the original Belinda Carlisle music video. For the final 'full group' take, we have the globes hurled at us throughout the song, causing us to crack up entirely as the globes quickly get thrown back to the crew hurling them at us- and several get thrown between the five of us, including one from me that nails Becca square in the back of the head.

"That was great, girls!" Carl says at the end of the take.

"We're going to break now, get some lunch," Krystie explains. "We've laid on a buffet, so just help yourselves!" After donning long dressing gowns (to protect our costumes), the five of us head to the buffet table, though none of us eat much, thanks to a combination of our corsets and not wanting to be bloated for the afternoon's takes.

"That wasn't so hard," Lauren says between bites of her posh sandwiches.

"Yeah," Kayla concurs. "We've practised it to death, it's just second nature..." Kayla's voice trails off as Becca stares at her with a look of pure fury in her eyes- it's clear she's still smarting about her ;mistake' in the first take, even if that was almost two hours ago.

"When are they thinking of launching the video?" I ask, trying to defuse the tension.

"My uncle wants it out by the weekend," Adeola says. "Only a few days left of anonymity, enjoy it while it lasts!"

"Assuming you ever enjoyed it in the first place!" Becca laughs, licking her fingers clean. "Where DID they get this chicken from? It's bloody awful..." Lauren, Kayla and I exchange tired glances as Becca leads us back to the stage to record our 'solo' clips. This takes seemingly forever as we run through the song another three times each, though this time at least there's no 'formal' choreography, simply gently dancing in front of the camera whilst lip-syncing. This is even harder than the 'group' dances as, for the first time, I have to 'perform' the song individually- not just sing it, but sing it into a camera, with everyone else watching as I do so. Becca, of course, insisted that we do our individual pieces in 'reverse alphabetical order of surnames', meaning that she gets her piece out of the way first, and I, of course, have to wait until the very end. To rub salt into the wound, by the time I finish my final take, Becca's already changed back into her casual clothes, as has Adeola- even though her 'turn' was immediately before mine.

"Beautiful stuff," Carl says at the end of my final take. "And that, ladies, is a wrap!" The five of us applaud as the stagehands enter and start dismantling the set, whilst Lauren, Kayla and I head to change out of our costumes for (hopefully) the last time.

"I can breathe!" Kayla giggles as I untie the laces of her corset.

"Oh please," Lauren laughs. "Hardly noticed any difference in your waist..." I giggle as I start to unlace my own corset, only to stare at my reflection in the mirror- my waist is narrow, my hips are wider and my chest is the most feminine it's ever looked... Part of me wants to stay like this for as long as possible. Another part of me, however, can't wait to get back into the dress I wore to the studio. And then there's the part of me that just wants to go home, pull on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and crash on the sofa...

"Come on, Steph!" Kayla laughs. "Don't want to keep butt-bounce waiting..."

"That is NOT going to be her new nickname!" I say as Lauren doubles over in a fit of giggles.

"'Butt-bounce Becca'," Lauren snorts. "Has a nice ring to it! And seriously, Steph, get that corset off already!"

"Yeah, okay," I sigh happily as I unlace the tight garment, taking a deep breath as my slender waist is uncompressed.

"Ahh," Lauren says, seemingly noticing the problem as she stares at my suddenly masculine-shaped back. "You know, it's not like they don't sell corsets online, or, um, in shops..."

"I'll be fine," I say, pulling on my dress just in time for Krystie to poke her head around the door of the changing room.

"Hey, got a sec?" The choreographer asks. "Becca and Adeola are heading out for a meal, you know, to celebrate the video, wanted to know if you three wanted to go as well?"

"I'm kinda under-dressed for a fancy restaurant!" Lauren giggles as she pulls on her short denim skirt.

"Reservation isn't until seven," Krystie says. "Plenty of time to go home and change."

"Yeah, if you lived in London!" Kayla laughs as she buttons up her own short shirt dress.

"I'll lend you a dress, don't worry," Lauren says. "You can crash at ours tonight too, right Steph?"

"Of course!" I giggle, even though right now, crashing at our flat is what I want to do more than anything else.

Nonetheless, a couple of hours later, I sit down at a table in a posh restaurant with my four bandmates, wearing my best make-up, what little jewellery I have, red nail polish and my smartest blue dress and blue heels.

"To Out of Heaven!" Becca toasts, all five of us clinking our glasses in agreement.

"It's amazing to think," Kayla says in a breathless voice. "I mean, this is it, make or break..."

"Oh, 'make' definitely!" Adeola giggles.

"But seriously," Lauren says. "You never... You never stopped to think about what might happen if the video ISN'T a hit?"

"My uncle's the best publicist in the country," Adeola says confidently. "You could've got a 4 year old to draw the video in crayon and he'd still have made it a hit. We ARE gonna be famous, you mark my words."

"And I can't think of four girls I'd rather share my fame with," Becca says with a genuine-looking smile.

Kayla, Lauren and I arrive back at our apartment just after 11pm, utterly exhausted from the day but still buzzing with excitement- or at the very least, buzzing with nerves.

"Notice how Butt-Bounce and Adeola booked the restaurant without even consulting us?" Kayla asks as I unfurl the sofa bed for her.

"Meh, I enjoyed it," I say.

"Oh don't get me wrong, I did too," Kayla says. "It's just... I dunno. Kinda went into this thinking it was going to make ME a star, rather than me helping someone else- who is already kinda famous- to be an even bigger star."

"You're a better singer than me and Steph put together!" Lauren chuckles. "Trust me, you ARE gonna be a star."

"Absolutely," I say, trying not to make it too obvious that I'm not staring at Kayla as she undresses and climbs into bed. "Would it- would it make me sound stuck up it I said I was in it for the music rather than for the fame and fortune?"

"YES," Kayla and Lauren reply simultaneously, making me double over in a fit of giggles.

"Okay, fine!" I laugh. "Bring on the paparazzi, the huge, fat cheques and the TV appearances!"

"Five quid says I get invited on Strictly before either of you!" Lauren giggles.

"You're on," I say with a giggle. "'Night, you two."

"'Night Steph," Kayla and Lauren both says as I head into my bedroom and crash on the bed, letting out a long sigh as the stress of the day finally leaves my body. It's only now, as I stare into the darkness, that I realise that my time is truly up. The question to 'how am I going to stop my parents from seeing any of the band’s publicity' is simple: I can't. Adeola's right: her uncle IS one of the country's best publicists. He turned six ordinary girls- well, okay, one was a millionaire heiress, one was her transgendered lookalike, but the other four were ordinary girls- into bona fide superstars virtually overnight. No doubt the same will happen to me. My parents might not be able to name any of the Angels, but they know who they are... And soon they, and the rest of the country, will know who Out of Heaven are as well.

This thought still occupies my mind as I stumble out of bed just after 10am, showering, applying my make-up and dressing in a very plain, very anonymous black skirt and grey tank top. Even though it's warm outside, I still pull on a pair of black tights, just an additional 'layer of anonymity'.

"Mmph..." Kayla moans as I step past her slumbering form on my way to the kitchen. "Steph? What are you doing up so early?"

"Counsellor's meeting," I explain. "And 'early'? It's after ten!"

"What?" Kayla asks with a startled voice before checking her phone. "Aw, crap..."

"You didn't drink THAT much, did you?" I giggle.

"I didn't drink AT ALL," Kayla moans. "Stupid alcohol laws... Kinda promised my boyfriend I'd spend some time with him today, that's all..."

"Are we ever actually going to get to meet this boyfriend of yours?" I ask.

"Yes," Kayla sighs. "Are we ever going to meet this 'aunt' of yours that you go and meet every weekend?"

"At some point, probably," I say, turning my face so Kayla doesn't realise my obvious lie. "Lauren up yet?"

"Haven't seen her," Kayla replies, sliding her semi-naked body out of the makeshift bed. "Hope that means the bathroom's free!" I giggle as the tiny blonde girl disappears into the bathroom, before finishing my breakfast and heading out onto the street.

Even after months of living virtually full-time as Stephanie, it still surprises me that I can walk down the street and barely get a second glance from the passers-by. Okay, today, my short skirt and nylon-covered legs are attracting stares, but only the same kind of stares that 'real' girls' legs get. Before I joined the band, going out as 'Stephanie' was an adventure, an exciting challenge. Now it's just another part of my everyday life, to the extent that if I were to go out as 'Steve', THAT would be more nerve-wracking.

"Hi Stephanie," Dr Phillips says as I sit down on her soft, comfy chair. "How did the recording go yesterday?"

"Okay," I say. "How did you know it was yesterday?"

"Sarah told me," my counsellor replies, referring to her eighteen year old daughter who also happens to be a friend of mine and a fellow client of Heavenly Talent. "Now she's finished college she's gone back to her former hobby of stalking celebrities, especially those she's friends with... Don't worry, obviously I won't tell her that I'm your therapist!"

"Heh," I chuckle. "It's not really the video that's the issue, more what comes after it..."

"The 'fame and fortune' you were promised?" Dr Phillips asks.

"I mean, I knew that was the long-term goal when I accepted the role in the band," I sigh. "But now..."

"Now there's no hiding from it," Dr Phillips says. "And especially so in your case, I assume?"

"There's no hiding anymore," I say. "I've got to face up to the fact that my face is going to get known by potentially millions of people."

"...And your parents might be among those people?" Dr Phillips asks.

"Knowing my luck they'll probably be the first two," I sigh.

"I know my main role is to guide, rather than to advise," Dr Phillips says, "but-"

"You're going to tell me to just 'come out' to my parents, aren't you?" I ask with a weary voice.

"Every day you put it off, the lie grows larger and larger," my counsellor says. "What did you say your parents did for a living? Your mother was a nurse..."

"Mum's a nurse, dad's an ambulance driver," I say. "Used to be great for me as they both work shifts, I'd get plenty of opportunities to dress up... That was back when that was all it was, 'dressing up'."

"They're both occupations where you meet and interact with people from literally every walk of life," Dr Phillips says. "For that you would need a highly tolerant outlook on life. I wouldn't be surprised if you find that they're more upset about you going behind their back than they are about your 'dressing up'."

"Oh, they're tolerant," I say. "It's just different when it's their own offspring."

"If it's their own offspring, then they should be MORE tolerant, not less," Dr Phillips observes.

"'Should', yeah," I sigh. "Doesn't necessarily mean they WILL be..."

"There's only one way to find out for sure," Dr Phillips says firmly. I have a deep breath and nod, but as I leave the meeting fifty minutes later, I'm still mentally no closer to being able to tell my parents than I was at the start of the day. Talking with the counsellor helps me sort my thoughts out, but any actual productive action has to come from me, myself... And to say that that isn't easy would be an understatement.

I am, however, slightly more mentally prepared to deal with my upcoming stardom. As the counsellor for several transgendered celebrities, Dr Phillips has had to deal with stresses other than those caused by her patients' transitions. I have a whole folder full of techniques and testimonials from people in my position- including Jamie-Lee Burke herself- that I intend to study religiously.

"Lauren, you in?" I ask as I wearily step through my front door, only to be greeted by both Lauren AND Kayla. Both girls are clearly on their way out, and they both have HUGE smiles on their faces.

"Turn around, we're heading right back out!" Lauren giggles.

"Um, why?" I ask whilst doing as I'm told. "Kayla, I thought you were heading back to Southampton?"

"There's something even better than my boyfriend waiting for us where we're going!" Kayla giggles.

"They finished it!" Lauren squeaks excitedly. "They worked through the night- it's ready!"

"...The video? Already?" I ask.

"Ready enough to be able to show us a rough draft," Lauren says. "And ready enough to put out a few teaser clips to the media..." Time's up... I think to myself as the three of us jump onto the nearest Underground train, Lauren and Kayla barely able to sit still, they're that excited. When we arrive at Heavenly Talent's main offices, all three of us are greeted by tight hugs from both Becca and Adeola- both of whom are as excited as Lauren and Kayla.

"This is so cool!" Becca squeaks, bouncing up and down despite the fact she's holding hands with her tired-looking boyfriend. Suddenly, Stuart appears in the door to Joshua's office, and my breath catches in my throat as the excitement of the situation infects me as well. I'm nervously shaking as much as my bandmates as the five of us sit down in front of a large, projected image between Joshua's bookcases. Seconds later, the image is replaced by that of five young women, each wearing what can best be described as a 'sexy angel' costume. The five women begin singing and dancing, and it's only when my own face briefly appears on screen about twenty-five seconds into the song that I realise that the sexy woman on screen is indeed me.

After the video ends, Joshua switches off the projector and stands in front of the five of us with a proud smile on his face.

"Clips from the video have already been released to various websites," our agent states. "Initial feedback is very, very positive, and we're on course for a big launch of the full video this coming Saturday. A lot of people already want a piece of you girls, which is why I hope you have nothing booked for tomorrow morning!"

"...Tomorrow morning?" Becca asks. "So soon?"

"Strike while the iron's hot!" Joshua laughs. "It's only a six-minute interview but it's a start. I take it the five of you know Eamonn Holmes and Ruth Langsford?"

"I'm going to be on This Morning!?" Kayla squeaks, before realising her faux pas. "I'm sorry- WE'RE going to be on This Morning!?"

"Indeed you are!" Joshua booms. "This is your last day as an ordinary member of the public. From tomorrow, you'll all be superstars!"

As I step out of the office I feel like I'm going to throw up, I'm that nervous... And that excited... And that terrified. The other girls are all buzzing with excitement- I can tell that they're all slightly nervous too, which is understandable, but unlike me, they haven't got to go out and lie on live television...

The five of us go out for yet another meal, but this time it's just a quick one before we all turn in for an early night. After seeing Kayla off at Waterloo station, Lauren and I jump on the next Underground train home, though as we arrive home it's clear that neither of us are going to get much sleep tonight.

"This is it this is it!" Lauren squeaks. "I've already texted my parents, all my brothers, they're all going to be watching tomorrow!"

"Cool," I say, inadvertently lowering Lauren's mood.

"Oh god, Steph..." The Scottish girl sighs. "I'm sorry, I keep forgetting... But if your parents watch the show, they can't NOT be proud of you, surely? The face of the newest, hottest girl band in the world..."

"Yeah, it's the word 'girl' that might be the sticking point there," I say.

"You'll never know for sure unless you call them," Lauren says. "Let's face it, out of the five of us you're easily the most mature, you're clever, you're obviously talented and beautiful... Any parents would be proud to have you as their daughter." I actually have to blink back tears as my new friend pays me- Steph OR Steve- the most amazing compliment of my life.

"...Even when for the first nineteen years of your life, you'd been their son?" I ask. "You've got brothers, right?"

"Aye, three," Lauren replies.

"How do you suppose your parents would react if one of them suddenly announced that he wanted to live his life as a girl?" I ask.

"My folks are farmers, not fucking hillbillies!" Lauren laughs. "They'd tolerate- no, not tolerate, ACCEPT their new daughter for who they were."

"...You seem pretty sure of that!" I laugh.

"Why d'you think they kept having kids until they got a girl?" Lauren asks. "I'd be willing to bet it's the same with you, didn't you say you had two older brothers AND your parents were in their mid-fifties?"

"Early fifties, yes," I say, making Lauren laugh.

"Well there you go then!" The ginger girl says. "I'll bet a million quid that when your parents were pregnant they were DESPERATE for a girl."

"...Don't forget they kicked me out," I lie, desperate to end the conversation as quick as possible.

"And have you spoken to them since?" Lauren asks, catching me off-guard.

"...No," I reply in a small, feeble voice.

"I'll be you a million quid that if you did call them, they'd be happy to hear from you," Lauren says. "And this time next year, you'll have the million quid to pay me when I'm proved right!"

"A million if we're really lucky," I laugh as I head to my room. "Try to get some sleep, okay? Don't want to be yawning at Eamonn Holmes..."

"Hehe," Lauren giggles. "Night, Steph."

"Night, Lauren," I say. As I lay down on my bed, I muse that Lauren may well be right- in fact, it's more likely than not that she is right. My parents may well accept me as their daughter... But would they ever be able to accept me as their son again?

I wake up the following morning at 7am having got precious little sleep. Thankfully, the This Morning studio is only a short hop on the tube from where Lauren and I live, but we're still picked up by a taxi just after 8 o'clock, both of us toting overnight cases full of fashionable alternatives to the short, fun dresses we're both wearing. Our make-up is subtle, but chic- there'll be plenty of make-up artists at the studio to ensure that we look perfect before stepping on set.

Also present at the studio is Jamie-Lee, our unofficial 'media coach', who greets us both with excited hugs as we arrive.

"Nervous?" Jamie asks, giggling as both Lauren and I nod. "I'm not surprised... This brings back memories, though, it was right here in this studio that I had my first live interview... Of course, back then I was alone AND unaccompanied!" Lauren and I giggle again, before Kayla arrives, greeting all of us with hugs.

"God, this is so terrifying!" Kayla squeaks. "My whole family's gonna be watching, my boyfriend..."

"Just make sure you take several deep breaths before going on set!" Jamie laughs. "The presenters will be very professional, they won't be there to put you on the spot, they're there to promote the video and the single just as much as you are, they're NOT there to trip you up or catch you out. Now, let me look at the other outfits you've brought." Lauren, Kayla and I open our cases as Jamie looks through them, nodding her approval before selecting outfits for the three of us.

"I've asked the Angels' usual PA to have a once over the dressing room," Jamie explains as she guides us toward the vast room that's been laid on for our group. "It's all set up and ready for you. Word of advice: try to limit yourself to only ONE cup of coffee before the interview! And try to at least look like you're enjoying it!" Lauren, Kayla and I giggle nervously as Jamie shuts us in the room, before we change into our 'ordered' dresses- a cute, sleeveless red minidress in my case, to match my nails and the lipstick that will inevitably be applied to my face.

"Notice anyone missing?" Lauren asks with a smug smile.

"Yeah," Kayla laughs. "Aren't we supposed to be backing singers for two lead singers? You'd have thought they'd be on time for their first ever interview..." As if on cue, Becca and Adeola come crashing through the dressing room door, barely stopping to say 'hi' to the three of us before helping themselves to the treats that had been laid on.

"Mmph," Becca moans happily. "Have you tried these macarons yet? De-lic-ious!"

"We only just got here ourselves," I explain. "Where are your dresses?"

"Umm, you mean apart from the ones we're wearing?" Adeola laughs.

"Yeah," Lauren says as she changes into her own short, blue button-up dress. "You know, the ones Jamie recommended you wear?"

"Is Jamie here?" Becca asks with genuine surprise. "That's cute, giving you guys pointers..." I inwardly seethe at Becca's use of the word 'cute' as she continues stuffing her face with the treats.

"We've been on TV before," Adeola says in a condescending voice. "Plenty of times, in fact. We know what to wear, and what not to wear, you know?" I bite my lip to stop myself from responding- it wouldn't do the band any good to have its first blazing row in its first live interview, though looking behind me at Lauren and Kayla, it's clear that they're both as angry as I am at our bandmates' attitude.

Nonetheless, our anger is put to the side a few short minutes later as we're ushered into make-up, before being escorted onto the set where we meet Eamonn and Ruth, who introduce themselves as though they were just two ordinary people, rather than people who've been on television for literally decades. Our chance to chat only lasts a few short seconds though, before the familiar strains of the show's theme tune play, and it suddenly dawns on all of us that we are now live on television, being watched by literally millions of people.

"Welcome back," Eamonn says. I tune out as the presenters introduce the band, focussing instead on how I plan to answer any questions. As sod's law would have it, the first question is aimed directly at me.

"Steph," Ruth asks, "can you talk us through how you came to audition for the band?"

"It was fairly straightforward really," I answer, chuckling nervously. "I saw the advert for the auditions on Heavenly Talent's Facebook page- I follow them on there, obviously- I sent off my application form, and the next thing I know, I'm being called for an audition, followed by a second audition and a face to face interview." Much to my relief, the presenter simply nods, before turning her attention to Becca and Adeola.

"Now you two were already signed to Heavenly Talent before the audition process, weren't you?" Ruth asks, making the two girls chuckle with fake embarrassment.

"Yeah," Adeola says. "I'm actually Joshua Benedict- the owner's niece, so there's a lot of nepotism going on at the agency!"

"And I understand that your brother is the producer, is that right?" Eamonn asks Becca, who smiles smugly.

"Yep!" The dark-haired girl replies.

"So for you three," Ruth asks, turning back to myself, Lauren and Kayla, "it must feel like you're intruding in what is clearly a family affair?" So much for 'not putting us on the spot'...

"Not really," Kayla says as we all shake our heads. "We've been made to feel like we're as much a part of the family as Addie and Becca are."

"Definitely," I concur.

"And the band is breaking new ground," Eamonn continues, "as being the first girl band to have a transgendered member." Shit! Shit! Shit! I think to myself as I brace for the inevitable interrogation. "Steph, do you ever feel left out as a result of your 'status'?" I momentarily hesitate before answering- please let my parents be at work, or watching the other side...

"No, not at all," I say. "I don't even see myself as 'the token transgendered girl', I just see myself as 'one of the girls', just like Jamie-Lee is in the Angels." And the scary thing is, I DO see myself in that exact role...

"Sometimes I even forget that she was ever, you know, 'not a girl'," Lauren says, making me giggle happily.

"And Lauren," Ruth asks. "I understand that your first audition was the first time you'd ever left Scotland, is that right?"

"Absolutely!" Lauren laughs. "It's warm down here, my skin's still getting used to it!" Everyone in the studio laughs at Lauren's joke, before Ruth continues her questioning.

"That must have been scary," the presenter asks, "travelling to London for the very first time on your own, aged just seventeen?" Hang on, I think to myself. Is that it? 'Do you feel left out because you're transgendered?' 'No.' 'Fine. Next!' Is that going to be my entire contribution to this interview?

"It was terrifying the first time!" Lauren giggles. "It's still a bit scary and I've been living in London for the past few months..."

"You and Steph live together, right?" Eamonn asks, to which Lauren and I nod in response.

"Yep," I respond.

"Because you used to live on a farm before, didn't you?" Eamonn asks, and it takes me a brief moment to realise that he's still talking to Lauren, rather than to me.

"Aye," Lauren says. "A small sheep farm, a few miles outside Dingwall."

"This must be a huge culture shock then, moving to London?" Eamonn probes. I cast an aside glance at my bandmates, and it's clear that they are not in the least bit happy that Lauren is hogging all the limelight in this, our effective debut.

"Huge doesn't even start to cover it!" Lauren laughs.

"Your debut single is a cover of Belinda Carlisle's 'Heaven is a Place on Earth'," Ruth asks. "Who made the decision to launch with that song?"

"My uncle," Adeola laughs, clearly happy to steer the interview back toward herself. "Culturally, he's stuck in the 1980s!" All of us laugh at Adeola's joke, before Becca seizes the opportunity to continue.

"My brother thought it would be the ideal song for a new girl band," Becca explains. "And he was right, we all had so much fun recording it, and filming the video." Well, most of us had fun, I think to myself as I inwardly chuckle at Becca's 'butt-bounce'.

"We've got a few clips from the video here," Ruth says, as the cameras briefly switch off whilst the video plays on the television screens of everyone watching the interview. Mere seconds later, the cameras are back on, but all the nerves I had when they came to us at the start of the interview are gone- I'm almost enjoying this attention...

"You all look really great," Eamonn says. "I'm sure you'll all have a bright future ahead of you."

"'Heaven is a Place on Earth' by Out of Heaven will be available from all good music retailers on Monday," Ruth says to the camera before turning back to the five of us. "Girls, it was great talking to you today."

"Thank you," all five of us reply as Eamonn and Ruth turn back to the camera to introduce the next segment. My legs actually wobble as I stand up, the adrenaline thinning in my blood as the five of us are led off the set to our waiting 'coach', who has a massive smile on her face.

"You were all so amazing!" Jamie beams, giving each of us a quick hug. "You were all so natural up there, especially you, Lauren!" Lauren giggles bashfully as Jamie pays her compliment, though it's clear that she's loving every second of the attention- and that Becca and Adeola are not loving their lack of attention.

"And thanks for name-dropping me, Steph," Jamie teases, making me giggle. "Little bit of publicity is always appreciated! Now come on, let's get outside, I'm sure you've all got friends and family dying to get in touch with you!" I follow my band outside to where our bags are being loaded into a waiting taxi, but it suddenly dawns on me that unlike my bandmates- all of whom get on their phones the second they leave the studio- I don't actually have anyone who'll be dying to get in touch with me... At least, I hope I don't.

As expected- or at the very least, hoped for- when I switch on my phone, I have no notifications, no missed calls or messages. I smile sadly before slipping my hone back in my bag, watching the other girls as they all squeak excitedly into their phones.

"Oh, god, Steph, I'm sorry," Jamie sighs, momentarily startling me. "Here I am going on about 'friends and family'... I'm sorry, I just forgot..."

"Don't worry about it," I sigh. "These girls are my new family, anyway..."

"Hope that includes me," Jamie chuckles. "If not a 'big sister' then at least a 'favourite cousin'?"

"Of course!" I laugh. "And... Is it really bad that, you know, I wanted more of a fuss to be made about me during the interview? You know, because of 'what' I am?"

"They did seem to gloss over it a little," Jamie says. "But, like I say, any publicity is good publicity, you're going to have plenty of websites and shows banging down your door to get exclusives with you soon enough. I'm keeping an eye on pinknews.co.uk- nothing yet, but I wouldn't be surprised if they've already got on the phone to Joshua asking about you!"

"Oh my god," Becca says, injecting herself into my conversation with Jamie. "That was so awesome! Even if Braveheart did hog all the limelight..."

"Plenty of limelight to go around!" Jamie assures the brown-haired girl. "Like I was telling Steph, people will be banging down your door to get the first exclusive with you soon enough. In the meantime, let's get you back to the agency, I'm sure Joshua wants to have a word or two with you girls." Becca and I nod before getting in the taxi, where we're joined by the rest of the band (Jamie drives herself back to the agency). The car buzzes with energy on the short drive back to the agency, and when the five of us step through the front door of the posh office, we're immediately greeted by a loud standing ovation, led by none other than Joshua Benedict himself.

"My superstars!" Joshua booms. "Come up to my office- unless you want to be adored by your public a little longer!" The five of us smile as Joshua escorts us to his posh office, his smile only growing wider once we're inside.

"Reaction to your interview is almost universally positive," Joshua explains. "Twitter and Facebook all love you and your video. Yes, there are a few unpleasant comments, but we all know not to feed the trolls, right?" I smile weakly, knowing that all of the 'unpleasant comments' Joshua is talking about are almost certainly going to be about me.

"We're still on for the video launch on Saturday," Joshua continues. "We're holding a launch party at Charlotte's house on Saturday night, I expect you all to be there in your best dresses and your widest smiles!"

"Will you let us know if we're needed for any more interviews?" Kayla asks.

"Of course!" Joshua booms. "The second I hear about an interview, you'll hear about it. Now go, enjoy the rest of your day. My Angels hold their traditional girls nights out tonight- very soon it will the traditional Out of Heaven girls night out that the Angels are allowed to tag along to if they're very lucky!" The five of us smile widely as we're 'dismissed', but I pause before leaving the office.

"Joshua," I ask hesitantly.

"Something troubling you, Steph?" Joshua asks.

"Those 'unpleasant comments' you mentioned..." I mumble.

"Idiots!" Joshua snaps. "That's all they are, idiots!"

"...But they were about me, weren't they?" I sigh. "Can't help but feel that the band would have got off to a better start without me..." Or to put it another way, I think to myself, if you wanted to chop and change the band now...

"Nonsense!" Joshua snorts. "You are as much a part of this band as any of the other girls. Take it from someone who knows a thing or two about discrimination- it ALWAYS hurts. I moved to England in 1983 with a degree in communication from the university of Lagos, and I spent six whole months getting doors slammed in my face because of the colour of my skin, the accent with which I spoke... 32 years later, everyone who slammed a door in my face is practically kicking my door down to do business with me!"

"...Thanks," I say with a smile.

"You need a thick skin in this industry," Joshua continues. "I know those hormones of yours aren't going to make life any easier- or maybe they are, I don't know! But you'll always have support from this agency. And for what it's worth, I count at least fifty positive comments about you for every idiot!"

"It really means a lot to hear you say that," I say, trying not to gulp as I'm issued a sharp reminder of the fact that I've been lying to Joshua's face from the very first second I met him.

"Now go!" Joshua laughs. "Enjoy your night out, but save some energy for your big party tomorrow!" I grin as I leave the office, but the grin soon fades as I jump back in the taxi with Lauren and head back to our apartment. The hole I dug for myself has just got a lot deeper. Another glance at my phone confirms that either my parents didn't watch the interview or didn't notice that 'Steph' was in fact 'Steve', but there's no way I'm going to be able to stay under their radar forever- especially not with Joshua's media juggernaut behind me.

After a quick dinner, Lauren and I get changed into our fanciest clubbing dresses and head out on the 'traditional girls night out'. The still-seventeen Kayla headed back to Southampton earlier in the day, leaving us guilt-free about going out without her (and, more annoyingly, leaving me without an excuse to skip the night out). As Joshua predicted, our interview earlier in the day opened doors for us, doors that were typically opened by the Angels on earlier nights out. We (and a good portion of the 'extended family', including Jamie) spend the entire night being plied with free drinks in exchange for publicity photos of us having fun at the club- photos that I look at on Facebook the following morning as Lauren and I nurse our hangovers. It comes as no surprise to either of us when we receive emails mere minutes later to links of the very same images on several news websites, as well as clips of our interview and our still-unlaunched video.

"God, I didn't expect it to get this real this quickly," Lauren moans. "I've already had a request for an interview from the Daily Record... Who'd have thought that being Scottish would be such a career enhancer?"

"Who'd have thought that being transgendered WOULDN'T be?" I laugh.

"Yeah, sorry about that yesterday," Lauren laughs. "Didn't realise they'd focus on me so much..."

"Heh, don't apologise, you weren't the one asking the questions!" I giggle. "And in a way it's kinda flattering, that being transgendered is so unremarkable in this day and age... Kinda like it's the way it should be."

"It IS the way it should be," Lauren says. "Your life as a boy is in the past, where it belongs."

"Yes," I say, forcing out a laugh. "Besides, I think Becca would want an 'apology' before me..."

"Well she can literally fucking sing for it!" Lauren says, nearly causing me to choke on my coffee. "...We're not going to get much of a chance to talk like this in future, are we? Over our kitchen table, I mean. We'll be at interviews, on tours..."

"It's what we signed up for!" I say, though inside I feel a hundred times worse than Lauren must right now. If chatting over the kitchen table where we live is going to be difficult... How hard will it be to get back home as Steve?

Later that night, I pull on a sexy, short, tight red dress, matching stilettos and my best make-up and jewellery. For our 'debut', all five of us are being picked up by a limo and driven to Charlotte Hutchinson's mansion, where a red carpet has been laid out for us. There aren't quite as many photographers as you'd get at a typical west end premiere, but there are enough to nearly blind me as I stride up to the entrance of the house, where I pose with the rest of the band for a final shot before heading into the house. Unlike a typical Saturday night here, which only consists of the 'extended family', this is a proper celebrity party- there are plenty of famous faces I recognise from radio and TV, professional caterers are bringing round expensive hors d'oeuvres and there are plenty of photographers on hand... And they're all here for me. Well, me and my four colleagues. And as terrified as I am by the prospect of being 'found out' by my parents or my brothers... There's a very real part of me that's loving every second of this.

Every time I'd dress up as Stephanie in the past, I'd always imagine that I was some form of socialite at a party, or a big fashion or cosmetics show, or on a reality TV show like The Only Way is Essex or, indeed, The Angels. My dreams have literally come true... So why does a part of me want to run straight home, scrub off every last trace of 'Stephanie' and collapse on the sofa, Xbox controller in hand?

"I'm not used to playing second fiddle," Jamie says, snapping me out of my 'trance'. "Especially in my own home! Just this once though, I'll let you off!" I giggle as my unofficial 'mentor' and I grab sparkling glasses of champagne from a nearby waiter and survey the scene inside the vast room.

"For god's sake, I'm only nineteen," I sigh.

"And Kayla's only seventeen!" Jamie laughs. "Doesn't mean you both can't be superstars! I was going to save this for Monday, but I figure you may as well know now- we've had a LOT of interest in you! Joshua's got LGBT websites kicking his door down to talk to you, wanting to know about your transition, your relationship with your parents... Hope you're ready to be a role model!"

"Jamie, I-" I say hastily, before realising I have no idea how to finish my sentence- at least, not without destroying everything all my new friends have worked so hard to accomplish. 'Jamie, I'm not transitioning?' 'Jamie, I'm not really transsexual?' 'Jamie, I want to go back to being a boy?' How the hell would she take that, having transitioned herself?

"What is it, Steph?" Jamie asks me, concern written in her eyes.

"...I want to thank you," I say. "For everything you've done for me. You, Joshua, Stuart, everyone." Much to my relief, Jamie giggles and gives me a long, tight hug.

"That's what 'big sisters' are for!" Jamie laughs. "Now you need to get going, I think Joshua's about to do his thing..." I smile as I follow my bandmates to the cleared area at the edge of the room, where our manager is stood behind five ominous-looking microphones.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Joshua bellows into the microphone, though he could easily have made himself heard without the microphone. "We are here today because of five extremely beautiful, extremely talented young women. I give you Miss Rebecca Milton!" Becca strides on stage to loud applause, taking her place behind a microphone.

"Miss Adeola Benedict!" Joshua continues, as his niece strides on stage to yet more applause. "Miss Kayla Ford!" Kayla walks on stage, looking almost childlike behind the nine inches taller Adeola. "Miss Stephanie Abbott!" I walk on stage, and I smirk as- to me, at least- the applause I receive is noticeably louder than either Becca's or Adeola's.

"And Miss Lauren McTavish!" Joshua concludes, and my smirk briefly vanishes as Lauren receives the loudest applause out of all of us, but it quickly returns as I realise that the applause is for the band as a whole- and if anyone rather than me is going to be the 'megastar' of the band, I'd prefer it to be Lauren. In fact, I'd prefer it to be Lauren regardless...

"Normally I'd ask you to keep the noise down as there'd be a young baby trying to sleep upstairs, but I have it on good authority that he's staying at his father's house tonight," Joshua says, prompting laughter from the crowd. "So make some noise for Out of Heaven!" I blush a little as the applause starts again, louder than before, before the lights in the room dim and our video starts playing. At the end, we're treated to yet another round of applause as Joshua steps back up to his microphone.

"The video is now live on YouTube!" Joshua booms. "Feel free to link to it from all of your websites. The girls will now take brief questions from you all. If you're lucky, they may even sing a few bars of the song!" The room laughs once again as Joshua begins moderating questions from the assembled reporters- and again, most of them are directed at Lauren, hoping to make the most of her supposed 'rags to riches' story. One question, however, comes my way, and almost triggers a panic attack right there on the stage.

"This one's for Steph," the male reporter- whose face I can't see in the crowd- says. "How do you feel your parents would react, seeing that video?"

"Umm," I mumble, leading to an awkward silence that causes my stomach to churn. "I hope they'd be proud, I really don't know..."

"Because after you came out to them in January, their reaction was very negative, wasn't it?" The reporter persists.

"Yes," I lie. "I haven't spoken to them since... I hope that given time, they'll accept my decision and be proud of my success." My cheeks flush with every word I say- it couldn't be any more obvious that I'm lying through my teeth, but after a brief pause, the next question is directed to Kayla, causing me to let out a silent sigh of relief. As promised, we finish the Q&A session with a quick rendition of the chorus of our debut song, and it's the happiest I've been all night, further reinforcing the fact that I'm much happier being a singer than I am a 'superstar'.

The following morning, when I wake up, I'm greeted by the sight of Kayla and Lauren in the living room, going through review after review of our video on their iPads- and almost all the reviews are positive. The video has already been viewed over half a million times, and the single has thousands of pre-orders on both iTunes and Amazon. When I check my phone, I'm inundated with notifications of new twitter and Instagram followers, emails from the agency about upcoming interviews and TV appearances- most of the interviews will be over the telephone to newspapers or magazines, but the band has been booked onto BBC Breakfast on Tuesday morning, onto Lorraine the following day with the promise of even more TV appearances soon. The one notification on my phone that really makes my heart beat faster, however, is a missed call from my mother. I step back into the privacy of my bedroom before hitting redial.

"Hello?" Mum's familiar voice asks.

"Hi mum," I say in 'Steve's voice- a voice that now sounds wholly unnatural.

"Hi Steve!" Mum says. "You're sounding well, still working hard, I trust?"

"Harder than ever," I laugh. "How's dad?"

"He's fine," mum laughs. "Do you know what time you'll be over today?" I look over at the emails still rolling in on my iPad, the images of me on all the various news websites, and remember the two women in my living room, before sighing sadly.

"I... don't think I can really get away today," I say. "Sorry..."

"That girlfriend of yours hogging you all to herself?" Mum chuckles.

"You could say that," I laugh. "I'll try and get away next weekend." Though I know that if anything, I'm going to be even busier next weekend than I am today...

"Good," mum says. "And bring Kayla along as well, it's ridiculous that we haven't met her yet!"

"I'll see what I can do," I say with a smile, before my heart sinks at the sound of a knocking on my door. "...I'll talk to you soon."

"Talk soon, son," Mum says, before disconnecting the call.

"What's up?" I ask in my 'Steph' voice.

"Thought I heard a man in here," Lauren says, poking her head around the door. "Um, no offence, of course..."

"Just... Takes some time to warm my voice up in the morning," I laugh.

"You're a singer," Lauren laughs. "A PROFESSIONAL singer now. Shouldn't take that much time, surely?"

"Eh," I shrug, making Lauren laugh.

"We've found a clip of us on an entertainment channel," Lauren says. "Want to come and watch?"

"Hell yeah!" I laugh, hopping off my bed and following the flame-haired girl to the living room, where we watch said clip over and over again. We spend the whole day on the sofa, digesting our newfound fame. The band has even gained its own Wikipedia page in the last 24 hours, with Lauren gaining her own individual one shortly afterward. We are now officially famous... But as I stare down at my phone, all I want to do is head home to my parents and forget about the whole thing. The reality is that my life is now 'Superstar Steph' or 'bust'. Both options come with a high price- my family life and any chance of ever being male again for the former option, my fame and financial independence for the latter.

Why oh why did I ever put myself in this position?

"Come on, stop fading away," dad chastises me as I rest my head on the back of the sofa. "We haven't seen you in weeks, don't want to watch you sleep all through your visit!"

"Sorry," I mumble, blinking to try to keep my eyes open.

"Honestly, Steve," mum says, handing me a much-appreciated cup of tea. "Why don't you just take a week off and come back here, put your feet up, play on your Xbox and recharge your batteries? You don't know how many people I see everyday who works themselves to the point of exhaustion, some as young as you."

"You've worked at that shop for five months now," dad says. "You surely earned some time off by now?"

"Umm," I say, desperately wracking my tired brain for an excuse. "Kayla and I usually go away somewhere on my days off..."

"Ah, this so-called girlfriend of yours of whom we've seen no evidence whatsoever?" Dad asks.

"She's-" I say, before my father cuts me off.

"She's really shy, yes, I know," dad sighs. "Shy enough to not be able to meet her boyfriend's parents but not too shy that she can't get a boyfriend in the first place!"

"It's complicated," I say, inwardly laughing at just how true my words are- and how they're the first truthful thing I've said to my parents in a very long time.

"Well," dad sighs, "either way, you just take care of yourself, son. And don't leave it three weeks before your next visit!" Dad gives me a quick pat on my back as he grabs his high-visibility jacket and steps out the front door.

"And next time you visit," mum says, "try not to make it on a night when we're both heading out to work!" I giggle as mum fills me in on hers and dad's lives, as well as what's happening with my brothers, before she heads out herself, leaving me alone in the house. I take a deep breath and try to relax my brain, but it's to no avail as within seconds, tears come spilling out of my eyes.

"Shit!" I yell. "Shit! Shit! Shit!" I stare around the living room in which I spent a vast amount of my childhood, and I try to take in every last detail of the room as though it were the last time I'd ever set foot in it- because for all I know, it may well be.

Ever since of first single was released, the band's increased in popularity with every passing day. We're regularly booked on radio shows, we appear on TV and in magazines, and all five of us are regularly stopped on the street and pestered for autographs and selfies. All of this has considerably swollen my bank balance... And made it virtually impossible for me to 'be Steve'. The only reason I can get home today is because I was able to change into Steve's clothes at 'home' (Lauren was booked in for an interview, giving me the house to myself), and I can change back into Stephanie's clothes at my 'real home'. My old ploy of using the disabled toilet at a McDonald's is completely out of the question now- I haven't been able to go into a shop in weeks without people seemingly pointing and staring at me.

Somehow, and I don't know how, my parents haven't yet twigged about my rising celebrity. As shift workers, they're not big television watchers, and as they're in their fifties, aren't girl-pop enthusiasts either. On my official Facebook page, I'll occasionally get a comment from someone who claims to have known me from school, but the names usually don't ring a bell.

As the clock ticks over to 8:30pm and the sky starts to darken outside, I moan as though in pain, cuddling my denim-covered knees close to my chest as I gently rock back and forth on the sofa, not wanting to go back to the life I've spent most of the day hiding from. As I strip off my clothes, I can't help but muse that this is exactly how I used to feel every time I'd dress up as Stephanie- I'd relish every sensation the delicate feminine clothing gave me as I stepped into it. As I side the thong between my buttocks, I'd giggle. As I felt the straps of my bra pull on my chest, I'd get breathless with excitement, and as I felt my light skirt swish around my legs, I'd smile right up until the point where I'd have to take it all off and pack it away. Now, as I step into those exact items of clothing, I don't have a smile on my face, but rather a frown. I no longer get any sense of excitement from the clothes I wear day in, day out- almost as though I've 'overdosed' on cross-dressing and am now numb to it.

I've thought several times about quitting the band, or telling my bosses that I no longer wish to transition, but there's no way I'd be able to do that without facing huge recriminations. Especially from my 'mentor' Jamie- how do I tell someone who's had SRS- the ultimate step in gender transitioning- that I've changed my mind about being a woman without her taking it as a personal insult?

Even though it's almost 9 o'clock and I'll inevitably be in bed within the next two hours, I still apply a full face of make-up before scooping all my 'Stephanie stuff' into my backpack and leaving the bedroom in which I haven't slept in months. As I head out onto the landing, I catch a glimpse of 'Stephanie' in the mirror, and the more I stare at 'her', in this setting, the more wrong it feels. The problem is, whenever I stare at 'Steve' in the mirror, he doesn't feel right either...

"Let's see how long this time," I sigh as I lock the front door behind me and start a stopwatch app on my smartphone. Even though the streets of London are deserted at this time of night, there are plenty of people at the nearest tube station, and it doesn't take long for people to start staring. The one advantage of my fame is that whenever people stare, I don't assume it's because people have 'made' me- it's common knowledge who, and more importantly, what I am. There's no danger of being called out for being transgendered when everyone knows that's what you are, after all.

"Ex-excuse me?" A young woman, only a few years younger than me, asks. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to intrude, but- are- are you Steph Abbott?" I glance down at my smartphone before answering- five minutes and forty-one seconds, a new record.

"Hi, yep, 'fraid that's me!"

"Oh my god!" The young woman squeaks excitedly to her two friends. "Can- can I get a selfie with you, please?"

"Of course!" I say with a smile, posing for a picture with the excited girls. Two selfies and an autograph later, I arrive back at my apartment and collapse on the sofa, mentally and physically exhausted from the day.

"Oh, stop wilting," Lauren giggles, making me groan in frustration. "Got a long week ahead of us..."

"That will at least be entirely in the studio," I sigh.

"Oh come on," Lauren laughs. "Are you seriously telling me you DON'T like being one of the hottest celebrities in the UK?"

"Not 24/7, I don't," I moan. "Kinda miss being anonymous..."

"Meh, fame won't last, it never does," Lauren laughs. "Enjoy it while you can!"

"Bit of a pessimistic attitude?" I ask.

"Meh, I'll be disappointed when it's all over," Lauren says. "But I'll always have the memories to treasure. And a nice, fat bank balance!"

"Now that bit IS nice," I giggle. "And the fans aren't TOO bad... Dunno if they're afraid of being labelled as transphobic or if they genuinely don't care, but I haven't really had any idiots confront me face-to-face... Guess it helps that the press are on our side. For now, anyway..."

"Now who's being the pessimist?" Lauren laughs. "Get some rest, you'll need it!"

"'Night, Lauren," I say to the flame-haired girl as she heads into her bedroom. I head to my own bed shortly afterwards, waking from a dreamless sleep at 7:30am before showering, applying my make-up and dressing in a pair of baby pink tights, a black leotard and a loose, floaty sundress. If you'd told me six months ago that I'd be a proper ballet student at a proper ballet school, I'd have laughed my head off and dismissed it as pure fantasy... Now I actually have to make an effort to enjoy dressing as a ballerina and dancing in a room full of other similarly-dressed girls. No, not girls, women... It still baffles me why women in their mid-twenties would still enjoy a hobby most closely associated with six year old girls.

As I arrive at the ballet studio for my lesson, my 'question' is partially answered when I see the women arrive with their boyfriends, before abandoning the men at one side of the room and gathering together in the opposite corner. The 'lesson' is clearly more about being in the company of other women than it is about actually learning ballet, and even though there's a big part of me that wants to go and sit with the boys, the more accepted I am as a woman by the other women, the happier I am... Even if as a ballerina, I'm still extremely unskilled.

This fact gets hammered home even harder when Becca- having abandoned her boyfriend Riley at the side of the studio- ties her pointe shoes to her feet and dances a complicated routine. If I tried to dance like Becca, I'd probably break my ankles, if not my neck... And it's clear from the smug smile that Becca shoots at Lauren, Kayla and myself that she knows exactly how much better she is than us.

With a whole third of the usual class away on holiday this week, Krystie (our dance instructor/chief choreographer) is able to devote more time than usual to Lauren, Kayla and myself, but by the end of the lesson, I'm still desperate to strip off my hot, sweaty dancewear and pull my loose dress back on.

"Great class today!" Becca giggles as she coolly strides into the changing room and peels off her leotard. "It's so much better when the so-called 'Teen Angels' aren't here..." Why? I think to myself. Is it because they're all younger and prettier than you?

"I'm just glad the studio's air-conditioned," Kayla says, fanning herself with her ballet manual before changing out of her own dancewear.

"You know," Becca says with a smile just as smug as the one she wore when she danced, "if you three want a little bit of extra tuition, I could always show you a thing or two when you have a spare moment..."

"Oh?" Lauren asks, a hint of anger seeping into her voice. "Are you a teacher now?"

"I HAVE been dancing since I was four," Becca says. "That's actually longer than Krystie's been dancing, you know..."

"And yet she's the teacher and you're not," Lauren retorts.

"We'll think about it," I say, desperately trying to defuse the tension between the two women.

"Besides," Adeola laughs. "Aren't you going to be too busy being 'super-cool auntie Becca'?"

"To a boy!" Becca giggles. "He's never going to want me to teach HIM ballet... And that's 'super-cool godmother' as well as 'super cool auntie'!"

"Oh yes," Kayla says, obviously trying her best to sound interested in Becca's sister's new arrival. "Um, congratulations?"

"It wasn't me who gave birth!" Becca laughs.

"Didn't stop you from taking the week off to coo over the kid, did it?" Lauren asks, making me wince as Becca shoots yet another foul stare in the direction of the flame-haired girl.

"Couldn't really do any work when our producer's the kid's uncle, can we?" Becca says smugly. "I'm sure you'll understand when you become an auntie."

"I AM an auntie," Lauren retorts.

"Girls!" I say, snapping Becca and Lauren out of their worsening moods. "Come on, we've got an album to make."

"The voice of reason as always, Steph," Lauren says, shooting Becca a smug smile as she leads us out of the dance studio and into our waiting taxi. I make sure to sit between Becca and Lauren on the back seat of the taxi, but I can almost feel the hatred spilling between the two women.

When Lauren, Kayla and I were hired for the band, it was made clear to us that the band was being built around Becca and Adeola. They were the big stars, we were the 'sidekicks'. When we began promoting the band to the public, the message must have got mixed up somewhere, as the big star that everyone focusses on isn't Becca or Adeola. It isn't even me, and it isn't even Kayla, despite her amazing singing skill. The girl all the media focusses on is Lauren- and the Scottish girl is loving every second of it, especially when she knows that Becca is hating every second of it.

One thing I've learned from watching shows like The X Factor or Britain's Got Talent is that people love a 'journey', a sob story that they can try to relate to to make celebrities seem more 'real'. Becca was born to a wealthy family, had everything she ever wanted from a very early age. Adeola was born in Nigeria, but moved to England when she was 2 and was raised by her wealthy uncle, also wanting for nothing whilst growing up. Kayla and I were both raised in stable middle-class households. Of course, my tale of estrangement from my parents was latched onto by the media, though at my counsellor's recommendation, I've tried not to give out too many personal details for fear that my lie is exposed. That just leaves Lauren- and her 'journey' is almost stereotypically 'rags to riches', even though she was never all that 'rags' to begin with. Her parents were farmers, and earned more than enough to put food on the table for four children day in, day out, but the media have got it into their heads that Lauren spent all her childhood in a dusty barn, wearing tatty clothing and playing with livestock.

Every time our picture has been in the paper, or a magazine, Lauren's been placed front and centre. She's the unofficial face of our band, the Cheryl Cole to our Girls Aloud- and Becca has happily stepped into the role of 'the Nadine Coyle'. Arguments like the one in the dance studio are commonplace- and it's usually down to me to break them up. Kayla is usually too timid to step into the middle of a row- and has made it clear privately that she dislikes Becca just as much as Lauren does- and Adeola won't say a word against her best friend, leaving me to be the peacemaker.

Still, the one positive about the constant arguments is that it usually keeps management's attention off of me- and why my body hasn't seen any change despite having supposedly been on hormone replacement therapy for six months.

"Okay," Stuart says as the five of us take our places at the microphones in the recording studio. "Hope you all enjoyed your week off, but we've got a lot of work to do if we're going to get this album out by October. More specifically: you've got a lot of work to do!" I giggle along with the other four girls as Stuart starts the music track for the song we're singing today, one of his original compositions. Stuart, of course, will always take Becca's side in any argument between her and Lauren- he'd be a pretty lousy older brother if he didn't- but all of us have noticed how, over the past few weeks, a lot more of his original songs have been written with Lauren in mind as the lead singer... Not least Lauren herself.

"That. Was. Tough," Lauren giggles as she grabs her handbag at the end of a long, tiring session in the baking-hot recording studio. "Wouldn't they get us a fan we can switch on between takes?"

"I think it'd interfere with the equipment, or something," I mumble, inwardly groaning as Becca makes her way over to us.

"So glad to be back in the studio," Becca giggles. "I'm guessing it doesn't get this warm up in the Arctic Circle, then?"

"No, it has done in the past," Lauren says, all signs of fatigue suddenly gone from her face. "It's great when it gets really warm, you get to see all the dolphins and whales..."

"You've got dolphins up in Scotland?" Adeola- who's obviously been eavesdropping- asks. "That's so cool! I've always wanted to see a dolphin in real life..."

"You always said you wanted to see a koala in real life..." Becca says accusingly to her best friend.

"What?" Adeola replies. "I'm allowed to like more than one animal, aren't I? You saw how happy I was that time you let me ride your horse..."

"I love horses, best of all the animals..." Becca sings, before wrapping arm around Adeola's shoulders and leading the dark-skinned girl away from myself and Lauren- and any further talk of dolphins.

"She is just SO fucking jealous..." Lauren sniggers as we head home.

"Is that true about the dolphins?" I ask the flame-haired girl as we walk through our front door.

"Aye," Lauren says. "Dolphins, whales, seals, even the odd shark or two. Only ever seen them a couple of times myself, though... My family's more into 'inland' animals."

"So cool," I sigh. "And- and was it true about you, you know, being an auntie?"

"I'm not going to make up stuff that can be checked just to get one over on butt-bounce!" Lauren giggles. "Reality can do that for me by itself... Aye, my oldest brother's got two girls, one's 2, the other's 9 months."

"Either one named after their favourite auntie?" I ask, making Lauren chuckle bashfully.

"Second one's middle name is Patricia, same as mine..." Lauren sighs. "They're both so cute... That's easily what I miss most about Scotland, family. How about you?"

"Hmm?" I ask, shocked at suddenly being 'put on the spot'. "What about me?"

"You've got two older brothers," Lauren says. "Got any nieces or nephews?"

"Oh, um, no, my brothers are only 29 and 26, too young for kids," I say.

"My brother- the father of my nieces- is only thirty," Lauren says, "You'll be 'cool Auntie Steffie' soon enough!"

"...Assuming my brothers even let me SEE the kid," I sigh, making Lauren grimace out loud.

"Ah, crap, sorry, sorry!" Lauren says, giving me a brief hug. "I keep forgetting... Just 'cause I left my family by choice, not everyone else has that choice. When did you break contact with your family, six months ago, wasn't it?"

"About that time, yeah," I sigh. "For all I know one of my brothers may have impregnated their girlfriends by now..." I briefly look up at Lauren to see if she's seen through my lie, but by this point in my life even I'm having difficulty telling when I'm lying...

“29 and 26, you say?” Lauren chuckles. “I’d be surprised if they hadn’t…”

“Well, 29 and 27, really,” I mumble as I root through our fridge, looking for something to make for dinner. “It’s Danny’s birthday tomorrow…”

“Oh, what?” Lauren asks with near-shock. “No way! You should call him, ONLY him, try to mend bridges…”

“Uhh…” I splutter, internally kicking myself for letting slip about my brother’s birthday. “He- he was kinda even more angry than my parents about me…”

“Oh, that sucks,” Lauren spits. “You’d have thought he’d love having a sister…”

“Yeah, well, c’est la vie,” I shrug. “What d’you want for dinner?”

“Honestly, anything in the fridge that’s still edible is fine,” Lauren sighs as she collapses on the sofa and switches on the TV, ending the conversation, much to my relief. The topic of family stays firmly off the table for the rest of the night as we while away our time watching TV and responding to correspondence on our Facebook and Twitter pages, before turning in for an early night. When I wake up the following morning, it’s almost a relief to not have to pull on the stretchy, sweaty dancewear I wore yesterday, instead opting for a short-sleeved, knee-length dress and no tights or stockings, instead allowing the dress to swish around my bare legs, which acts as a reminder of one of the many reasons why I wanted to live life as a woman in the first place. Wearing a loose dress, or a loose skirt, just feels so… Liberating, especially in the summer months. When I walk into the recording studio and am greeted by my band mates, all of whom are wearing similar dresses to my own, it actually helps me to forget that I was ever a boy… Or that there are regular occasions during which I wish I was still a boy.

After a long day of singing, I breathe a sigh of relief when Stuart dismisses the band at the end of the day, but before I can head home to relax, I’m called back to the studio by a familiar voice.

“Steph!” The familiar face of Jamie-Lee Burke says from Stuart’s control booth. “You got a second?”

“Um, sure,” I say into my microphone.

“Ooh, enjoying your bollocking,” Adeola teases as she leaves with Becca, holding the door to allow Jamie into the booth.

“What’s up?” I ask my mentor, who smiles as she sits down on the stool next to me.

“I just wanted to, you know, catch up…” Jamie says. “See how you’re doing…” I pause as Jamie stares at the slender figure of her boyfriend, who’s still sat in the control room. “Girl talk. Scat!” I giggle as Stuart- the only genetically female left in the studio- shrugs and leaves, clearly not interested in our ‘girl talk’. I shiver a little as Jamie blows a kiss after her boyfriend, remembering the feelings I myself had for the man, feelings that have thankfully subsided over the last few months.

“I’m- I’m doing fine, thanks,” I say. “Is there anything, you know, in particular you need to know about?”

“Well…” Jamie grimaces. “Actually yes, there kinda is… How long have you been on hormones now?”

“Umm, five months,” I lie. “No, wait, six- it is July now, isn’t it?”

“It’s almost August!” Jamie giggles. “Good job you’re not working in admin with those timekeeping ‘skills’… But six months on hormones… I’m surprised your body hasn’t really, you know, changed a great deal…” I involuntarily gulp as Jamie stares accusingly at me, and I clasp my hands together to stop them shaking with nerves.

“Well, some people respond to the hormones at a different rate,” I reply. “Breasts don’t grow overnight…”

“Oh, no, I understand completely,” Jamie says, her accusing stare replaced by one of concern. “I know better than anyone… Had implants put in after only being on oestrogen for nine months, THAT was a regrettable decision, even though I’d barely be an A-cup without them. The point is, Steph… If you- if you want, you know, ‘help’ to be the person you want to be…”

“Are you talking cosmetic surgery?” I ask.

“Umm, sort-of,” Jamie says. “Obviously, I would recommend you DON’T get implants until you’ve been on the oestrogen for at least twelve months. Don’t repeat my mistake! But there are other very minor procedures you can have done, like your laser treatment- are they still going okay, by the way?”

“Umm, yeah,” I giggle. “Only have to shave, like, once a week, and what little facial hair I have left is REALLY thin, weak…”

“Good,” Jamie smiles. “But talk it through with Dr Phillips tomorrow. I’m not saying you HAVE to have cosmetic surgery, of course- you’re more than passable as a girl, and the agency wouldn’t want to put pressure on you to achieve a specific ‘look’- but you need to do what’s right for you, to help you feel more comfortable in your own skin. Take it from someone who’s been exactly where you are right now!” I chuckle as Jamie beams a supportive smile at me, but every time Jamie and I talk like this- about my ‘transition’- I get more and more nervous. Jamie is such a friendly, trusting person that lying to her face like this really tears me up inside.

“Heh,” I laugh nervously. “I’ll- I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”

“Have you got plans for the rest of the day?” Jamie asks, making me inwardly grimace.

“Um, no, not really,” I say. “Just home…”

“Okay,” Jamie says, her smile widening. “It’s just that Nikki’s away all week, Charlotte’s busy with her new baby and Stuart’s going on a ‘boys night’ tonight… Could really use some female company!”

“Umm, and is there something wrong with the other Angels?” I ask, making Jamie giggle.

“Yes, they’re not you!” Jamie laughs. “Kinda feel like I’m neglecting my ‘mentoring’ duties.”

“Honestly, I’m not complaining,” I say, making Jamie giggle even harder.

“I’ll not take that personally!” Jamie says. “Come on, just one drink…” I sigh, before forcing a grin on my face.

“Okay,” I say. “ONE drink.”

“Cool!” Jamie says. “Grab your handbag!” I do as I’m told, checking my phone before leaving and finding a voicemail from my dad that I listen to as I follow Jamie out of the agency.

“Hi Steve,” dad’s voice says. “We’re heading out tonight for a few drinks for Danny’s birthday. We’re at the Crown a few streets away from his flat, come along if you get the chance.” My heart breaks a little more with every word dad says- last year Danny was away for his birthday, so I wasn’t able to celebrate it with him, and the previous years (well, since his eighteenth birthday, anyway) I was too young to go to the pub to celebrate with him. It gets worse when Jamie leads us past the very pub where my family is celebrating en route to the posh wine bar where we have a drink and a conversation before heading to our respective homes for dinner. Sure, I enjoy spending time with Jamie, and the bar is very clean and sophisticated- especially when compared to the noise, old-fashioned pub- but I’d rather be there than anywhere else… Especially when I arrive home to find Lauren browsing through photos of her nieces on her iPad.

“Hey, Steph!” Lauren giggles. “What did Jamie want?”

“Oh, just to chat about things,” I say. “Are they your nieces?”

“Aye,” Lauren sighs happily. “My brother put a few new photos on Facebook earlier today, I’ve just been staring at cute they both are… Speaking of brothers, have you-“

“It… Really would be awkward,” I say, interrupting the Scottish girl.

“Well… Gah, okay,” Lauren sighs. “I guess you know best, don’t want to tell you how to live your life, heh. I’ve done the washing, by the way. Got our leotards and tights dry for tomorrow.”

“Cheers,” I say, fiddling with my phone as I consider what Lauren said. It really wouldn’t be a hassle to call Danny just briefly… Even though I can’t use ‘Steve’s voice, not even in the privacy of my own bedroom, without rousing suspicion from Lauren. As I prepare dinner for the two of us, I quickly compose a text message to Danny, feeling guilty the instant I send it. I lived with the guy for most of my life, we grew up together… And yet I haven’t seen him in almost six months and now, on his birthday, I’m sending him a text message? I feel like the worst brother ever… But would I be a better sister than I am a brother?

As I lay in bed later in the night, I stare around at my bedroom and sigh. Over the last four months I’ve spent time and money turning it into a haven of pure femininity- the walls are pink, the shelves are full of dainty ornaments, the wardrobes are full of clothes and there are racks of shoes all over the floor. It’s a far cry from ‘Steve’s room with its grey walls, mismatched furniture and shelves full of DVDs, and yet, there are days when I would give anything to sleep in that bed rather than this one... Even though when growing up, I would have given anything to have had the bedroom that I have right now.

Every time I feel conflicted like this, I make two separate lists in my mind. At the top of the first list is the heading ‘positives of being male’, and at the top of the other is the heading ‘positives of being female’. It’s a futile exercise, as every time I fill in the lists, they’re filled in exactly the same- in the ‘female’ column I have my wealth, my fame, my new-found friends, a job I genuinely love… And in the ‘male’ column I have my home, my family, the freedom to do what I want and be who I want… Even though when I was a boy, all I wanted to do with this ‘freedom’ was be a girl. And yet, if I choose ‘girl’ permanently, I run the risk of losing my family… A family I’ve all but lost anyway, as proved today.

The more I study the ‘lists’, the more a frightening truth comes to the fore- if I choose ‘boy’ over ‘girl’, I run the risk of losing a lot, lot more than if I choose ‘girl’ over ‘boy’. But if I choose ‘boy’, there’s always the chance I’ll get my family back…

After my regular Wednesday morning ballet lesson- which Becca and Adeola thankfully decide to skip, avoiding any confrontations with Lauren- I gleefully peel off my sweaty pink tights and stuff them in my handbag, before bidding farewell to Kayla and Lauren as they head back to our apartment, whilst I head further into the centre of London for my weekly appointment with my counsellor.

“Hi Steph!” The middle-aged woman says as I enter the posh, clean office.

“Hi Beverly,” I reply. “It’s been a long week since I last saw you. Then again, it’s never NOT been a long week…”

“Tell me what’s on your mind,” Dr Phillips instructs.

“My family,” I sigh. “AGAIN.”

“Did you get to see your parents at the weekend, like you’d hoped?” Beverly asks.

“I did, actually,” I say. “Only for a short while…”

“And I’m assuming you went to see them as Steve, and didn’t tell them about Stephanie?” Beverly probes further.

“Yeah,” I say quietly.

“You know you’ll never make progress while you continue to keep your two lives separate,” Beverly advises with a professional tone to her voice.

“I know,” I sigh. “But what exactly is it I’m trying to make progress toward?”

“I’d like to know what you mean by that question,” Beverly says. “By which I mean, what do you feel you’re progressing toward?”

“…I don’t know,” I moan. “When I’m with my parents, I feel safe, happy, like I don’t have to hide any more… But when I’m dressed like this, as Stephanie… This may sound silly, but I feel more ‘alive’ than when I’m at home.”

“You’d be surprised how many transsexuals say the exact same thing,” Beverly says.

“So… Is that it?” I ask. “Am I definitely transsexual, should I start taking oestrogen?”

“I never said that,” Beverly replies. “And I’m definitely NOT prescribing oestrogen at this point in time. Hormone therapy is only appropriate when a patient displays an inability to live life as their birth gender, which you clearly isn’t the case in your circumstances.”

“I know,” I sigh. “But you have to admit, I am slightly transgendered, right?”

“I never said you weren’t,” Beverly replies. “I’ve said from the start you have a degree of gender dysphoria, and your preference for living and working as a woman is all the evidence anyone would need for that. My main concern is the effect your ‘double life’ is having on your mental health.”

“I know, I know, I should tell my parents AND my employers the truth,” I say. “You finish off every one of our sessions with that advice… Jamie gave me the third degree yesterday about how hormones supposedly aren’t having any effect…”

“Jamie gave you the third degree?” Beverly laughs. “Seems hard to believe… But if she asked you, it’d only be because she cares about you, you know her. But that’s still not a good enough reason to start hormone therapy, that desire, that genuine need has to come from within, not from external pressure.”

“One thing I often do,” I say, “is weigh up the positives of life as a male and life as a female, using that technique you taught me a few months ago.”

“Is there ever a clear ‘winner’?” Beverly asks.

“No,” I say. “Both sides have ‘arguments’ I can’t dismiss… But the female side is getting stronger each time I compile the list. It’s just… I can’t give up my family, I just can’t…”

“It’s perfectly understandable,” Beverly says. “But your family may well feel the same way about you, be unable to give up on you regardless of your choices. And you are an adult, it is your choice to make. One thing I will say about your ‘for and again arguments’ is that every time you’ve come to one of these sessions, you’ve spoken in a feminine voice.”

“It- it just feels more natural now, I guess,” I sigh. “I guess I AM more female than male… I just don’t know if I’ll always want to be that way.”

“Fortunately for you, you live in a day and age where you have that choice,” Beverly says. “But the longer you keep this from the people who matter to you, the harder it will be to maintain your dual life. You know that I’m more than willing to be there with you when you come out to your parents.”

“Being a bit optimistic with ‘when’!” I say, making Beverly chuckle.

“Nonetheless, it’s something you NEED to do as a matter of urgency,” Beverly says. “I’m not completely opposed to prescribing you oestrogen in the future, but not until you have your life in some sort of order- both with your family AND your work.” I nod, and Beverly and I spend the rest of the hour discussing other aspects of my life, before I leave the office feeling no more certain about my life than I was when I entered the office. After a journey home that included yet more requests for autographs and selfies- with it being the school holidays, the band’s target audience is out in force- I enter my flat and collapse heavily on the sofa.

“Lauren?” I ask. “You here?” When the only reply I get is silence, I breathe a sigh of relief and allow my posture to relax. My back slumps and my legs slowly part. If anyone were in front of me, they’d have a perfect view up my short skirt of the gusset of my leotard… So it’s fortunate that no one is in front of me. After a short while, I head into my bedroom and strip off my skirt and my leotard, standing completely naked in front of my mirror save for my make-up. After taking a deep breath, I sit down in front of my mirror and slowly remove my make-up, eradicating any traces of ‘Stephanie’ until only ‘Steve’ remains. And yet, as I stare at my face in the mirror, it feels more like I’ve put on a mask than removed one.

I reach into the bottom drawer of my wardrobe and pull out a pair of boxer shorts, a pair of baggy jeans and one of my favourite t-shirts, pulling all the garments on before collapsing loudly on my bed. I laugh a little at the absurdity of my situation- once again, I am a man, pretending to be a woman, effectively crossdressing- in secret, no less- as a man. The way I feel right now is no different than when I used to dress up in women’s clothing when I was sixteen- a mixture of nerves at being caught out, excitement at the ‘new’ sensations… But the thought of going back to live full-time as a man is just as terrifying as the thought of living full-time as a woman used to be- but with none of the excitement that life as a woman held when I was younger.

After half an hour of ‘Steve time’, I hear my front door open, and I hastily scramble to strip off my ‘boy clothes’, returning them to the drawer they came from before pulling on a clean bra and thong, followed by a tight pink t-shirt and the same denim skirt I was wearing earlier.

“Steph?” Lauren asks. “You home?”

“Yeah,” I reply as I quickly apply a light- but noticeable- amount of eyeliner and lip liner. “Where were you?”

“At the agency,” Lauren says. “May have picked up a hitchhiker too.”

“Hi Steph!” Kayla shouts as I finish my make-up.

“Hey,” I say, opening my bedroom door and displaying my feminine self to the two girls, who offer no reaction to my look, instead crashing heavily on the sofa. Indeed, it’s Kayla’s look that’s out of the ordinary- her light pink legs hinting that she hasn’t changed since our dance lesson this morning.

“How are you not roasting hot?” I ask, making Lauren giggle as Kayla brushes a piece of lint off of her tights.

“What?” Kayla complains. “Ballet clothing is really comfortable, I just didn’t want to change, that’s all…”

“Believe me, we’ve already gone over this,” Lauren laughs. “We would’ve called you, had you meet us at the office, but you were in your meeting…”

“Called me about what?” I ask, making the two teenaged girls giggle excitedly.

“We’re doing our first publicity tour!” Kayla giggles.

“Well, more a ‘trip’ than a tour,” Lauren laughs. “My old high school up in Dingwall called Joshua, asked if we could go up. Joshua thought it’d be a good opportunity to get a few photos of me on the farm, with my parents, so he agreed. We’re flying up tomorrow!”

“Tomorrow!?” I ask. “Bit short notice, isn’t it? And aren’t the schools on holiday?”

“They do a summer school for performing arts,” Lauren says. “That’s what we’re going to be joining in. So pack a bag- our flight leaves first thing tomorrow morning!”

“Okay!” I say with a smile, heading back into my bedroom and dragging a small pink suitcase out of my wardrobe, which I immediately fill with clothes and cosmetics. I pause briefly as I pack, staring at the bottom drawer of my wardrobe where my ‘Steve’ clothes live. Everything I’ve put into the case so far has been ‘Stephanie’s, and it never crossed my mind even for a second to pack anything of ‘Steve’s. I briefly open the drawer, staring at the scruffy jeans and t-shirts inside, before closing it with a smile and packing more dresses into my suitcase. On this trip, I’m going to be Stephanie, and ONLY Stephanie. This trip will be an opportunity to escape from my problems- even if it is just for a few days- and, like my job itself, it’s an opportunity I intend to make the most of.

The following morning, my eyes slowly open as the alarm on my phone chimes noisily through my bedroom. I glance at my phone, which confirms that the time is 5:30am. Even though I’d set the alarm for this time last night and even though I’d got to bed plenty early, I still need to take extra time as I get up to shake the early-morning fog out of my head- and ensure that my voice is at its usual feminine pitch.

A short while later, with a face full of make-up, a short, chic dress covering my body and strappy high-heeled sandals on my feet, I step into the main concourse at Gatwick airport. Next to me are my four bandmates, each one look equally fashionable, and behind us is a small crew of agents and musical technicians- our ‘crew’. Before long, the five of us have checked in and boarded the small jet plane that will bear us north.

“Oh my god,” Becca moans as we fasten our seatbelts. “Would it have killed them to pay for a first-class flight?”

“Only flights to Inverness are on the budget airlines,” Lauren says. “Unless you fancy ten hours in a train?”

“Good job I bought a magazine,” Adeola says, producing a thick teen magazine that- predictably- has Out of Heaven on its cover.

“We must have each read that six times already!” Kayla laughs, producing her own new fashion magazine.

“I’ll swap you,” Adeola says, making the five of laugh, much to the irritation of the other passengers.

Just under two hours- and three reads of Kayla’s magazine- later, our plane touches down at the comparatively tiny airport just outside the comparatively tiny city of Inverness, and after having luggage (and ourselves) loaded into a waiting minibus, we’re soon on our way even further north to Lauren’s hometown of Dingwall, with the hometown girl getting more and more agitated with every mile we cover.

“God, this is taking too long…” Lauren moans as the minibus idles at the entrance to her parents’ farm.

“They have to set up the cameras so they can get the big reunion on camera,” Adeola explains, speaking as though she were talking to a petulant child rather than someone less than a year younger than her. “My uncle paid a lot of money for this trip, he wants to get some useable footage out of it.”

“I know, I know,” Lauren sighs. “I could always pretend that it’s the first time in ages that I’ve seen them and go and see them now…”

“Relax,” I say. “It’ll only be a few seconds…” And you don’t know how lucky you are that you have parents who’ll accept you for who you are… I think to myself. A short while later, one of the film crew slides open the minibus door and smiles at Lauren, who immediately understands what the smile means. The flame-haired girl is fidgeting so much it actually takes her a few goes to unbuckle her seatbelt, but once she’s out of the bus, I actually see a tear run down her cheek as she stares at the entrance to the farmhouse. Immediately, she takes off running- making the four of us left in the bus comment on how it was a good job she’d exchanged her heels for a sensible pair of trainers- and all but launches herself at a middle-aged man at the farmhouse door who I immediately recognise as her father.

“Come on,” Becca giggles. “Let’s not let her hog ALL the publicity, as always…” The four of us unbuckle our seatbelts and stroll toward the reunion, stumbling a little as we regret wearing our sandals on the gravel driveway.

“God, just look at you!” Lauren’s dad laughs as he releases his daughter from his hug. “Here I was thinking London would turn you into some sort of unrecognisable diva…” I bite my lip as I hear Becca and Adeola share a quiet chuckle behind me.

“Dad, mum,” Lauren says. “I’m sure you recognise these four girls already! This is Steph-“ I smile as I wave nervously at the older couple. “-Kayla, Adeola and Becca.”

“Hi, it’s so nice to meet you, Mr. Burnett,” Becca says, shaking the older man as he looks on in confusion and Lauren, Kayla and myself all grimace.

“It’s ‘Mr. McTavish’,” Lauren’s dad says, his tone of voice making it clear that he didn’t take any offence from her ‘faux pas’. A quick look at Lauren’s face, however, reveals that she most certainly DID take offence.

“Sorry, sorry,” Becca grimaces in a not entirely convincing manner. “We have another friend called Lauren, you see, sometimes I get a bit mixed up in my mind…”

“That’s perfectly alright,” Mr. McTavish says. “Now get yourselves in, the five you aren’t exactly dressed appropriately for a farm!”

“We’re off to Lauren’s old school in a bit,” Becca explains. “To help out with their summer school.”

“Aww, I remember that summer school,” Lauren’s mother laughs as Lauren herself gets visibly more and more embarrassed. “Still got a few photos of her in her wee costumes, singing in the school choir…”

“That we DON’T need to see right now,” Lauren says, her voice betraying a state of near-panic.

“That we most definitely DO need to see right now!” Adeola laughs as Lauren buries her face in a sofa cushion. For the next fifteen minutes, the five of us- well, four of us plus the mortified Lauren- flick through the McTavish family’s old photo albums, paying particular attention to the photos of the tiny girl in her traditional highland dress and various other costumes. As we look at the photos, I can’t help but wonder how my bandmates would react if they got a look at my family’s old photo albums…

We only stay at Lauren’s farm for a short while- just long enough for a cup of tea- before being herded back into the minibus and driven back into Dingwall to Lauren’s old school, where the five of us- particular Lauren herself- are given a hero’s welcome by about thirty school-age children and their teachers. After about twenty minutes posing for photographs and signing autographs, we head inside the school’s small main hall and get up on stage, singing an A Cappella version of ‘Heaven is a Place on Earth’, much to the delight of the assembled crowd, which includes camera crews from both Joshua and the local BBC news programme.

“Well, I guess you could technically call this our first concert!” Lauren says, making all the children in the hall laugh. “Before we hear you all sing, I think we’ve got time for a few questions, haven’t we?” I and the rest of the band nod our agreement, and almost instantly, every hand in the audience shoots into the air.

“Umm… You, in the red t-shirt,” Lauren says, pointing at a blonde-haired girl who barely looks 12 years old.

“Who’s your favourite band?” The small girl asks in a Scottish accent even thicker than Lauren’s. I breathe a quiet sigh of relief- the ‘obvious’ first question seems to have been skipped for now.

“My favourite band?” Lauren repeats. “That’s a good question… I’ve always liked Girls Aloud, but I LOVE One Direction!” I nod in agreement with the rest of my band- even though I’ve never bought any of One Direction’s music- apparently satisfying the girl’s curiosity.

“Umm… You at the back,” Lauren says, pointing at an older girl in a denim dress.

“What’s it like being in a girl band with someone who isn’t really a girl?” The girl asks, making me internally cringe as a hush falls over the hall and my bandmates slowly turn to face me.

“Shannon, that is not an appropriate question,“ one of the teachers says quietly to the girl, who already looks mortified at having asked the question.

“It’s okay,” I say into my microphone. “I don’t mind…”

“Stephanie’s as much a part of the band as any of us,” Lauren says. “Just like Jamie-Lee is in the Angels.”

“Just because she used to be a boy doesn’t matter,” Adeola interjects. “Because that’s what she USED to be. NOW, she’s a girl, just like any of us.” I smile and blush slightly as my two friends speak.

“Are you going to have a full sex change?” A voice- that is also quickly told off- shouts from the audience.

“Umm, eventually, I guess,” I say, hoping my friends- not to mention the assembled TV cameras- can’t see through my obvious lie.

“Doesn’t anyone have any questions about MUSIC?” Lauren asks, sparing me any further blushes. “Umm… You, in the Little Mix t-shirt.”

“Aye, it’s a question about music,” the young girl says, before grimacing. “But it’s actually for Steph… How do you make your voice, you know, so… Authentic? I mean, so girl-like?”

“Practice!” I say with a light, feminine chuckle. “Same way everyone gets good at singing, doesn’t matter what gender you are or want to be.”

“Speaking of practice,” Lauren says. “I think it’s about time you showed us your stuff!” I smile as I follow my band off the stage, making way for the excited-looking children.

“Sorry,” Lauren whispers to me as we take our seats in the now-vacant audience.

“S’okay,” I whisper back. “Really, I should apologise to you- they’re YOUR fans, not mine…”

“They’re OUR fans!” Lauren whispers back, making us both giggle. “Besides, I saw the way you looked at me after our This Morning interview… We’ll just call it even now!”

“Honestly, I didn’t-“ I whisper, before being cut off by the school’s band starting to sing- to which we obviously give a standing ovation. After a few more songs, we pose for a few more photographs and chat a bit more with the kids, offering tips and advice on how to improve their singing, before being escorted back to the minibus by the children and their teachers.

“I’m sorry about those questions,” one of the teachers says to me as we head out into the car park. “They were told that they needed to respect your, umm, ‘choice’, that they shouldn’t make any fuss or say anything nasty…”

“I honestly, truly don’t mind,” I say. “They weren’t being nasty, they were being curious… It’s understandable, in a way.”

“I fear that if you’d been here when the rest of the school was, you wouldn’t say that,” the teacher sighs, before helping myself and the band back into the minibus. After a quick dinner, we head to our respective accommodation for the night. Lauren obviously heads back to her family home, but she and her family extended an invitation to the rest of the band to stay with them for the duration of the visit, and much to my surprise, I’m the only one to take them up with their offer.

“See you tomorrow!” Lauren says as we leave Kayla, Becca and Adeola at their posh Inverness hotel before heading back north to Lauren’s family’s farm.

“Looking forward to sleeping in your old bed?” I ask the Scottish girl, who giggles almost uncontrollably.

“You have NO idea,” Lauren laughs. Yeah, Lauren, I think to myself. Yeah, I do have an idea how it feels…

“Mum! We’re back!” Lauren shouts as we walk through her front door.

“Hi girls!” Mrs. McTavish says with a big, friendly smile. “I saw you on the 6:30 news, you little superstars!”

“It’s hardly the first time we’ve been on TV,” Lauren laughs.

“No,” Mrs. McTavish concedes. “But it’s the first time I’ve been able to make a big fuss of you afterwards! I mean, I get why you have to live in London- as terrified as that thought makes me- but I do wish you’d come home a bit more often…”

“We’re still only just getting the band off the ground,” Lauren explains. “I promise I’ll get back more often once I’m a millionaire!”

“Assuming you haven’t married a footballer and moved into one of those huge Chelsea mansions,” Mrs. McTavish says, making Lauren laugh.

“Unless he plays for Ross County there’s no way I’m marrying him!” The flame-haired girl giggles.

“What have you girls got planned for tomorrow?” Mrs. McTavish asks. “I know your flight isn’t until the evening…”

“I think Adeola said she was going out to look for dolphins,” I say. “Might see if she wants some company.”

“I…” Lauren says, before sighing. “I don’t come home often enough. I’ll be here all day.”

“Good!” Mrs. McTavish says with a smile. “Now come and help me set the table, you may have missed dinner but there’s no way you’re not eating with your family at least once this trip!” I giggle as I follow Lauren into the farmhouse’s small dining room and lay out the table for supper, which consists of a delicious vegetable soup and home-made cakes. After an evening spent looking at old photos of Lauren and watching a few old home movies, I haul the sleeping bag provided by Lauren’s brother up the stairs to her room, where we both start getting ready for bed.

“Your family’s really nice,” I say as I strip down to my underwear and pull a loose nightshirt over my hairless body.

“Aye,” Lauren sighs. “I really do miss them at times… I’m sorry about what I said earlier.”

“Sorry?” I ask. “About what?”

“About saying that you had no idea how it feels to be away from family,” Lauren sighs. “I actually feel really guilty being here with you, kinda like I’m rubbing my good relationship with my family in your face…”

“Honestly, you have nothing to apologise about,” I say. “Besides, it’s my fault, anyway…”

“No it is NOT your fault!” Lauren almost shouts. “It’s 100% THEIR fault, if they can’t accept you for the awesome girl you are!”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “But, you know, I haven’t really given them a chance… Haven’t contacted them since January…”

“If they wanted to contact you they’d reach out through the agency,” Lauren says. “Believe me, you don’t owe them anything.”

“I-“ I say, before pausing. I… what? I’ve been lying to you this whole time, Lauren? I don’t deserve any of your sympathy?

“…This is technically my first sleepover,” I say, forcing a smile onto my face. “Can we change the subject, please?”

“Sure, sure,” Lauren laughs. “So… Pick a subject!”

“Your school was also really cool,” I say. “I mean, yes, the questions were awkward, but it could’ve been worse.”

“It WOULD’VE been worse if we’d been in term time,” Lauren sighs. “I heard what Mr. Wallace said to you on the way out and he’s right, there are some real meatheads at that school, least there were when I left…”

“All boys, I take it?” I ask. “Noticed how all of the class we saw today were girls…”

“Aye,” Lauren laughs. “Girls rule!”

“No argument here!” I laugh. Lauren and I chat into the night about various trivial matters- the band, our celebrity lifestyle our friends… But every time the topic turns to Lauren’s family, I feel a pang of regret in my stomach. Even though she was apologetic about it (especially as she didn’t need to be), Lauren was right- every time her father smiled at her or her mother fussed over her, it made me feel jealous, and then I’d feel rotten for feeling jealous, just leading to a downward spiral of depression. If it wasn’t for Dr Phillips’s advice enabling me to identify this ‘downward spiral’, I’d probably be crying myself to sleep tonight.

When I wake up, my muscles and joints stiff from a night in a sleeping bag, I force a smile onto my face, though as I see Lauren head down to her kitchen to eat breakfast with her family, the same pangs from last night come rushing back. Mrs. McTavish serving me breakfast and treating me as though I were her own daughter just serves to make the feelings even worse- if a total stranger can accept me into her home and treat me like family, then surely my own family would be able to do this? The real question is, though, whether or not I’d want them to…

“Smile!” The photographer says as Lauren crouches down next to one of the sheep I saw roaming around the fields behind her family’s farm. With it being summer, the sheep has been shorn of its thick, fluffy coat and is looking very different than I imagined it to- as is Lauren, who’s shed yesterday’s chic, fashionable dress in favour of an old, battered pair of jeans, a long-sleeved (but very flattering) tartan shirt and a pair of very sturdy brown walking boots. It’s only after several photographs have been taken that I realise that this is the ‘real’ Lauren- or at least, the real Lauren before she joined the band. After the ‘photoshoot’, Lauren heads back into the farmhouse to change into one of her designer dresses and apply her usual make-up, and it suddenly dawns on me that Lauren is ‘wearing a mask’ just as much as I am, though as we bid farewell to her parents and head to the airport, her ‘mask’ begins to slip.

“Goddd,” Lauren moans, resting her head on my shoulder as the taxi pulls away from her childhood home.

“Missing them already?” I ask.

“In a way I guess only you can really appreciate,” Lauren sighs. “Didn’t even get to see my nieces on this trip…”

“Think of the money,” I laugh, trying futilely to cheer up the Scottish girl.

“I know, I know,” Lauren sighs. “Does it make me a bad person, choosing money over family?” If it does, it makes me the worst person in the world…

“As long as you love your family and they love you, that’s the important thing,” I say. “And besides, I saw just how proud of you they were…”

“Aye, I guess,” Lauren says. “I know how lucky I am, really, I do… Have you shaved today?”

“Umm, I did last night,” I say, rubbing my mostly-smooth face. “Why, can you see any stubble?”

“…Probably just the light,” Lauren shrugs. “Those laser treatments are worth every penny, then!”

“Yeah,” I laugh. I open my mouth to speak, planning on talking more about Lauren’s family- to get some advice, any advice on how to cope with mine- but I instead remain silent, realising that there was probably a good reason Lauren changed the subject. As we arrive at Inverness airport (and fend off a small gaggle of paparazzi), Lauren has a smile on her face, but I can tell from the poor girl’s eyes that she’s already so, so homesick.

“So,” I say to Adeola, who has a huge grin on her face. “Did you get to see any dolphins?”

“Just one,” Adeola giggles. “But it was so, so cool…”

“I’ve been catching up on Facebook all morning,” Becca says, clearly fidgety at not being the centre of attention. “Have you seen the video of Dannii Samson getting thrown in that swimming pool? Classic! That girl is SO a massive ego on a pair of mile-long legs…” I chuckle quietly as I see Kayla roll her eyes at Becca’s hypocritical description of our tall friend, before we’re all interrupted by the announcement that our small plane is ready to board.

“You okay?” I ask Lauren as we take our seats on board the jet.

“I’ll be fine,” Lauren says with a sad smile. “I mean, they’re not going anywhere… It’s just me who is.” As the plan roars down the runway, I take the opportunity to muse on what Lauren said. My family’s not going anywhere either- but over the last six months, it’s me who’s been distancing myself from them. I’ve been so obsessed with trying to figure out what I want to be in the long-term, what I want to be for the rest of my life, that I never stopped to consider what I want to be in the short-term, the here and now.

For the past five months, every day of my life, I’ve woken up and see ‘Stephanie’ in the mirror. I’ve even legally changed my name by deed poll to Stephanie Caroline Abbott (though my parents obviously don’t know about this). Even if I don’t remain ‘Stephanie’ forever, the fact remains that right now, that’s who I am. Lauren’s showed me over the past few days just how much her family’s support has meant to her, and I only now realise just how much I’ve lost by distancing myself from my family. Even if they reject me for being ‘Stephanie’, I literally have nothing left to lose.

After the plane touches down, I immediately switch on my mobile phone and dial the number for the therapist I saw earlier in the week.

“Hello?” Dr Phillips asks.

“Oh, hi Beverly, it’s Steph,” I say. “Do- do you have a minute?”

“Sure,” Beverly replies. “I’m actually just about to head home- my daughter’s just got back from holiday and I haven’t seen her all week, but I can spare a few seconds.”

“I want to come out to my parents,” I say firmly, making Beverly pause.

“Okay,” Beverly says, clearly taken aback by my determination. “Obviously, I support this decision and I’ll stand by you and support you whilst you come out, but… Are you absolutely sure that this is what you want?”

“I am,” I say. “I’ve been in Scotland the last two days, meeting Lauren’s parents… Made me realise just how much I’ve given up by locking them out of my- out of ‘Stephanie’s life.”

“So have you made a decision on which gender you wish to live as long-term?” Beverly asks.

“Long term, no,” I say. “Short-term, for the foreseeable future: it’s ‘Stephanie or bust’.”

“Okay,” Dr Phillips says. “I’ll arrange a meeting. It’ll be easier to come out to both parents at the same time, do you know when they’ll both be free?”

“Umm, Sunday’s the only day I know they’re both not working,” I reply.

“Okay,” Beverly says. “Well, I don’t usually work weekends, but in this case I’m happy to make an exception.”

“I’m perfectly happy to pay for this session from my own pocket,” I say.

“Okay,” Beverly says. “Also, I’d recommend talking to Jamie-Lee. She’s been exactly where you are now, she could be an invaluable source of support.”

“Yeah…” I grimace. “She- she kinda still thinks I was kicked out by my parents…”

“Well, now would be a good opportunity to tell the truth to her as well,” Beverly advises. “I’ve got to go now, but I’ll contact your parents for you and set up an appointment. I’ll explain that you’ve been seeing me in a professional capacity for the past few months and you wish to meet them with me present. I won’t tell them about your transition- well, you know what I mean- over the phone, that’s best done face-to-face, before you yourself speak.”

“Okay,” I say. “I’ll see you on Sunday.” After hanging up the phone, I hop in a taxi with Lauren and head back to our apartment, which right now feels less like home than it ever has.

“Quote-unquote home sweet quote-unquote home,” Lauren laughs as she drops her cases in the hallway and collapses on the sofa. “It’s usually girls’ night out tonight, but… I really can’t be bothered right now, you know what I mean?”

“Me either,” I sigh, collapsing on the sofa opposite the Scottish girl. “Lauren… I need to tell you something.”

“What?” Lauren asks. “Are- are you quitting the band?”

“No,” I say, taking a deep breath. “It- it’s about my parents.” If the doctor’s recommending I get the support of my ‘mentor’, the support of my best friend would also surely be invaluable.

“What about them?” Lauren asks.

“They… They didn’t kick me out,” I sigh. “I left, walked out rather than face up to them… As who I ‘really’ am. I’ve only ever contacted them by phone since, they don’t even know that ‘Stephanie’ exists…” I lean back on the sofa, happy to have unburdened myself to my friend- even if I am still unable to tell her the complete truth.

“That would explain why I sometimes hear a man’s voice coming from your room,” Lauren says. “And this ‘aunt’ you occasionally go and see?”

“…Doesn’t exist,” I confess. “I- I, um, I go near where my parents live, trying to look at them, see them, think about, um, working up the courage to talk to them face-to-face…”

“Why are you telling me this now?” Lauren asks.

“Because I’m coming out to them on Sunday,” I say. “I’m finally going to stop living a lie.” This particular lie, anyway… “I’d really appreciate it if you could, you know, back me up, give me moral support…”

“Of course,” Lauren says, though her facial expression betrays the fact that I have, in some way, angered her. “I’m not happy that you’ve been lying to me for the past five months, though. Not to mention the agency…”

“You can’t begin to imagine the shame I’ve lived with since I joined the band,” I say. “All of it self-inflicted.”

“Just- god, I don’t know,” Lauren moans. “This is kinda a lot to hit me with after a long trip, Steph. Can we talk about this more in the morning?”

“Of course,” I whisper. “Do- do you want some dinner?”

“Just- just something light,” Lauren says. “Think I’ll get an early night…” After dinner, the two of us watch television in silence, before both turning in for an early night just after 10pm. Unsurprisingly, I don’t get much sleep, instead tossing and turning all night with anxiety, not just at telling my parents or telling Jamie, but at whether or not Lauren will forgive me for my deception…

I’m eventually woken on Saturday morning by the sound of the apartment’s large flat-screen TV. After shaving, showering, applying my make-up and dressing in a loose red dress, I head into the living room to find Lauren watching TV alongside our youngest bandmate.

“Hey Steph,” Kayla says. “Lauren… Lauren kinda told me about what you guys talked about last night.”

“Oh, okay,” I say, hiding my irritation at Lauren going behind my back in telling Kayla about our ‘talk’.

“Yeah,” Kayla says. “I mean, I can kinda understand your reasons, it’s just… It’s really caused a lot of hassle for everyone, you know?” You’ll probably find it even more of a hassle when you learn that I told my parents that you were my girlfriend…

“Be fair, it’s been much more of a hassle for me,” I say, making Kayla nod in agreement. “Almost wish I’d never bothered joining the group in the first place…”

“Oh no, don’t say that!” Kayla sighs.

“Aye,” Lauren agrees. “Out of Heaven really wouldn’t be the same without you, without ANY of us. Even butt-bounce!”

“…Thanks,” I say with a giggle. “The last few months have been hard, but you guys have made life so, so much easier for me.”

“Besides,” Kayla says. “If things go great with your parents, they might ask you to move back in with them, then I can move in here! Getting sick of commuting an hour and a half each way every day…”

“Let’s- let’s just see how tomorrow goes first, okay?” I laugh as I join my friends on the sofa. We spend the whole day at the apartment (apart from a quick trip out for lunch), practising for our recording the following week and watching some of the footage recorded in Scotland, before heading out in the evening to the regular ‘girls’ night in’ at Charlotte Hutchinson’s house- and my next nerve-wracking confession.

“Are you feeling any better?” I ask Lauren as we arrive at the vast mansion. “I know you were down yesterday…”

“I’ll be fine,” Lauren says. “Already spoken to Joshua, he’s agreed to give us all some time off over Christmas and New Year to spend with our families, and it’s not like I can’t afford the occasional flight up there!”

“Good,” I say. “Though I don’t want to be thinking about Christmas just yet… Need to get tomorrow out of the way first.”

“Speaking of,” Lauren says, pointing at the woman with long, sandy blonde hair to whom I need to talk. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” I whisper, before grabbing a drink and heading over to the blonde woman.

“Hey Steph!” Jamie-Lee says. “How was bonny Scotland?”

“Green!” I laugh. “Never seen so much grass in my life, or as many sheep… Jamie, can we- can we talk in private, please?”

“Sure,” Jamie says, leading me into the house’s spacious kitchen. “What’s up, Steph?”

“…My parents,” I say. “I- I’ve-“

“Take your time,” Jamie says, guiding me into one of the kitchen’s sturdy chairs. “Have hey contacted you?”

“Sort of,” I whisper. “Jamie… I’m not estranged from them, I never have been.”

“I- what?” Jamie asks, a sliver of anger flowing through her voice. “I thought- you- you said they kicked you out?”

“No,” I whisper, shaking my head. “I- I walked out. Before I started, um, transitioning…”

“Why- why did you lie to us?” Jamie asks. “Why did you lie to the agency?”

“I don’t know,” I blub. “I thought if- if I had more of a ‘sob story’…”

“You know it’s public knowledge now that your parents threw you out, right?” Jamie asks. “Do they even know about your career, about Out of Heaven?”

“No,” I whisper, making Jamie sigh with frustration. “They think I’m still living as a boy, working in a shop…”

“Joshua will need to know this,” Jamie says with a dark voice. “And he does NOT like being lied to.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, barely holding back tears. “I- I’m meeting my parents tomorrow, coming out to them properly, with Dr Phillips’s assistance… Will you help me, please?”

“Of course I will,” Jamie says, her voice only slightly softening. “You’re still my friend, Steph… But it might take a while before I can trust you again.”

“But- but you will be able to trust me?” I ask, my stomach churning from Jamie’s scorn.

“Maybe,” Jamie whispers, before smiling a genuine smile at me. “As long as there were no other lies on your application form!” I force a chuckle out of my mouth, before leaning forward onto the table, burying my head in my arms. I don’t know what I expected when I talked to Jamie- obviously she doesn’t like being lied to, no one does, but she DID sleep with another man behind her boyfriend’s back last year… She’d have to be a pretty big hypocrite to hold this over me for the rest of my life.

I make a point of enjoying the rest of the party, including joining in when Dannii (the girl Becca was talking about at Inverness airport) willingly allowed herself to get thrown into Charlotte’s swimming pool. However, as hard as I try, I can’t get the look of disappointment on Jamie’s face out of my mind- nor can I shake my feeling of impending dread at my encounter with my parents. I don’t sleep at all during the night, I’m that anxious about the meeting, and when I eventually get out of bed, my hands are freezing cold, my throat is sore and I have the worst headache I have ever had in my life.

“Steph?” Lauren asks, knocking on my door. “It’s almost show time, come on, you need to get up…”

“I’m feeling really crappy,” I weakly croak through the door. “Think I’m coming down with the flu…”

“No you’re not!” Lauren shouts, entering my room with a determined look on her face. “I’ve only known you a few months but I know that if you back out of this now, you’ll never end up doing the right thing by your parents!”

“I really, really am sick…” I moan, standing up and trying to stop my head from spinning.

“I understand this must be a hell of thing for you to go through,” Lauren says. “Actually, no, scratch that, I DON’T understand. I can’t ever understand what this must be like for you, but on Friday you asked for my help, and whether you like it or not, that’s what you’re going to get!”

“O-okay,” I moan as Lauren all but strips me and shoves me under the shower, where the warm water helps to wash away some of my ill feeling. When I emerge, I apply a very light layer of make-up- just some eyeliner, mascara and lip-gloss- before pulling on a plain black skirt and a tight, long-sleeved top. Underneath, I’m wearing my usual ‘foundation wear’ of a padded bra, tight thong and girdle- though thanks to my (agency-mandated) exercise and diet regime, I barely even need that anymore. As I step into the living room, I start to feel positive about today- whatever happens, at least I won’t be living as big a lie as I was before.

“Feeling better?” Kayla asks with a look of pure sympathy in her eyes. “Lauren told me you were all flu-y…”

“Better,” I whisper hoarsely. “I’m ready.” Lauren and Kayla- who are both dressed and made-up more femininely than me- both nod, grab their handbags and lead me down the stairs to the street outside, where our taxi is waiting to take us to Dr Phillips’s office. When we arrive, the three of are greeted with hugs from Jamie- though my hug feels a lot less ‘sincere’ than her usual hugs- and led into a room adjacent to her office, which I hear my parents enter mere minutes later.

“Oh god oh god,” I wail quietly. “This is it…”

“Keep calm!” Jamie says, grabbing my hand supportively. “Whatever happens, you’re still a proud, successful woman, and no one- no one- can take that away from you. You’ve still got your career. You’ve still got your friends. You’ve still got us. Right, girls?”

“Yeah!” Kayla and Lauren say.

“Can you come in, please?” Dr Phillips shouts. With my legs quivering like jelly, I slowly stand up, and- supported by Jamie’s hand on my back- open the door into the doctor’s office, coming face to face with my parents for the first ever time as Stephanie.

“Hi mum,” I whisper hoarsely. “Hi dad. I- I’m Stephanie…” My legs shake harder and I almost collapse to the floor as, with a stoic expression on his face, dad slowly rises from his seat and walks toward me…

TO BE CONTINUED

“Hi mum,” I whisper hoarsely. “Hi dad. I- I’m Stephanie…” My legs shake harder and I almost collapse to the floor as, with a stoic expression on his face, dad slowly rises from his seat and walks toward me…

“…It’s nice to meet you, Stephanie,” dad says, embracing me in a fatherly hug.

“Umm,” I say, shocked by the sudden turn of events.

“Hello, daughter,” mum says, standing up and joining in the hug.

“Mum?” I ask in a small voice, confused by the unexpected outcome of my ‘coming out’.

“Did you really think we wouldn’t accept you for who you are?” Dad laughs. “I’ll admit, it came as a shock at first, but you’re a grown ma- a grown WOMAN.”

“After Dr Phillips called us on Friday,” mum explains, “we Googled her name, discovered that she was an expert on gender identity issues… With you living away, your long hair… It wasn’t hard to put two and two together.”

“And you- you don’t mind?” I whisper.

“Why would we mind?” Mum laughs. “It’s your life, you should live it the way you feel is best.”

“All that worry for nothing, eh?” Jamie asks, giving me a playful nudge.

“Now, are you going to introduce me to your friends?” Dad asks. “Dr Phillips says that you’re a singer, is that right?”

“Yeah,” I say, still struggling to believe just how well the meeting is going. “Um, our band’s name is ‘Out of Heaven’…”

“I’ve heard of them!” Mum says. “Think I saw an article in a magazine… I probably looked right at a photo of you without even realising that it was you!”

“You regularly buy magazines with teen girl bands in?” I ask, making everyone in the room laugh whilst mum gives me a playful shove.

“It was a newspaper magazine!” Mum laughs. “Pity that your sense of humour hasn’t changed with your gender… Isn’t that band meant to be a big deal?”

“I like to think so,” Kayla says. “I’m Kayla, Kayla Ford, nice to meet you.” My eyes go wide as Kayla introduces herself- my parents surely won’t think it’s a coincidence that she has the same name as my so-called ‘girlfriend’…

“Oh,” mum says. “So you’re-“

“-The friend I told you about during our calls, yes,” I say. “She’s also a member of the band. This is Lauren, Lauren McTavish, we’ve been living together for the last few months.”

“Well, Steve- Stephanie, sorry, did say that she was living with a colleague,” dad shrugs, shaking Kayla and Lauren’s hands.

“And this is Jamie-Lee Burke,” I say as Jamie rises from her seats and shakes my parents’ hands.

“Ooh, are you the same Jamie-Lee from that reality show?” Mum asks.

“If you mean The Angels, yes,” Jamie says with a proud smile. “I’ve been sort-of ‘mentoring’ Stephanie and the other girls over the past few months. You should be really proud of your daughter.” The sideways glance Jamie gives me as she praises me, however, tells me that she herself is NOT proud of me…

“I’m sure we will be,” mum says. “Hopefully she’ll trust us enough not to keep any secrets from us in the future…”

“So,” dad asks hesitantly. “Are you going, umm, ‘all the way’? Hormones, the old, umm, ‘snip snip’, that sort of thing?”

“Yep!” I lie, forcing a happy grin on my face. Well done, Steph, I think to myself. Think you killed mum’s expectations in ten seconds flat there…

“Either way, we have a LOT to catch up on,” mum says. “Thank you for bringing our daughter back to us, Dr Phillips- we’ll not take up any more of your time, I’m sure you have your own family to get back to.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Beverly says with a smile. “Always happy to bring families back together.”

“We’ll let you get on with it too,” Jamie says. “I’m sure you three have got a lot of catching up to do!”

“Thank you,” mum says, leading dad and myself out of the office. “I’m glad to see that Stephanie has such good friends and co-workers. Hopefully we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other in the future!” Just what I need… I think to myself.

“I know I shouldn’t say this,” dad says as we get in his car, “but this is probably the weirdest day of my life! Steve- Stephanie, sorry, that’s going to take a little getting used to! Stephanie…”

“’Steph’ will do if that makes it any easier,” I say.

“’Steph’,” dad says. “Why- why didn’t you tell us earlier? More to the point, why did you feel the need to, well, dress up as a boy every time you came home? That must have been really hard for you…” Yeah, but probably not for the reasons you’re imagining, I think to myself.

“I- I couldn’t stand the thought of losing contact with you two,” I say, relieved to finally say something truthful.

“I’m much more offended that you feel we’d reject you than by you choosing to live life as a woman,” dad says. “You’re our child, and that means we have a lifelong commitment to you regardless of what- or who- you choose to be. And believe me, there are a billion things you could have chosen to do that are worse than wearing make-up and a skirt!”

“Will Tom and Danny feel that way?” I ask.

“They’ll do as they’re told!” mum says firmly.

“I will admit,” Dad says, “When we were expecting you- heh, twenty years ago- we were actually hoping for a girl. I mean, we did already have two boys… We wouldn’t have chosen ‘Stephanie’ as your name, though.”

“What would you have chosen?” I ask.

“Alana,” mum says. “Ooh, this is so exciting! It’s almost like we have actually got a brand-new child!”

“And you- you don’t miss ‘Steve’?” I ask, nervously straightening my skirt.

“You’re still the same person, aren’t you?” Mum asks. “Well, same person who’s an up-and-coming megastar, anyway! I can’t wait to show you off to all my friends, tell everyone at the hospital…”

“Yeah, umm, about that…” I say. “When I applied for the band, I, um, I kinda… Kinda told the bosses that we were estranged…”

“What?” Dad asks, anger creeping into his voice for the first time since he was introduced to ‘Stephanie’.

“Was this- was this while you were still actually living at home with us?” Mum asks, sighing angrily when I nod. “Boy or girl, we didn’t raise you to be a liar. I hope you’ve set this straight with your managers? I wouldn’t want the whole world thinking that we were bad parents…”

“I have,” I say. “Jamie’s one of the ‘managers’ of the band, she knows the truth.” Part of it, anyway…

“Any other lies we should know about?” Dad asks, his anger slowly subsiding.

“No,” I say in a feeble voice. “Just- just that one…” Much to my relief, dad simply smiles.

“I’m sorry, I know this can’t have been easy for you,” dad says. “If I felt that I was forced to hide who I really was for twenty years I’d probably act irrationally as well.” Much to my surprise, a few seconds later, the three of us pull up outside my home- my parents’ home, the house where I grew up.

“What are we doing here?” I ask, watching with surprise as my parents get out of the car and immediately head up to my bedroom.

“Aha,” dad says as he opens my wardrobe and removes an armful of my clothes- ‘Steve’s clothes. “You won’t be wearing these anymore!” I freeze to the spot, watching aghast as my mum hands my dad a roll of black bin bags, and all of my male clothes slowly disappear into them. My old favourite jeans, jumpers, t-shirts… All gone in an instant.

“Well if you’re not going to wear them,” mum says, “might as well give them to someone who’ll want them, say, to Oxfam or somewhere like that.”

“I’ll take them in before work tomorrow evening,” dad explains, before I wince as he opens my ‘Stephanie drawer’, which contains various items of female underwear, skirts, tops, cosmetics…

“Heh,” dad chuckles as he carefully lays the drawer on my bed. “No need to get rid of these!” I force a smile on my face as mum starts sorting out the clothes, sorting them into their own drawers whilst taking some to iron.

“How long have you been dressing up behind our backs, anyway?” Mum asks. “Um, not that I’m angry about that in itself, of course.”

“…Since I was sixteen,” I say. “Part of my first pay cheque, I, um, kinda bought a skirt with it…”

“Just as long as you didn’t dress up in any of mine!” Mum laughs.

“Okay,” dad says. “That’s your clothes all gone… You won’t be needing any boy’s toiletries either, mind if I use your deodorant and shower gel?”

“Um, sure, I guess…” I say, still trying to wrap my head around what’s happening.

“Do you still need to shave?” Dad asks.

“Uh, yes, actually!” I say, before wondering when I became enthusiastic about shaving- the one male activity I hated the most. “I’m getting laser treatments on my face to remove facial hair…”

“…But they’ve not had a full effect yet,” dad says. “Okay, your shaving kit can stay for now. Was going to get you a new one for Christmas, guess that’ll have to be a Ladyshave or a waxing kit instead!”

“Yeah,” I whisper as dad starts gathering up all the sports-related ornaments and posters on my shelves and walls. Previously, I couldn’t have cared less about them, but now, I want more than anything to grab them out of dad’s hands so that I could have them just one second longer…

“I’ve called your brothers,” mum says, returning to my bedroom with a wide grin on her face.

“Wh-what?” I ask with terror in my voice.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t tell them outright,” mum says. “I know that’s something you’ll want to do yourself, so I’ve asked them to drop round tomorrow morning before work, around 8:30.”

“Umm, I have my ballet class tomorrow morning at around that time,” I say, making mum coo happily.

“Oh, you do ballet? How cute!” Mum giggles. “Well we’ve both got the morning off, so can we come and watch it with you?”

“Umm, sure, I guess,” I say. “I’m not really any good at it, though…”

“I thought all girl singers were great dancers?” Mum asks.

“Well-choreographed dancers who have several takes when filming their music video,” I say, laughing for the first time since dad set about systematically eradicating all traces of ‘Steve’ from the bedroom.

“Is your video on YouTube yet?” Mum asks, her voice rising with excitement as though she’d just remembered something.

“…It is,” I say, cringing as my parents suddenly drop what they’re doing and head downstairs, switching on the smart TV box and opening the YouTube app.

“What’s your band’s name again?” Mum asks. “‘Out of Heaven’, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” I sigh, plopping down on the sofa and burying my face in a cushion as mum almost instantly finds our ‘Heaven is a Place on Earth’ video. Five minutes later, after the music stops, I lift my face from the cushion, smiling at the looks of sheer pride on my parents’ faces.

“You are BRILLIANT!” Dad says, giving me a quick, playful hug.

“You really are talented,” mum says. “If we’d known you were this talented when you were younger we’d have got you professional singing lessons!”

“Thanks,” I laugh. “I’m just one of five girls in the band, though…”

“The BEST one in the band!” Dad laughs, before his eyes turn back to the entertainment unit. “There’s another thing you won’t need any more…” My eyes go wide as dad slowly starts reaching for my Xbox.

“No!” I yell, my voice briefly cracking back to ‘Steve’s voice. “Umm, I still like to play on it…”

“Yeah, but it is a bit ‘boyish’, isn’t it?” Dad asks. “And aren’t you going to be too busy to play games, what with your dance classes and your celebrity parties?”

“…Still, though,” I say.

“Huh, it’s your Xbox, I guess,” dad says as he sits back down. “I take it you still enjoy regular food, you don’t only eat at £200 a meal restaurants run by Heston Blumenthal or someone like that?”

“No, I still eat proper food,” I say.

“Good,” mum says. “I’ll get started on dinner. And then you can get on Facebook and tell the rest of your friends that you and your parents aren’t so much ‘reconciled’ as ‘never estranged in the first place’!”

“Will do,” I sigh as mum heads into the kitchen and starts preparing our evening meal. After we eat, I follow my ‘orders’, and fill all of my friends in on the development. Obviously, a lot of them are unhappy at being lied to, but the general consensus seems to be that they’re happy that my parents have accepted ‘Stephanie’. As I climb into bed- climbing into ‘Steve’s bed for the ever time as ‘Stephanie’- I can’t help but feel as though I’ve lost a large part of who I am. My parents’ home used to be my haven, a place where I could escape from ‘Stephanie’ and be ‘Steve’ again, even if just for a short while… Now, thanks to my lies, it looks like ‘Steve’ is gone for good.

I moan as faint sunlight streams onto my face, waking me from my slumber. As I open my eyes, I briefly panic- it takes me a few seconds to realise that the bedroom I’m in indeed belongs to me- or rather, belongs to ‘Steve’. After showering and shaving, I head back into my bedroom, where I have a moment of panic when I open my wardrobe to find it completely empty. Sighing, I reach into my wardrobe’s drawers and pull out a handful of cosmetics that I apply to my face, before pulling on a fresh bra and thong, followed by the girdle, top and skirt I was wearing yesterday.

“Morning, Steph!” Mum says with a smile as I pad downstairs, trying to enjoy the feeling of my skirt pulling on my legs with every step I take- a feeling that always sent tingles of excitement through my body in the past.

“Morning,” I say, clearing my throat so that none of ‘Steve’s voice can be heard. “What time are Tom and Danny getting here?”

“About ten minutes,” mum says. “I’ll talk to them first, then you can make an appearance- just like at your doctor’s yesterday, okay?”

“Okay,” I whisper as mum shoves a cup of hot coffee in front of me.

“Nervous?” Mum asks.

“Yeah,” I say. “Not as much as yesterday, but still…”

“Well as I said,” mum says. “If they don’t accept you for who you are, THEY’RE going to be the ones in trouble!” I giggle, but deep down, there’s a small, shameful part of me that almost wishes that Tom and/or Danny DO reject me. Every shred of acceptance ‘Stephanie’ receives feels like a rejection of ‘Steve’… And will make it harder and harder for me to ever be that boy again.

A short while later, I hear a knock at the front door, followed by the unmistakable sound of my brothers’ voices. I briefly make use of the downstairs toilet- chuckling at how, for the first time ever, I entered AND exited it dressed as ‘Stephanie’- before my mum calls me through into the living room. I take a deep breath to calm my nerves, and remind myself one last time that no matter what my brothers say, my parents will always support me- whether I like it or not.

“Hi Tom, Hi Danny,” I say as I step into the living room, flinching as my brothers stare at me, their eyes widened by shock.

“Say hello to your sister,” mum says to the two young men.

“Um, hi Stephanie,” Tom mumbles, clearly unable to even look at me.

“Hi Stephanie,” Danny says, blinking twice and taking a deep breath. “Okay, this is… This is new. Have- have you always been like this?”

“For as long as I can remember,” I say, sitting down with my knees pressed tightly together.

“And, um,” Danny continues. “Have you- have you taken it-“

“Daniel!” Mum snaps, silencing my brother.

“Sorry, sorry…” Danny says. “Well, ‘hi sis’, I guess!”

“Tom,” mum says to my eldest brother, who has remained silent. “Is there something you want to say to your sister?”

“Hi sis,” Tom mumbles, before getting up. “I have to go, I’m late for work…”

“See you later, bro,” Danny says as Tom hurries out of the living room. “Don’t mind him, Steve- Steph… Nearly did the same thing myself…”

“I’ll talk to Tom,” mum says. “I’m sure it’s just come as a shock to him, that’s all.”

“He’s not alone,” Danny laughs. “I’ve- I’ve got a million and a half questions…”

“I’m on Facebook,” I say. “As Stephanie, I mean. Feel free to ask whenever you want.”

“Believe me, I will,” Danny says. “Guess this explains why you skipped my birthday last week… I’ve got to get going to work too, I’ll um, I’ll see you around… Steph.” Awkwardly, Danny and I both stand up and walk toward each other, eventually sharing a very brief, uneasy hug before the young man follows our brother out of the door.

“Well, that went bloody awfully,” I moan, slumping back down in my chair.

“Now be fair,” mum says. “It is a lot for them to take in.”

“It was more for you and dad,” I retort.

“Very true,” mum says. “But I’m sure your brothers will come around. Now come on, you need to get ready, don’t want to be late for your dance lesson!” I force a chuckle past my lips as I head back upstairs to grab my handbag, before getting in mum’s car with her and directing her to the dance studio, where we meet up with dad, fresh from his night shift.

“How did it go with Tom and Danny?” Dad asks.

“…Not great,” I sigh. “Not a disaster, but I think I may need to keep my distance from them for a while.”

“Ah, that’s a shame,” dad sighs. “I’ll go round to their homes and crack a few heads, see if that might help.”

“You will NOT,” mum says, making dad chuckle nervously. “Let them come in their own time, they won’t reject their sister now that they know they have one. Now come on, I want to see you dance!” I force a smile on my face as I head into the dance studio and am greeted by Kayla and Lauren, the latter of whom hands me my dance bag. I take a deep breath before heading into the studio’s small changing rooms, where I strip off my skirt and top before rolling my soft pink tights up my leg and stepping into my tight black leotard, ensuring it’s smooth and wrinkle-free before tying my satin ballet slippers to my feet, tying my longish brown hair into a ponytail and heading back to the studio’s reception area, where my parents are deep in conversation with my dance teacher.

“Ah, here’s the ballerina!” Mum says, making me blush slightly.

“Bit of an exaggeration,” I mumble.

“Kinda like the way you ‘exaggerated’ about your relationship with your parents?” Krystie says in an accusatory tone, before giggling and giving me a playful hug. “It’s okay, it’s okay, I forgive you… God knows you’ve not exactly had it easy these past few months. Come on, let’s see if we can’t dance away some of your stress!” I smile as Krystie leads me into the dance studio where all of my other friends are waiting for me. After tying my hair into a ballerina’s bun (and doing the same for Jamie and Nikki, in a sort-of pre-lesson ritual), Krystie lines us up at the barre before addressing the class.

“Girls,” Krystie says with a wide grin. “Today is a VERY special day. It was special already, what with Miss Hutchinson’s return to the class-“ I, along with the rest of the class, turn and give a brief round of applause to Charlotte as she does a graceful curtsey.

“-But it became even more special when I arrived this morning,” Krystie continues, “And found those two lovely people waiting in my reception area. Ladies, say hello to Mr. and Mrs. Peter and Samantha Abbott, our Stephanie’s mum and dad!” I blush as mum and dad stand up and take their bows, before Krystie gets the lesson started. All throughout- and especially as Lauren, Kayla and I still receive extra-close tuition during the ‘lesson’- I feel my parents’ gazes burning a hole in the back of my neck. Of course, I know that their stares are ones of pride and love, but I still wither whenever I catch them looking over at me dancing.

I dread the end of the lesson, expecting Krystie to produce a massive tutu in which I’d be expected to dance, but much to my relief, when our hour ends, Krystie sends us on our way just as she has after every other lesson.

“I reckon if I told Tom about you dancing with fifteen attractive young women, he’d be a bit more interested!” Mum laughs as I head to the changing rooms to pull my skirt and my top back on.

“Two of them are actually transgendered, like me,” I say. “Jamie and Nikki, the girls who had their buns tied with me…” …And who would be ballistically angry if they ever found out the ‘real’ truth about me…

“Well, obviously, you’re more beautiful than either of them!” Mum laughs. “Do you have to go to the studio today?”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “There is sometimes actual work to do in my job!”

“Well, at least you know now that you can drop round any time wearing whatever you want,” mum says, giving me a long hug before getting in her car with dad and heading home.

“Aww,” Becca teases as she skips over to me. “Your parents seem SO nice… Can’t believe you’d ever think they’d reject you, especially as you’re the baby of the family- which, as we all know, is the most awesome sibling!” I giggle as the rest of the band also gather around me, giving my parents all the praise they deserve. Every word of praise they give to my parents had a double meaning, though- it tells me just how much they DON’T respect me for lying to them.

When the five of us arrive at the agency, Becca, Adeola, Kayla and Lauren head into the studio to get ready for the day’s recording session, but I’m intercepted before I can go in and directed up the stairs to the offices. I take a deep breath to try to steady my nerves as I knock on the door of the agency’s owner and am permitted to enter.

“Take a seat, Stephanie,” Joshua says in a voice much darker than his usual jolly, bombastic tone.

“I- I’m sorry I lied-“ I mumble in a feeble voice.

“As you should be!” Joshua booms, barely restraining his temper. “For the last five months you have lied to my face whilst taking my money!” My bottom lip starts to quiver as Joshua raises from his chair and stares out of his window, turning his back to me.

“I’m not sure what’s worse,” Joshua continues in a slightly calmer tone. “The fact that you lied or the fact that you felt you couldn’t trust me with the truth. Either way, I have severe concerns about your character.”

“Do- do you want me to leave the band?” I ask, blinking back tears.

“It’s a bit too late for that now!” Joshua snaps. “We’ve spent thousands of pounds on promotional material, the album is almost done… This is money that cannot be written off. And ultimately… Your lie was mostly harmless. It will be easy enough to pass this off to the press as a simple reconciliation. It’s your parents who you should be apologising to- THEY’RE the ones who will have to be contrite to the press.”

“I- I know,” I whisper.

“Frankly, if you were my daughter I’d be more upset at being made out to be a bigot,” Joshua sighs, finally sitting back down. “Go back downstairs! Start doing what I pay you to!”

“Can- can you forgive me for this?” I ask, wiping a lone tear from my cheek.

“Eventually,” Joshua concedes. “Now go and sing!” I blink back more tears as I leave Joshua’s office and head downstairs, but I know that everything Joshua said is true- and I brought it all on myself… And it still has the potential to get a lot worse.

My cheeks burn with embarrassment as I slink into the recording studio to be greeted by the blank stares of my band mates, and they only get redder as I pull on my headset and take my place at my microphone.

“Thank god the studio’s soundproof,” I mumble, making Adeola- of all people- wrap a supportive arm around my shoulder.

“Okay,” Stuart says once we’re all ready. “Not got much more to do, so the sooner we get done, the sooner you five can enjoy a well-earned break! Two, three, four…” The introduction to one of our songs- a slower, ballad-like song written my Stuart- begins, and I try to put my telling-off behind me as I focus my voice into doing the best possible job of the music that’s been put before me. Fortunately, I must’ve done a good enough job as Stuart lets the five of us go just after 2:30pm- though my heart skips a beat as I see Stuart head into Joshua’s office as I leave the agency.

“One thing I don’t get,” Lauren says as we (and Kayla) had back to our flat, “is how your parents knew that you had long hair? I mean, when I first met you, it was medium length- for obvious reasons, admittedly- but not noticeably long for a boy…”

“We, um, we skyped a few times,” I lie. “When I had no make-up on. Just seemed easier…”

“Hmm, okay,” Lauren says, though I can tell she doesn’t fully believe me- which given the events of the last few days, is understandable.

I breathe a sigh of relief when I arrive back at the apartment. There’s nothing I want to do more right now than crash on the sofa and watch Netflix for the rest of the day, but first I want to change out of the clingy dancewear I’m still wearing underneath my street clothes. When I reach for the door handle of my bedroom, however, I get an unexpected shock when Kayla reaches for the handle at the exact same time.

“Umm, I’m flattered, but don’t you have a boyfriend?” I ask, making Kayla smirk.

“Sorry,” Kayla laughs. “Just- when it was obvious you weren’t coming home last night, I kinda slept in your room rather than the sofa… Hope you don’t mind.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” I smile, opening the door and frowning with confusion at the sight of a lot of Kayla’s clothes piled up on the bed.

“Umm… How did you get all that in an overnight bag?” I ask.

“I, um, may have asked my mum to bring a case up from Southampton this morning,” Kayla mumbles.

“Oh, now be fair,” Lauren says after stripping out of her own dancewear. “Given how well it went with your parents, we thought you’d just naturally move back in with them.”

“And I do really, really need a place in London,” Kayla says. “Getting sick of a two hour commute each way…”

“Hi girls!” An unexpected female voice shouts from the kitchen, momentarily startling me. “How was work?”

“Oh, um, hi mum!” Kayla says. “Mum, this is Stephanie, the girl I told you about this morning!”

“Oh, hi Stephanie!” The middle-aged woman says, giving me a limp, feminine handshake.

“Hi, Mrs. Ford,” I say.

“It’s so good of you to let Kayla have your room,” Mrs. Ford says, giving her daughter a playful cuddle. “Okay, I’d have preferred that she waited until she was eighteen before moving out, but it’s better than her spending most of her life on a train!”

“Why weren’t you at ballet this morning?” I ask. “You could’ve met my parents…”

“Believe me, I wanted to be!” Mrs. Ford laughs. “But I needed to stay here, clean this place up- you can tell two teenagers live in this place, it’s an absolute sty! Apart from your room, actually, everything was very neat and tidy…” My eyes go wide as a moment of panic grips my body.

“Did- did you go through my drawers!?” I ask, my voice raising and startling the three other women.

“No, of course not!” Mrs. Ford laughs. “Just because I have a parental obligation to not respect Kayla’s privacy, doesn’t mean I can’t respect yours!” I breathe an internal sigh of relief and let out a small giggle- if she’s discovered my ‘Steve’ drawer, it’d have been seriously awkward…

“Umm, it’s going to take me a few days to get everything moved,” I say, wondering when exactly I agreed to get kicked out of my own home.

“We got time,” Lauren shrugs.

“In the meantime,” Mrs. Ford says, “I’ve had a look at your fridge and it is foul! Let me cook the three of you a PROPER meal for once…”

“That’d be nice,” I say as I crash on the sofa with Lauren and Kayla. After calling my parents- and actually having to remember to use my ‘Stephanie’ voice as they pick up the phone- we while away the rest of the evening watching Netflix, as I’d hoped, but as I head to bed, I can’t help but feel that my ‘independence’ will soon come to an end. I enjoyed having my own place- well, half of my own place, anyway- and being effectively forced to move back in with my parents, especially by the girl who let me stay at her own parents’ house just last week, is truly galling.

When I wake up the following morning, I go to enter the bathroom, only to find it locked for the first time since I moved in five months ago.

“Sorry!” Kayla yells from inside the bathroom. “I’ll be out in a second!” Just over ten minutes later, the tiny blonde girl emerges from the room, her hair and body wrapped in two towels- MY towels. Sighing, I get two spare towels from the airing cupboard and jump under the shower, shaving off what little facial hair I have and letting the hot water wash away some- but not all- of my stress. The telling-off Joshua gave me yesterday is still ringing in my ears, and it would be a perfect irony if I start to live life as a woman full-time only for my job- the whole reason I’m living as a woman full-time- to suddenly be in jeopardy.

After drying myself off and pulling on a fresh set of underwear, I apply my make-up for the day and dress in a tight red t-shirt and a short denim skirt, under which I pull on a thin pair of tights, despite the heat outside. Lauren and Kayla are both wearing almost new designer dresses to the studio, of course- both have very quickly settled into the lifestyle of a national celebrity and the appearances that need to be kept up as a result.

When we arrive at the studio, Becca and Adeola are already present, but surprisingly, Stuart is nowhere to be seen.

“My brother’s been talking to Joshua all morning,” Becca says as she gets herself a glass of water. “Some talk about an upcoming gig, I think.” I nod quietly as I get myself a drink, but as I sit down, I feel an unexpected presence also sit down next to me.

“Hey,” Adeola- the band member with whom I’ve probably interacted the least- says. “You okay?”

“Umm, yeah, thanks,” I say.

“Only I know you kinda copped a bollocking from Uncle Joshua yesterday,” Adeola continues. “Take it from someone who’s been on the receiving end of a lot of them, they ain’t fun!"

“I’ll live,” I say, making Adeola giggle.

“Why did you lie, anyway?” Adeola asks. “Not just to us, but to your parents?”

“…Because despite Jamie’s best efforts, the world really isn’t friendly toward people who believe that they’re a different gender to the one they were born into,” I sigh. “Especially when it’s their own flesh and blood…”

“Okay,” Adeola says firmly. “One: that ‘flesh and blood’ thing is a load of crap. Your parents proved that yesterday. And two… Take it from someone who knows, hiding away from discrimination only ever makes it worse.”

“No offence,” I say delicately, “but, umm, isn’t London one of the most multi-coloured cities in the world?”

“The city, yes,” Adeola retorts. “But don’t forget I was raised by my uncle and he wanted the absolute best for me, including the best school… After two years at the boarding school I went to I was literally begging Uncle Joshua just to send me to an inner-city school, ANY inner-city school.”

“Was- was it bad?” I ask.

“Woke up every morning with a banana beside my bed,” Adeola sighs. “Thought it was some sort of weird nutritional scheme at first, then I realised none of the other kids were getting them… Once went into class and found my chair filled with a stuffed monkey. PE class, every time we worked on climbing apparatus, I’d get Tarzan chants yelled at me.”

“That- that’s despicable,” I whisper. “Didn’t the teachers do anything about this?”

“The teachers were even worse,” Adeola spits. “First year I was there they spoke extra-slow to me as though I couldn’t even speak English, when it’s my first bloody language… Lunchtime was by far the worst, though. I’d keep my distance from the other kids but the dinner ladies would always find a way of leaving some little remark, ‘you can’t hide any more, this isn’t the jungle’, that sort of thing…”

“It’s amazing how they can get away with this,” I sigh. “This is supposed to be the 21st century, isn’t it? Why did your Uncle even tolerate this?”

“He didn’t!” Adeola laughs. “Second he learned about it he pulled me straight out of there, sent me to a local school instead… Yeah, I didn’t get the best GCSEs in the world but I at least didn’t end up hurling myself off a tall building…”

“And now you’re part of the hottest girl band in the UK!” I say, making Adeola giggle.

“WE’RE part of the hottest girl band in the UK!” The dark-skinned girl laughs.

“Soo,” Becca says, sitting down on the other side of Adeola. “What are we talking about today?”

“Our school days,” Adeola giggles. “Which I’m betting were a lot tougher than yours, Miss Eighteen-grand-a-year private school!” Becca blushes and giggles as her best friend teases her, though for once her bashfulness actually appears genuine and not an attempt to centre everyone’s attention on her.

“Well, depends on where Steph went to school, I guess!” Becca laughs.

“…Just my local comprehensive,” I say. “Parents aren’t poor but couldn’t exactly afford eighteen grand a year, especially not for three kids!”

“AND their kids’ university as well,” Adeola teases Becca. “Whenever you decide to go back to your studies, anyway!”

“Hey, I finished my second year, didn’t I?” Becca protests. “So I’m not quite as academic as my brother or my sister, whatever. Steph, either of your brothers go to uni?” I blink twice as Becca asks me this question- even though we’ve been bandmates for five months, we’re not exactly ‘friends’, and she’s never really shown any interest in my family before…

“Erm, nah,” I reply. “Tom join the Army when he was 18 but left after five years, Danny went straight to work when he was sixteen. My mum went to university though, I think.”

“She’s a nurse, isn’t she?” Becca asks.

“Yeah,” I say, still finding it hard to believe that Becca is this knowledgeable about my family.

“Either of your brothers single?” Becca asks with a cheeky grin. “Obviously not asking for myself, but for a friend…” I giggle as Becca places her hands on Adeola’s shoulders and playfully massages the tall girl.

“Ehh… I like Adeola too much to inflict that on her!” I say, making both girls laugh as Stuart returns to the studio, but the laughs subside as Joshua walks in behind Stuart with a serious expression on his face.

“Girls,” Stuart says, grabbing our attention and making me start to shake with nerves. This is it, I think to myself. Back to the unemployment line…

“My heavenly singers,” Joshua announces, the smile returning to his face. “How familiar are you with the aviation industry?”

“I know it involves planes,” Kayla says, making our manager laugh.

“Indeed it does!” Joshua booms. “It also involves airports, and pilots, and flight attendants… And big, big business!”

“Is this about sixty-three?” Adeola asks, earning quizzical stares from the rest of us.

“It’s good to see that education was worth every penny I paid for it!” Joshua says, giving his niece a playful hug even as she clearly didn’t want any reminders of her school days.

“Antoine Masson,” Joshua continues, “the founder of Soixante-Trois Airlines, is opening up a new hub in Heathrow. Next Monday he’s throwing a huge launch party for the press and he wants Britain’s biggest girl band to sing at the launch! I assume none of you have any objection to singing whilst dressed as air stewardesses?”

“As long as I don’t have to serve anyone any drinks!” Becca says, making Joshua laugh his booming laugh once again.

“No, no, only music to their ears!” Joshua laughs. “I’ve sent his tailors all your measurements, your costumes will be here on Friday.”

“They’ve sent along a list of songs they want you to perform at the opening,” Stuart explains. “Don’t worry, it’s all in English, no French. Mostly stuff like ‘Come Fly with Me’, but we’ll need to get rehearsing anyway so we’re going to push polishing off the album back for a week to concentrate on this.”

“Starting immediately!” Joshua booms, springing the five of us into action as we finish our drinks and grab our headphones. “Stephanie, may I have a word in private, please?”

“Umm, okay…” I say nervously, feeling my bandmates’ stares burning a hole in the back of my head as I follow our manager into a side room. “I promise I haven’t lied, I swear-“

“Stephanie!” Joshua says with his usual wide grin. “I am not going to bollock you today! Calm down!”

“Umm, okay,” I say, taking several deep breaths as Joshua and I sit down.

“I’m not sure if you know the story of Soixante-Trois Airlines,” Joshua says. “They’re a ‘boutique airline’, following old-fashioned principles- specifically, sixties principles. Which I why I personally love them so much! They only have female stewardesses, but some time ago the EU Supreme Court forced them to allow males to apply for these roles. Soixante-Trois agreed- as long as they followed the strictly female dress code.”

“So… What?” I ask, struggling as hard as I could to follow Joshua’s story. “They only hire transgendered stewardesses?”

“Not ‘only’,” Joshua says. “But mostly, yes. I wanted to make sure that you were comfortable with this before agreeing to the gig on Monday- I wouldn’t want to put you in a position that you would find awkward.” My jaw drops as Joshua makes his request- yesterday I was worried he would fire me, but today he’d be willing to turn down what sounds like a lucrative gig if I veto it?

“Umm, I’ve got no problems with it,” I say, making Joshua laugh out loud and give me a gentle pat on the back.

“Fantastic!” Joshua booms. “Now get back in the studio, you have practice to do!” I smile as I get up from the chair and all but swagger back into the studio, putting on my headphones with a smug smile that confuses Lauren and Kayla but brings genuine chuckles to Becca and Adeola’s mouths. We spend the next four hours running through the songs for the gig, perfecting our harmonies and working out any extra ‘twists’ we want to put on the songs to add our own unique character to them. Eventually, at 4pm, Stuart gives us permission to leave, though as I leave the studio, I find myself not walking out with Kayla and Lauren, but with Becca and Adeola instead.

“Eee, this’ll be so cool!” Becca squeaks. “Do you remember Valentine’s 2014? Flying back from Paris to Dublin on that airline?”

“I remember only being seventeen and my uncle not allowing me any booze,” Adeola giggles. “You ever flown with Soixante-Trois, Steph?”

“Funny you should mention that,” I say with fake enthusiasm. “…No I haven’t.” Becca and Adeola both giggle at my joke as the three of us head into the ladies’ toilets.

“I also remember you being involved with a guy during that trip<” Becca teases her best friend. “When oh when are you going to let me set you up with one of Riley’s friends?”

“When hell freezes over, of course,” Adeola retorts.

“They’re nice!” Becca pleads. “And you’ve been single long enough.”

“I’m only nineteen!” Adeola retorts. “Don’t want a relationship right now, besides, soon enough we’re gonna have every single man in the country kicking down our door to ask us out on a date!”

“Steph, then,” Becca says. “I’ve got several hunky guys who’d be right up your alley, just say the word…”

“The word is ‘no’, I’m afraid,” I reply. “The, um, oestrogen basically kills the sex drive.”

“Eh, yeah, I know that,” Becca laughs. “Well, I’ve observed it, anyway- when my brother started testosterone he turned into a real horny idiot…” Yeah, I DON’T need to be reminded of those feelings Becca, thank you very much… I think to myself.

“Besides,” I sigh. “Doubt they’d be too happy with, well, the contents of my pants…”

“If they object I’ll make sure the contents of THEIR pants are out of commission for the rest of their lives!” Becca laughs. “Do a proper ‘Ramsay Bolton’ on them…”

“You- you watch Thrones?” I ask.

“I love Game of Thrones!” Becca laughs. “Yeah, a lot of it is a bit unnecessary, but it really is an awesome show.” I smile at Becca as we finish touching up our make-up. “Anyway, back on-topic, there’s no one you ever, you know, wanted?”

“Well-“ I say, before sighing and lowering my head. “Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“Go on…” Becca teases.

“When we first started…” I sigh. “I kinda- had a little- a little bit of a thing for- for- your brother…” Much to my dismay, Becca throws her head back and roars with thunderous laughter, with Adeola also doubling over in a fit of giggles.

“Oh come on, really?” I moan.

“I’m sorry!” Becca says between tears of laughter. “Oh, god, need to catch my breath…” Becca bursts into another laughing fit before finally composing herself.

“It isn’t even that funny really,” Adeola giggles. “God knows I’ve looked at him once or twice…”

“It’s not the thought of ‘you and Stuart’,” Becca says, “it’s the thought of ‘anyone and Stuart’!”

“Even though he’s in a long-term relationship with a famous model and media figure?” I ask.

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Becca spits.

“Ooh, we’re back on this,” Adeola giggles as we leave the agency together. “I’ll be sure to open SEVERAL bottles of wine tonight! What you doing now, Steph?”

“Umm, probably heading home,” I say. “Which home, I’m not sure… Basically being forced out of the apartment and back into my parents’ home, fortunately mum and dad are okay with this but it’s such a pain, I only just got settled there…”

“Braveheart going solo, then, or getting the munchkin to move in with her?” Becca asks.

“Kayla’s moving in with Lauren,” I say, deliberately not using either of Becca’s demeaning nicknames. “I only really need to move clothes, my laptop and iPad, my cosmetics…”

“Eh, well you can do those anytime,” Becca says. “The three of us are going out tonight for a drink!” Despite myself, I find the corners of my mouth turning upwards. Even two weeks ago, the thought of going for a drink with Becca and Adeola would’ve filled me with a sense of dread, but after today… It’s like I’ve had two best friends all along and am only just starting to realise it.

I stay out with Becca and Adeola until just after 7pm- our 'drink' quickly turning into 'dinner'- during which I bond with the two girls much more than I've done over the last five months. I learn a lot more about their history, about how Adeola's parents both died when she was very young and she moved from Nigeria to England to be raised by her uncle, and I learn plenty about Becca's life, including how much she adores her new nephew and how she thinks that Jamie isn't even remotely good enough for her brother. I also open up about my past- now that I no longer have to lie about my relationship with my parents, I can open up in a way I couldn't before... Though I am obviously careful not to reveal anything about 'Steve's existence.

I eventually arrive back at the apartment to be greeted by concerned stares from both Lauren and Kayla.

"You were out late," Lauren says in an almost accusatory tone.

"Becca and Addie took me out for a drink," I shrug. "Then dinner."

"Since when do you hang out with Becca and Adeola?" Kayla asks.

"What?" I shrug again. "We've worked together for five months, kinda makes sense to grow closer to them." Especially as I'm growing further apart from the two of you, what with you kicking me out... I think to myself. "You might want to try it some time."

"Ugh, whatever," Lauren spits. "You say you've already eaten dinner? Good, then I don't have to get up and cook for you again..."

"You're welcome," I say, before heading into my bedroom and continuing to pack away my belongings. I pause before opening the drawer in my wardrobe that contains 'Steve's clothes- with my male clothes gone from my parents' house, they're the last remnants of my former life. It would so easy just to get rid of these as well, cut all ties with 'Steve' and live the rest of my life as 'Stephanie'. It's what I've always dreamed about, it's what's expected of me, not just by my family, but by my employers as well... And yet, I simply can't let go of my 'other life'. With a sigh, I pack the small collection of male clothes into an inner compartment of the suitcase, making sure they're sealed away from prying eyes, before returning to the living room, where I (and, of course, Lauren and Kayla) spend the rest of the evening watching TV in silence.

I groan as my alarm clock wakes me half an hour earlier than usual, though with three girls now living in the apartment- however temporarily- it's very much to my advantage to get into the bathroom first, which I achieve by mere minutes as I hear one of my 'friends' rattle the door handle as I shower. After exiting the shower with a towel wrapped around my torso and another wrapped around my hair- just as Kayla had yesterday- I return to my room to dress for the day. As it's Wednesday, it's also our second dance lesson of the week, so after donning my foundation garments I pull on a clean pair of baby pink tights and a short-sleeved black leotard, followed by a loose short-sleeved summer dress.

As always, I travel to the dance studio in a taxi alongside Lauren and Kayla, though the tension from last night is still very much present, meaning that the entire journey is conducted in silence. When we arrive at the studio, however, the three of us are shocked to see our two other bandmates present- and judging by the colour of their legs, they're clearly here to dance as well.

"Hi Steph!" Becca says, greeting me with a hug as though we were old friends. "Hi Lauren, Hi Kayla."

"What are you two doing here?" I ask, a genuine smile creeping onto my face.

"Well," Becca says smugly. "We figured that three teachers are better than one!"

"But you're not teachers," Lauren reminds the two girls.

"One teacher and two assistants, then," Adeola says. "Besides, it's not like we can get any practice for the launch party done without you three, so we figured we may as well do something useful with our time!"

"Your birthday's in January, isn't it?" Becca asks me, smiling when I nod. "It'd be SO cool if you could dance en pointe by then- and with our help, you just might make it!"

"Um, I dunno, I'm a singer, not a ballerina!" I giggle.

"Oh come on," Adeola laughs. "You saw how proud your parents were on Monday, I bet if you got up there in a tutu and pointe shoes they'd be in tears!" I'd probably be the one who cried... I think to myself as Becca and Adeola all but drag me into the studio, where, as promised, they help me with my steps and stretches. They also help Lauren and Kayla, but it's clear that they're only really interested in helping me- and as we leave the studio at the end of the lesson, I quickly learn that that was clear to Lauren and Kayla as well.

"How kind of your new best friends to show up," Lauren spits in my direction as we get changed.

"What?" I protest. "I didn't invite them, they just showed up of their own accord..."

"No, of course you didn't invite them," Kayla says sarcastically. "You just go out for dinner with them and all of a sudden they show up to our Wednesday lessons for the first time in five months..."

"Oh- what? Seriously?" I ask. "Aren't we all supposed to be members of the same band? Aren't we all supposed to get along?" This thankfully silences my two bandmates, though the silence does become awkward as the three of us- along with Becca and Adeola- head to the studio for practice.

Five hours later, with our throats tired from endless singing, the five of us leave the studio, and once again, Lauren and Kayla barely pay any attention to me whilst Becca and Adeola immediately start walking in step with me.

"Soo," Becca asks. "Any plans for tonight? I know a GREAT sushi bar nearby if you're up for dinner..."

"Eh, I'd love to," I reply. "But I'm kinda busy, got to see my counsellor- I already rearranged the meeting from this morning to fit in the extra practice, can't really brush her off again. Then I have to finish packing..."

"Oh, no worries," Becca says with a genuine smile. "Let me know when you're settled in, we should throw you a housewarming party!"

"What, for moving back in with my parents?" I ask.

"No shame in living with your parents!" Becca laughs. "Take it from someone who knows!"

"Take it from TWO people who know!" Adeola laughs. "My uncle legally adopted me when I was six, I still live with him, so it counts, right?"

"Of course it does!" Becca giggles, giving her BFF a playful hug. "Heh, maybe we should've called the band 'daddy's little girls'..."

"Umm, 'little'?" Adeola asks, pointing to her 5' 9" frame.

"Touché," Becca says. "We'll see you tomorrow, Steph- hope you enjoy your meeting!"

"Thanks," I say as I split away from Becca and Adeola and get in my waiting taxi. With our fame increasing- and especially since news of my reconciliation with my parents has become public- I've found myself relying more and more on taxis and less and less on public transport. Giving out autographs and posing for selfies is one thing, but fielding questions about my personal life is something I'd prefer not to do with random members of the public.

"Hi Steph!" Dr Phillips says as I walk into her office. "It's been three days, how are things going with your parents?"

"Perfect," I reply. "Better than perfect, in fact. I'm moving back in with them tomorrow, they've redecorated my room to make it more suitable for a girl, god rid of all my old boy's clothes, my boy's stuff..."

"How does that make you feel?" Dr Phillips asks. "I know you always thought of your room at home as a 'haven', a place you could go to escape your feminine life."

"Now that haven's gone," I sigh. "And I feel... Not so much 'trapped' as 'smothered', like I'm stuck as a girl with no way out, but... It's not, you know, necessarily a bad thing, not a nightmare, more a dream that I don't seem to be able to wake up from no matter how hard I try. And sometimes I DO try..."

"So you're saying that you'd be comfortable to live for the foreseeable future as a woman?" Dr Phillips asks.

"I've got no problems with it," I say. "But... I did bring some male clothes with me when I moved out of home, they survived the 'cull'. They're kind-of like an 'escape plan', silly as that sounds."

"It doesn't sound silly to me," Dr Phillips says. "I did note on Sunday that you told your parents that you intended to fully transition... I take it they're still unaware of the truth?"

"As far as they're concerned I'll be Stephanie until the day I die," I say. "In a way I kinda wish they did have a problem with it, then at least I'd have an excuse to back out of it all... I know that must make me sound selfish."

"It's your life," Dr Phillips says. "You're perfectly entitled to live it however you want."

"Even when it hurts others?" I moan. "I came out to my brothers on Monday. Tom- my oldest brother- didn't take it all that well..."

"I'm happy for him to come to a counselling session anytime," Dr Phillips says. "Even if it does mean I'll have to prolong your lie, but you'll have an easier time coming clean to your family if they're all comfortable with how- or rather, who- you currently are."

"Thanks," I say with a smile. "The one good thing to come out of all this is that I'm getting on better now with Becca and Adeola... Even if that is at the expense of my friendship with Lauren and Kayla. I think they felt betrayed by, you know, everything..."

"They stood by you on Sunday," Dr Phillips says. "I wouldn't be so hasty to simply throw away that friendship just because you're closer to the quote-unquote popular kids."

"I know," I sigh. "It's just- things feel completely different now, and I'm not sure whether or not it's better than it was."

"Everybody undergoes great upheavals over the course of their lives," Dr Phillips advises. "How we deal with change will help to shape the type of life we lead in the future."

"And whether or not that life will be as a man or as a woman?" I ask.

"Precisely," Dr Phillips confirms.

I leave the office an hour later, and as always, while I feel better for getting my problems off my chest, I'm no closer to finding the internal stability I crave.

"Hi Lauren, Hi Kayla," I say as I walk through the front door of my apartment for the final time as a resident.

"Hi Steph," Lauren says. "Are you all packed?" Nice to see you too... I think to myself.

"Yep," I say. "Dad's picking me up tomorrow morning, I'm dropping off my cases before heading to work. I am going to miss this place, though."

"Okay," Lauren says, dropping down next to Kayla on the sofa.

"Lauren," I sigh, sitting down opposite the two girls. "Can- can we talk this through? Whatever it is I've done to offend you, I am really, really sorry."

"It's not that," Lauren sighs. "It's just- ugh. I thought I knew you, Steph. Then the last five days happen and it's like everything I thought I knew was a lie. And... I'm kinda missing Scotland."

"Well, that's not really MY fault," I say.

"No," Lauren replies. "But look at it from my perspective: I have to literally tear myself away from my family, and a very, very short period of time later you tell me that you've been deliberately separating yourself from your family out of what, cowardice? And your mum and dad turn out- unsurprisingly- to be perfectly okay with who you are. Hard not to take that even slightly personally."

"But- but we are still friends, right?" I ask.

"Yes, of course," Lauren sighs. "Even if you and butt-bounce seem to be growing closer..."

"Trust me, that's all her, not me!" I say, making Lauren and Kayla both giggle happily. "It's probably this that I'll miss the most..."

"You can stay over anytime you want," Kayla offers. "As long as you don't mind the sofa bed, of course!" I giggle as Kayla heads into the kitchen to prepare dinner for the three of us, which we enjoy together as friends before heading to bed just after 9:30pm.

My alarm wakes me up at 7am- early enough to be out of the shower and dressed before either of my friends get up- and when I hear a familiar-sounding car engine pull up outside the apartment, I feel a twinge of sadness when I realise that this is it- I'm finally leaving the place I'd made my home over the last five months. Of course, I'm returning to the place that was my home for much, much longer, but part of my desire to live as Stephanie included earning my own independence, and now I'm being forced to surrender that.

"God, I wish I was still mad at you, this would make this easier," Lauren laughs, giving me a hug as dad hauls my suitcases down the stairs and into his car.

"Eh, you'll settle in with Kayla soon enough," I laugh. "And it's not like I'm leaving forever, you'll see me in literally less than one hour at work!"

"Yeah," Lauren concedes. "But there you'll be 'colleague Steph', not 'flatmate Steph'... Guess you're more familiar with changes than any of us though, heh."

"You can say that again," I giggle as Lauren releases me and I give Kayla a quick hug. "Take care of my old room, okay?"

"Sure thing," Kayla says with a smile, before she and Lauren wave me off as I get in dad's car and head home.

"It's going to be great, having you home," dad says. "You're going to love what we've done with your room!" I doubt it... I think to myself.

Sure enough, when we arrive at my new- and old- home, I'm led straight up to my bedroom, and my jaw drops in shock at the sight of it. Gone are my dull blue walls and endless shelves, replaced by warm pink walls with various stencils around the edges- flowers, ballerinas, all things feminine. My wardrobe has remained where it was, but has been repainted from white to a soft pink colour, and my plain, almost military single bed has been replaced by a slightly larger extravagant bed with warm wood detailing and soft pink sheets. Pride of place in my room, however, goes to my new dressing table, which already has various cosmetics and perfumes laid out on top of it. I blink back tears as I look on the room, though I'm unable to say whether they're tears of happiness or sadness.

"It's perfect," I say, smiling and giving my dad a quick hug. "Thank you so much!"

"Anything for my favourite daughter!" Dad laughs. "Just dump your cases for now, I'll drop you off at work and then we can unpack when you get home!"

"Umm," I say, realising that I DON'T want dad to find the male clothes hidden in my suitcase. "I'd, um, kinda prefer to unpack myself, just so I know where everything will be going."

"Huh, okay," dad shrugs. "Saves me from having to drown myself in girlishness, I guess! Come on, you don't want to be late..." I smile as I follow dad back down to the car, taking one last wistful look at my Xbox on the way out. Six months ago, I'd have pulled on a slouchy pair of jeans and a baggy sweatshirt and plopped myself down in front of it for a lazy day of gaming... But six months ago I was also an unemployed nobody who was plagued with thoughts of becoming a girl.

After work- during which Lauren and Becca still struggle to get along- I head straight home, turning down yet another dinner invitation from Becca on the (truthful) grounds that I need to unpack. By 6:30pm, I've almost finished unpacking when dad announces that he's leaving for his shift at work, leaving me alone in the house with just one last thing to unpack- my 'Steve' clothes. There aren't many clothes in the pile- just a pair of jeans, three t-shirts, two sweatshirts and some boxer shorts and socks- but to me they're just as valuable as my 'Stephanie' clothes were six months ago. After making sure that I'm alone in the house, I lay out a set of underwear, a t-shirt and the jeans on my bed, before sitting down at my new dressing table and carefully removing my make-up. After taking a deep breath, I unzip my patterned, knee-length dress and step out of it, leaving me in just my bra, girdle and panties, all of which I remove, dumping in the laundry basket in the bathroom.

After returning to my bedroom, I pull on the boxer shorts and breathe a sigh of relief at just how comfortable, how RIGHT it feels. I follow up with the thick black socks, pulling them over my feet and covering up my black-coloured toenails, before pulling on the jeans and the t-shirt and collapsing back on my new bed. Even though this room looks, feels and smells like it belongs to a girl, for this one, brief moment, I can be a boy again. I head downstairs and switch on my Xbox for what feels like the first time in years and sit back and relax, whiling away the night shooting digital aliens with equally digital guns, before heading back to my room and changing from 'Steve's clothes into one of 'Stephanie's nighties. Whenever I needed to clean 'Stephanie's clothes in the past, I'd wait until my parents were both out of the house for a prolonged period of time and wash them all at the same time- as I put my worn boxer shorts in a safe space at the back of my wardrobe, I muse on how I'm now going to have to do the same thing for 'Steve's clothes.

As I did on Monday, I have a brief moment of panic when my alarm wakes me up and I find myself in unfamiliar feminine surroundings, before slowly remembering that this room, this unashamedly female room, is in fact mine. I sigh as I drag myself out of bed and head into the shower, before returning to my room, sitting down in front of my dressing table and applying my make-up, before pulling on a clean padded bra, girdle and control thong, followed by a tight, stripey t-shirt and a short black skirt. The whole process of transforming myself into 'Stephanie' whilst in my family home still seems strange, almost wrong somehow- but no less exciting than when I first started dressing as 'Stephanie'.

"Morning, Steph!" Mum says with a smile. "I've been doing some reading up on your band, and these 'Angel' girls you hang out with, I understand Friday's the night you usually go out on the town, is that right?"

"Um, yeah, usually," I say, stunned at being bombarded with this information so soon after getting up.

"Well, I'll know not to wait up for you tonight then, girls will be girls!" Mum chuckles. "Just make sure that you're careful!"

"Umm, will do," I say as mum shoves a cup of coffee under my nose.

"I'm so glad that you're back where you belong," mum says. "And that you don't have to 'hide' anymore. I've already sent links to your video to everyone in the extended family, and explained to them that either they're happy for you and proud of your success, or they can get lost!"

"...Does 'extended family' include Tom?" I ask.

"I emailed him," mum says quietly. "I'm sure he'll be back soon. On the topic of your brothers, Danny called yesterday and asked- and you know him, I'm NOT making this up- if you could set him up with that Hannah girl you hang out with, the one the press reckon will be on Strictly this year."

"I'll ask her," I giggle. "He got tired of his last girlfriend quick, then!"

"He split from her over a month ago!" Mum says. "...I'm sure you'll be more in the loop now that you're back living at home. Now drink up, you don't want to be late for work!" I smile as I finish my breakfast, before mum drops me off outside the recording studio- making me feel a little guilty as I see a photographer in the distance taking a photo of me giving her a goodbye hug.

"Hey Steph!" Becca squeaks happily, giving me a hug before either or Lauren or Kayla have the chance to say hello. "Exciting day today, our costumes- sorry, 'uniforms'- have arrived!"

"Cool!" I say happily, following my friends into the studio, where as promised, I find five very formal-looking blue skirt suits hanging on a clothing rack. All five of us giggle excitedly as we change into our own bespoke uniforms (complete with matching high-heeled shoes), giggling even louder as we tie our hair back into the elaborate French pleats that are the trademark hairstyles of Soixante-Trois Airlines stewardesses, and by the time we don our iconic pillbox hats, we're almost bouncing up and down with excitement.

"Okay, okay," Stuart sighs from his control booth. "We'll call today a 'dress rehearsal' then..." The five of us smile as we take our place behind our microphones, infuriating Stuart by constantly adjusting our uniforms (especially our hats) as he prepares to play the music to which we'll be singing.

We're eventually given the rest of the day free at 1:30pm after a string of successful practice sessions, and after reluctantly changing out of our uniforms, Becca and Adeola once again swoop down on me, out of earshot of Lauren and Kayla.

"Hey Steph!" Becca laughs. "You look SO good in that uniform, if the worst should happen and the band doesn't succeed, I reckon you'd make a great stewardess!"

"Oh please," I snort. "As if that band isn't gonna succeed!" The roars of laughter from Becca and Adeola tell me that my joke went down especially well- and that they have truly accepted me as their friend.

"I take it you'll be coming out tonight?" Adeola asks.

"Of course," I say. "Parents work shifts so it'll be a nice change for me to be the one sneaking into the house at 2am!"

"Excellent!" Becca laughs. "Before that, though, I may have a reservation at a beauty salon not far from here... And I never said how many of my friends I'd be bringing along!"

"They wouldn't mind a group of us coming along?" I ask.

"Oh please," Becca snorts. "For a few publicity photos they'll probably give us all free makeovers!" I open my mouth to agree with Becca, though it suddenly dawns on me that when Becca says 'all', she of course means me, herself and Adeola- when the band is formed of five girls, not three.

"Hey, Lauren, Kayla!" I shout.

"Um, Steph?" Becca asks, confused by my actions.

"What's up?" Lauren asks, staring at Becca as I gesture to the dark-haired girl with my eyes.

"I, um," Becca stutters. "May have a reservation as a very exclusive beauty salon... And not mentioned just how many of the band will be coming..." I smile as Lauren and Kayla's jaws drop with excitement.

"That is so cool!" Lauren says, giving Becca- who up until recently, was her effective nemesis- a quick hug.

"Well don't thank me yet," Becca laughs. "You haven't seen how expensive it is yet..."

"Too rich for five teenaged megastars?" Kayla giggles, grabbing her handbag.

"Probably not," Becca says, obviously chagrined at her private beauty session being turned into a group session- and probably chagrined at being reminded that she's the only one of us who technically isn't a teenager anymore. A look back at Lauren and Kayla's smiling faces, however, tell me that I was right to 'betray' Becca in this instance- and it may even help to bring her and Adeola closer to Lauren and Kayla, though hopefully not at my expense, of course!

The beauty treatments the five of us get are as extensive as they are expensive- I get a (surprisingly painless) eyebrow wax, a full facial and a thorough exfoliating treatment that leaves my skin feeling as soft as the day I was born. My hair is thoroughly washed and styled into a fun wavy look, I have thick fake eyelashes professionally applied, and my finger- and toenails are recoloured a rich rusty red colour. All the changes feel amazing once they're complete, and get me a lot of attention as I go out on the town with Becca, Adeola and the other Angels- but as I arrive home and prepare for bed, it dawns on me just how permanent the changes are.

After a brief practice session the following day, I return home to find my parents at work, and the house is mine for the next three hours. I immediately strip off my dress and my underwear, pulling on a pair of boxer shorts and socks, followed by the jeans and the t-shirt I was wearing on Thursday. After I finish dressing, however, a quick glance in the mirror hammers home a truth I'd tried to avoid. When I looked in the mirror on Thursday, I saw an effeminate boy wearing boyish clothing, but now, with my professionally-applied makeover, feminine hair and dark red nails, I really can't see a boy anymore, but a girl pretending to be a boy. If I'd seen this face staring back at me six months ago- and known that my parents would fully approve of it- I'd probably have died of happiness, but now, all I can do is mourn for the boy that I once was.

Why can't I just be happy with who I am, and what I have?

I have a wide grin on my face as I hold up the small, brightly-coloured CD case, turning my face so that each of the cameras can get a clear view of me- and, of course, the CD, which is the real star of the show.

I’m wearing a very slinky, silvery red- grey dress that has a halter neck and a short, tight skirt. My waist is taken in a couple of inches by an elasticated waist cincher and my chest is ‘enhanced’ by a strapless padded bra. My hairless legs are encased in thin, translucent tights and my feet are clad in red pumps with a four inch stiletto heel. My long, brown hair is styled to perfection, my make-up is immaculate- especially my glossy red lipstick- and my long fingernails are coated in a dark bronze colour. I have never felt more feminine or more glamorous than I do right now… And yet all I feel inside is conflicted.

Ever since I was a young boy I’ve dreamed of being able to dress like this, be loved for the woman I always wanted to be… And yet all I can think about is being that boy again, stripping off my dress and my heels, scrubbing away my make-up and crashing on my sofa at home, a pizza in one hand and a videogame in the other. But every time I have these feelings, they’re inevitably followed by yet another feeling- guilt.

There are literally thousands of women who would give their right arm to be where I am right now- and, undoubtedly, thousands of men as well. I have been accepted in my personal and professional life as a woman even despite my transgendered status, and the number of fans I have who support me vastly outnumber those who don’t. Anytime a transphobic comment appears on one of our YouTube videos, or on my Facebook or Twitter pages, it’s immediately reported by several of my fans and the person who made the comment is subjected to a verbal beatdown of epic proportions. I am a role model to teenage girls- transgendered and cisgendered- nationwide, and earning thousands of pounds each week from royalties and endorsements, enough for me to live very, very comfortably. It’s just a shame that deep down inside, I know that I’m a fraud.

Nine months ago, I was supposed to have started taking hormone replacement tablets that would transform my blood chemistry from male to female, but in truth, I haven’t taken a single tablet. I see my counsellor every week, who helps me manage my conflicted life, but she refuses to prescribe me oestrogen tablets (and I have asked for them on a couple of occasions), and I’m no closer to resolving the conflict that defines my life: do I want to be a man, or do I want to be a woman? My counsellor has advised me that ‘both’ is a viable option, but even she agrees that in my case, long-term, I’m eventually going to have to choose one way or the other.

“Steph! Over here!” One of the paparazzi shouts. I widen my grin and flash my brilliant white teeth for the man, who snaps photo after photo of me and the CD before turning his attention to another of my bandmates.

“Thank you all for coming!” Joshua- our manager- booms, momentarily silencing the noise of the camera shutters. “Over the last seven months these five beautiful young women have sung their hearts out…” I half-listen as Joshua introduces the official launch of our first album, but my mind soon wanders off completely to thoughts of ‘Steve’s life, only snapping back once Joshua finishes speaking and is greeted by a round of applause from the assembled press.

“Any questions?” Joshua asks with his trademark wide grin.

“Who came up with the title, ‘No More Lies’?” One of the reporters asks, making me wince even though the title was decided before my ‘revelation’ in the summer.

“That was actually my brother,” Becca says, sparing my blushes. “It’s one of the songs he wrote for the album, it was his favourite, my favourite, I think it’s Kayla’s favourite too…”

“Yeah,” the tiny blonde girl confirms. “We all had loads of fun recording it too, it was obvious it’d be our first single. First original single, anyway!”

“What’s it like inside the recording booth?” Another reporter asks. “The behind the scenes videos you put out make it look like a lot of fun, but I trust you all work hard?”

“I make sure they do!” Joshua says, making everyone laugh. “But the girls all get on fine, the band works because they’re all friends as well as colleagues!” I and the other four girls all nod in agreement, but the stares I receive from Kayla and Lauren tell me that they don’t agree fully with what Joshua is saying.

I’ve lived at home for the whole of the two and a half months since I was all but forced out of my flat, and during that time I’ve grown more and more distant from Lauren and Kayla. It’s clear that neither of them truly forgive me for ‘deceiving’ them no matter how much I apologise.

Alternatively, the reason they’re unwilling to forgive could be because of how close I’ve grown to the other two girls in the band. Becca, Adeola and I are now very much a ‘trio’. We go out clubbing almost every Friday night, we hang out at each other’s houses every opportunity we get, we exchange clothes and cosmetics, the two of them have even tried setting me up on dates with (in their eyes) suitable guys- none of which get beyond the first date stage, of course, but that doesn’t stop them from trying, especially since Adeola found herself (or rather, Becca found her) a seemingly steady boyfriend last month.

My family have been the strongest source of support, though. My parents were happy to ‘bite the bullet’ and treat our ‘reunion’ as a reconciliation despite the pain that it caused them to be thought of as ex-bigots. Mum in particular was happy to have me back living under her roof- as the youngest in the family, she’s always been somewhat over-protective of me. The same, however, can’t be said of my brothers.

“I have a question for Steph,” one of the reporters says, causing me to invisibly tense up.

“Shoot,” I say, trying to sound as relaxed as possible.

“Do you think any members of your family will buy the album?” The reporter asks. I force a smile onto my lips, but inside I’m burning with anger about the personal nature of the question.

“Umm, knowing my mum, she’ll probably buy a hundred copies!” I say, making everyone giggle. “I don’t think dad’s allowed to listen to music in his ambulance, but if he is I’ll make sure he gets a copy too. My brothers… Probably aren’t our target market!”

“Though they’re more than welcome to buy it they want, as is everyone else!” Joshua interjects, making everyone giggle.

“My brothers are DEFINITELY getting a copy for Christmas!” Lauren chuckles.

“…I can probably slip a CD into each of my brothers’ stockings too!” I say, making the crowd laugh even harder, even as my mind begins to scramble at the mention of my siblings.

From the very first second I first introduced ‘Stephanie’ to my brothers two months ago, my relationship with them changed forever. We were never especially close, due to the age difference between them and myself, but I always knew I could count on them if I was ever in any trouble. Now, however… I don’t even know what to think.

I’ve barely exchanged twenty words with Tom, my oldest brother, since I came out to him. Whenever we’re having a family dinner, he’ll happily to speak to my other brother or my parents, but every time his eyes catch a sight of my feminine face or body, he’ll immediately look elsewhere, at someone else, out a window, even at the floor, anything that ISN’T me.

Danny, on the other hand… I’ve always been closer to Danny than I was to Tom, even though there’s still a six year age gap, but since I came out, he’s been pestering me about my celebrity life (and, to a lesser extent, about my transition) on an almost daily basis, usually over Facebook. Whenever I get invited to a celebrity party or a promotional event and am asked to bring along a ‘plus one’, he inevitably fills that role and spends the whole evening trying to schmooze. Very often I’m left embarrassed by his efforts, but he always brushes it off as though nothing fazes him. And, of course, his personal support for me over the last couple of months has been invaluable. It’s just a shame he realises that and exploits it so much…

After the Q&A completes, the five of us pose for yet more photographs with our CD, before the press conference disperses and we’re escorted back to our plush dressing room to change back into more comfortable clothes, which for me means a tight, low-cut grey top and a straight denim skirt. As I slide the skirt up my legs I have to constantly remind myself just how much I enjoy being a woman, how much I fantasised about this when I was younger, how lucky I am to live the life I have and how lucky I am to be accepted for the person I always wanted to be… And yet I can’t stop wishing that the skirt was a comfortable, loose pair of jeans.

“This is it!” Becca squeaks excitedly. “Money, money, money!”

“When will we find out where it is in the charts?” Kayla asks as she strips off her slinky pink minidress in favour of a short grey pleated skirt and a dusky pink hoodie.

“Not for a week,” Adeola replies. “iTunes charts are updated almost constantly though, so we should see results on that pretty quickly!”

“What d’you reckon,” Becca laughs. “Top ten by Sunday?”

“We’d better be, all the promotional shit we’re doing!” Lauren says, making Kayla laugh and Becca and Adeola smirk.

“And I was just getting used to sleeping in my own bed,” I laugh, making Adeola give me a playful hug.

“Aww,” the tall, dark-skinned girl giggles. “And I was just getting used to sleeping ON my new man!”

“It’s such a hardship,” Lauren sarcastically laughs. “Getting to ride first class on a train, staying in a posh suite at a hotel, all at the agency’s expense…” I smirk as I follow the four girls out of the dressing room- past crowds of screaming fans who’ve come to see our launch and who relentlessly photograph us- and into a specially-converted minibus that’s been repainted with images of all five of us, much like the old London cab my ‘colleagues’ the Angels use. The minibus whisks us off to Euston station, where we head straight onto the first class section of a waiting train. A few hours later, we’re checking into one of Manchester’s poshest hotels, smiles on our faces despite our tiring day, and the promise of an even more tiring day tomorrow. After a very fancy, very expensive dinner, the five of us head up to our rooms, where I can finally relax for the first time all day.

Whenever the five of us stay at a hotel- which is increasingly often nowadays- we always have the same sleeping arrangements- Becca and Adeola share a room, Lauren and Kayla share a room, and I have a room to myself. Even though to the other four girls it seems like I’m isolating myself, this is a situation I’m very happy with- precisely because I AM isolating myself. In the past I’d had little sympathy for celebrities being constantly hounded by fans, reasoning that it was a small price to pay for their fame and fortune. Now that I’m on the ‘other side of the fence’, I realise just how precious alone time can be, especially as I can use the time to forget not just about being a celebrity… But I can forget all about my ‘dilemma’ as well.

After removing my make-up I thrust myself under the shower and let the hot water wash away all my stress, leaving my long brown hair clinging to my glistening, hairless body. I stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror and for the first time in a while, I smile a genuine smile. Here, in this one instant, I am not a woman. I’m not even a man. I’m neither Steve nor Steph… I’m just me. Genderless, free to be who and whatever I want to be.

I climb into bed just after 10pm after an evening in front of the television, and quickly fall asleep, the sheer androgyny of the room relaxing my mind and body much more than my own feminine bedroom at home.

My alarm wakes me at 5am and I groggily crawl out of bed, quickly washing my face before applying a light layer of make-up and pulling on my underwear (complete with the extra ‘shape’ that’s been added to the delicate garments). Even though yesterday’s skirt and top are still perfectly okay to wear, I still pick a fresh black miniskirt and figure-hugging red jumper out of my suitcase and slide them on over my figure, before slipping my feet into an uncomfortable pair of stilettos, touching up my nail polish, grabbing my handbag and heading down to meet the other girls at breakfast.

“Hey Steph!” Becca says happily as I approach hers and Adeola’s table.

“Hey girlies!” I respond tiredly. “Why are we doing BBC Breakfast today again? I mean, how many people actually get up this early on a Saturday morning?” I smirk as Adeola bursts out into a loud fit of laughter, one very reminiscent of her rich uncle.

“Us, sadly!” Becca giggles. “But it’s good publicity, it IS the most watched breakfast time show in the UK… And we need to grab every bit of publicity while we can!”

“You sound like my uncle!” Adeola teases, making Becca snort with laughter.

“Meh,” Becca shrugs. “I’m the oldest in the band, someone’s got to be the ‘big sister’, the responsible one…”

“And you’re saying that person is YOU?” Adeola teases, making Becca- and myself- laugh even harder.

“I’m hungry,” Becca says between laughs. “Come on, this place is self-bloody-service…”

“Where are Lauren and Kayla?” I ask as I follow Becca to the breakfast buffet that’s been laid out especially for the five of us.

“Dunno, haven’t seen them,” Becca shrugs as she grabs the largest croissant from the tray and dramatically takes a large bite out of it. “Their loss!” I force myself to laugh at Becca’s fake gluttony, but deep down, I still feel a twinge of regret that even after all this time, the band still has a schism running through it. Becca’s jealousy of Lauren isn’t nearly as bad as it used to be- the fact that we’re all paid equally and treated as equals by the media helps there- but it’s clear that she (and, to a lesser extent, Adeola) views herself as the real star of the band.

Lauren and Kayla do eventually join us fifteen minutes later, but sit at a different table to myself, Becca and Adeola (in fairness, 5 people around our table would’ve been a bit of a squeeze), before we all leave the hotel and jump into two waiting taxis to be ferried off to the studio in Salford. There, we once again change from our street clothes into the posh dresses transported to the North by Kellie (our PA) before having our make-up enhanced by the BBC’s professional make-up artists.

As I’m escorted onto the set I’m so familiar with- both from watching it on TV and from my previous visits- I’m surprised by just how calm I am. Prior to my first television appearance many months ago, I was terrified, but now, the prospect of going on-screen in front of millions of viewers, or on stage in front of thousands of fans, doesn’t trouble me in the slightest- even when I’m pretending to be a gender that I’m not, or at least not fully…

“Earlier this year,” Charlie- the presenter- says to the camera, “five young women from across the country came together to form a new girl band, which has taken the country by storm with such hits as ‘No More Lies’ and their debut single, a cover of Belinda Carlisle’s ‘Heaven is a Place on Earth’.”

“The girls have just released their first album,” Louise- Charlie’s co-host- continues, “and we’re very lucky to have them with us on the sofa this morning. Out of Heaven, welcome to BBC Breakfast!” The five of us all smile as the camera turns to face us and the large image of our CD on the screen behind us.

“Thanks,” all five of us reply in the quiet, professional manner we’ve been taught over the past few months. Once again, I start to tune out as questions are asked about our formation and the production of the album, most of which are answered by ‘big sister’ Becca. I’m once again forced back to attention, though, when I feel the presenters look squarely in my direction before asking their next question.

“Your band will be touring in the new year to support the album,” Charlie says, “but you’re currently on a whistle-stop publicity tour to celebrate its launch. How does it feel to spend so much time away from home when you’re just seventeen?” My mouth pops open to answer, before immediately shutting again as I remember that I’m actually nineteen years old… But the girl sat immediately next to me- and who the presenters were actually looking at- isn’t.

“…I do, umm, really miss home at times,” Kayla says as the eyes of the band turn to her. “Fortunately, I’ve got the best flat mate in the world to help me whenever I feel homesick!” Lauren and Kayla share a quick giggle as the presenters also chuckle with delight.

“There’s also talk that you’ll be doing a publicity tour of Europe in the near future,” Charlie asks. “Maybe even America.”

“That’s just a rumour at this stage,” Adeola chuckles as I hear Kayla’s breathing slowly return to normal after being put on the spot. For the rest of the interview- during which I thankfully don’t get asked any personal questions- all I can concentrate on is Kayla, and how she seems a lot more nervous than usual. Even as we’re changing back into our street clothes, she still seems quieter, more withdrawn than usual.

“Hey Kayla,” I quietly say to the tiny blonde girl. “Are- are you okay? You seemed kinda distant out there…”

“…Says the girl who didn’t answer ANY questions on set!” Kayla retorts with a playful smile. “Hope you don’t mind getting yet ANOTHER bollocking from Joshua for that!”

“Every interview I do, I get a question about my parents or my transition,” I say. “It’s their job to come to me, not the other way around!”

“Ooh, get you, Miss Diva!” Kayla says, making me giggle. “I dunno, maybe I’m just nervous about next Saturday…”

“It’s your eighteenth birthday,” I shrug. “Meant to be the happiest day of your life, isn’t it?"

“Yeah, I guess,” Kayla laughs as we hang up our slinky dresses for Kellie to wheel away. “Come on, one more interview today then we can finally go home!” I smile as I leave the studio with the four other girls and hop in a waiting taxi, which drives us the short distance to yet another TV studio, where we once again change into expensive, fashionable dresses and answer questions about our album. This time, I am asked a question about my ‘transition’- a generic one I must’ve answered a hundred times before- but once again, Kayla gets the lion’s share of the questions, and again, she looks uncomfortable being asked them. Maybe I’m not the only member of the band with something to hide…

After pulling on my miniskirt and jumper for the third time in eight hours, I- and the rest of the band- breathe a sigh of relief as we leave the studio and head back to Piccadilly station, our ‘work’ done for another day. Once again, we’re treated like royalty on our first-class rail trip back to London, where our specially-branded minibus is waiting to whisk us back to our respective homes.

“See you at Charlotte’s tonight!” Becca squeaks happily as the minibus drops me outside my home, with her and Adeola also giving me quick hugs before driving away. As I enter my home I breathe a sigh of relief, dropping my suitcase in the entrance hall before collapsing on the sofa, where I kick off my tiny flats and stare at my dark red toenails underneath my translucent tights.

“Afternoon, megastar!” Dad laughs as he sits down opposite me. “Just going to leave your case in the stairwell, then? Or are you going to summon one of your army of PAs to take it upstairs?”

“Give me a break, I had an early morning,” I moan, making dad chuckle.

“Heh, and here I was thinking that ‘Steph’ would be more responsible than ‘Steve’ ever was,” dad says. “You had dinner yet?”

“Yeah, on the train,” I say. “I’ll probably eat something before heading out tonight.”

“Yet another misconception,” dad chuckles. “That you moving back in would mean we’d see more of you than usual. Though if you’re going to be touring Europe and America…”

“That’s not even at the planning stage yet,” I say. “Mum still at work?”

“She’ll be back before you go,” dad says. “Think Danny said he’ll be dropping round too.”

“Ugh, no prizes for guessing why,” I moan.

“Oh come on,” dad says. “He IS your brother, surely you’re glad he’s taking an interest in your life?”

“He’s taking an interest in my FRIENDS,” I retort. “Lost count of the amount of times he’s struck out with Charlotte, and yet he keeps trying…”

“Your change was big news to him,” dad says softly. “People cope with the news in different ways- just look at Tom if you need any further proof.” I sigh as I remember my aloof oldest brother- though in truth, I’m not sure I know which reaction I prefer to my change, Tom’s or Danny’s.

“…I’ll go and put away my clothes,” I say, standing up and dragging my suitcase up the stairs to my bedroom. Once I’m unpacked, I collapse back on my bed with my smartphone in hand, scrolling through my twitter feed and all the tweets I’ve been sent by my 100 000+ followers. Every tweet I receive telling me what an inspiration I am, though, only makes me sigh sadly, and the sigh grows only deeper as I stare around at my pink, feminine surroundings. It would be so easy to just ‘decide’ to abandon my old male life. I would literally lose nothing from my personal or professional lives if I were to say goodbye to ‘Steve’ forever… And yet I just can’t let go of ‘him’.

After catching up on my twitter, I stretch my tired limbs before taking off my jumper and replacing it with a very flashy branded t-shirt, which I take a photo of for my Instagram. Such an ‘endorsement’ earns me several hundred pounds a time for mere seconds of effort- and I’m not sure whether that should make me happy or embarrassed, even though the other girls all have similar ‘deals’ in place (if all five of us ‘endorse’ the same thing at the same time- whether it’s clothes, make-up or even a gadget- it can earn us even more money).

Once I’m finished being a ‘walking billboard’, I strip off my t-shirt, my skirt and my tights and pull on my ‘party’ clothes for tonight- thick black tights, high-heeled knee-high boots and a short, long-sleeved lilac dress. Even since I started attending them seven months ago, the traditional Saturday ‘girls nights in’ have transformed into big weekly celebrity parties, not least because one of the ‘Angels’ is starring in this year’s series of Strictly Come Dancing, and doing really, really well to boot. Every week, there seems to be a new face at the party.

As I head downstairs to leave- taking extra care in my heels- I sigh as I see the figure at the bottom of the stairs and realise that there’ll be one more new face at tonight’s party.

“Hi sis!” Danny says happily, standing with his hands on his hips and a pout on his face.

“…What the fuck are you wearing?” I ask my brother, even though I can clearly see what he’s wearing- a knee-length black dress, black high-heeled shoes and a long brown wig. Other than the clothes and the wig, he’s made no attempt whatsoever to be convincingly female- he clearly hasn’t so much as shaved for the last 3 days.

“You said last time I came along on Saturdays that this was a girls’ night,” Danny shrugs as mum and dad chuckle in the living room. “Is- is this offensive?”

“Phenomenally offensive,” I say as I follow my ‘brother’ into the living room, sighing as he collapses down in a chair with his legs spread wide.

“Honestly,” Danny sighs as he kicks off his heels. “I don’t know how you can walk in these things…”

“I didn’t start by walking in 5 inch heels,” I retort. “And I never said they were strictly girls’ nights, just that they were intended as a way for all of the girls to get together once a week and hang out. They just started off as girls’ nights, that’s all.”

“Soo… Lose the dress?” Danny asks.

“There’ll be at least two other transgendered girls there besides me,” I say. “Yes. Lose the damned dress. Where’d you get that, and the shoes, anyway?”

“Every father’s proudest moment,” dad laughs. “His two male-born children talking about where they got their shoes…”

“Don’t worry,” Danny chuckles. “This is purely for fun, not a lifestyle choice… Umm, not that that should be a cause of worry, umm…”

“Change,” I say, sending Danny scurrying up to the spare room to change into a pair of black jeans and a thick, comfortable-looking shirt.

“The wig too,” mum orders, making Danny cringe as he peels the long, artificial hair off of his head.

“And I got them the same place you used to,” Danny says. “Online, it’s amazing how quick and easy it is, especially with Amazon Prime. So… Can I come along tonight?”

“…As long as you behave yourself this time,” I say. “And before you try hitting on my friends again, remember that a lot of them are my age, some even younger, and you’re 26.”

“Yes, yes, I promise no ‘Jimmy Saville’…” Danny sighs. “Want a lift?”

“Please,” I say, giving mum and dad goodbye hugs before following Danny out to his car.

“Steph, I- I am sorry about the whole ‘dress’ thing,” Danny mumbles as we drive away. “I thought you’d find it funny, I dunno. You always did when you were, you know, ‘Steve’…”

“I was trying to hide what I, well, ‘really was’,” I reply. “Figured if I joined in the laughter, it’d disguise me better…”

“Well, at least you’ve got nothing to hide anymore!” Danny laughs.

“Yeah,” I giggle. If only that were true, though…

I giggle as I open the door to Charlotte’s vast mansion only to come face-to-face with Becca and Adeola, who both greet me with big hugs even though I only last saw them a few hours ago.

“Hey Steph!” Becca squeaks excitedly. “Hey Danny… We didn’t scare you off enough last time, then?”

“I fear no woman,” Danny smugly replies, making me roll my eyes.

“Hands off, they’re BOTH taken,” I say, making Danny laugh as he hangs up our coats and heads into the party.

“LOVE that dress,” Adeola giggles. “Would love the boots too, if I didn’t already have at least five pairs!”

“You really are so fashionable,” Becca says. “Can’t believe you were EVER a boy…”

“Yeah, some days I can’t believe it either!” I giggle as we head into the already-bustling party. As the night wears on and I drink more and more alcohol, my stress levels start to fall, before disappearing entirely as I feel more and more comfortable in myself, despite my brother's 'enthusiasm'. Becca’s right- so what if I used to be a boy? I LOVE wearing women’s clothing. I’ve loved it ever since I was little, and the fact that I’m able to wear a short dress, dark tights and high-heeled boots in public (not to mention nail polish and a copious amount of make-up) is a cause for celebration, not stress. The fact that, earlier today, I got paid just for wearing a girl’s t-shirt for less than five minutes should make me want to never be a boy ever again.

…And yet, as I wake up on Sunday morning, my head stinging from a nasty hangover, all I can think about doing is pulling on a pair of boxer short, a pair of jeans and a loose t-shirt and collapsing on my sofa, eating pizza and chocolate and playing on my Xbox.

“Ugh, what is wrong with me…” I moan in my ‘Steve’ voice- a voice I rarely get to use any more. After showering and spending half an hour laid on my bed, forgetting about all worries of gender and fame, I slowly peel myself off my bed and pull on my underwear (including a new pair of brown patterned tights), before applying a full face of make-up and pulling on a comfortable pleated miniskirt and a long-sleeved brown top. Normally, even in ‘Stephanie’ mode, I wouldn’t be as dressed up as I am if I wasn’t leaving the house (which today, I’m not). Today, however, is different, so I still need to keep up appearances, as proved just after breakfast when my doorbell rings and I open it to be greeted by the same smiling faces who greeted me at Charlotte’s house last night.

“Hey girlies!” I squeak happily as I greet Becca and Adeola with hugs, before leading them (and their bulging carrier bags of clothes and make-up) into the living room.

“Hey Steph!” Becca giggles. “Hi Mrs. Abbott, thanks for letting us ‘invade’ your house today!”

“Any friend of Stephanie’s is a friend of mine!” Mum laughs happily. “’Steve’ hardly ever had friends over when he was younger. ‘Steve’ hardly had any friends at school, come to think about it…”

“Yes, thank you, mum,” I say in an increasingly exasperated voice as Becca and Adeola loudly giggle.

“I’ll leave you three to it,” mum says as she heads to the kitchen. “Play nice!”

“Ugh,” I spit as I turn back to my two friends. “Really wish I still had my own place…”

“Aww, your mum’s nice!” Adeola says. “She’s no more embarrassing than my aunt.”

“Aww, I remember the first time I went round to your place,” Becca says, making Adeola cringe.

“Go on,” I say with an evil grin.

“Oh god, please don’t…” Adeola giggles.

“Your mum breaking out all the photo albums,” Becca says as her BFF buries her face in one of my cushions. “Little Adeola aged 4 in her fairy costume, aged 9 dressed as one of the Incredibles, aged 13 dancing in her school’s production of the Nutcracker…”

“Aged 19 shutting your mouth!” Adeola retorts, making Becca giggle uncontrollably. “It’s not like your parents don’t have photo albums full of you dressed as- oh, what was it again? Belle from Beauty and the Beast? Kinda appropriate as Riley’s, like, a foot taller than you…”

“Seven inches taller,” Becca retorts. “How about you, Steph? Any embarrassing photos we can coo over while we’re here?”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “Though- and this’ll sound weird- I really kinda wish my parents did have photos of me aged 4 dressed in a fairy costume…”

“Oh- god, Steph, I’m sorry…” Becca sighs, giving me a quick hug. “God, your mum actually mentioned it less than two minutes ago and I still forget…”

“There are times when even I forget!” I giggle, even though I know what I’m saying isn’t true. Becca and Adeola, however, believe me without reservation and giggle along with me, proving my mum right- as ‘Steve’, I never really did have any friends, even when at school. I’d have ‘mates’, people I’d hang around with to watch football and play videogames, but we weren’t even remotely close. Hell, three years on and I can barely even remember their surnames, but in Becca and Adeola- and even Lauren and Kayla- I can tell that I have real friends for life, and that makes ‘being Stephanie’ so much more enjoyable. I don’t even feel any physical attraction to the two of them, even though they are objectively very, very attractive and I am still chemically 100% male- the only ‘love’ I feel for them is that of one best friend for another.

The three of us spend the next hour and a half swapping clothes, gossiping about our other friends and generally relaxing after a long week of being celebrities. We even spend a while playing on my Xbox, even though we play the latest Worms game (Becca’s all-time favourite game) instead of a game I like such as Destiny or FIFA.

By the time 3pm rolls around, and the three of us are full from my mum’s cooked Sunday lunch, I genuinely don’t want either of the girls to leave, even though I’ll be seeing them again tomorrow morning.

“We should probably get going,” Adeola sighs as she checks her phone. “My aunt will start worrying if I don’t call home… Thanks for the dinner, Mrs. Abbott!”

“You’re very welcome, Adeola!” Mum says with a warm smile. “Do you girls want dropping off anywhere?”

“Please,” Becca replies. “But before we go, we do need to talk about this Saturday…”

“This Saturday?” I ask. “Oh, Kayla’s party?”

“Yep!” Becca says excitedly. “It’s her eighteenth, the most important birthday of all, and it’s our responsibility to make it the most memorable day of her life!” Even though you don’t like her that much? I think to myself.

“I take it we’re inviting all the usual,” Adeola says. “Who were those two new girls last night, the dark-haired one and the one with the teal hair and, like, 2 inch waist?”

“Nikki’s friends, I think,” Becca replies. “Meh, the more the merrier! Steph, have you got Kayla’s boyfriend on Facebook?”

“Umm, I’m pretty sure I used to,” I say. “I’ll have a look tonight. Have you settled on a theme for the party?”

“Sexy, successful girly singers!” Becca says, making myself and Adeola giggle excitedly.

“So… No costume for us, then?” I ask, making the two girls giggle happily.

“We really should get going,” Adeola sighs, standing up and giving me a tight hug. “My place next Sunday?”

“You got it!” I giggle.

“Thanks for having us, Mrs. Abbott,” Becca says as she, mum and Adeola head out of the house, leaving me alone with my thoughts. As easy as it would be for me to become Stephanie full-time and ‘lose’ Steve, it would be just as easy for me to become ‘Steve’ again full-time… Though I’d stand to lose even more.

I head to bed early- just after 10pm- after spending the rest of the day chatting with the girls on Facebook about Kayla’s party. Before I fall asleep, I open up iTunes on my phones and check the album charts. I smile when I see ‘No More Lies’ in 16th place, even though that’s not quite as high as Joshua would have liked, it’s still a decent performance for a debut album.

When I wake up, the first thing I do is check the album charts again- and ‘No More Lies’ has moved up overnight into 12th position, bringing a smile to my face that starts to fade when I realise that the band’s tour of America may be going ahead after all…

After showering, I apply my make-up and don my normal Monday morning attire of baby pink tights and a tight black leotard, ready for my private ballet lesson. After tying my hair back into a ponytail, I pull a short denim skirt and long-sleeved black top on over my dancewear, before grabbing my dance bag and heading downstairs to where the taxi is already waiting to pick me up.

“Mornin’, darling,” the cabbie- a slightly overweight man in his mid-forties- says as I slide onto the back seat. “Hey, aren’t you Steph Abbott?”

“Umm, yep, that’s me!” I say with a smile.

“Thought I recognised the name!” The cabbie chuckles in his thick London accent. “I’ve got a 14 year old daughter who’s a huge fan of yours, she’s been listening to your album all weekend… Is it true that you used to be a bloke?”

“’Umm, ‘fraid so,” I reply with a grimace.

“Nah, nothing to apologise about,” the cabbie says. “It’s 2015, it’s just a fact of life that some people choose to switch their genders. If it makes you more comfortable being a woman, then that’s what you should be. Those UKIP dickheads who say that gays cause floods and earthquakes, they’re the ones who oughta be rounded up and exiled somewhere. Syria would be my first choice there!” I force out a giggle as the cabbie keeps chatting.

“There are worse things you can do with your genitals I suppose,” the cabbie laughs. “Shoving them in a dead pig, for starters, heh!”

“If you say so,” I reply.

“What I don’t get are the people who can’t decide what they are,” the cabbie says, making me shudder. “I mean, you’re either a man or a woman, right? And if you’re born on the wrong side, like you are, then you switch to the right one, right? You don’t just keep hopping backward and forward, or pick one of these so-called ‘non-binary’ options, right?”

“Right,” I reply, my voice tinged with nerves.

“The way I see it,” the cabbie continues, “men dress up as women for three reasons. One, they’re having a laugh; two, they get some sort of perverted kick out of it; three, they’d rather live their life as a woman. And you’re obviously in number three, number one’s basically harmless, and those who prefer number two, well, as long as they keep it to themselves, right?”

“Umm, I guess,” I say.

“You guess?” The cabbie replies. “Meh, I suppose you only hang out with other ‘number three’s. And you all take those hormone pills that shrink your genitals and turn you into a woman, right?” This cabbie really likes saying the word ‘genitals’, I quietly muse.

“Yeah,” I reply. “Kinda kills your sex drive.” Not that I had much of one to begin with…

“You’re probably better off without it,” the cabbie chuckles as we pull up outside the dance studio. “Your agency’s paid me in advance for this so there’s no charge to you, but can I ask a favour? Can you record a video message to my daughter? Her name’s Bethany.”

“Sure,” I say as the cabbie pulls out his smartphone and points it at me. “Hi Bethany, this is Steph from Out of Heaven, umm, thanks for buying our album, really hope you enjoy it! Bye!” I grin widely and wave as the cabbie lowers his phone and drive away, leaving me to enter the studio where my four friends are already waiting for us. I giggle when I see that Adeola has changed into a baby pink tutu and her pointe shoes and is dancing an excerpt of the Nutcracker, just as Becca had described yesterday morning.

“Misty Copeland, eat your heart out!” Adeola giggles as she finishes her routine.

“Where’s Krystie?” I ask, confused by the absence of our usual teacher.

“At the hospital,” Becca explains. “She’s fine, she’s just having a check-up after that throat infection she got last month, can’t be too careful with her asthma, etc. etc. So instead, you’ve got me and Addie teaching you today!”

“Umm, okay,” Lauren says, clearly unconvinced by our bandmates’ teaching ability.

“Don’t be like that,” Adeola giggles. “We’ve both been studying ballet for fifteen years, we can easily show you the basics. So, places, please!” I have a smile on my face as I take my place at the barre, but I can tell that Lauren and Kayla are far from happy about being taught by Becca and Adeola.

At the end of the lesson, however, our collective mood improves when we all open iTunes on our phone and discover that our album is still holding steady at 12th in the charts, and customer reviews so far are very positive, averaging 3.9 out of 5. The main criticism so far is a lack of variety in the songs, which was a deliberate design choice by our producer- opting to ‘play it safe’ for the first album rather than experiment too much with our sound. No doubt he’ll be challenging us more for inevitable second album!

After a quick coffee to celebrate our success, another fleet of taxis arrives to take us home (fortunately without an interrogation this time!), where I collapse on the sofa, still dressed in my dancewear, my skirt and my top. Yesterday, in the company of my friends, I’d have thought nothing of being dressed the way I am, but not that I’m all by myself, I suddenly feel… Absurd. I’m a nineteen year old man pretending to be a twelve year old girl, wearing ballet tights, a stretchy leotard and a short denim skirt, not to mention make-up and nail polish…

I close my eyes and take several deep breaths, reminding myself over and over that this IS my dream. This IS something I want, something I’ve always wanted… And yet I can’t shake the feeling that my life is fundamentally… Wrong. Like I’m living a fantasy, and it can’t last…

I head upstairs and slowly, methodically strip off my clothes- my top first, followed by my skirt, my leotard and my tights, leaving me stood in just my padded bra and tight thong. I don’t even wear a girdle any more, my waist has grown so slim thanks to my diet and exercise regime. I sigh as I unclip my bra and let it fall to the ground, before slowly sliding my thong down my legs and stepping out of it, standing fully naked in the cool air of my bedroom. After removing my dark nail polish with the strong-smelling solvent, I sit down- still naked- in front of my dresser and remove all of my make-up, until the only thing that stares back at me from my mirror is a plain, albeit effeminate, nineteen year old boy.

I reach into the back of my bottom drawer for a pair of loose, cotton boxer shorts and slide them up my legs, followed by a pair of baggy jeans and a loose-fitting red t-shirt. After scraping my hair out of my face, I stand before my full-length mirror and admire ‘Steve’s reflection for the first time in ages. And yet, as ‘free’ as I feel to once again be the boy I was, inside I feel… Empty. ‘Steve’ has no friends, no career, hardly any family… And no life. When other people think of me, they all inevitably think of Stephanie- even the people who knew Steve. And yet, no matter what, I simply can’t let go of ‘Steve’…

I perch on the end of my bed for half an hour, closing my eyes and absorbing the feelings provided by ‘Steve’s clothes- feelings of comfort, familiarity, warmth… Feelings of home, like I’ve returned from a long holiday and can finally relax. But still, deep down inside, I know that ‘Steve’ has nothing except these feelings of comfort.

After twenty minutes, I get up and start to head downstairs, when I’m surprised by a sudden knock from the door.

“Wh-who is it?” I ask in ‘Stephanie’s voice. They surely couldn’t be here to see ‘Steve’, as far as everyone’s concerned, ‘Steve’ no longer exists…

“It’s Jamie,” the person on my doorstep replies. Shit! I think to myself. Why did she have to drop round, couldn’t she have rung?

“Hang on,” I say. “I- I’ve just got out of the shower, let me get dressed…”

“Okay, but don’t take too long, it’s cold out here!” Jamie replies as I approach a state of panic. I hastily strip off ‘Steve’s clothes and stuff them under my mattress, before pulling on a clean bra and thong and the skirt and top I was wearing earlier. I catch a brief glance of my make-up free face in the mirror and grimace at how androgynous my face looks- Jamie’s sure to comment on it, but I did say I was just in the shower, so hopefully it won’t attract too many comments… Though the fact that I certainly don’t smell like I’ve been in the shower might attract comment, so before I answer the door, I lift my top and cover my torso in my sweet-smelling girl’s deodorant before skipping downstairs and answering the door, forcing a smile on my face to match the one on the face of my self-appointed ‘mentor’.

“Hey Steph!” Jamie giggles as she follows me into the living room. “Got the house to yourself this morning?” As if you didn’t already know… I think to myself.

“Yeah, mum and dad are both at work,” I reply. “Just been at ballet, figured I’d make the most of the morning off and relax…”

“Definitely recommend that, seeing how busy you’ll be with promotion for the next few days!” Jamie giggles as she smoothes her short skirt over her crossed legs.

“Why- why have you dropped round, anyway?” I ask, hoping not sound too confrontational. “Aren’t you supposed to be nursing your fiancé back to health?”

“Mmm,” Jamie giggles coyly. “He’s recovering just fine, he’s just about up to walking normally now. Can’t wait until he’s able to move around normally…” I keep my forced smile on my face as Jamie describes her relationship with Stuart. My own fleeting feelings for the now post-operative transman may have vanished a long time ago, but it still grates to hear Jamie boast of her ‘perfect life’ with him.

“Speaking of,” Jamie says, snapping me back to attention, “You just passed the nine month mark on HRT, didn’t you?”

“Umm, nearly,” I say, trying to remember the date I claimed I’d started taking oestrogen.

“You MUST be feeling the effects by now,” Jamie says. “I was nineteen when I started HRT, nine months on I felt like a completely different person. Not that I was much of a ‘person’ beforehand, heh.”

“Yeah, I’m really starting to feel the difference,” I say, hoping that Jamie doesn’t see through my obvious lie.

“Really?” Jamie asks. “Because up close, you don’t seem all that different physically…” I smile darkly as Jamie’s REAL reason for visiting me in person is revealed.

“Oestrogen affects different people in different ways,” I shrug. “Didn’t you say that your physical changes were really slow too?”

“A little,” Jamie retorts. “Nine months after starting HRT I got these done,” Jamie gestures at her small-ish, perky breasts, which I awkwardly glance at before my ‘mentor’ continues talking. “Word of advice: do NOT do that right now. You’ll be in and out of hospital for months, heh.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” I say, making Jamie giggle.

“I’d recommend ‘bottom’ SRS to anyone, though,” Jamie says. “You honestly have no idea how amazing it feels to be ‘complete’. Have you talked to Dr Phillips about it yet?”

“Umm, no, it’s a little early for it, isn’t it?” I ask.

“Meh, a little, I guess,” Jamie shrugs. “How’s planning coming for Kayla’s birthday on Saturday?”

“Good,” I say. “Becca’s taking the lead on that one.”

“Hmm, okay,” Jamie mutters. “It’s just that we’re probably going to record it for the next series of the Angels… I know you girls technically aren’t part of the ‘Angels’ but viewing figures for series 2 weren’t great, so we figure a bit of fresh blood should bump them up a bit!”

“Well, as I said, it’s your fiancé’s sister you should talk to there,” I reply.

“Well, okay,” Jamie says. “It’s just that when we hired you, Lauren and Kayla, it was partly because you got on so well at the auditions and interviews. You actually met Kayla before your first audition, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” I reply. “Think we were back-to-back.”

“You were definitely the same day,” Jamie replies. “Joshua’s main concern with putting a band together to be the ‘singing Angels’ was that they should naturally become friends rather than forcing them together, which can cause friction, which ISN’T good for business, etc. etc.”

“Doesn’t that include Becca and Adeola?” I ask.

“Well, yes, obviously,” Jamie retorts. “Meh, I guess as long as someone’s on top of it, it’s fine. So, what’ve you got planned for the rest of the day?”

“Relaxing!” I giggle. “Might watch some TV, play on my Xbox…”

“Well, if that’s your idea of ‘relaxing’,” Jamie giggles. “I have a much better afternoon planned, and you’re welcome to join me if you want… If that’s what you REALLY want…”

“Umm, what did you have planned?” I ask, making Jamie giggle excitedly.

Four hours later, I return home looking like the very picture of feminine beauty. Jamie’s ‘much better’ afternoon turned out to be a spa treatment and a makeover, meaning my body spent the whole afternoon being beautified in ways I never imagined. I had a deep tissue massage, an exfoliation treatment, a mud bath, a full facial treatment including an organic face mask, my eyebrows were reshaped, my nails shaped and polished and my make-up professionally applied. My hair was washed and re-washed and given countless nourishing treatments, leaving it looking rich and shiny. I started this afternoon wanting a chance to be ‘Steve’ even if it’s for just a little while, but I’m now more ‘Steph’ than I’ve ever been before. Even as I while away the evening playing on my Xbox, I feel more ‘Steph’ than ‘Steve’.

The following morning, I touch up my professional makeover as best I can before pulling a very chic short dress out of my wardrobe and pulling it on over my ‘enhanced’ figure. After pulling on a thin pair of black tights, I slip my feet into a pair of extra-high heeled platform stilettos, before giving my mum a kiss goodbye and jumping in the waiting taxi. As part of the album’s ‘publicity tour’ we’ve all been given individual interviews to maximise our exposure, so this morning I’m visiting the offices of one of the UK’s largest LGBT community websites. I barely take five steps into the reception area before I’ve had three copies of our album shoved in my face, which I happily sign for the excited fans. Six more autographs and four selfies later, I finally reach the small office where I’ll be interviewed.

“Hi, you must be Steph- well, obviously your Steph!” The interviewer, an attractive woman in her mid-thirties, says, greeting me with a loose handshake. “Do you mind being called ‘Steph’ or would you prefer ‘Stephanie’ or ‘Miss Abbott’?” Or ‘Steve’, or ‘Mr. Abbott’…

“Steph will be fine,” I say as I elegantly sit down in the plush chair.

“I’m Tracey,” the interviewer says as she sits down, smoothing her tight pencil skirt beneath her. “I’m sure you’re familiar with the whole interview ‘drill’ by now, I ask a few questions about the album, the band, you’ve probably done it in your sleep, hehe!”

“Yeah,” I chuckle.

“Before we start though, I LOVE those shoes!” Tracey gushes. “I’ve been looking for a pair like those for ages… Please tell me they’re affordable and from a website?”

“£200 and from Regent Street, I’m afraid,” I giggle as I playfully wiggle the expensive, painful footwear.

“Ah well,” Tracey shrugs. “When I started transitioning ten years ago they never made shoes like that, I’m happy with my ‘regular’ stilettos, though!”

“I- I’m sorry, ‘transitioning’?” I ask, confused by Tracey’s revelation.

“Yes, and thank you for not being able to tell!” Tracey laughs. “Started transitioning in 2004 when I was 23, SRS four years later, two years after that I married the guy of my dreams and last year we adopted a little girl called Ellie!”

“Um, congratulations!” I say, examining Tracey for any sign that she was ever male and finding nothing.

“I’ve got to tell you, breastfeeding is an AMAZING experience,” Tracey gushes. “I’d recommend it to anyone, I really would. Well- maybe not when you’re only nineteen, hehe! But that’s enough about me, we’re here to talk about you!” I giggle, but all of a sudden I’m a lot more nervous. I’m inevitably going to be asked questions about my transition- I always am- but this time I’m going to be asked them by a woman who’s been through the whole process herself, who’s had ‘the operation’ and is even a wife and a mother…

Sure enough, after fifteen minutes of questions about the album- all of which is being recorded as well for the website’s YouTube channel- the topic changes to one of a more personal nature.

“I understand you’ve only been transitioning for less than a year, is that correct?” Tracey asks, making me quietly gulp.

“Yeah,” I reply. “I started oestrogen just after my nineteenth birthday, haven’t really had any other treatments, no surgeries apart from laser hair removal.”

“How have you found it?” Tracey asks. “I know from personal experience that during the first year of HRT, you undergo some huge changes.”

“It’s been, um, challenging,” I say as I hastily recall all the information and testimonials I’ve read on transgender support websites and blogs. “My mood seems to go up and down a lot, some days are REALLY bad- you know, it’s hard just getting out of bed. Other days I’m on such a rush I can stay awake all night, only to crash again the following day.” I smirk as I realise that what I’m saying- about my volatile mood- really isn’t that far from the truth.

“But do you ever regret the decision to transition?” Tracey asks.

“Never, not for a second,” I lie. “You need to be true to whoever you are inside. If you need help, don’t be afraid to ask for it because it IS available. It’s not easy by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s worth the effort in the end to be who you truly want to be.”

“And last, but not least,” Tracey says with a wicked sparkle in her eyes, “your bandmate Adeola Benedict was recently seen out on more than one occasion with a very fit-looking young man. Is love also on the horizon for Steph?”

“No, no no no,” I giggle. “I’m not looking right now- things are complicated enough in my life, hehe! But if love were to find me, I wouldn’t say no to Mr. Right!” Tracey and I both giggle girlishly, before Tracey offers me her hand and we share another limp, feminine handshake.

“Stephanie Abbott, thank you for your time!” Tracey says.

“And… Cut,” the cameraman says as Tracey and I stand up and she leads me out of the office building.

“Sooo,” Tracey teases. “MISTER Right?”

“Huh?” I reply.

“Well,” Tracey says, “I’m a bit of an Angels enthusiast, I know your friend Nikki recently got engaged to another girl, I didn’t know whether or not you were, you know, ‘L’ like her. But you said ‘Mister’ Right, so…” I briefly pause as I replay the interview in my head only to realise, to my horror, that Tracey’s correct- I DID say ‘Mister’ Right.

“Well, um, ‘Miss’ Right would also be acceptable,” I mumble. “Provided she- or, I guess, he- is really, really, um, right…” I blush slightly as Tracey keeps giggling all the way to the office’s front entrance.

“Well, thanks for coming down,” Tracey says as we head out into the cool October air. “Hopefully we’ll see you back here soon!”

“I’d like that,” I say with a smile, though in truth, I’d be just as happy to never meet Tracey again. Sure, she’s a very nice, very friendly person, but that’s just the point- she’s a constant reminder that I’m neither of those things. She’s lived the life I’m pretending to live, undergone the stress and mental anguish of living as a gender she wasn’t, of coming out to her family, or trying to make a new life for herself in her new gender… She, and people like her, are the true role models, not frauds like me.

As if to hammer home the point even more, my phone rings within an hour of me arriving home- and the screen shows that the caller is the same woman who pestered me at my home yesterday.

“Hi Jamie!” I say down the phone in as enthusiastic a voice as I can manage.

“Hi Steph!” Jamie squeaks back. “Just thought you might want to know that your interview’s just gone live on their YouTube channel!”

“What- already?” I ask. “I only left there a couple of hours ago…”

“Welcome to the digital age, I guess!” Jamie giggles. “How did you find Tracey? She’s interviewed me a few times in the past, both before and after my SRS, she’s always very friendly.”

“Yeah, she’s cool,” I reply. “Did you know she and her husband adopted a daughter and she actually breastfeeds her?”

“Think I saw it on her twitter,” Jamie replies. “The adoption, that is, not the other thing! Anyway, I just called to say you came across really well in the interview. Your dress was a great choice- you’ve got a real eye for fashion.”

“Thanks,” I giggle nervously. “Umm, not that I’m ungrateful or anything, but you don’t normally call me after an interview…”

“Yeah,” Jamie concedes, “but after yesterday I was kinda worried you were feeling a little down, that’s why I took you for some pampering, and in the interview you did look a little, you know, ‘forced’…”

“Honestly, I’m okay,” I say. “Just a pretty heavy workload, that’s all.”

“Well, you’re getting paid to be a superstar,” Jamie laughs. “So suck it up and slap a smile on your face!”

“Will do,” I giggle, hopefully convincing Jamie.

“Also, before I go,” Jamie says with a playful tone to her voice, “I may have heard this before, but I never, you know, really realised that you were, you know, a heterosexual girl…”

“Ehh…” I grimace. “I’m more ‘hetero in name only’,” I reply. “I did also mention that I’m happily single and not looking, didn’t I?”

“You did indeed,” Jamie concedes. “But if you ever do start, you know, looking, let me know, I’m sure Sarah and her friends have, like, a hundred cute boys at their uni who’ll give their right arm for a date with a celebrity singer!”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I giggle.

“Got to go now,” Jamie sighs. “Got a recovering fiancé to fawn over, hehe! Talk to you soon, Steph.”

“You too, Jamie,” I reply before clicking off the phone. I don’t whether or not to believe Jamie when she says that she was ‘kinda worried’ about me, or whether she was using the interview as an excuse to check up on me again, but either way I’m happy that the conversation has ended and I can relax for the next couple of hours, before having to enter ‘celebrity mode’ yet again for a further two telephone interviews this evening- both of which thankfully go without a hitch, though the same personal questions are asked and the same rehearsed responses are given each time.

When I wake up the following morning, it’s actually a relief to pull on my pink tights and my black leotard ahead of my second ballet lesson of the week, as it’s a guarantee that for the next couple of hours, I’ll be out of the public eye. However, since the ‘group’ lesson for all the various ‘Angel’ groups was moved to a Wednesday, it also means that I won’t be able to escape the accusing eye of my ‘mentor’.

“Hey Steph!” Jamie says with a warm smile as I arrive at the dance studio and strip off the short black dress that I’d pulled on over my dancewear.

“Hey Jamie,” I giggle. “Can’t seem to get away from you nowadays!”

“Meh, I’ve just got a lot of time free,” Jamie shrugs. “Joshua’s booking me as little as possible so I can spend time with Stuart while he recovers… Unlike you, ‘Miss Media Darling’!”

“Ah, jealousy will get you every time,” I say, making Jamie laugh even harder.

“Meh, touché,” my mentor laughs. “I AM worried about you, though… Even though you knew what you were getting yourself into when you joined the band, it’s still a pretty heavy workload you’ve been landed with. Do you talk to Beverly about it?”

“A little,” I reply. “I’m actually going there today after ballet, I’ll have to make sure to bring it up then.”

“Cool,” Jamie replies. “Fancy some, you know, moral support?” I do a double take as Jamie makes her offer- that surely can’t be simple ‘concern’…

“Umm, thanks but no thanks,” I reply. “My sessions… They’re kinda like a sanctuary, you know? Even here I kinda have a ‘public face’ on, there… I can drop everything, be the real ‘me’…”

“I dunno,” Jamie muses. “I’d kinda like to meet the ‘real you’!” I’m sure you would, you sneaky cow…

“…Maybe some other time,” I say, making Jamie giggle as Krystie ties the hair of Jamie, me and our friend Nikki into tight buns before starting our lesson.

“Sorry I couldn’t make it on Monday,” Krystie announces to the class. “As much money as my body makes me, I really wish it was put together a bit better!”

“It’s okay,” Becca giggles. “I kinda liked being a teacher, reckon these three might be ready for pointe shoes soon…” I giggle at Becca’s joke, though my smile soon falls when I see Lauren and Kayla glare at the dark-haired girl.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Krystie retorts, making Becca giggle bashfully. “Okay, let’s get this started, don’t want to keep the uni girls from their books…” I smile as I take my place at the barre and begin my stretches and steps. Whilst I’m still far from the most graceful person in the world- and I still feel slightly ridiculous wearing skin-tight clothing in a room full of other women- ballet has greatly helped me with my posture over the last few months. I now have a naturally feminine walk (especially in heels), my body language is feminine, even when I sit down I keep my knees pressed together, just like a woman- though the shortness of my skirts may be the main reason for that.

Even as I change from my dancewear into a pair of black tights and my dress from earlier this morning, my ‘motions’ are feminine and elegant. Come to think of it, even when I pull on my jeans when I’m having ‘Steve time’, I do it in a feminine way…

“I’m thinking Becca may not be too far off the mark,” Krystie says as she comes skipping toward me. “You’ve really improved a lot in the last six months, reckon you’ll knock it out the park next week, when you start the rehearsals for your next video.”

“Hopefully your choreography won’t be TOO hard, though!” I retort, making Krystie laugh.

“I’m not giving you anything you can’t do,” our dance teacher replies. “Though if you do get pointe shoes before the end of 2016, I am going to HAVE to include that in a music video! All five of you en pointe at the same time… That’ll be a video that people won’t forget in a hurry!”

“That video of the six of us doing the Nutcracker for your 21st has got, like, millions of hits on YouTube,” Jamie says, making Krystie laugh. “Steph, you sure you don’t want ‘moral support’ when you go and see Beverly?”

“Positive,” I say.

“Sorry for eavesdropping,” Sarah- my counsellor’s daughter and one of our close friends- says. “Did you just say you were going to see my mum today?”

“Yeah,” I reply, grimacing at how my psychiatry appointments have suddenly become a topic for public debate. “I’m going there now, actually.”

“Oh, okay,” Sarah says. “Can you tell her I’ll be late home tonight? Me and Lauren- sorry, OUR Lauren- need to hit the books pretty hard…”

“Can’t you just call her and tell her?” I ask.

“I don’t know when she’s with a patient,” Sarah says, visibly taken aback by my response. “Don’t want to interrupt her…”

“Oh, um, sure, I can pass on the message,” I say, conscious that I don’t want to offend the young woman.

“Thanks Steph!” Sarah giggles, before skipping away.

“Any other messages anyone wants passing on?” I ask, making Jamie and Krystie snort with laughter.

“Oh, leave Sarah alone, she’s cool,” Krystie chuckles.

“And is designing my wedding dress!” Jamie giggles. “If she’s not too busy with uni work… And if I’m not too busy with uni work, hehe! How about you, Steph? Ever had any ambitions to be a college girl?”

“Eh, not really,” I say. “I hear Becca talk about it from time to time, but I figure I’d only want a degree to get a job, and I already have a job…”

“Take it from someone who’s been there, done that for the last two years,” Krystie laughs. “’Celebrity’ is a lifestyle, not just a job!”

“Says the woman who not only has a job, but did said job less than fifteen minutes ago!” Jamie giggles.

“This isn’t a job, it’s a hobby I get paid for!” Krystie retorts, sticking her tongue out at my ‘mentor’.

“Do you fill in a tax return?” Jamie asks. “Do you have a business name, business insurance, an accountant? Do you make several hundred pounds a week- net- from teaching ballet in this place?”

“…Yes to all of the above,” Krystie says, before breaking down in a fit of giggles. “Oh- sorry, Steph, here we are gabbing and you need to get away…”

“Last chance for some ‘moral support’!” Jamie says with an expectant smile.

“…Maybe some other time,” I say, making Jamie giggle as I leave the dance studio and jump in a waiting taxi, which speeds me on my way to the place that is rapidly becoming my only true ‘sanctuary’ in the world.

“Hi Stephanie,” Beverly says as I step through the door of her posh office.

“Sorry I’m a bit late, ballet overran a little,” I say. “Speaking of late, you daughter told me to tell you she’ll be late home tonight.”

“Ugh, I swear that girl has no idea how to use voicemail,” Beverly chuckles as I elegantly sit down in her soft, comfortable chair. “Sorry you got used as a carrier pigeon! Other than ferrying messages back and forth, how have things been over the past few days?”

“Good,” I say.

“Really?” Beverly asks.

“Well… Could be better, I guess,” I sigh. “Monday I had a ‘Steve’ session…”

“How did you feel once you were dressed in your old clothes?” Beverly asks.

“…Strange,” I say. “It felt right, but at the same time, it felt wrong, it’s like, I don’t know who the ‘real me’ is anymore, ‘Steve’ or ‘Steph’…”

“I’m not going to be able to answer that question for you,” Beverly says. “Only you can determine that, though this is of course nothing you haven’t heard a hundred times before.”

“It’s like ‘Steve’ isn’t real anymore,” I say.

“In a way, he isn’t,” Beverly advises. “Legally, your first name is now ‘Stephanie’. Your bank account is in that name, your passport is in that name, your income tax is paid in that name…”

“Thanks for the reminder,” I sigh.

“The point I’m trying to make,” Beverly says, “is that you’re not going through anything that any other transgendered person goes through- it’s natural to feel some sort of mourning for the former personality.”

“But I’m not transgendered,” I say.

“You have a diagnosis of gender dysphoria,” Beverly retorts. “You were born male, and yet you’re sitting here in front of me wearing a dress, tights, make-up, nail polish…”

“So why don’t I FEEL transgendered?” I moan.

“That’s a question we’ll have to explore together,” Beverly replies.

Once again, I leave the office an hour later, no closer to answering my questions of resolving my stress over who I truly am. I’ve been told that Beverly is one of the best specialists in the whole country when it comes to transgender issues, but I’m willing to bet even she has never had a case as frustrating as mine. I try to put all thoughts of stress out of my head as I jump into yet another taxi, which takes me straight to my next ‘appointment’. Even though I’ve only been on the go for a few hours, I’ve not had a chance to rest or relax, but I force a smile on my face as I step out of the taxi and into the brightly-coloured building housing my next appointment.

“Hi!” The girl at the front desk- who looks even younger than me- enthuses as I approach. “Miss Abbott, please, follow me!”

“Thanks,” I say, taken aback slightly by the girl’s enthusiasm.

“We’ve had the album playing all day,” the girl continues. “We were so excited when you agreed to do the interview with us, I mean, we are just a silly little student magazine…”

“It’s my pleasure, really,” I say, making the girl giggle.

“We actually asked for all five of you,” the girl says. “But you were always our first choice!”

“Thanks,” I repeat.

“After the interview,” the girl asks nervously, “would, umm, would you- would you mind signing a few autographs?”

“Sure,” I say, making the girl giggle excitedly even as I grimace at the realisation that I’m giving one word answers to what she’s saying. “Sorry, just didn’t get much sleep last night, umm, can- can I use your toilet, please?”

“Sure,” the girl says. “Just follow me…” I nod and smile as the girl leads me to the college’s ladies’ restroom.

“Umm,” I say, pausing before entering the brightly-lit room. “Do- do you have a disabled toilet?”

“Oh, whatever, it’s a girls’ toilet, you’re a girl, right?” My ‘escort’ says with a shrug.

“Right,” I giggle as I enter one of the cubicles. It’s hardly the first time I’ve ever used an actual ladies’ toilet, but I’ve become so used to using the disabled facilities that the thought of going into a ladies’ toilet as though it were normal is a strange one… But the thought of going into a men’s toilet is simply unthinkable. Even in ‘Steve’ mode I sit down to pee, and have done since I was sixteen in an effort to add just a little bit of femininity to my everyday life… Is Beverly right? Could I somehow be truly transgendered without even noticing?

After I ‘finish’, making sure to thoroughly wash my hands afterwards with the sweet-smelling soap provided, I head into the small room where I’m interviewed by another girl who looks barely older than sixteen. After twenty minutes of the usual questions and the usual answers, I follow my interviewer into the college’s dining hall, where I spend the next half hour signing autographs and posing for selfies. My ‘escort’ makes a point of introducing me to two young women, both of whom are transitioning from male to female. I spend a nerve-wracking five minutes talking to them about my ‘transition’, giving them details of things that haven’t happened and listening to their stories, before I’m finally allowed to leave the college and head home.

As I sit down in the taxi, though, I remember the smiles on the faces of the girls I met today, especially the two transgendered girls, and a smile slowly starts to creep over my own face as I realise that for them, meeting me almost certainly meant more to them than to the other girls. Regardless of how I personally feel, they see me as a role model- someone who, like them, is living as the opposite gender to the one they were born into, and making a success out of their life. By seeing me succeed, it makes them believe that they can as well, that their ‘status’ isn’t a barrier to them leading a fulfilling life… I give them confidence, in much the same way Jamie gave me confidence when I first auditioned for the band… If I walk away from ‘Stephanie’, I risk shattering that confidence, but at the same time, if I walk away from ‘Steve’, it’ll shatter MY confidence.

I collapse hard on the sofa as I return home, glad that I’ve only been booked in for one interview today. A quick look at the clock tells me that mum and dad won’t be back for another three hours, meaning I have the house all to myself until then. If I wanted, I could have some ‘Steve’ time right now… But all I want to do is relax, and after my unexpected visit from Jamie on Monday, if I took ‘Steve’ time, I’d be constantly ‘looking over my shoulder’, worried that someone might come home and I’d have some awkward questions to answer, but if I stay in my dress and my tights, no one would even blink as it’d be nothing out of the ordinary. And it’s not like the clothes are uncomfortable- quite the opposite, in fact…

I take advantage of my lazy evening by relaxing on the sofa until late into the evening, allowing the stress to leave my body as I watch TV with my parents. As predicted, not a single comment is made about my appearance by either of my parents, even with most of my nylon-covered legs, my expertly made-up face and my professionally manicured nails on display for the whole evening. The total ‘indifference’ of my parents causes me to relax so much that by the time I head to bed and peel off my tights, the revelation that I’ve had them on for over twelve hours and only barely noticed them all day causes me to pause with shock. The sight and feel of my legs in tights- something that would previously cause my heart to flutter with excitement- is now so ordinary I barely even notice when it happens for well over half a day. It’s as if women’s clothing has become such a part of my life that it no longer has any ‘pull’ over me.

…Unlike the folded t-shirts and pairs of jeans at the back of my drawer that I stare at with the same longing with which I used to stare at my collection of skirts and dresses- a collection that used to live in the very same drawer. I let out a long sigh, before closing the drawer, pulling on my light, frilly nightie and climbing into bed.

Thursday's 'work' consists of much the same as every other day this week- being asked the same questions about our album and giving the same answers- though thankfully this time we're being interviewed as a group. Our 'destination' for today is This Morning- the same TV show where we made our 'debut' a few months ago, but what feels like a whole other lifetime. Back then, all five of us were nervous, inexperienced girls- now we're seasoned media veterans, and are more 'women' than 'girls'. Even I'm more 'woman' than 'girl' nowadays, and certainly much more 'woman' than either 'man' or 'boy'...

"Come on..." Becca moans as she switches her phone back on, having changed from her 'TV' dress back into a comfortable black skirt and patterned top.

"Desperate to see Riley's latest text?" I ask the brown-haired girl, who sticks her tongue out at me.

"Desperate to see the charts!" Becca replies. "I didn't get the chance on the taxi over here..."

"We were eighth before I went to bed last night," Lauren says. "God, I really hope we crack the top five..."

"How many sales do we need before we get a silver disc?" I ask, making the other four girls giggle.

"Bit early to be worrying about that!" Adeola chuckles. "But for the record, it's 60K. 100K is gold, 300K is platinum."

"If I get a silver record," Becca giggles, "I swear I will spend the rest of my life polishing it. Aah!" Adeola, Lauren, Kayla and I all jump as Becca startles us with a high-pitched wail.

"What? What is it?" Lauren asks. "Are we top five?"

"Fifth!" Becca squeaks excitedly. "We're fifth!" My jaw drops at the news- a position of fifth means that we're on course to sell over twenty thousand copies of our album within the first week of it being on sale, an incredible achievement for our debut.

"This is so awesome!" Kayla gasps as she reads the information from Becca's screen. "We should go out somewhere, you know, somewhere special for lunch, to celebrate!"

"Ah, I'd love to," Becca grimaces. "Kinda already made plans, though..." Becca's eyes roll as her phone bleeps with a new text message notification. "...And that would be 'Mr. Plans' right now! Maybe tomorrow, after the signing?"

"Okay, sure," Kayla shrugs.

"Well, I'm free for lunch," Lauren says with a smile. "Shall we call it a double-header?"

"Sure!" Kayla says with a giggle as she and Lauren leave the dressing room, leaving me, Becca and Adeola by ourselves.

"Charming," I say as I carefully fold away my dress and pull on the knee-length pencil skirt I'd worn to the studio.

"It's particularly charming as we're going shopping for her birthday party on Saturday," Adeola snorts.

"You know," Becca says. "We don't need three people to do the shopping, so if you wanted to go after them, you could. It'd be a good chance for you three to catch up, talking about things..."

"...And let slip you're planning a huge party?" I ask, making Becca grin.

"Who says you're not a REAL girl?" Becca giggles. "Now go, go! Don't let them get too far away!" I giggle as I leave the dressing room, quickly catching up to the two girls.

"Hey girlies!" I say, momentarily startling Lauren and Kayla. "I'm free and in a mood to celebrate, want to make it a triple-header?" I pause, internally grimacing as Lauren and Kayla consider my request. Whilst my relationship with them hasn't been destroyed as such, it has been a while since we last hung out together...

"Sure," Lauren shrugs. "The stepsisters too busy for you, then?" I bite my tongue as I want to tell Kayla about the party immediately and defuse the tension, but I know that there's bound to be a better time to do that.

"They don't tell me who I can and can't hang out with," I retort. "Besides, it's been ages since we last went anywhere, just the three of us..."

"Meh, if you want," Lauren says. I force a smile on my face as I follow the two young women out to our waiting taxi, even though I know the lunch will be awkward, especially since Lauren's gradual 'demotion' from being the 'face' of the band in the eyes of the press. She still gets plenty of individual coverage, and even sang the national anthem before the Scotland vs America World Cup match last month, but it's obvious that she's not happy at us other girls taking back some of what she sees as her limelight.

The lunch passes as awkwardly as I'd predicted, with Lauren and Kayla constantly talking about their boyfriends and gossiping about Becca and Adeola, despite the danger of someone overhearing us in what is a very public restaurant and leaking news of our 'lack of cohesion' to the press. Even as we gossip like old friends, however, it's clear that to Lauren and Kayla, the band is still very much 'us' and 'them' rather than just 'us', so as we go to leave the restaurant, I play my trump card.

"You know," I say with a coy smile, "it really is a shame Becca and Adeola couldn't join us for lunch."

"What, so they could lord over the three of us as usual?" Lauren spits.

"Only when they're not too busy planning a massive, fancy party for Kayla on Saturday," I shrug, making Kayla's jaw drop.

"Wh-what?" The tiny blonde girl asks. "I- I thought Jamie and Charlotte were planning that, as always?"

"Nope," I say smugly. "Becca and Adeola are doing it all themselves. Well, with a tiny bit of help from me."

"That- that's so cool!" Kayla squeaks, before sighing. "Kinda wish I hadn't been so nasty about them now..."

"They're probably only doing it to get onto your good side," Lauren says.

"Well, it's working!" Kayla giggles as the two girls head to their taxi whilst I get into mine. With all the stress in my life right now, the other four girls being at loggerheads is a worry I can live without, so if this party can help to ease that tension, it's very welcome. Assuming Lauren will allow Kayla to grow closer to Becca and Adeola, of course...

My fears are allayed the following day, however, when the five of us travel to the HMV on Oxford Street to sign copies of our CD, and all of us have wide, obviously genuine smiles on our faces. Kayla's demeanour couldn't make it any more obvious that she knows about Becca & Adeola's plans, and the two dark-haired girls very obviously know that she knows, and Kayla knows that they know that she knows... But none of them care. Even Lauren seems happy despite not being the centre of attention, and I'm definitely relieved that the tension that's plagued the band since day one finally seems to be disappearing.

Eventually, after signing enough autographs to make my wrist sore for weeks, the five of us are escorted out of the store and into the band's converted minibus, still wearing our fancy short dresses, extra-high stilettos and excessive make-up. Even though we're all tired, the fact that there were so many people there just to see us leaves us exhilarated, eager to get back to work and produce more music for our fans.

"Okay," Becca says once we all get our breath back. "How about now, we go somewhere special for lunch, to celebrate the fact that all five of us are sexy, successful and super-famous?"

"Sounds amazing," Lauren sighs. "But I am absolutely knackered and I'd give just anything to get out of this dress and these shoes and into a comfy pair of jeans..."

"Yeah... You're not alone there!" I tiredly say, internally grimacing as I realise exactly what it is I just said.

"By 'jeans' I hope you two mean 'girly hipsters'?" Adeola teases.

"Are there any other kind of jeans?" I ask, making the other four girls giggle, much to my relief.

"How about," Becca says, "we all go back to your flat, order take-out and watch Netflix for the rest of the evening?"

"What about girls' night out?" I ask, even though Becca's plan sounds like the best thing I've heard all week.

"Not all of us can go, so it wouldn't be fair," Becca shrugs. "Even though it is Kayla's fault for being seventeen years and 364 days old."

"Blame my parents for not inducing earlier," Kayla retorts, making Becca giggle.

"Next Friday, though, next Friday is going to be EPIC, you have my word!" Becca says, making all of us giggle yet again.

"Alright then," Adeola says. "We three saddos will go home to our parents' homes and change, and meet you at your place in an hour?"

"You're not saddos for still living with your parents," Lauren shrugs. "God knows my parents still think I should move back with them and commute 600 miles each day!"

"Ah, the joys of being the youngest," I say, making Lauren giggle.

"It's a date," Becca says. "See you there in an hour. And I am NOT a saddo!"

"Oh, like you haven't said the exact same thing a million times before!" Adeola retorts, making all of us giggle as we're dropped off at our respective homes, before the minibus returns and collects Becca, Adeola and myself and drops us off at the flat that used to be my home for many months.

"Is this weird?" Adeola asks as we enter the posh apartment. "I mean, it IS your former home, right?"

"A little," I shrug. "Kinda miss my independence... You two never thought about moving in together?"

"Sometimes," Becca shrugs. "Doubt my dad would cope well, especially since he's now retired."

"Oh whatever," Adeola says. "He's got that nephew of yours to play with, hasn't he?"

"Yeah, I guess," Becca sighs. "How about we look into this in the new year? The three of us, getting a place together?"

"Whoa, what?" I ask. "I'm going to be living with you too?"

"You're the one who said 'I miss my independence'!" Becca giggles. "And besides, I can hardly swap clothes with Miss six-foot amazon, can I?"

"Five foot nine and size ten, thank you very much," Adeola retorts, making me and Becca laugh as we crash on the sofa, glasses of wine in our hands, comfortable thick tights and denim skirts covering our legs and a bevy of shows to choose from on the big-screen TV.

Becca, Adeola and I remain at the apartment until after 10pm, gossiping about our family and (where applicable) our boyfriends. To my surprise and delight, Becca and Adeola make no effort to dominate the conversation, listening intently to everything Lauren, Kayla and I have to say and only talking when it's their turn. As I leave the apartment, I feel more a part of the band than ever.

And yet, when I arrive home, I stare longingly at the jeans in the back of my drawer- the jeans I nearly wore instead of the skirt currently hanging from my waist- and I know that as long as my 'conflict' continues, I'll never truly be 'one of the girls'.

I wake up the following morning and am relieved to finally have a day free from work. After sending a quick 'happy birthday' text to Kayla, I shower and apply my make-up, before pulling on a pair of black tights, a short black skirt and a long-sleeved red top. After selecting a dress and a pair of suicidally high heels for tonight's party, I head downstairs and crash on the sofa, making dad chuckle at my fatigue.

"Thought singers did all their work at the weekend," dad snorts.

"Joshua doesn't like making people work on their birthdays," I retort. "We'll be back at it tomorrow, though, and two more interviews on Monday..."

"Well, enjoy your fame while it lasts," dad advises. "Because it won't last forever! Speaking of birthdays, it's your birthday in a few months, and Christmas a few weeks before that. Just struck me that this'll be 'Stephanie's first ever Christmas and birthday... Put any thought into what you want, yet?" Peace on Earth, goodwill toward mankind and a resolution to my fucking stress, please, I sarcastically think to myself.

"...Not really," I reply. "I'll get back to you when I think of something."

"Well we're already getting in small stuff," dad says. "It's exciting, you know? For me and your mother, normally for small Christmas presents we get three of everything and give them to you and your brothers- Lynx sets, shaving kits, bundles of pants and socks... Guess we're going to have to be a bit more 'adventurous' this year!"

"Yep!" I reply, even though there's a very large part of me that's longing for the presents that dad just described. Any further conversation is prevented, however, when a knock comes from our front door.

"That'll be Becca," I sigh. "I probably won't be back before you guys go out..."

"We're both at work from 8pm, so I should hope not!" Dad chuckles. "You have fun tonight, don't drink too much, and don't end up in bed with any random men!" Fat chance... I think to myself.

"No promises," I retort, making dad chuckle as I grab my party outfit and follow Becca out to the minibus.

Eight hours later- after helping Becca and Adeola set up for the party- I use one of the mansion's spare rooms to change into the slinky dark red dress and uncomfortable shoes, before heading downstairs to where the party is just getting started. Unsurprisingly, the guest of honour is one of the first to arrive, and is greeted with big hugs from Becca, Adeola and myself.

"Happy birthday, miss finally-an-adult!" Becca giggles as Kayla laughs excitedly. "Even though you still look only twelve!"

"Yeah, well this still-looks-only-twelve year old can finally get HAMMERED!" Kayla laughs, taking a glass of champagne from a nearby tray

"Take it easy, you've got Friday night for that!" Lauren laughs.

"Plus your mother's coming to the party tonight," Adeola laughs. "Trust me- you do NOT want to go there!" Kayla giggles excitedly as she leads the four of us into the large main room, where the party eventually gets into full swing, with Joshua announcing the sales figures for the album (18 000 copies in one week- a decent amount for a debut album) and Kayla's mum making a speech that deeply embarrasses the blonde girl. As the party wears on, however, I can't help but notice that the birthday girl looking more and more distant, before eventually heading out of the party room and into the adjoining kitchen, where I find her staring at her half-empty glass of champagne.

"Hey," I whisper to the depressed-looking girl. "You- you okay?"

"Alcohol sucks," Kayla sighs. "It tastes horrible and I feel horrible."

"How many glasses have you had?" I ask, before shaking my head. "Never mind, you weigh, like, three stone and your system's not used to it... Is the booze really all that's up?"

"No," Kayla says, letting out an even longer sigh. "Steph, I- I can't do this anymore..."

"Can't do what?" I ask.

"This!" Kayla shouts. "This whole thing, the dresses, the press... I always thought for my eighteenth I'd be out somewhere celebrating with my friends, not being filmed for some reality TV show... None of my friends are even here..."

"We're here," I say, sitting down next to Kayla. "We're your friends. We care about you, we really do."

"None of my friends from Southampton came," Kayla moans.

"Did you invite them?" I ask.

"A couple," Kayla sighs. "I've barely even spoken to them since I moved to London, I've been so busy."

"What about your boyfriend?" I ask. "Has he got here yet?" Much to my surprise and dismay, Kayla immediately breaks down in floods of tears, causing me to awkwardly reach forward and give her a gentle hug.

"We split up weeks ago," Kayla wails.

"I- I thought you were talking about him just last night..." I say.

"I didn't want to seem like a loser," Kayla moans. "In front of you and the other girls... He dumped me, said he was 'intimidated by my fame' but a few weeks later I saw him out with one of my other friends in Southampton..."

"Oh, that really, really sucks," I say, hugging Kayla yet again. "You deserve better than that arsehole anyway."

"It's like," Kayla continues, "I've been looking forward to today for ages but now that it's here, I realise that the only thing I've got in my life is this band..."

"I know how you feel," I sigh.

"Really, Steph?" Kayla asks. "Do you really know how it feels to completely abandon your comfort zone and live every day pretending to be something you don't really want to be, when all you want to do is just run home and curl up in bed and forget about the whole thing?" I look into Kayla's eyes and try to think of a response beyond the obvious, truthful one, but the sheer look of anger in Kayla's eyes tells me that the truth is the only response that will do in this case, regardless of the consequences.

"Yes, Kayla," I say. "Yes I do know how it feels."

"How?" Kayla sighs sarcastically.

"Because I'm not transsexual," I say, making Kayla's face screw up in confusion.

"Umm, what?" Kayla asks.

"I- I'm not transsexual," I repeat, my whole body shaking as I make my 'confession'.

"No, wait, let me get this straight," Kayla says. "You- you were born male, right?"

"Right," I say.

"But you're wearing a dress, make-up and heels, right?" Kayla asks.

"Right," I repeat.

"And you live life as a woman?" Kayla asks.

"Again, right," I say.

"And you're taking hormones to turn you into a woman, right?" Kayla asks.

"Wrong," I say, making Kayla's jaw drop. "I- I never have. When I auditioned for the band, when we met, that first day... That was the first time I'd ever even worn women's clothes for more than an hour at a time."

"But- but-" Kayla stutters.

"I'd been unemployed for months," I say. "I'd always loved dressing up as a woman, I wanted to see if I could pass as a woman... I never for once imagined that it'd lead to this."

"So- so you've been lying to everyone this whole time?" Kayla asks.

"...Not fully," I say. "As time wore on, I grew to love living life as a woman, but... I always have this nagging feeling in the back of my mind, I always miss being a man."

"So- so what are you really?" Kayla asks. "A man or a woman?"

"What are you really?" I retort. "A national celebrity or a lost teenaged girl living away from home?" Kayla shoots me a truly evil stare, before closing her eyes and sighing.

"...Both," Kayla moans.

"So am I," I sigh. "You're the first person I've told this, well, apart from my counsellor. If Joshua found out, or Jamie..."

"I won't tell, I promise," Kayla says. "You- you must really trust me to have told me this."

"As I said," I reply with a smile, "you're my friend. And you told me something confidential, seems only fair to return the favour."

"If- if you had to choose," Kayla says, before pausing as I hold up my hand.

"I already know what you're going to ask<" I say. "And the truth is: I don't know. Male, female... Both have their pros, both have their cons. I'd be lying, though, if I said that being in the band WASN'T the biggest 'pro' of being a woman."

"So you don't want to leave the band?" Kayla asks.

"Never," I say. "These few months have been some of the best of my life... Just a shame they've also been some of the most stressful."

"I couldn't agree with you more," Kayla laughs. "Thank you."

"For what?" I ask.

"For showing me what a true friend is," Kayla says, before leaning in and giving me a soft kiss on the cheek. "Come on, people will start to wonder about us..." I smile as I follow Kayla back out into the party, where she starts mingling more with the guests and having a much better time- as do I.

I didn't go into the party expecting to find a new 'confidante', but I'm glad I'll be leaving it closer to Kayla than I've ever been. The fact that she would unquestioningly keep my secret shows just what a good friend she is- a friend much better than any 'Steve' ever had.

I'm no closer to making my 'ultimate decision'- but at least I'll have the support of one friend, regardless of what I choose. Someday, I may even be able to trust more people with my secret. I may even be able to trust people like Jamie with it, but for now, I have at least got rid of some of the stress the secret has been causing. Today, my future seems just a tiny bit less uncertain.

“You don’t lie to me,” I sing in my low, sultry voice.

“You don’t lie to me,” Lauren repeats in her own rich singing voice.

“You don’t lie to me,” Kayla sings with a devilish look in her eyes.

“You don’t lie to me…” Adeola sings as we all so a single turn before we all throw our arms in the air.

“No more lies!” The five of us sing in unison, earning a thunderous rounds of applause from our producer Stuart and our choreographer Krystie.

“BRILLIANT,” Krystie giggles. “Choreography was spot on, well done, girls.”

“It was also really basic,” Becca argues, making myself, Lauren and Kayla giggle and roll our eyes. “Okay, fine…” My giggle grows louder as Becca and Adeola join in the laughter. Over the past three months, the five of us have grown closer and closer to the point that we’re more than comfortable with teasing each other the way we’d just teased Becca. To all intents and purposes we are the cohesive, Angel-like group that we’re presented to the public as- the best of best friends, sharing everything with each other, keeping no secrets from each other, no lies… Except one.

“Comfy?” Kayla asks as I strip off the black leggings and black leotard I (and the other four girls) had worn during our rehearsal.

“SO comfy,” I say, making Kayla giggle as I bend over, exposing my skin-tight black thong before it’s covered by a pair of sheer black tights and a tight black miniskirt.

“Really?” Kayla asks. “Sure you wouldn’t prefer a pair of boxer shorts and a pair of baggy jeans?”

“…Not today,” I reply with a smile, before clipping my padded bra behind my back and pulling on a silky camisole, followed by my favourite red turtleneck sweater.

“Glad to hear it,” Kayla laughs as she pulls on her own long-sleeved, dusky pink minidress. “No offence, but as you know, I much prefer ‘Steph’ to ‘Steve’!”

“I won’t tell ‘him’ if you don’t,” I say with a wink, before the two of us giggle as the remaining three members of the band enter the changing room and strip off their leotards and leggings.

“Share the joke,” Lauren says, which only makes Kayla and myself giggle even harder. Fortunately, the Scottish girl simply rolls her eyes and giggles before changing back into the same knee-length dark blue dress she’d worn to rehearsal. “Good rehearsal today.”

“Yeah,” Becca says happily. “We are going to knock this tour out of the park!”

“Yeah!” I laugh as nerves creep into my body at the mere mention of the upcoming tour.

“And here you were, Steph,” Adeola giggles. “Thinking that ‘you know what’ meant you wouldn’t be able to keep up with us ‘birth’ girls, us ‘lucky’ girls.”

“Oestrogen rocks!” I shrug.

“Oestrogen rocks!” The other four girls all cheer, making me giggle uncontrollably, though my giggles subside as my eyes make contact with Kayla’s sympathy-filled stare.

Ever since I revealed myself (figuratively speaking, of course) to Kayla at her birthday party three months ago, the two of us have grown closer and closer. She’s someone to whom I can bare my soul, someone to whom I can be 100% truthful about everything in my life- such as the fact that I haven’t taken a single drop of oestrogen in the eleven months since I supposedly became ‘Stephanie’. The rest of the band still think I’m fully transitioning, as do my management, my family, and our ever-growing legion of fans… Many of whom are themselves transgendered and still look up to me as a role model, proof that you don’t need to have been born a girl to be in a successful girl band. And whilst I have technically proven that point, I still can’t help but feel like a fraud every time I’m interviewed about my supposed ‘status’.

I still see Dr Phillips- my counsellor- on a weekly basis, who is a great help in dealing with my stress and anxiety, but probably the biggest help has been the fact that, ever since moving back home, I have had more and more time available to me to become ‘Steve’ on a regular basis, sometimes as many as five times a week. Whilst these ‘sessions’ rarely last more than a few hours, they’re enough to give me the escape I need, especially as, when I become Stephanie again, I’ll know that ‘Steve’ will always be waiting for me whenever I need him.

Tonight, however, ‘Steve’ is going to have to stay in his drawer, as tonight is a Friday, which means that as always, I descend the stairs in my home just after 8:30pm wearing a face full of thick make-up, a cloud of sweet-smelling perfume, a tiny black dress, light fishnet tights and sky-high platform stilettos.

“You take care,” mum urges as I head out of the door and into a waiting taxi. “And enjoy your last day of teenaged life!”

“I will,” I say with a giggle, relishing the feelings generated by my tight, feminine clothing, clothing which, upon my arrival at the club, is ‘accessorised’ with a shiny red & pink sash that reads ‘birthday girl’ and has had several shiny gold stickers with the number ‘20’ stuck to it.

“Happy birthday!” The other members of the band- along with several other familiar faces, including my friends Nikki, Sarah and Krystie- all yell as I step into the club’s posh VIP area, before thrusting a glass of champagne into my immaculately-manicured hands and resting a silver tiara on my glossy brown hair.

“Oh my god, you guys!” I squeak. “My birthday isn’t until tomorrow…”

“Yeah, well we can’t wait that long!” Adeola giggles.

“And we’re CERTAINLY not waiting another six days for your girly birthday night out!” Becca laughs, guiding me to a plush leather seat where I pose for photos for the various girls (and for the club itself, who will undoubtedly use the image for publicity). One girl- or rather, woman- who doesn’t photograph me, however, is my so-called ‘mentor’ Jamie.

“Happy birthday!” Jamie laughs, giving me a hug as she flashes an obviously bogus smile. “Would I be right if I guessed that it’s not just your twentieth birthday tomorrow, but also your first?”

“My first?” I ask.

“Your first birthday as Stephanie!” Jamie giggles. “And, of course, your first birthday as a superstar!”

“Yeah,” I laugh, finally catching on to the transwoman’s line of thinking. Last January, for my nineteenth birthday, my parents got me a new pair of jeans, a new videogame and the complete series of Dexter on DVD, while my brothers each got me a crate of beer- all gifts I enjoyed greatly. This year, I’ll undoubtedly get a new dress, a spa day and the complete series of Sex and the City on DVD, while my brothers will probably get me bottles of perfume, like they did at Christmas. And whilst these gifts are appealing, I still yearn for the jeans, the videogame and the beer.

“My twentieth was my first birthday as Jamie-Lee,” Jamie explains. “Charlotte spoiled the SHIT out of me that day! We went to a club dressed as schoolgirls and I found myself face to crotch with a HUGE… Stripper, hehe!”

“Did someone say ‘stripper’?” Adeola asks, bouncing over to our conversation. “Don’t worry, Steph, tomorrow will be strictly stripper-free!”

“Aww,” Jamie laughs.

“You’re engaged!” I remind the blonde woman, who simply shrugs.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t look,” Jamie says as she sips her champagne. “Doesn’t mean you can, either! Take a look out there, Steph, a whole club full of hot, young men… Any of them take your fancy?” Not a single one of them, I think to myself.

“…Pass,” I say with a giggle.

“Don’t bother wasting your time, Jamie,” Adeola giggles. “Bex and I have been trying to get Steph laid for MONTHS, I swear this girl is, like, allergic to sex!”

“Ugh, lucky her,” Jamie spits. “But is there seriously no one out there who you like the look of? You know you can have any guy you want?”

“You know oestrogen kills your sex drive,” I say, making Jamie giggle. In truth, sex is the last thing on my mind right now, especially with a man… Even before I became Stephanie full-time, I never had any fantasies of any ‘encounters’ with men, and the same still applies, despite Becca and Adeola’s best efforts. They’ll set me up on a date with a guy they reckon I’ll like, I’ll put on my best make-up and my best dress and go on these dates, but none of the men they’ve recommended have ever got a second date. I chuckle internally as I remember that the only male-gendered person I’ve ever had any ‘feelings’ for was originally born female- and is currently engaged to be married to Jamie.

Despite my protests, I spend the majority of the evening on the dancefloor dancing with several young men who I’m sure the other girls find attractive, but toward whom I feel no attraction whatsoever (which is probably for the best, considering the ‘control’ thong I’m wearing). I- and the rest of the girls- leave the club just after 1:30am feeling utterly exhausted, and by the time I arrive home I barely have enough strength to remove my make-up before collapsing on my bed, dressed in just my underwear.

Even though I didn’t have much to drink, my head’s still pounding when I wake up on Saturday morning, though I quickly discover that this is less due to alcohol and more due to the portable CD player in the hands of my father, who is stood at the foot of my bed (tunelessly) singing along to ‘No More Lies’ and substituting the words ‘Happy Birthday’ everywhere the song’s title should be.

“Mmph,” I quietly moan as I pull my sheets over my head.

“Rise and shine, birthday girl!” Dad laughs.

“Do I have to?” I sigh.

“YES!” Dad laughs. “Your mum will be home from work in a couple of minutes, get up, get showered, get your make-up on and get downstairs, there’s a sofa full of presents waiting for you. Oh, and your brother too.”

“Happy birthday, Steph!” I hear the familiar voice of Danny call from downstairs.

“Thanks, Danny,” I sigh before rolling out of bed and heading into the shower. I quickly run through what has become my morning routine- showering using a very feminine-smelling shampoo and body wash, before blow-drying my shoulder-length hair and brushing it into what has become my trademark style. I then apply my make-up- just a subtle layer of foundation, followed by thick mascara and eyeliner, pale silver eyeshadow and scarlet lipstick- and pull on my ‘control’ thong and padded bra, before pulling on a pair of translucent black tights, a cute grey skirt and a tight striped top. I sigh as I stare at the cute no-longer teenaged girl in the mirror, before taking a selfie for my Instagram account, showing off the skirt I got from yet another endorsement deal. Even on my birthday, a celebrity’s work is never done…

After putting away my phone, I think back to this time last year when I turned nineteen- Likely the last birthday ‘Steve’ will ever celebrate. As with this year, I was rudely awoken by my father blaring music at the foot of my bed, though the tune of choice was Stevie Wonder’s ‘Happy Birthday to You’ rather than music that was sung by myself. As with this year, I showered and dressed, though that’s where the similarities end. Last year, I shaved my face clean of facial year. This year, I shaved my legs, my face having been completely free of hair for months. Last year, I wore jeans that cost £7 from Asda. This year, obviously, is different.

However, I’m also forced to remember that last year on my birthday, I spent virtually all day either on the internet or walking around London desperately looking for a job. This year, I not only have a job, but a job I truly love. I’m famous, I’m rich, I have friends and family who genuinely care about me… Even though it’s ‘Stephanie’ who’s famous and rich. ‘Steve’ will forever remain the unemployed, friendless loser he was this time last year.

“Happy birthday, sis!” Danny laughs, greeting me with a hug as I enter the living room to discover a massive pile of presents on the sofa- a pile at least three times the size it was last year.

“Oh my god!” I gasp. “Did- did you spend-“

“We haven’t bankrupted ourselves, don’t worry,” dad laughs. “Most of those are actually from your friends, sent on by your agency. A couple are from fans.”

“And don’t worry, we’ve already checked, the fan-sent ones are all ‘appropriate’,” mum giggles. “Now go on, get opening!”

“Is- isn’t Tom going to be here?” I ask.

“Ehhh…” Danny grimaces. “He- he said he might be round later.”

“Okay,” I whisper. As much as my parents and my older brother Danny may have accepted ‘Stephanie’, my oldest brother- Tom- can still only barely stand to be in the same room as ‘Stephanie’. I can’t help but wonder whether or not his reluctance to accept ‘Steph’ is part of the reason I still cling so tightly to ‘Steve’…

“Get opening!” Dad laughs. “If Tom wants to miss this, that’s his problem.” I smile as I tear open the presents, unveiling- as predicted- half a wardrobe’s worth of new clothes, including skirts, dresses, girly tops and fashionable bodysuits, but not a single pair of trousers or even any shorts. I also receive make-up, perfume and hair care products, as well as a whole rainbow of nail polish (despite the fact that I rarely wear it). I also receive five new pairs of shoes and a pair of very sexy knee-high leather boots- all of which have at least a 2.5 inch heel. I even get a new leotard for ballet class. Aside from a couple of boxes of chocolates (which were both sent by fans), all of my presents are overtly feminine, not even qualifying as ‘androgynous’.

“Thank you so much!” I gush, giving my parents and my brother tight hugs. “This- this is all-“

“Everything we should have bought you for your nineteenth birthday?” Mum asks with a sad face, sighing as I nod. “Well, it’s never too late to make things right. From now on, every birthday you have, you are going to be treated like the beautiful princess that you are!” I laugh as mum gives me another hug, even as I wish that I had today received everything my parents had bought me for my nineteenth birthday.

I spend the next couple of hours ‘modelling’ my new clothes (and my new nail polish as well, painting each nail a different colour) for my parents and my brother, before we’re interrupted just after lunch by a gentle knock on the front door.

“More fan mail, no doubt,” dad laughs as I open the door and stare into the smiling, green-eyed face of my closest friend.

“Happy birthday!” Kayla squeaks, giving me a tight hug before handing me a small, carefully-wrapped present.

“Umm, didn’t you already give me your present?” I ask, before reading the label on the gift.

“To Steve, love from Kayla,” I whisper just loud enough for only Kayla to hear.

“Happy birthday, ‘Steve’,” Kayla whispers, giving me a secret kiss on my baby-smooth cheek.

“Hi Kayla!” Danny yells as I hide the gift away in the pocket of my raincoat.

“Hi Danny,” the tiny blonde girl half-laughs, half-sighs.

“Merida not with you?” Danny asks, making Kayla and I roll our eyes.

“Lauren!” Kayla and I both laugh, causing us to both giggle loudly.

“She’ll be round later,” Kayla laughs. “She kinda drank a LOT last night…”

“Oh come on,” Danny laughs. “She’s a Scot, average drinking for her is, like, lethal for the rest of us!”

“Danny…” Mum says, silencing my brother. “Kayla, can we get you anything to drink?”

“Umm, just a cup of tea, please,” Kayla says.

“Still leaving alcohol alone?” I ask Kayla quietly, who smiles and nods. “Can’t blame you, really.”

“Helps that I’m supposed to be the sweet, innocent one of the band,” Kayla giggles. “Got to keep up the public image…”

“What the hell would that make me, then?” I giggle.

“The inspirational one, of course!” Kayla says, making me giggle even louder. I could take or leave any of the presents I received today, but the friendships I’ve made as ‘Stephanie’ truly are priceless.

That knowledge is reinforced a little while later as Lauren, Becca and Adeola arrive, all greeting me with tight hugs and extra little gifts that hadn’t made their way into the morning’s pile. We spend the rest of the afternoon gossiping in the living room- much to Danny’s delight- before our taxi arrives just after 6pm to whisk me away to my party, which is, of course, held at Charlotte Hutchinson’s mansion. Which also, of course, means that from the very first second of the party, I’ll be under the watchful eye of Miss Jamie-Lee Burke, who greets me with a tight hug upon my arrival at the vast house.

“Happy birthday!” Jamie squeaks excitedly. “Welcome to PROPER adult life, hehe!”

“Thanks,” I laugh. “I guess you’ve got a costume for me upstairs to change into?”

“Of course,” Jamie says with a smug smile. “’Costumes’ may be a bit of a strong word in this case, but I’ve certainly got dresses for all of you up in my bedroom!” I force a smile on my face as I- accompanied by the rest of the girls- follow Jamie up the stairs. I wouldn’t be surprised if she stashed the dresses in her bedroom so she could look at me while I change, to confirm the suspicions that she no doubt has about my lack of ‘change’ following a supposed 11 months on oestrogen.

I’m able to put such paranoid thoughts to the back of mind, though, once I step into Jamie’s spacious bedroom and stare at the outfit that’s been laid out for me, as it is truly, truly gorgeous. The main ‘body’ of the outfit is a dress in a shiny red material with a square neck (which, of course, shows off cleavage that I don’t really have), a very narrow waist that requires me to wear a corset underneath, and a wide, flared skirt with several cute waves throughout, especially when given volume by a multi-layered petticoat. My black tights are swapped for shiny nude stockings (which are attached to my corset by six garters each) and I have a pair of stilettos with a 6” platform heel attached to each feet with a very elaborate set of straps. My make-up is enhanced to its fullest, my nails are repainted the same blood-red colour as my dress, I have two pairs of extravagant, dangly earrings pushed through each earlobe and my hair is restyled into a cute bob that wouldn’t look out of place in the 1950s.

The other girls all change into similar dresses in their ‘colours’- pink for Kayla, blue for Lauren, gold for Adeola and pale yellow for Becca- before the five of us are escorted down to the ‘main room’ of the house, where the party is in full swing. Because of my dress and hair, I initially assume that the party’s theme is ‘fifties’, though when I step into the room (and the cheers and cries of ‘happy birthday’) subside, the actual them becomes clear.

Every single woman in the room is dressed in their best party frock (all of which are puffed up with petticoats), same as me, and every single one of them has had their hair styled into a style that isn’t so much ‘old-fashioned’ as ‘juvenile’. And yet, everything’s a little ‘off’- all of them are also wearing tight corsets, high-heeled shoes, excessive make-up…

“Welcome to your first ever ‘big girl’s little girl’s party’!” Jamie giggles. “We figured that with this being your first birthday as a girl, you’d want a proper girl’s party like we DIDN’T get to have when we were kids.”

“But,” Charlotte interrupts, bouncing over to us. “We ALSO figured that you are twenty years old and wouldn’t want childish, silly things like that, so we ‘adultified’ the party a bit, hence ‘big girl’s little girl’s party’!”

“It’s PERFECT!” I giggle excitedly. And it is- it truly is. The last time I had a birthday party was when I was thirteen, and even then, it was just having a few friends over, eating a takeout pizza and playing videogames. I’d occasionally see photos on Facebook of the parties my female friends would have, and it would always make me go green with envy whenever I’d see their posh dresses and fancy make-up. I didn’t go to my school’s prom as I knew the sight of the girls in their beautiful prom dresses- whilst I was wearing a tuxedo- would occupy my mind all night. That, and there was no way a skinny, unpopular 5’ 6” guy was ever going to get a date.

I’d also, of course, seen photos and videos of the numerous costume parties thrown by the Angels in the past, of the amazing Victorian-themed party in December 2013 just before the girls became famous, or the Strictly Come Dancing themed party for Jamie's birthday three years ago. The mere notion that I- an unremarkable, plain-looking person who was born male- could so much as attend one was pure fantasy, so getting one thrown especially for me really is a dream come true. If only I wasn’t obsessed with ‘waking up’ from this dream…

“Glad to hear it!” Jamie giggles, clearly satisfied by my genuine gratitude. “If I were you, I’d go and get a ‘big girl’s little girl’s drink’ before you get pestered to give a speech!” I giggle yet again before heading to the bar, smiling at the sensation of the voluminous petticoats swishing around my stockinged legs. Even if a part of me does want to return to ‘reality’, that doesn’t mean that the majority of me can’t relax and enjoy the party, to look toward the future rather than dwell on the past. As I approach the bar, however, my eyes go wide as I come face to face with an unexpected face.

“Evening, ma’am,” Danny- who is apparently serving as the bartender- says with a smug grin. “What can I get you?”

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“We don’t have any drinks called ‘what are you doing here’,” Danny says, making me sigh frustratedly. “Maybe you’d like a ‘big girl’s little girl’s cherryade’?”

“Just answer the question,” I order.

“I’m not going to miss my little sister’s first ‘big girl’s little girl’s party’, am I?” Danny chuckles. “Have a look around- this is a girls’ party only. All the actual men that are here are only here in a ‘service’ role, waiters or bar staff, I told Charlotte that I used to work behind the bar, so I got me a new job for one night only!”

“…That cherryade sounds nice, please,” I say, sighing as Danny pours the drink- which is just cherryade and vodka, but tastes very nice. Two of these cherryades later, I’ve managed to relax to the point where I’m happily dancing with the rest of the girls, giggling as my petticoats cause my dress to flare up every time I spin around.

As the night goes on, I get more and more tipsy, but never reach the state of fall-down drunk, which is for the best as I’m coerced into singing an a cappella version of ‘Showdown’, my solo track from our album, before all five of us serenade the room with a rendition of ‘No More Lies’. Once the performance is over, I’m unceremoniously shoved in front of the lead microphone as the entire room starts calling for a speech.

“Oh my god…” I say with a girlish giggle. “This day has been so amazing, thank you all so, so much for this! I never really had a party like this when I was younger… For obvious reasons, hehe! I can’t wait to see what you’ve got lined up for my 21st!”

“Get in line,” Becca says, making both of us nearly double over in fits of giggles.

“But seriously,” I sigh. “I really do feel like the luckiest girl in the world to have such amazing friends… And an okay-ish brother.”

“High praise, coming from her,” Danny laughs.

“So… enjoy the rest of the party, I guess!” I giggle as the band wrap me in a group hug. Once I’m released, I smile and pose for the crowd as they photograph me for their Facebook pages and Instagram accounts, before spending the rest of the night drinking, dancing and enjoying my day in the limelight. It’s only once I get home and some of the alcohol-induced fog leaves my brain that I realise that the more the party went on, the less I thought about ‘Steve’.

As the faint glow of the Sun wakes me from my slumber, though, all I want to do is pull on a pair of jeans and a comfortable sweatshirt and spend the whole day forgetting all about ‘Stephanie’s existence. However, with my parents downstairs, I know that’s not an option- at least, not immediately.

As the clock ticks over to 10:30am, I sigh and admit defeat, getting out of bed and padding toward the shower, where I allow the hot water to cleanse my body and ease my stress- at least for the time being. Without even thinking, I wash my body and my hair with ‘Stephanie’s sweet-smelling shower gel and shampoo, before returning to my room, pulling on a padded bra and a control thong and applying a light layer of make-up. Even though no one will blame me for dressing for comfort today, as I’m not going out, I sigh as I open my drawers and realise that even the most comfortable of ‘Stephanie’s clothing options still has a large degree of ‘sexy’. I end up opting for a pair of ribbed black tights, a snug black long-sleeved bodysuit and a knee-length denim pencil skirt. With my hair brushed out and my nails still painted red from last night, I’m still very much the picture of glamour, earning a playful wolf whistle from Danny as I walk downstairs.

“Stop teasing your sister!” Mum admonishes my brother, before turning to me. “Though you do look very, very pretty, Stephanie! Did you have a good night last night?”

“Yeah,” I reply honestly. “It was fun… Danny, do you live here now or something?”

“What?” Danny protests. “I can’t celebrate my baby sister’s birthday or something?”

“It IS a rare treat to have two of my children under our roof at the same time,” mum says. “Especially if you’re still planning on moving back in with your bandmates…”

“Nothing’s set in stone yet,” I sigh as I slump down onto the sofa, crossing one leg over the other and both smirking and grimacing at the sensations created by the ribbing on my tights rubbing together. “I’m going to be here for a while yet.”

“GOOD,” mum says. “I know young people are expected to go out and find their independence, but boy or girl, you are our youngest, and that means we’re not ready to let go of you just yet!”

“Whereas me and Tom can just go and sod off, I guess,” Danny says, laughing as mum gives him a playful slap on the back of the head.

“Has- has Tom been in touch?” I ask hesitantly.

“Not yet,” mum whispers. “Though I assure you, that boy is in BIG trouble when I see him next, missing his sister’s birthday…”

“Honestly, there’s no need to go to any fuss, it can’t have been easy for him,” I say.

“It wasn’t easy for me either, but I got used to it,” Danny says. “And it was probably harder for you than for both of us combined! I’ve read plenty of articles online about transsexualism, and what they all say is that you need support, not judgement.”

“And ‘endless teasing’ qualifies as ‘support’?” Mum asks Danny, who shrugs in response.

“I’m still her older brother, it’s part of the job role,” Danny laughs. “I’m actually seeing Tom and his girlfriend later today, you’re more than welcome to come too, if you want.” I freeze as Danny puts me on the spot- whilst I do want to try to repair my relationship with my brother, I was also looking to ‘Steve’ time today…

“He knows where I am if he wants to talk to me,” I say, trying my best to sound more bitter than I actually am.

“Okay then,” Danny says, clearly taken aback by my hostility. “I’ll make sure he gets THAT message…”

“Stephanie, it wouldn’t hurt you to go and talk to Tom,” mum says. “I don’t think you’ve even met his girlfriend yet, and I know the two of you would get along.”

“Maybe some other time,” I whisper.

“If you insist,” mum says stoically. “Do you want breakfast or shall you just skip straight to lunch?”

“Breakfast would be good, please,” I say, sighing fifteen minutes as I’m presented with my fruit and cereal, as mandated by the band’s dietician, whilst Danny wolfs down a delicious-smelling cheese toastie. It’s a further hour before my mother and brother both leave to go to work and home respectively, leaving me alone in the house. I relax into the sofa and try to get comfortable, as whilst they are undoubtedly feminine, my clothes are very warm and cozy. My outfit is very similar to the sort of thing I’d wear during ‘Stephanie sessions’ back before I lived full-time as a woman, and yet I don’t get the same sense of excitement, the same thrill that I used to get from wearing these clothes. Now, the only clothing that excites me in the same way are the elaborate costumes we wear when shooting music videos, or attending big, fancy parties- like last night- or, ironically, the clothes still nestled in my ‘Steve’ drawer upstairs.

Once I’m satisfied that mum and Danny aren’t coming back (and safe in the knowledge that dad won’t be back for ages), I head upstairs and strip off all of my clothes, before removing all my make-up, my nail polish and brushing my hair back into an androgynous style. I reach into my ‘Steve drawer’ and pull out a loose pair of black boxer shorts, sighing as I step into them, before pulling on a pair of socks, a baggy white t-shirt and my favourite jeans and sweater. I stare at my reflection in my full-length mirror for five minutes, desperate to determine whether I’m looking at a boy, or a girl pretending to be a boy. No matter how closely I look, however, no answer springs forth.

I head downstairs to the living room to relax, but before I enter the room, I pass ‘Stephanie’s raincoat, still hanging on its usual peg. I reach into the pocket of the dark red garment and retrieve Kayla’s present from where I stashed it yesterday and quickly unwrap it, laughing at what’s inside- a £100 gift card for the Xbox online store, and a note that reads ‘Happy birthday ‘Steve’, Love from KKMustang97x’. I grin as I switch on my Xbox and redeem the gift card, before going to the ‘player search’ screen and typing in ‘KKMustang97x’, smiling as it returns a picture of a very familiar young blonde woman. My smile widens as my friend request is immediately accepted, and followed up seconds later by a voice chat request.

“Hey you,” Kayla says over my headset. “I take it you like the gift, then?”

“Yes I did,” I say in my ‘Steve’ voice. “Thank you so much!”

“Ooh, I’m not speaking to ‘Miss’ Abbott, then?” Kayla asks. “Your parents both at work?”

“For the next few hours,” I reply. “Getting in some ‘Steve time’ where I can. I hope Lauren isn’t listening in!”

“Nah, she’s out with her new boyfriend,” Kayla says. “Just the two of us today. So, what d’you fancy first? Destiny, Grand Theft Auto?”

“Bit of GTA sounds amazing,” I say. “I’d love to know what Lauren says every time you blast away on your Xbox, heh. Especially when I recall you saying that the first episode of Game of Thrones made you throw up!”

“Oh, whatever, I was sixteen then, I’m eighteen now,” Kayla retorts. “As for Lauren… You know, when I moved in, I thought we’d be like sisters? I mean, I’m an only child, she’s only got brothers, neither of us have ever lived with another woman our own age, but…”

“Yeah, it wasn’t really like that when I lived with her either,” I sigh. “Maybe because she’s so far away from her family home, I dunno.”

“Or maybe…” Kayla says, before tailing off.

“Or maybe it was something to do with me?” I ask. “Yeah, you’re probably right, heh. You know… If I could go back and do everything differently, I would, I’d have just been honest from the very start. But, I guess what’s done is done…”

“If you’d been honest,” Kayla says, “you wouldn’t have applied for the band, and almost certainly wouldn’t have been accepted into the band. For all you know, you’d still be unemployed.”

“True,” I sigh. “I’d almost certainly still be unemployed, wouldn’t have a girlfriend, any friends… I really, really am the luckiest-“ I pause, prompting Kayla to giggle loudly.

“Going to finish that sentence?” Kayla asks. “Because if you say ‘boy’, need I remind you that boys DON’T talk about their feelings, nor do they dance the night away in fancy red dresses, whereas girls… Huh, I guess girls DO spend all day on the sofa wearing slouchy clothing and playing videogames. I mean, that’s what I’m doing right now, and no one would ever mistake me for a boy, would they?”

“Yes, yes, you’ve made it perfectly clear which ‘side’ you’d rather I choose,” I sigh.

“Either way, the sooner you choose, the better,” Kayla says. “For all of us.”

“The only reason I haven’t gone insane over the past few months is that I can get regular ‘Steve time’,” I remind my friend. “And if anything, I’ve been getting more and more of it…”

“Way to make me feel like an enabler, STEVE,” Kayla says.

“You’re only enabling me to be who I really am,” I say.

“But is ‘Steve’ who you really, really are?” Kayla asks, making me groan loudly. “I’ll take that as a ‘don’t know’.”

“Can we just game, please?” I ask, trying to relax as Kayla and I get engrossed in our game. So engrossed, in fact, that I momentarily lose track of the time and start to panic slightly when I hear dad’s car pull up outside. I hurriedly say goodbye to Kayla before switching off my Xbox and rushing upstairs, stripping off my jeans and sweater and stuffing them back into my wardrobe before pulling my tights, bodysuit and skirt back on, brushing my hair out into ‘Stephanie’s trademark style and reapplying my make-up. I make sure to play some music- some of our band’s music, obviously- whilst doing this, giving dad the impression that I’m an ordinary twenty year old woman hanging out in her bedroom, listening to music and chatting with her friends on her phone.

“Typical girl,” dad laughs from downstairs after a few minutes. “Is a ‘welcome home’ too much to ask for?”

“Welcome home,” I yell as I straighten my tights, before sighing and heading downstairs.

“Have you changed your hairstyle?” Dad asks.

“Umm, maybe,” I reply. “I was kinda, you know, experimenting with it…”

“Eh, it looks good on you,” dad says with a genuine smile. “Long hair always did- long hair for a boy, I mean.”

“Thanks, dad,” I chuckle, cuddling my legs underneath me as we spend the rest of the evening watching television. Dad’s not wrong- I always thought I looked better with long hair, especially when it’s in a feminine style. What’s more, feminine hair feels better, more comfortable, as do the clothes I’m wearing. As the night goes on, my bodysuit and my skirt feel more comfortable, more relaxing even than the clothes that ‘Steve’ was wearing earlier today…

I have a smile on my face as my alarm wakes me up at 7:30am to signify the start of another working week, even though (or maybe because) I won’t be doing any actual ‘work’ today, or at the very least, no singing. As usual for a Monday, I shower thoroughly and apply my make-up before returning to my bedroom and pulling on my ‘special’ bra and thong, followed by a pair of silky soft pink tights, a black tank leotard and a thick burgundy sweater dress on top. After slipping my feet into a pair of sexy high-heeled knee-high boots, I grab my dance bag and head downstairs, where my mother has just returned from her night shift.

“Ah, my little ballerina,” mum coos, making me blush.

“Mum!” I retort. “’Little’? I’m taller than you even without these heels…”

“Sorry, sorry,” mum giggles. “You’re just going to have to accept that no matter how old, or how tall, or how famous- or even how female you get, you’re still our youngest, that means you’ll always be ‘our little whatever’.”

“Yes, you’ve more than driven that home over the last twenty years,” I sigh. “I’m going to see my counsellor straight after my lesson so I won’t be back until after lunch at the earliest.”

“Suits me, give me a chance to get some sleep!” Mum laughs. “Have fun at ballet!”

“Will do,” I chuckle as I eat breakfast, before jumping into my waiting cab and heading toward Krystie Fullerton’s fancy new dance studio, into which she moved over the Christmas holidays. Unlike the previous studio, this one is state of the art, almost twice as big as before and has another, smaller studio adjacent to the main one, allowing Krystie to teach more students at once- or rather, Krystie and her new teaching partner, who greets me with air kisses upon my arrival at the new studio.

“Ah, bonjour, Mademoiselle Renou,” I say, making the dark-haired Frenchwoman giggle excitedly.

“The children call me ‘Mademoiselle Renou’!” The teacher laughs. “Over sixteen, you call me ‘Zoe’. Especially if you’re also over twenty, bon anniversaire, Stephanie!”

“Thanks,” I laugh as we’re joined by Lauren and Kayla, whom Zoe also greets with air kisses.

“Ah, half of the six nations have arrived,” Krystie laughs, before ushering the four of us into the studio. “Zoe, you do know I don’t pay overtime, right?”

“I need to get to know all my students better,” Zoe shrugs. “Especially if I’ll be teaching them pointe in a few months!”

“And if wouldn’t have anything to do with these three gir- sorry, these three ‘young women’ being national celebrities, would it?” Krystie asks.

“Just a perk of the job!” Zoe giggles as she ushers myself, Lauren and Kayla to the barre, where we begin our stretches. After ninety minutes of dancing- during which I’m repeatedly complimented on my progress by both Krystie and Zoe- I head to the posh new changing room to pull my dress back on, only to be stopped by the arrival of Becca and Adeola, who physically turn me around and march me back into the studio.

“Not so fast, Miss Abbott!” Becca giggles.

“Yeah,” Adeola laughs. “It was your birthday on Saturday, you know what that means…”

“Oh- come on,” I moan. “I don’t even have my pointe shoes yet…”

“Neither did I when it was my birthday,” Kayla giggles as Krystie produces a wide, frivolous pink tutu from her supply closet. “Now get changed!”

“Um, privacy?” I ask as the tutu is roughly shoved into my hands.

“Seriously?” Adeola asks. “After we’ve spent the last ten months sharing changing rooms, staring at each other’s tits?”

“Those of us that have them,” I say, making the dark-skinned girl grimace as she realises her faux pas.

“You’ve been on oestrogen for almost a year,” Lauren ‘reminds’ me. “And you’re not big-chested- wide-chested, I mean- to begin with, have you REALLY had no, um, ‘growth’?”

“Some people just don’t get ‘growth’,” I say, lowering the mood in the room.

“Well,” Krystie says, clapping her hands to break the awkward silence, “luckily the tutu’s designed so that it can hide a padded bra, so we’ll all turn our backs, you slip your leotard off and the tutu on, and show us that I HAVEN’T wasted the last eleven months trying to teach you how to dance!” I force a smile on my face as the six other women turn their backs and I peel off my leotard, before stepping into the loud, rustling tutu and allowing Krystie to lace it shut at the back. It feels amazing once it’s on- as does every other feminine costume I wear- and once Krystie’s gently lowered a tiara onto my head, I truly feel like a princess as I step and pirouette around the vast room, occasionally catching glimpses of myself in the studio’s mirrored walls. I actually sigh sadly as Krystie unlaces me from the tutu, such is the beauty of the costume.

“Ah, I’ve heard that sigh before,” Krystie giggles. “Usually from Jamie and Nikki, not that I’m trying to stereotype you ‘special’ girls, hehe!”

“It IS so gorgeous,” I sigh as I step back into my leotard.

“Just like the girl wearing it!” Becca giggles as she and the rest of the band give me a hug. “Now get your dress back on, we have a lunch reservation and I am starving!”

“Ahh…” I sigh sadly. “I kinda, kinda have a prior engagement. With my counsellor, you know…”

“Oh, that sucks,” Adeola says, before her eyes light up once again. “Dinner tonight?”

“Sure!” I say, making Becca and Adeola giggle happily. “Got anywhere special in mind?”

“Just Chez Benedict, I’m afraid,” Adeola laughs.

“I hear they do AMAZING takeout Chinese food,” Becca giggles. “See you there at 6?”

“You got it!” I giggle, before pulling my dress and boots back on and heading out to a waiting taxi. Twenty minutes later, I’m coolly striding into the office of my counsellor, where I take a seat, crossing one leg over the other and smiling at the sensation as the soft leather of my boots rubs together.

“Hello Stephanie,” Beverly says with a warm smile. “Just come from your dance lesson?”

“Yeah,” I reply. “It was my birthday on Saturday, so Krystie made me dance in a big, poofy tutu…”

“Ah yes, happy birthday,” Beverly laughs. “My daughter told me that you had a ‘big girl’s little’s girl’s’ theme?”

“Yep,” I say with a smile. “It was an amazing night, the dress they made for me was GORGEOUS.”

“I saw some of the photos on Sarah’s Instagram account,” Beverly laughs. “You really seemed to be enjoying yourself.”

“It was my first ever birthday as Stephanie,” I whisper, making Beverly nod.

“And I assume it was only ‘Stephanie’ who received any gifts this year?” The middle-aged woman asks.

“…Not quite,” I grimace. “’Steve’ did get a gift, from Kayla.”

“The girl you confided in a few months ago, your bandmate?” Beverly asks.

“Yeah,” I whisper. “I- I had a ‘Steve’ session yesterday, just a few hours wearing jeans, playing videogames with Kayla, trying to forget about Stephanie…”

“And how did it make you feel?” Beverly asks.

“…Anxious,” I laugh. “Like I couldn’t properly relax, especially when I had to go and get changed back into ‘Stephanie’s clothes in a hurry. It was- god, this’ll sound silly…”

“I’ve told you before, nothing you say in this office will be treated as ‘silly’,” Beverly assures me.

“It- it was like before, when I was ‘Steve’ and dressing up as ‘Stephanie’,” I say. “The thrill of doing what I shouldn’t, of nearly being caught…”

“And you don’t get that ‘thrill’ from Stephanie’s clothes anymore?” Beverly asks.

“Only from the big, extravagant costumes,” I say. “Like my birthday dress, or the tutu today, stuff I couldn’t wear outside, like. Things like I’m wearing now… I know it should be exciting but it’s just… Comfortable, relaxing.”

“Everything you’re saying is perfectly normal,” Beverly says. “It’s a stage all transgendered people reach, when they begin to settle into their chosen gender and it becomes a part of their everyday life, it becomes, for want of a better word, routine.”

“But I’m NOT transgendered,” I moan.

“Are you sure about that?” Beverly asks, nodding as I moan and shake my head. “From the way you describe your ‘Steve’ sessions, you sound almost like a girl pretending to be a boy, not the other way round.”

“I- I don’t know,” I sigh. “This would be so much easier if I just abandoned ‘Steve’, if I never wanted to be him again…”

“Just because you still cling on to your old identity, it doesn’t mean that you AREN’T transgendered,” Beverly advises. “Even if it’s not to the same degree as someone such as Jamie- who I’m only using as she’s an acquaintance of yours, not another patient of mine!”

“I’d never dream of saying that you’d breached doctor-patient confidentiality,” I say, making Beverly chuckle.

“I know you won’t,” Beverly laughs. “Tell me more about the party, how it felt compared to previous birthdays.” I take a deep breath before replying, and emerge from the office an hour later refreshed at having got all my anxieties off my chest, but still frustrated at being no closer to answering the question of which gender I’d prefer to live as on a permanent basis.

I arrive back home to an empty house just after 1:30pm and crash on the sofa, letting out a long, contented sigh. After slipping off my boots, I tuck my pink legs underneath me and switch on the TV, relaxing for the next few hours until I’m due to go to Adeola’s house. At no point do I even consider changing out of my clothes (not even my tight leotard)- in my warm dress and smooth tights, I am the very embodiment of comfort. The fact that the clothes are ‘Stephanie’s rather than ‘Steve’s barely even registers with me.

Just before 5pm, I head upstairs to change- as I’m going to Adeola’s house, her uncle- our manager- will inevitably be there as well, and he’s someone with whom you always need to make a good impression. I strip off my sweater dress and my dancewear and pull on a pair of sheer black tights, a black leather miniskirt and a fashionable patterned long-sleeved top, all of which I photograph for my Instagram account in order to appease the clothing companies who sent me the beautiful clothes. After pulling my sexy boots back on, I grab my coat and head out to the waiting taxi, which whisks me away to Adeola’s uncle’s vast house, where I’m greeted by the tall dark-skinned girl herself.

“Hey, Steffieboots!” Adeola giggles as she gives me a tight hug. “Are you going for a ‘dominatrix’ thing or is the leather skirt and leather boots thing just an accident?”

“The skirt’s an endorsement, the boots are… Sexy, hehe!” I say, making Adeola giggle loudly.

“Is that another one of my superstars?” Joshua- Adeola’s uncle- booms from the living room.

“Hi Mr. Benedict, Mrs. Benedict,” I yell in response, earning a loud laugh from the middle-aged African gentleman.

“At home you can call me Joshua!” Adeola’s uncle shouts. “Unless you’d rather be called ‘Miss Abbott’!” or Mister Abbott, I think to myself.

“’Stephanie’ will be fine… Joshua!” I giggle, making Joshua let out another loud, booming laugh.

“’Stephanie’ it is!” The older man yells. “Addie! Get your guest a drink!”

“I’m um, not that thirsty,” I say to my bandmate who giggles and rolls her eyes.

“I don’t think you get a say in it,” Adeola laughs, leading me to the kitchen where Becca gives me a tight hug.

“Hey, Steph!” Becca giggles. “I am SO buying that skirt when I get home!” I giggle as I do a slow twirl for Becca before sitting down at the expensive-looking kitchen table.

“What time’s food getting here?” I ask. “I’m starving…”

“About half an hour,” Adeola says. “I remember when we DIDN’T have to run everything we eat past our dietician…”

“Your uncle’s invested a lot of money in us,” Becca shrugs. “He wants us to be in tip-top condition 24/7, wants to make sure we don’t put anything in our bodies that’s no good for us.”

“And speaking of ‘putting things in our bodies’,” Adeola says, causing Becca to double over in a fit of giggles.

“Let me guess: Marco and Riley are joining us?” I ask, referring to the two girls’ boyfriends.

“No, not tonight,” Adeola giggles. “Bex and I are staying boy-free for the rest of the night. You, on the other hand…” I sigh, before letting out a tired giggle.

“Setting me up with another guy that won’t get past the first date?” I ask the two women, who both laugh.

“We have high hopes for this one,” Becca says with her trademark smug grin. “So much so that you can consider him a late birthday present!”

“Let me guess: he’s gift-wrapped his ‘parts’?” I ask, making the two girls double over in laughter again.

“No, and don’t say that around Riley, I don’t ever need THAT image!” Becca laughs.

“Let’s just say that you and Kurt are going to get on REALLY well,” Adeola says. “In the meantime, guess what I found out we’re going to get tomorrow…”

“Ooh, ooh, is it finally here?” Becca squeaks excitedly.

“Is what here?” I ask, earning confused, condescending stares from the two girls.

“Our bus, silly!” Becca says. “Our tour bus? You know, our home away from home as we wow crowds up and down the country with how talented-“

“-And sexy!” Adeola interjects.

“-We are?” Becca finishes, making me laugh nervously. With every day that passes, this upcoming tour becomes more and more real… And I get more and more terrified at the prospect of two weeks on the road with people I’ve been lying to for over a year.

The following morning, I try to put my nerves to the back of my mind as I’m stood in front of my microphone, singing my heart out with the other four girls. I’m wearing my most comfortable clothing- thick, warm black tights, a pleated dark grey miniskirt and a dark purple turtleneck sweater- but I still feel uneasy, especially because I know that every note we sing today is practice for the upcoming tour. All the other girls are, of course, giddy with excitement at the prospect of singing to a live crowd, a pretense I try my hardest to maintain, especially as we’re led out of the studio just before lunch to meet the newest member of the Out of Heaven crew- our bus.

“Oh my god!” Kayla squeaks excitedly as she sees the vehicle for the first time. “It’s so, so cool!”

“It’s awesome!” Becca squeaks, dragging all five of us into a group hug before we’re escorted on board the fancy vehicle. Objectively, the bus is indeed amazing- it’s filled with state of the art facilities, including a shower room, a kitchen, a widescreen TV and, of course, five soft, plush bunks. What there isn’t, however, is any private space, any place to be alone, out of earshot of the rest of the band. And there’ll certainly be no place for ‘Steve’ anywhere on the bus.

“Isn’t this amazing, Steph?” Lauren giggles, giving me a tight, excited hug. “Which bunk are you taking?”

“Um, I dunno…” I mumble, still struggling to process the fact that I will soon be living on this bus with the other four girls.

“Well I’m calling dibs on this one,” Adeola laughs, dramatically sprawling out on the largest bunk. “I’m the tallest, only fair I get the biggest bed!”

“I’ll have this one, then!” Becca laughs, laying down on the bunk next to Adeola’s and playfully linking fingers with her BFF. Before I can move, Kayla and Lauren lay down on the bunks opposite Becca and Adeola and also playfully link their fingers, leaving me to take the one remaining bunk at the back of the bus.

“Wait!” Stuart- who’d shown us around the bus- laughs as he gets out his phone. “Got to take a photo of this, first official photo of the Out of Heaven 2016 tour…” We all pose sweetly on our beds for Stuart as he photographs us, before cheekily flicking our middle fingers at Stuart as he takes further photos.

“We’ll not put THAT one in the souvenir magazine,” Stuart laughs as he puts away his phone.

“Where will we change on here?” I ask, wincing slightly as the other girls giggle at my expense.

“All the places we’ll be playing will have dressing rooms, silly!” Becca laughs. “Just change in there. Same goes for when we change to go out after each show!” Great, I think. Two weeks of changing in front of all the other girls…

“Aren’t you looking forward to the tour, Steph?” Kayla asks, the look in her eyes giving away the fact that she knows precisely why I wouldn’t be looking forward to it.

“Of course I am!” I lie, letting out a nervous giggle. “Can’t wait!”

“Well, don’t get TOO comfortable,” Stuart laughs. “You’ve still got plenty of rehearsing to do, so get some lunch quick and get back to work!”

“Yes, your lordship,” Becca sarcastically retorts as her brother leads us off the bus. After a light meal, the five of us get back to work, singing our hearts out for the rest of the day, before we’re let out of the studio at 5pm. The five of us decide to go out for dinner together, accompanied by Becca’s, Adeola’s and Lauren’s boyfriends (Kayla and I are, of course, still single), and over the meal, the only topics of conversation are either the upcoming tour or the bus, making me more and more anxious with every passing second.

Once again, I arrive home to an empty house, and once again, I strip off ‘Stephanie’s clothes and scrub off my make-up, before pulling on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt from ‘Steve’s clothes drawer, but even this does nothing to abate my anxiety- if anything, wearing ‘Steve’s clothes makes me feel even more anxious, knowing that I can’t afford to be caught wearing the clothes just in case my parents return early. It’s not until I’ve pulled on ‘Stephanie’s slinky pink nightie and climbed underneath my covers that I finally feel relaxed- or at the very least, tired enough to get to sleep.

My alarm wakes me from a dreamless sleep at 7:30am and, in a semi-conscious daze, I run through my morning routine, which today includes pulling on the soft pink tights and tight black leotard I’ll be wearing all morning at my second ballet class of the week, followed by a chic black denim miniskirt and a tight khaki top. Unlike the lesson on Monday, today’s lesson will involve all of what most of the girls dub the ‘Angel extended family’, which means that when I arrive at the dance studio, I’m greeted with big hugs from Becca and Adeola… And a typically inscrutable stare from Jamie.

“Hey Steph!” Krystie giggles as she bounces over to me and gives me a tight hug. “So… How’d you like the bus? Not exactly big enough to do any proper dancing on, of course…”

“We’ll just have to practice in the car park,” Becca says, making Krystie giggle. “There’s a few new faces here today…”

“Yeah, Zoe’s friends, ex-colleagues,” Krystie explains. “Part of her condition for working here, she wanted to teach some of her friends, I figured with the new place we’ve got enough space now at the regular Wednesday lesson. They’re mostly beginners, so they’ll be in your quote-unquote group, Steph- even though you’ve long since left ‘beginner’ behind!”

“Thanks,” I giggle. “Still feel like a beginner every time I see you guys dance, though.”

“Ugh, trust me, everyone feels like that,” Krystie chuckles. “Zoe used to dance with the national youth ballet in France, first time I saw her dance my jaw was on the floor, hehe!”

“And most beginners would be green with envy if they saw you dance the way you did on Monday!” Adeola says, giving my shoulders a tight squeeze.

“Well- I guess,” I sigh.

“And,” Becca says with a smug grin, “most transgendered girls would be green with envy at you being a gorgeous national celebrity!”

“Okay,” I concede, “that’s DEFINITELY true!”

“And will be even greener when they see you on the arm of the sexy stud we’ve got lined up for you tonight!” Adeola giggles. Not bloody likely, I think to myself.

“Ooh, don’t tell me you’ve set up another boy for Miss Abbott to reject after only one date?” Krystie asks, making me cringe.

“Can we just get down to dancing, please?” I ask, making Krystie giggle as she and Zoe direct us into the studio, where we break into two groups- the experienced dancers (those who can dance en pointe) go to Krystie’s side of the room, whilst Lauren, Kayla, myself and three other girls I don’t fully recognise head toward where Zoe is stood on the opposite side of the room.

“Mes filles,” Zoe announces to the six of us, “after our stretches, I want you to work in pairs, one experienced dancer with one not-so experienced dancer, and work on your entree.”

“Can I partner with you?” One of the other girls- a dark-haired young woman with a Manchester accent- asks, making Zoe roll her eyes and giggle.

“NO,” Zoe says firmly. “Now start stretching!” The six of us giggle as we start our stretches, and when the time comes to start our partner work, I find myself working with the dark-haired northerner.

“Hi,” I say by way of a hesitant introduction. “I’m, um, I’m Steph.”

“Yeah, I know, I have kinda heard of you,” the northern girl laughs, making me blush. “I’m Nat, Natalie Briggs, nice to meet you.” I giggle as Natalie and I exchange a quick hug, followed by air kisses.

“Are you a friend of Zoe?” I ask as Natalie and I begin to practise our steps.

“In as much as I’ve been shagging her for over eighteen months,” Natalie says, almost causing me to stumble. “We both used to work for Soixante-Trois. Well, she used to, I still do, and yes, that’s the airline that’s notorious for hiring transgendered stewardesses, and yes, I am, and no, Zoe isn’t.”

“I- I wouldn’t have guessed that either of you were,” I say, closely studying Natalie’s feminine body.

“My eyes are up here,” Natalie says, making me blush again as she points at her face. “And thank you, I could say the same about you!”

“Thanks,” I giggle. “How long have you been on HRT?”

“Haven’t,” Natalie says smugly, making me almost stumble again.

“I- I’m sorry, what?” I ask, gob smacked by the revelation.

“I haven’t ever taken oestrogen,” Natalie says with a smug smile. “Just because I want to be a woman, doesn’t mean I want to take hormones.”

“But- but-“ I stammer.

“I’m not going to begrudge anyone who takes oestrogen,” Natalie says as she adjusts her leotard. “But I’ve got to be true to who I am, you know?”

“But, um, but you are- you consider yourself a woman, right?” I ask.

“I’m wearing a pair of pink tights and a leotard,” Natalie chuckles. “I’ve got foundation garments to give me a female shape, my face is made-up, my long hair’s tied into a bun and my passport has the name ‘Natalie’ on it. What do you think?” Right now? I don’t know what to think.

“But do you- do you ever, um,” I ask.

“Go back to ‘boyhood’?” Natalie completes my sentence for me. “Sometimes, but very rarely. I like having the choice. I can be whoever I want to be, whenever I want to be. ‘Tied down’ doesn’t really suit me. Right now, though, I want to be a ballerina, so less talking, more dancing!” I force a smile on my face as Natalie and I continue dancing, though her words resonate with me- being able to be whoever she wants to be, whenever she wants to be. That’s an option I so desperately wish I had- then again, it’s an option I’ve always wished I had. Occasionally, Jamie (and sometimes Nikki and/or Krystie) will draft me into helping out a young transgendered girl- sometimes as young as twelve- who’s been having difficulty in their lives as a sort-of ‘make a wish’-type thing. Every time I go along to one of those meets, I always leave feeling envious that the girl gets to attend school the way she wants- wearing the same uniform (especially the skirt) as all the other girls, just as I always wanted to do all throughout secondary school.

And yet, when I get home from one of those meets, I inevitably head up to my bedroom and change into ‘Steve’s clothes…

After the dance lesson ends, I head into the changing room and pull my skirt and top back on, sighing as I think about all the transgendered girls who would kill to be able to wear what I’m wearing now, in much the same way I envied all the girls at school. I glance around at all the other girls as they get changed back into their street clothes, especially my new friend Natalie, who pulls on a very slinky long-sleeved black dress and a pair of dangly earrings that no man- at least, no masculine man- would ever dare wear, let alone wear in public. Natalie’s managed to find the balance between male and female that I’m so desperate to keep, and has friends, a career and a stable relationship, all without the help of oestrogen… But without telling any lies, either. If I’d been honest from the very start, I may well have been able to get onto the band even without pretending to take hormones. Given how much I’ve spoken about my life as a woman in interviews, not even Jamie can question my sincere desire to live most of my life as ‘Stephanie’… But god knows how she (and the rest of the world) would react if they found out about the continued existence of ‘Steve’.

Once I and the rest of the band are changed back into our street clothes, we’re picked up in our Out of Heaven-branded minibus and driven back to our studio, where we continue our rehearsals for the tour- though rehearsals come to an abrupt end once we’re given permission to go back onto the tour bus and start decorating and personalising our ‘areas’. For me, all this task involves is picking out bedding and privacy curtains to go around my bed (though how much privacy they’ll actually give me is anyone’s guess). The other four girls, however, are super-excited by the prospect, spending half their time picking out bedding and the other half browsing Amazon on their iPads, picking out ornaments and other decorations.

“Soo,” Becca asks as she shops, “what were the ‘new girls’ like? I gather from Krystie that there’ll be more than just the three we- well, you- met today, that they’ll be on a sort-of ‘roster’ to fit in with their job?”

“They’re nice enough,” I shrug as I grab my own iPad and pretend to shop- though in all honesty, I can’t think of a single thing with which I’d ‘personalise’ my bunk.

“It’s nice to finally not be the only Scot anymore!” Lauren giggles. “Ooh, ooh, look at this set of fairy lights!”

“Oh, they are SO cute,” Adeola sighs. “Pity I already ordered them five minutes ago, hehe!”

“Oh- get to- ugh,” Lauren sighs. “There’ll be others…”

“Natalie- the girl I was practising with today- has apparently been transitioning for eighteen months but hasn’t taken ANY oestrogen whatsoever,” I say, cringing as my statement silences the bus.

“Umm, I’m no expert,” Becca says, “but how would that work, exactly?”

“She, um, chose to live as a woman, but hasn’t taken any steps to change herself physically,” I say.

“So, um, she’s not a ‘real’ transsexual, but just a crossdresser?” Adeola asks.

“No offence, Steph,” Lauren says, “but she looked even more feminine than you do.” Thanks for rubbing that in, Lauren, I think to myself as I exchange a sympathetic glance with Kayla.

“Whatever,” Becca eventually says to break the awkward silence. “If what she’s doing is making her happy and it isn’t hurting anyone, than it can only be a good thing, right?” I smile as my four friends all nod in agreement with Becca, who is, of course, correct.

“Besides,” Adeola giggles, “She ISN’T the transgendered girl who has a hot, steamy date tonight…”

“Ooh!” Lauren and Kayla both giggle, making me blush with embarrassment.

“It’s not ‘hot’ or ‘steamy’,” I protest. “It’s just dinner…”

“Doesn’t mean YOU can’t be hot and steamy!” Adeola laughs.

“And on that note, you’re coming back to my place after work,” Becca states. “We are going to ensure that you are your hottest and steamiest, and I have just the right dress!” I force a smile on my face as the girls continue their shopping- Becca’s clearly ordering me back to her house to ensure that I don’t find a way of weaseling out of the date- which, in fairness, I probably would have (and have done in the past).

After we leave the bus and pack up our things for the day, I’m ushered into the waiting car of Becca’s boyfriend, who drives us back to the brown-haired girl’s vast house, where I’m marched up to Becca’s bedroom and ordered to strip to my underwear.

“You never know,” Adeola giggles as she runs her soft hands through my hair, restyling it into a cute wavy style, “this might not be the last time you’re in your underwear in a strange bedroom tonight…”

“Hey, my room is not strange!” Becca complains, playfully throwing a t-shirt at her BFF’s head.

“Not as strange as its occupant!” Adeola giggles, throwing the t-shirt back before moving on to enhancing my make-up. Fifteen minutes, after the dark-skinned girl has worked her magic, I stare at my reflection in awe- her work is just as good as any of the professional make-up artists who have worked on me over the past few months. With my wet-look lipstick, thick eyeliner and deep silver eyeshadow, I’m going to attract a lot of attention tonight… Especially when I see what Becca intends for me to wear.

The dress she’s selected is short- VERY short, barely covering my panties- and has a sheer décolletage and sheer mesh sleeves. The bodice and skirt and black and extremely tight, showing off what little figure (and what little cleavage) I have. It takes several minutes of pushing and squeezing from Becca and Adeola to get me into the dress, but once I’m zipped into it, I’m astonished at just how sexy I look- especially once my finger- and toenails are painted a deep red colour and I have a pair of Becca’s strappy high-heeled sandals attached to my feet and a matching clutch bag in my hand.

“I am going to freeze to death in this!” I complain as I walk around the room to get used to the feel of the dress and the shoes. “Why only a two inch heel? I thought you were trying to make me ‘steaming hot’?”

“Kurt’s only 5’ 6” himself,” Becca explains. “Don’t want him being intimidated by you, hehe!”

“You’re setting me up with a short guy?” I ask, wincing at how ‘diva-ish’ I suddenly sound.

“I reckon you’ll like him,” Becca says with a smug grin. “Now come on, we don’t want to be late. As always, Riley and me will be at the bar in case things go south- not that there’s any danger of that happening, hehe!”

“Yeah, because all the previous guys you set me up with got second dates, didn’t they?” I ask, wincing as the cold January air hits my bare legs.

“And whose fault was that?” Becca asks with a giggle. “Tell you what, you agree to a second date with Kurt, and you can keep the dress!”

“I’ll think about it,” I say as I elegantly slide onto the back seat of Riley’s car, taking care not to crease my expensive dress. We arrive at the posh restaurant a few minutes later, where Becca introduces me to the young man who will be my date for the night. As Becca promised, he’s not very tall- the same height as me if I wasn’t wearing heels- and is very slender, almost effeminate, which makes a nice change to the tall fitness freaks the girls have previously set me up with. After exchanging air kisses with the young man (always a strange experience), I sit down in the chair being held out for me, taking care to keep my knees together so as to not flash my panties to the whole restaurant.

“Hi,” the young man nervously says in a light American-sounding accent.

“Hi,” I reply with a nervous giggle. “You- you must be Kurt. I- I’m Steph, Stephanie Abbott.”

“Nice to meet you, Stephanie- can I- can I call you Steph?” Kurt asks.

“Of course,” I say with a smile. “I like your accent, what part of America are you from?”

“Canada, actually,” Kurt says, making me grimace.

“Oh sh- sorry…” I mumble.

“It’s okay,” Kurt laughs. “Get that at least five times a day… And to answer your question, I’m originally from Winnipeg, I moved to London for work last summer after graduating from college.”

“What is it you do?” I ask.

“I’m a trainee architect,” Kurt says. “Been working for a big firm here in London for the past six months.”

“Ooh,” I say, genuinely interested by Kurt’s work. “Design anything interesting?”

“Um, assuming you find a new public toilet interesting,” Kurt says as I take a drink, causing me to laugh and nearly snort water out of my nose. “Obviously it’s not as interesting as what you do, heh!”

“I dunno,” I laugh. “We spend a lot of days indoors stood in front of microphones…”

“Better than spending lots of days indoors staring at a computer screen,” Kurt laughs. “And no one ever had posters of architects on their wall.”

“Yeah, but you, you know, make stuff, stuff that lasts,” I say.

“Nothing lasts as long as music,” Kurt shrugs.

“Doubt they’ll still be singing ‘No More Lies’ a hundred years from now,” I snort.

“’Groups with girls are on their way out, Mr. Benedict’?” Kurt asks, making me laugh again. “That’s a- that’s a Beatles thing…” I giggle again at Kurt’s shyness- he’s so unlike the show-offs and wannabes that I’d dated previously that I’m actually starting to enjoy myself.

“I know the quote,” I say with a warm smile, silently cursing as the waiter brings our starters, ruining the relaxed atmosphere that had spread across the table.

“How do you know Becca?” I ask after finishing my pate.

“She, um, contacted me online,” Kurt says, confusing me. Why would Becca- a national celebrity in a long-term relationship- look for and find Kurt- who, while cute, isn’t rich or famous- just for my benefit? “She emailed me, said that she thought you and I would be a good match. Actually thought it was one of my friends playing a prank on me, but the message came through her verified Facebook page, so I responded, and, well, here I am!”

“Didn’t realise she was THAT desperate to find me a boyfriend,” I chuckle. “Why- why did she think that you and me would be compatible?”

“…You mean- you mean you really can’t tell?” Kurt asks.

“Can’t tell what?” I ask, studying Kurt closely.

“You can’t tell that ‘Kurt’ is actually short for ‘Kathryn’?” Kurt says, causing my jaw to drop open.

“…Seriously?” I ask.

“Seriously,” Kurt says, nodding and sweeping his short ginger hair off his forehead with his small, feminine hand. “I was the third of three girls, I grew up doing everything expected of me, I was a soprano on the school choir- obviously nowhere near as a good a singer as you, though- I was on the cheerleading squad, wore a big, fluffy dress to my prom and I hated every second of it."

“I know exactly how you feel,” I say, though as the words leave my lips I’m not sure whether it’s ‘Steve’ talking about his desire to become ‘Stephanie’, or ‘Stephanie’ speaking about her desire to become ‘Steve’.

“Well- obviously, yes, you’d know better than anyone how it feels,” Kurt laughs. “First two years at college I dressed as androgynously as possible, jeans, sweatshirts, I cut my hair short so I wouldn’t stand out as a girl. After my sophomore year, I got diagnosed with gender dysphoria, and I’ve been taking testosterone ever since.”

“And- and what was it like?” I ask.

“Um, you do know what having testosterone is like, right?” Kurt asks, making me blush with embarrassment.

“I mean, what’s it like, um, ‘going the other way’?” I ask. “How the testosterone affected you?”

“Pretty much the same way the oestrogen affected you,” Kurt laughs. “My waist has widened- that was NOT a welcome change- my muscles grew, I started growing body hair and facial hair much faster than before…”

“Have you had anything, um, ‘changed’?” I ask. “Surgically, I mean.”

“Not yet,” Kurt says, shaking his head. “The hormones take care of the, um, ‘regular’ thing. My chest was never too big to begin with. Eventually I’ll get it done, I just… I’m really not a big fan of people approaching my body wielding sharp instruments, like needles or things like that.”

“You’re squeamish when it comes to blood?” I ask.

“Not blood so much,” Kurt says. “I mean, I love shows like, say, Game of Thrones or Dexter. It when it’s MY blood that I kinda check out.”

“Heh, I love Game of Thrones and Dexter too,” I giggle. “I’m also, you know, ‘unaltered’. As ‘god’ intended.”

“I refuse to believe that any benevolent ‘god’ would intend for people like us to live in constant mental torment from being the wrong gender,” Kurt says, nervously reaching a hand across the table and giving my hand a quick squeeze, an action that sends tingles throughout my body.

“What must be worse,” I whisper, “is if you’re not sure which gender you’re supposed to be.”

“Oh, undoubtedly,” Kurt says, melting my heart even further. “The first six months of my transition I was constantly asking myself ‘is this what I want? Is this who I’m truly supposed to be?’”

“…And you ultimately decided that you did truly want to be a man?” I ask.

“I’m wearing the pants, aren’t I?” Kurt asks with a chuckle. “Every time someone calls me ‘Mister’ Vance it just reinforces the fact that I’ve made the right choice.”

“How did your parents react?” I ask, making Kurt giggle.

“They were shocked, at first,” Kurt laughs. “My sisters took it worst of all. Sara- my oldest sister- wouldn’t talk to me for months.”

“I’m the same way with Tom, my oldest brother,” I say. “I’m the youngest of three too, youngest three who were all born the same gender.”

“If I was a hopeless romantic I’d almost think that we were made for each other,” Kurt says, making me giggle yet again as another wave of tingles washes over my body and I begin to realise that I am actually starting to develop feelings for this young man.

An hour and fifteen minutes later, I’m laughing heartily as I leave the restaurant hand-in-hand with Kurt. Everything about him is appealing- his sense of humour, his understanding, sympathetic nature, the way he’s able to relate to every tale I tell of my ‘transition’… It’s almost as if we resonate with each other. We got on so well, in fact, that I didn’t even notice when Becca and Riley left long before the end of the date, forcing me to get an Uber back home.

“I had a really good time tonight,” I say with a genuine smile.

“So did I,” Kurt says, before leaning in for a kiss- an action that causes me to involuntarily pull back. “I- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“

“No, no- I’M sorry,” I say, leaning into Kurt and giving him a long, soft kiss on his lips. My entire body feels like it’s going to shake itself apart for the duration of the kiss, and by the time our mouths separate, I’m almost hyperventilating.

“Can- can I get your, um, phone number, please?” Kurt asks.

“Sure,” I say, writing the number on a tissue from my purse. “I’ll, um, I’ll see you later, Kurt.” Both of us giggle as I give Kurt a gentle kiss on his cheek, before getting into my waiting taxi and letting out a long, slow breath as I’m driven home.

It’s only when I get home that it dawns on me that I may have inadvertently just got myself an actual boyfriend- even if Kurt was born female, he still identifies as male and therefore deserves to be treated like a man in much the same way I- or rather, ‘Stephanie- is treated like a woman. And he would inevitably be phenomenally angry if he finds out about the continued existence of Steve… Who I change into immediately upon returning home from work the following day, with Kayla in tow.

“Ugh, that just gets weirder and weirder,” Kayla complains as I stride down the stairs in my sweatshirt and jeans.

“Sorry,” I grimace. “If it’s any consolation, it’s feeling weirder and weirder…”

“Normally I’d say you should take that as a hint,” Kayla says. “But-“

“But no talk of any ‘decisions’, not with ‘Steve’, anyway,” I say as I relax down on the sofa, allowing my legs to spread as wide as they’ll go.

“No one wants to see that,” Kayla laughs, wincing as I scratch my crotch in a very un-ladylike way. “Especially not young Mr. Vance!”

“Ah yes, Kurt,” I say, wincing as the same ‘tingles’ I got last night return at the mere mention of his name.

“Huh, I thought the date went well?” Kayla asks.

“It did, that’s the problem,” I sigh. “I really do like him…”

“And when you say ‘you’ you of course mean ‘Stephanie’, right?” Kayla asks.

“I AM ‘Stephanie’,” I state firmly.

“I thought you were ‘Steve’?” Kayla asks, making me groan with frustration.

“Can- can we just play Halo, please?” I sigh. Kayla nods and picks up an Xbox controller to start playing, but we’re interrupted less than twenty minutes afterward by my phone ringing- and a glance at the caller ID causes me to gasp when I realise that it’s Kurt on the other end of the line.

“Hi Kurt!” I say in my ‘Stephanie’ voice. “How’s you?”

“Much happier after last night, heh!” The young Canadian man nervously chuckles. “I was, um, wondering if you, um, were doing anything tonight, if you wanted to maybe get something to eat, or watch TV together, or go somewhere-“

“I’d love to!” I say happily, before remembering the clothes I’m currently wearing. “But I am kinda in need of an early night, we’re working really hard at the moment rehearsing for the tour, you know?”

“No worries,” Kurt says. “Figured it was a bit last minute anyway.”

“I- I’m free all Saturday, if you want to do anything then?” I say, desperate not to disappoint my potential boyfriend.

“It’s a date!” Kurt laughs. “Umm, if you want to call it a date, of course…”

“It’s a date,” I say with a girlish giggle. “Text me when you’re free to meet up. See you Saturday, Kurt!”

“See you Saturday, Steph!” Kurt says, before ending the call.

“’Steph’s got a boyfriend’,” Kayla teases in a sing-song voice. “Or rather, ‘Steve’s got a boyfriend.” I grimace as Kayla points at the unexpected and unwelcome bulge in the front of my jeans, before sitting back down on the sofa, holding a cushion over my lap to hide my embarrassment. “You REALLY like him, then?”

“Ugh, I- I dunno,” I sigh. “I mean yes, we really, really clicked last night.”

“Did you kiss him?” Kayla asks.

“…Yes,” I sigh.

“And did you realise that with the ‘obvious exception’, you were being entirely feminine on the phone to him?” Kayla asks. “Not just your voice, you instantly switched to all feminine mannerisms, feminine body language, too.”

“I thought we agreed no psychoanalysis of ‘Steve’?” I ask.

“What ‘Steve’?” Kayla asks. “It’s obvious who you really are. ‘Steve’s just a remnant, an, an artefact you aren’t willing to put away yet.”

“I’ll never be willing to put ‘Steve’ away,” I say confidently.

“You’ll have to while we’re on tour,” Kayla says, making me groan with frustration again.

“This bloody tour…” I moan.

“No- just no,” Kayla says, pausing the game and staring at me. “Don’t fuck up this tour for me, or for any of the girls, Steph. Because as much as it’s your dream to be a woman, I’ve been dreaming about being a singer for as long as I can remember, and I am not letting anyone or anything ruin this for me- especially not some BOY who can’t decide who or what SHE really is!” I blink twice, taken completely aback by Kayla’s sudden hostility.

“Umm…” I mumble.

“Take the Xbox on the tour bus with you if you want,” Kayla says as she unpauses the game. “But when you play on it, you’d better be wearing make-up and a skirt!” I nod as I continue blasting away at aliens with Kayla before the tiny blonde girl leaves a few hours later. As my parents won’t be back until after I’ve gone to bed, I spend the rest of the night as ‘Steve’, but deep inside, all I can think about is Kurt… And those thoughts are all ‘Stephanie’s.

‘You know you like him really,’ I hear a familiar voice say in my mind- a voice that I quickly realise belongs to ‘Stephanie’.

‘I guess objectively, he’s nice,’ ‘Steve’ responds.

‘There’s no ‘objective’ to it,’ Stephanie laughs. ‘You both want him, and deep inside, you want to be me, you know you do.’

‘Then why can’t you let go of me?’ Steve asks, silencing the inner girl within me. ‘I’ll always be a part of you, just as you’ll always be a part of me.’

‘But whose ‘part’ will be bigger?’ Stephanie retorts. ‘After two weeks on the road, maybe you’ll be gone for good…’

I groan as I focus my mind, stopping the argument. ‘Steve’ is, of course, right- even if I fully transition, I’ll never be 100% female, not deep inside. But at the same time, ‘Stephanie’s also right- if I was a real man, she’d never have existed in the first place, let alone dominated my life in the way she has. As nice as he is, all Kurt’s done is complicated the decision further, blurring the already unclear line between ‘Steve’ and ‘Stephanie’.

Why is it, every time I think I’m getting close to an answer, it always end up further away from me than before?

“Thank you all!” Becca yells into her microphone to the screaming crowd as we all wave happily. “Thank you all so, so much!”

“Thank you Glasgow!” I scream into my microphone, taking several deep breaths (despite my tight clothing) to rest my tired voice.

“We love you all!” Lauren yells into the microphone, her long, ginger hair pinned to her face with sweat thanks to our two hour long concert- our tenth in twelve days, and thankfully, our last for the time being.

The second we reach our plush backstage dressing room, I dramatically collapse onto the nearest sofa, and within seconds, all of my bandmates follow suit.

“I could sleep for a MONTH,” Adeola groans.

“Make that a year,” Kayla laughs.

“You can stop complaining,” I tease the tiny blonde girl. “Miss ‘This is my dream’!”

“You can ALL stop complaining,” Becca says, stripping off her costume (which, like the rest of the band’s, consists of a tight leotard dress with a laced in waist over dark fishnet tights and extra-high platform stilettos). “We did it, didn’t we? Ten cities, most of which were sold out… We are going to be literally SWIMMING in money!”

“Says the daughter of a millionaire!” Lauren retorts, making Becca laugh.

“Yeah, but this money will be all MINE,” Becca says. “Earned through my own hard graft…”

“OUR own hard graft,” Kayla says. “We each did our own fair share of the work.”

“…And you’ll each get your fair share of the money,” Adeola says. “Yes, yes, I know, ‘says the adopted daughter of a millionaire’. But my uncle promised an equal split five ways, and if there’s one thing he despises, it’s dishonesty.”

“In the meantime,” Becca says, “it’s still Saturday night…”

“Really?” Kayla asks. “When we’re all exhausted?”

“And in Glasgow, of all places?” Lauren asks.

“We’re still young,” Becca shrugs. “The bus goes when we say it does, not the other way round.”

“And aren’t you desperate to get back to Riley?” I tease, making the other brown-haired girl roll her eyes.

“You’re one to talk, Steph!” Becca retorts. “Or should I say, ‘the future Mrs. Vance’?” I wince and blush as the other four girls all let out a loud, high-pitched ‘ooh’ at my expense.

“…Go out if you want,” I laugh, exchanging my costume for a comfortable (but very stylish) long-sleeved black minidress. “I’m knackered, I’m heading back to the bus.”

“Same here,” Kayla says.

“Stephanie and Kurt, sitting in a tree,” the other three girls sing. “F-U-C-“ I close the dressing room door behind me and take a deep breath before following the tiny eighteen year old back to our tour bus, where I crash down on my bunk and let out a long, tired sigh.

“Well,” Kayla giggles as she climbs into her own bunk. “We did it. Two weeks on the road… I’ll be honest, Steph- I honestly didn’t think you’d be able to do it. Umm, no offence, of course.”

“None taken,” I sigh. “I honestly didn’t think I’d be able to do it either.” And I genuinely didn’t. In the week leading up to the tour, it was like there wasn’t an hour that went past that I didn’t want to take my career, wrap all my girl clothes around it and throw it in the nearest bin. The thought of the tour terrified me… But what was most scary wasn’t the thought of singing and dancing live in front of thousands of fans, but rather the thought that I’d be cut off from ‘Steve’ for the first time ever.

And yet, once I was on the tour, everything seemed… Fine. As though this was what I was meant to be, as if ‘Stephanie’ was who I was meant to be. With Steve out of sight, ‘he’ was also out of mind, and for the past twelve days, it was as though I was never anyone other than Stephanie… But now that the tour is finished and we’re on our way home, all I can think about is climbing onto my sofa in a pair of baggy jeans and playing on my Xbox until my thumbs fall off.

Well… That’s not strictly true, relaxing and gaming isn’t ALL I’m thinking about- I’m also thinking about a certain ginger-haired Canadian man who used to be a ginger-haired Canadian woman. Every night, after a concert, I’d text him to let him know how the concert went, and he’d text me back to tell me about his day, and I’d lay awake reading his texts and giggling at his little jokes, like a teenaged girl giggling at her first crush- which, but for a few months of age, is what I technically am. Or rather, what I technically was for the past two weeks, as when I text Kurt tonight, the usual ‘tingles’ I get throughout my (still 100% chemically male) body are worryingly absent.

“Don’t need to ask who you’re texting, do I?” Kayla teases as she fiddles with her own smartphone.

“Indeed you don’t,” I reply, making my friend giggle.

“Stephanie and Kurt, sitting in a tree,” Kayla sings, only shutting up when I hurl a make-up removal pad at her.

“Might as well take my make-up off now,” I sigh, grabbing my make-up bag and sitting down in front of the bus’s small dressing table. “Give my face the chance to breathe in some of this Scottish air…”

“You know,” Kayla says, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen ‘Stephanie’ without any make-up on. Not awake, anyway”

“What are you talking about?” I ask. “You see ‘Steve’ plenty.”

“Yes, but I’m not talking about ‘Steve’,” Kayla retorts. “And don’t say ‘where’s the difference’, you know for a fact that there IS a difference.”

“…Fine,” I sigh, wiping off the last of my make-up and crashing down on my bunk, iPad in hand.

Less than an hour later, the other three girls return to the bus, catching myself and Kayla by surprise.

“What- what are you doing back so early?” I ask.

“Chill out, we were just more tired than we thought,” Lauren chuckles.

“As we found out when Addie yawned and nearly swallowed the entire club!” Becca giggles, earning a playful shove from her BFF. “Steph… Why exactly have your eyes gone as wide as dinner plates? Like, is my dress tucked into my knickers or something?”

“Steph is panicking,” Kayla teases, “because this is probably the first time any of you have seen HER without HER make-up on!”

“…And?” Adeola shrugs. “And no, Becca, your dress is covering your arse. Well, just about, anyway!”

“I deserved that,” Becca sighs. “And so what if you’ve got no make-up on? It’s not like, if you take off your make-up, you magically transform back into ‘Steve’, is it?”

“Well- no,” I say. “I guess not…”

“You’re plenty girly enough without all that slap on your face!” Lauren laughs, sitting down next to me and giving me a quick hug. “Personally, I can’t wait to get mine off too, give me my make-up bag, would you?”

“Sure,” Kayla says, handing Lauren the small leather pouch. “Oh my god, we should all have a no make-up group selfie!”

“Hell yeah!” Adeola giggles, grabbing her make-up bag and sitting down in front of the dressing table, making Lauren sigh with frustration.

“That’s an awesome idea!” Becca laughs. “Like, ‘Out of Heaven laid bare after their tour’!”

“As long as our faces are the only things that we ‘bare’!” Adeola says, making everyone laugh- even me, despite my no make-up-induced anxiety. Sure enough, twenty minutes later, the five of us have changed into our thick pyjamas (nights on the bus were NOT warm) and are taking it in turns to take photos of the group in our ‘natural’ state. Special attention is paid to my pink ankle socks (which were a birthday present from Kayla) and Becca and Adeola’s tiger-themed onesies- both of which look so comfortable, especially in the cold Scottish night.

Eventually, the time comes for us to get to bed- we’re being driven home overnight in our tour bus rather than stay in a hotel and travel in the morning, with the exception of Lauren, who’s travelling up to the Highlands to spend a couple of days with her family and as such changes back into her street clothes (but leaves her face make-up free) before jumping into a waiting taxi.

When I wake up on Sunday morning, the first slivers of daylight are already poking through the bus’s curtains, and I can already tell from the noise outside the bus that we are back home in London.

“Ugh, man, this feels so much better to be home,” Adeola says, before grimacing as she sees that I’ve woken up. “Ah, sorry Steph, I didn’t mean anything by ‘man’…”

“It’s okay,” I shrug. “Besides, didn’t you say last night that you don’t consider me to be a man?”

“Yeah, I know I did, but-“ Adeola says, before I cut her off.

“The fact that you’re apologising when you don’t need to is enough, really,” I laugh.

“Ooh,” Becca coos as she slowly wakes from her slumber. “Has Miss Benedict put her foot in yet it again?”

“Oh- shut up!” Adeola giggles, grabbing a pillow from her bunk and hurling it at Becca, who responds by hurling her own pillow back at Adeola.

Within seconds, I’ve been dragged into the pillow fight, and after our antics wake Kayla, she eagerly joins in too, targeting me in particular with all of her swings. I forget all about my stresses and my anxieties as Becca and Adeola assault me with their pillows, eventually tearing one of them open and spraying feathers all over the bus.

“My heavenly singers!” A familiar African voice booms from the bus door, immediately stopping the fight and putting a look of pure terror on Adeola’s face. She, Becca, Kayla and myself stand up and dust ourselves off as much as possible, though Becca’s pillow explosion has left my hair and my pyjamas covered in feathers.

“He- hello Uncle Joshua,” Adeola says in the guiltiest voice I have ever heard anyone use. The tall girl cringes as her uncle surveys the carnage with a look of pure fury on his face. “I- I can explain, um, we, um-“

“Relax!” Joshua shouts, breaking down in a hearty fit of laughter. “Girls will be girls- I’m surprised the bus made it back from Scotland at all!” The four of us laugh along with our manager, though I can’t help but notice Becca wrap an arm around Adeola’s shoulders, almost as if the dark-skinned girl was about to pass out.

“Most important of all,” Joshua says in a calm voice, “is that all of you are back in one piece. And much, much richer! The tour was an absolute success. We sold lots of tickets, sold lots of merchandise, the newspapers gave you all great reviews and my phone has been ringing off the hook, wanting to know when I can send you back out on tour!”

“Not for a while, I hope,” I say, earning quizzical stares from my bandmates. “I- I mean, I’m exhausted…”

“I don’t doubt it!” Joshua chuckles. “That’s why I’m giving you all- including Lauren- the next two weeks off. You’ve more than earned it! Go home, go for a weekend away with your gentlemen friends, do whatever you want- just make sure you’re back at work on the 11th, as we have another album to record!”

“And make sure you’re all at Charlotte’s on Wednesday,” Becca orders.

“As if I’d miss my BFF’s 21st!” Adeola giggles, giving Becca a tight squeeze.

“Just make sure you relax and have fun!” Joshua laughs. “And don’t eat too many Easter eggs!”

“No promises,” Adeola retorts, earning a playful laugh from her uncle as he leaves the bus.

“…Does he always wear a full suit at half past seven in the morning?” Kayla asks. “Or even half past six, as the clocks went forward yesterday…”

“It’s Easter Sunday, he’s probably going to church,” Adeola shrugs. “I, on the other hand, am going to follow his quote-unquote order and go home, relax, and have fun.”

“And I,” Becca says with a smug grin, “am going to go to Riley’s home and spend, oh, the next six hours having a LOT of ‘fun’!”

“Kayla,” Adeola asks, “you heading back to Southampton today to see your folks?”

“Probably later on,” Kayla says. “Want to get unpacked first, have the chance to relax a bit…”

“Same here,” I say, briefly locking eyes with Kayla who subtly nods at my unspoken request. “Just, you know, ‘relax’…”

“When you say ‘relax’,” Adeola teases, “is that with or without covering your body in maple syrup?”

“Oh- shut up,” I sigh as I strip off my pyjamas and change into a cute pleated miniskirt, a tight black top, black tights and my favourite knee-high boots. “I don’t even know if Kurt’s free today.”

“He will be when he sees Steffieboots for the first time in two weeks!” Adeola laughs. “You have fun, Steph, and I mean ‘fun’ as well as, you know, ‘fun’. See you Wednesday!”

“Yeah, see you,” I say, giving Adeola and Becca tight hugs each as they get off the bus.

“God, I am actually going to miss this bus,” Kayla laughs as she gazes longingly at her bunk. “…But I missed my flat more, hehe! Come on- I’m guessing you want to come home with me because Kurt isn’t the only man you missed?”

“You guess right,” I sigh, following Kayla to a waiting taxi whilst our suitcases are loaded into a nearby van for delivery to our respective homes.

As she steps through the front door of her flat (the same flat that used to be my home), Kayla lets out a long, satisfied sigh and plops down onto the sofa, stretching the tiredness out of her short legs. I grin before taking off my boots and sitting down next to Kayla, who simply stares at me with a quizzical look on her face.

“Umm…” Kayla chuckles. “Wasn’t ‘Steve’ supposed to be joining us today?”

“Gimme a few minutes,” I laugh, sighing happily as I rub my nylon-covered feet together.

“…Or if you’d prefer to stay ‘Steph’ for the foreseeable future, that’s also more than okay!” Kayla says with a smug grin.

“Okay, okay, point taken,” I sigh, standing up and heading into the bathroom, where I carefully remove every item of clothing I’m wearing and scrub my face free of make-up and remove the nail polish from my finger- and toenails, leaving them colour-free for the first time in two weeks. Once I’m completely ‘natural’, I reach into the carrier bag Kayla and I stashed in the bathroom before we left for our tour (having known in advance that Lauren wouldn’t be coming back to London with us). Inside it is a pair of plain grey boxer shorts, a baggy striped sweater, a pair of thick black men’s socks and one of my favourite pairs of jeans.

With each item of ‘Steve’s clothes that I pull on, I feel the boy that I used to be come more and more to the surface, as though he was being freed from a prison, and once I’m fully dressed, I look in the mirror, and it’s as though ‘Stephanie’ never existed. I feel free, truly free in a way I never did when I was away on tour… And yet the sight of ‘Steve’ in the bathroom mirror still feels somehow wrong.

‘This can’t last’, the voice of ‘Stephanie’ says in my head. ‘This isn’t who you are. Not anymore. When are you going to accept that?’

‘I have as much right to exist as you do,’ ‘Steve’ replies. I take a deep breath, clearing my mind and silencing the internal conflict, before heading back into the living room where Kayla greets me with a sad smile.

“Hello again, ‘Steve’,” Kayla sighs. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah,” I say in my masculine voice. “I really, really do.” Kayla smiles and nods, though it’s clear that she’s as unconvinced as I am. We spend the rest of the morning gaming- Kayla having bought herself an Xbox AND a Nintendo after our many gaming sessions at my house- and after a quick lunch, I help Kayla with the tedious task of unpacking her suitcases, many of which contain various gifts and goodies we were given on the tour.

“I swear,” Kayla giggles as she massages her sore arms, “my wrist is going to take weeks to recover from all those autographs we signed!”

“You’d have thought that selfies would’ve meant that no one wants autographs anymore,” I laugh. “Fans can let their arms get tired, not ours…”

“Meh, whatever,” Kayla says. “The price of fame, heh!” I nod and open my mouth to speak, but am interrupted by the sound of Kayla’s front doorbell ringing.

“Umm… Did you order a pizza?” I ask.

“No,” Kayla says, scrunching up her nose with confusion as she heads toward the front door and peers through the spyhole. “Shit!” The tiny blonde girl whispers. “It’s Kurt!”

“Wh-what?” I ask. “How?”

“I don’t know, do I?” Kayla replies. “Did you tell him you were here?”

“…I may have put on Facebook that I was chilling with you for a bit…” I mumble, making Kayla roll her eyes.

“Well go and get changed,” the tiny girl orders. “Quick!” I nod and head into the bathroom, stripping off ‘Steve’s clothes without a second thought and pulling ‘Stephanie’s clothes back on, before applying my usual level of make-up and repainting my nails a deep red colour. Kayla answers the door, having obviously decided that she couldn’t stall any longer, and my panic levels begin to rise as I brush out my hair from its androgynous ‘Steve’ style to my trademark ‘Stephanie’ style.

“Oh, hey Kurt,” Kayla says. “Stephanie’s just in the bathroom, she should be out soon.”

“That’s okay,” Kurt says, his gentle Canadian accent making my heart flutter. “Must be the effect I have on her, heh!” I take a deep breath and spritz myself with my favourite perfume before flushing the toilet and exiting the bathroom, involuntarily grinning the second my eyes meet my boyfriend’s.

“Hey you,” I giggle, wrapping my arms around Kurt’s neck and giving him a slow kiss.

“Hey, me!” Kurt replies, making me giggle even louder. “I really missed you the last couple of weeks…”

“I missed you too,” I say, my voice still barely coherent through giggling.

“Don’t mind me,” Kayla laughs. “I’ll just stand here like a third wheel…”

“God, sorry, sorry,” Kurt laughs. “Just a bit excited to see my favourite girl again!”

“I can tell you’re BOTH excited,” Kayla giggles, watching me squirm as my underwear suddenly becomes VERY tight. “Want a cup of tea?”

“Please,” Kurt says as we head to the sofa, where we plop down together and stay for the rest of the evening with my body resting against his. By the time Kurt leaves just after 6:30pm, any and all thoughts of ‘Steve’ have been completely expunged from my brain- and I’m not the only one who realises that.

“So…” Kayla teases. “Still want more ‘Steve time’ before going back to your parents’ home?”

“Nope,” I reply. “Not a second. It’s like… Every second I’m with Kurt is an HOUR I’m comfortable being ‘Stephanie’…”

“GOOD,” Kayla laughs. “I know I’ve said this before loads of times, but the sooner you put ‘Steve’ behind you, the happier you’ll be.”

“…You’re right,” I say, eliciting a small gasp from Kayla. “It IS time I stopped pretending.”

“R-really?” Kayla asks.

“Really,” I say. “And it’s not just Kurt, it’s the tour, too… I’ve spent twenty years fantasising about being a woman, and now I am, fantasising about being a man again… It’s just ungrateful. It’s not fair on Kurt, it’s not fair on you and the band… And it’s not fair on me. If I never be a boy for the rest of my life- well, I can live with that.”

“Oh my god!” Kayla squeaks, giving me a tight hug. “So are you going to get hormones from your counsellor? Are you going to get surgery?”

“I need to talk it over with my counsellor first!” I chuckle. “She’s said she needs to be convinced that I genuinely want to transition before she’ll give me hormones so it might not happen immediately.”

“Well than I’ll just have to go with you to convince her, won’t I?” Kayla giggles. “This is gonna be so cool!”

“Yeah,” I laugh. “I’ll finally be able to stop lying…”

I have a smile on my face for the rest of the evening, which persists even as I return home and am ambushed by a tight bear hug the second I step through the front door.

“Welcome home, superstar sister!” Danny yells, making me yelp in terror as he threatens to squeeze the life out of me.

“Daniel!” Mum snaps. “Put your sister down!”

“What?” Danny protests as he releases me. “I’m just excited to see Steph, that’s all!”

“So are we,” dad chuckles, giving me a tight hug (though nowhere near as tight as Danny’s).

“We followed your tour on the internet,” mum says with obvious pride in her voice. “You were so brilliant! All five of you were. The websites and newspapers were giving you all great reviews.”

“Yeah, Joshua was really happy with it,” I say. “I reckon he’s going to send us on another tour before the end of the year.”

“Cool,” Danny chuckles. “I can expect an extra-special Christmas present from my extra-rich sister, then?”

“Oh- shut up,” I sigh. “And if you’ve eaten any of my Easter eggs…”

“As if I’d dare,” Danny laughs, leading me to the sofa where I find a small pile of the fancy confectionery.

“It’s not as many as you usually get,” mum says. “Now that you’re a superstar, you need to watch your waistline!”

“Yeah, I guess,” I laugh. My special diet is certainly a negative aspect of choosing to live full-time as a woman, but it’s a very small price to pay to be happy and successful.

“And it’s not as many as you usually get as I took one as payment for putting away all your clothes,” dad chuckles. “Like I didn’t already have a full time job, heh… Stephanie, love, when I was up there putting away your clothes, I- I found a drawer full of boy’s clothes, you know, ‘Steve’s clothes…” My eyes go wide and I’m gripped by a moment of panic as I realise that dad’s found my stash. 24 hours ago, this would’ve meant a full-blown meltdown at the possibility of never being Steve again, but now that I’ve come to terms with that…

“Huh, we must’ve missed a drawer when we were clearing out the room,” I shrug. “A more important question is, why were you snooping through my drawers?”

“Ooh,” Danny coos, earning a playful slap on the back of his head from our father.

“I told you she’d be unhappy,” mum says.

“Fine then, she can put her own stuff away in the future,” dad snorts. “And can arrive at the same time as her luggage next time, too!”

“Assuming she’s still living here after the next tour,” mum says. “With how rich you’re getting, you must surely be thinking about getting your own place again, right?”

“With this ‘Kurt’ guy we hear so much about but see so little of?” Danny teases, earning another slap on the head from me.

“When ARE we going to meet this boyfriend of yours?” Mum asks.

“Soon, I promise,” I sigh.

“Is there any reason we haven’t met him already?” Dad asks. Yes, I think to myself. Because I was just stringing him along, pretending to be his girlfriend to keep up the ‘illusion’ of Stephanie, but now I genuinely have feelings for him…

“You mean other than the fact that I’ve been on tour for a fortnight?” I reply after a brief pause, making everyone in the room laugh.

“Touché, touché,” dad laughs.

“What time’s dinner going to be ready?” Danny asks, clasping his hands behind his head as he sees our mother winding up to give him yet another slap on the back of the head.

“20 minutes,” mum says. “And thanks for volunteering to do the washing up, Danny!”

“Is Tom coming?” Danny asks, and immediately I feel my entire body tensing up as I remember that most of my life is now perfectly adapted to ‘Stephanie’… But there’s still one very important part of it that isn’t.

“Not today,” mum whispers. “He’s said he might drop round tomorrow or Tuesday.”

“Okay,” Danny says. “As long as he doesn’t plan on dropping round on Wednesday, Steph and I are kinda busy that day!”

“What do you mean, ‘Steph and I’?” I ask.

“Your friend’s birthday party?” Danny replies.

“I think Stephanie’s asking about the ‘and I’ part, not the ‘Steph’ part,” dad chuckles.

“It’s a beauty pageant, they need judges,” Danny shrugs, making me groan.

“It’s a PRETEND beauty pageant, we all know in advance Becca’s going to win,” I retort.

“Oh, let your brother have some fun,” mum says, bringing a scowl to my face and a smug grin to Danny’s. “I’d have thought you’d be pleased that Danny gets on well with your friends.”

“At what point during the two of us growing up together did you get the impression that we should spend MORE time hanging out?” I ask.

“At the point you became brother and sister instead of brother and brother,” dad says.

“And besides,” Danny asks. “What would you have preferred, me reacting like Tom did, or me reacting like I did?”

“…Reacting like you did,” I sigh. “…Jerk.”

“Exactly,” Danny says, his grin wider and smugger than ever. “Also, Stuart likes having me around as it means that he’s not the only guy who’s under six feet tall.”

“And you- you know there’s a reason that Stuart’s shorter than average for a man, right?” I ask.

“Same reason your boyfriend’s also short, right?” Danny asks, making my jaw drop. “Some people are born the wrong gender. We get told we have to get over it, so I have got over it. Tom will too. It’s just a matter of time. Now come on, I’m starving!”

“Yeah,” I laugh as I follow my family through to the kitchen for our rich Easter dinner.

Danny is, of course, right- I’d much rather have two brothers irritating than me than one brother refusing to acknowledge my existence. However, whilst Danny has always been the light-hearted, frivolous jerk I know (and love), Tom has always been more serious, more rigid in his views and his opinions, possibly because of his time in the army. When we were growing up, though, this meant that Tom was more protective of me, looking out for me more than Danny did. Hell, most of the time Tom was looking out for me against Danny, even though they were closer to each other than they were to me. And yet, thanks to ‘Stephanie’, I feel further away from Tom than I have at any point during my life.

As I climb into bed just after 11pm, I find that my desire to become Stephanie full-time- which was absolute just a few hours ago- is wavering, as I stare longingly at the drawer that used to contain the last traces of ‘Steve’…

My alarm goes off at 7:30am, and I have a mile-wide smile on my face as I switch it off and close my eyes, not making even the slightest effort to get out of my warm, cosy bed. Normally, Mondays mean ballet, but with it being a Bank Holiday, and Joshua giving the band two weeks off, I intend to use this time to relax as much as I possibly can. I ultimately slide out of bed just after 9:45am and take a long, cleansing shower before dressing for the day in a pair of black leggings, a very soft long-sleeved red top and a slouchy denim miniskirt. As I straighten my leggings, I can’t help but feel that as cosy and as casual as my clothes are, a pair of baggy jeans and a loose sweatshirt would still be more comfortable…

“Morning, superstar!” Mum says as I crash in my usual spot on the living room sofa. “Got anything planned for today?”

“The usual,” I say, grabbing my Xbox controller as mum rolls her eyes.

“All this fame and fortune…” mum laughs. “Would have thought that- and the more obvious change- would’ve helped you mature a bit. Obviously not, heh.”

“I’m still the same old me,” I say. “Like I’ve explained before, just because I like wearing skirts doesn’t mean I don’t like some of the stuff ‘Steve’ liked.”

“Yes, yes,” mum sighs. “Are you seeing any of your friends today?”

“We’ve just spent two weeks cooped up together on a bus,” I chuckle. “Think we need our own space for a bit. Besides, we’ll see each other on Wednesday. Today is going to be a day of pure, total relaxation.”

“And you wouldn’t prefer to relax, say, at a spa, or getting your nails done?” Mum asks.

“It’s a bank holiday, nowhere’s open,” I retort.

“You wouldn’t prefer to hang out with Kurt?” Mum asks, making me pause my game and think briefly.

“I don’t think he even likes videogames,” I say, smiling slyly as mum groans with frustration.

“Well, it’s your free time, I suppose,” mum laughs. “I’m heading out to work in a bit, help yourself to breakfast and lunch, your father will be back just after 3. I think he said he’d be bringing Danny with him… And Tom might be dropping round too.” I again pause my game as I try to digest this information, but I quickly resume playing- Tom’s used to seeing me playing on my Xbox, if he sees this when he drops round, maybe it’ll help him adapt more easily to ‘Stephanie’.

Sure enough, I spend all morning and most of the afternoon gaming, only pausing briefly to eat breakfast and lunch, and I’m still playing when the front door opens and my father walks through, accompanied by the younger of my two brothers.

“Oh cool, Halo!” Danny chuckles, picking up another game controller. “This the newest one?”

“Yep,” I say. “Want to jump in for some co-op?”

“Hi dad!” Dad says, making me roll my eyes.

“Hi dad,” I say as Danny joins me in my gaming session. “Good day at work?”

“Same as usual,” dad says. “Get the usual bank holiday callouts, you know the drill.”

“Is- is Tom with you?” I ask nervously.

“He’ll be round later,” dad says. “After dinner.”

“Okay,” I whisper.

“Do- do you want to text one of your friends, see if they want to drop round?” Danny asks. “Don’t want you being outnumbered 3-1 by guys, mum won’t be home until after midnight…”

“It’ll be fine,” I sigh. It’s not like I can call on anyone anyway- Kayla’s down in Southampton, Lauren’s still in Scotland, all my friends who ARE London based are busy with their families or boyfriends… The only person I could possibly call on is Kurt, and that only make the ‘outnumbering’ worse, even though I know he’d be on my side…

“I’m going to order takeout,” dad says. “You two okay splitting a pizza?”

“A better question would be,” Danny teases, “is Stephanie’s manager okay with her eating any amount of pizza?”

“You are SO dead,” I say, refocusing my attention on the game and putting several bullets straight in the head of Danny’s character.

I do eat a small amount of pizza when it arrives as a treat to myself, but my main evening meal is, as always, the nutritious dish laid out in the band’s dietician’s food plan. After dinner, I relax on the sofa, but my relaxation is replaced by nerves thirty short minutes later when a loud knock comes from the front door. I tremble with nerves as dad answers the door, and returns to the living room with the older of my two brothers, who stares at me with a completely blank expression on his face.

“Alright, mate?” Danny asks.

“Hi Danny,” Tom replies, sitting down in his usual chair opposite me and triggering an awkward pause.

“…Hi Steph!” Danny says, making Tom roll his eyes.

“Thomas…” Dad says in a stern voice.

“Okay, ‘hello Steph’,” Tom sighs.

“Hi Tom,” I say in the feminine voice that has become my normal, natural voice, but which makes my brother cringe.

“You been at work today?” Danny asks our brother.

“Nah, just hanging out with Amanda,” Tom replies.

“She didn’t feel like coming round?” Dad asks.

“And be outnumbered by us guys?” Tom asks.

“3-2’s hardly outnumbered,” Danny snorts.

“No, but 4-1 is,” Tom says, making Danny groan and me sigh.

“Tom, Tom, Tom,” Danny moans. “Face facts. ‘Steve’ no longer exists. You and I have a sister called ‘Stephanie’ or ‘Steph’.”

“When did you become so- so-“ Tom snorts.

“So… What?” Danny asks. “So tolerant? So understanding? So accepting?”

“So deluded,” Tom says.

“THOMAS!” Dad snaps.

“What!?” Tom pleads. “Look at quote-unquote her, she doesn’t even look like a woman!”

“She’s got long hair,” Danny retorts. “She’s wearing make-up, jewellery and a skirt. Looks womanly to me.”

“Tom,” dad says in a firm but calm voice. “People change their gender all the time. Your sister- SISTER- made the decision that she wasn’t able to live life as a man anymore. Not only is she living life as a woman, but she’s living a successful one.”

“She’s easily the highest earner of any of us,” Danny says. “Probably more than all three of us put together. And she wouldn’t be earning that money if she was still a man.”

“…Fine,” Tom sighs. “I can see I’m the minority here.”

“If by ‘minority’ you mean ‘person who can’t see a bloody fact when it hits them in the face’…” Danny spits.

“Daniel!” Dad snaps. “That’s enough. Tom, I think you owe your sister an apology.”

“…I’m sorry… Steph,” Tom says, though it’s clear from the tone of his voice and from his body language that his apology is far from sincere.

“Apology accepted,” I say, before dad quickly changes the topic. Tom loosens up a little before leaving two hours later, though as he leaves, the way he looks at me- and makes a point of NOT hugging me, despite me holding my arms out- tells me that I still have a long way to go before he’ll accept me as his sister.

As I head to bed, I’m even less certain than I was last night that I want to become ‘Stephanie’ on a permanent basis- though I am reassured by the fact that no matter what happens, I’ll always have the support of Danny and my parents. If only they didn’t have to go against another member of the family in order to support me…

I again take pleasure in switching off my alarm when it goes off at 7:30, though last night’s confrontation prevents me from getting any more sleep, and I eventually get up just after 8:15 anyway, taking care not to disturb mum as I shower and dress in a plain striped top, opaque black tights and the same skirt I wore yesterday.

I spend the next couple of hours catching up on my social media pages before mum gets up at 10am and heads downstairs for breakfast, giving me a quick hug as she heads into the kitchen.

“So,” mum asks. “How did it go last night, with Tom?”

“Horrifically bad,” I sigh, making mum groan.

“I didn’t raise that boy to be a bigot,” mum spits. “Nor did I raise him to abandon his family just because he doesn’t agree with their choices!”

“I think he WILL come round eventually,” I say. “It’s just- I dunno. You, dad and Danny came round so easily, it’s just frustrating that Tom, of all people…”

“He WILL come round,” mum says, giving me another hug. “I’ll make sure he does. Now, what are you going to do today? And don’t even think of touching your Xbox, it’s not good for you to be cooped up inside all day!”

“Nor is it good for me to spend all day being hounded by fans,” I sigh, before withering under my mother’s stare. “…I’ll see if any of my friends are free.”

“Maybe you should talk to that Jamie girl,” mum says. “You know, the one who’s your sort-of mentor? She could give you tips on how to deal with reluctant family members?”

“Maybe,” I say, though inwardly I shiver- the last thing I need right now is to have Jamie scrutinising every single thing I do. However, she and I aren’t the only transgendered members of our ‘extended family’, and I quickly open up Facebook and browse to the profile of another one of my friends, shooting them off a quick message. An hour later, I’m sat at a table with two other young women, both of whom have wide, genuine smiles on their faces.

“Thanks for agreeing to come to lunch,” I say to the young couple as they squeezes each other’s hand.

“Believe me, it’s OUR pleasure, hehe!” Sarah giggles.

“So…” Nikki teases. “How was the tour? It must have been SO awesome, having thousands of fans screaming your name everywhere you go!”

“THAT part was great,” I laugh. “I signed so many autographs…”

“Ugh, SO jealous,” Sarah laughs.

“What was it you wanted to talk about, Steph?” Nikki asks. “Your message sounded like you wanted to discuss something important…”

“It’s- it’s about the whole, you know, ‘you and me’ thing…” I say.

“You’ve been transitioning for well over a year,” Nikki laughs. “And you’re also older than I am… There can’t really be any advice I can give that you don’t already know, right?”

“You’d have thought,” I sigh. Normally, I’d feel guilty discussing my non-existent transition with someone as committed to her transition as Nikki is, but despite my confrontation with Tom, I’m still determined to make Stephanie a permanent part of my life- and I still consider both Nikki and Sarah to be close friends.

“It’s my brother,” I moan. “Not Danny, the one who sometimes comes to Saturday night and to our parties, but the other one, the older one, Tom… He’s completely resistant to my change, still sees me as a boy.”

“Ugh,” Nikki spits. “I’m sorry, Steph, I don’t mean to be nasty, but- ugh! Can’t stand closed-minded people.”

“So, do you- do you have any, you know, tips?” I ask.

“The only real advice I can give is to talk it through,” Nikki sighs.

“You- you see my mum, don’t you?” Sarah asks. “As your counsellor, I mean?”

“Who, Beverly?” I reply. “Yeah, seeing her tomorrow, actually, after ballet.”

“It might be worth seeing if you can take your brother along to that meeting as well,” Sarah says.

“Worked for your parents, didn’t it?” Nikki asks. As far as you know, I think to myself as I remember the lie I told regarding my ‘reconciliation’ with my parents.

“Either way, you’re not going to get anywhere just running away from the problem,” Sarah says. “But at the same time, try to be gentle, okay?”

“You’re right,” I say. “Both of you. I know he’ll be at work tomorrow when I’m seeing your mum… He should be free tonight, though. I’ll talk to him then, brother to sister.”

“Good luck,” Nikki whispers with a wide, supportive smile. “Now come on, tell us about this tour! Your bus looked SO awesome!”

“Your costumes, too!” Sarah giggles. “The fashion designer in me NEEDS to know what that fabric was that you wore in Birmingham!” I giggle as I try to answer the two teenagers’ questions about the tour, before leaving the café an hour later feeling slightly more confident about my relationship with my brother.

I head home to spend more time catching up with my fans on Facebook and Twitter (and, much to my mum’s chagrin, playing on my Xbox), and after a quick dinner, I announce to my dad (who had just returned from work) that I’m heading out.

“Steph…” Dad says as I grab my coat and head for the door. “Are- are you going to see Tom?”

“…Yes,” I sigh.

“He needs time, Steph,” dad says. “Give him some space, he will come round eventually, I promise! I’ll make him if he doesn’t!”

“That’s part of the problem,” I say. “I barely got a word in edgeways, didn’t get a chance to explain the situation yesterday… If I sit down with him one-on-one, I know I can reach him.”

“Well- okay,” dad sighs. “But I’m calling him after you’ve gone, letting him know you’re on your way round, okay?”

“Not like I can stop you,” I say. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Take care, Steph,” dad says as I head out of the door and into the waiting taxi. “And good luck!” I take several deep breaths to compose myself as the black cab weaves through the narrow streets of London, soon arriving at the modest flat that my oldest brother calls his own. After taking one final, calming breath, I knock on his door, and get the surprise of my life when the door is answered by a female face.

“Um, hello?” The woman- who looks about 30, the same age as Tom- asks. “Can I help you?”

“I’m here to see Tom, Tom Abbott,” I say. “This- this is his flat, right?”

“Tom!” The woman yells. “There’s a young woman here to see you?” I grimace as the penny drops- this woman is clearly Tom’s girlfriend, and I’ve inadvertently just got him in a LOT of trouble…

“Who- you,” Tom sighs as he sees me at his door. “Dad said you were on your way over. Well, come in, I guess. Ste- Stephanie, this is Amanda, Amanda, this is Stephanie… My sister.”

“I- I thought you said you had two brothers?” Amanda asks as she greets me with a light handshake.

“I DID,” Tom sighs. “’Stephanie’ used to be ‘Stephen’, and-“

“Oh my god, ‘Stephanie Abbott’?” Amanda suddenly exclaims, and a grin creeps across my face- it’s not hard to figure exactly where she’s heard the name ‘Stephanie Abbott’ before, even if she is a lot older than most of our fans.

“Yes, yes, that’s me,” I giggle.

“Tom, you never said you were the brother of a celebrity!” Amanda giggles. “I’m sorry, but I have a fourteen year old niece, and she is a huge fan of you and your group!”

“Cool!” I laugh. “If you let me know her name I’ll happily send you a goodie bag of signed merchandise, if you want?”

“Ah, that would put me in her good books forever if you could!” Amanda says.

“What are you doing here, Steph?” Tom asks, clearly irritated by the girlish enthusiasm of our conversation.

“I’m here to see you,” I say bluntly. “To talk to you, as let’s face it: last night didn’t go well.”

“No it didn’t,” Tom concedes. “Come on, come into the kitchen, we’ll talk.”

“I’ll give you two some privacy,” Amanda says, heading back to the living room whilst I sit down opposite Tom at his kitchen table.

“So… Really, Steve?” Tom asks.

“’Steph’,” I say. “Stephanie is legally my name."

“Just- what makes you want to be a woman?” Tom asks. “I get that it’s not a snap decision, it’s something you must have dealt with your whole life, but- you must be able to see it from my perspective, surely?”

“In a way,” I say. “But it’s my life, my decision. I don’t need your understanding, Tom, I just need your support… And your love.”

“Well- okay, yes,” Tom sighs. “You’ll always have THAT. And I suppose I can always hit you up for a loan, heh.”

“Of course,” I laugh. “Didn’t realise just how much I’d be earning when I applied.”

“Hang on, hang on,” Tom says, a look of confusion spreading across his face. “When, exactly, did you apply to be in the band?”

“Umm, last February,” I say. “Why, exactly?”

“And you started work… The start of March last year?” Tom asks.

“Yes…” I say.

“So last year,” Tom says. “Last May, my birthday… You were there dressed as a man.”

“Umm… I guess?” I ask. “I, uh, I hadn’t come out to mum and dad yet-“

“In fact,” Tom continues, “mum and dad said you didn’t move out until the middle of March. So how, exactly, did you manage to be a woman at work, but a man at home, hmm?”

“Because- by-“ I stammer, before lowering my head and sighing. “Because I hadn’t started transitioning when I applied for the role in the band. In fact… I still haven’t.”

“You WHAT!?” Tom yells.

“It’s my life, and I’ll live it however I want,” I say.

“Oh, I get that,” Tom says. “I’d just about come to terms with having a sister, but knowing that she- he- whatever, knowing that your whole life is built on a lie?”

“Keep your voice down!” I hiss. “Yes, it was a lie at first, but it’s genuine now! I am going to transition, I am going to be a woman full-time. This IS what I really want.”

“I’m sure you’ve convinced yourself of that, but you’ll have to work harder to convince me,” Tom snorts. “When did you decide this, anyway?”

“…Sunday,” I sigh, making Tom groan once again.

“God, Steph- Steve- I don’t care!” Tom snaps. “What, exactly, is the matter with you?”

“I- I don’t know,” I whimper. “I’d been unemployed for so long, I loved dressing up as a woman, I loved singing, I was good at it, it all seemed so right, like it was meant to be…”

“You’ve strung everyone along,” Tom spits. “Myself included. I bet this ‘boyfriend’ of yours doesn’t know the truth either, does he?”

“…No,” I sigh, blinking back tears.

“Whatever you call yourself,” Tom says, “whatever you are, or whatever you want to be, you need to take a good, long look at yourself. Because if this ever gets out, you are going to cause a LOT of chaos.”

“Please, please don’t tell…” I plead.

“No, of course I won’t,” Tom sighs. “Whatever you decide, I’ll support you. I’ll try, anyway- I’m going to hard a hard time, a really hard time believing you from now on.”

“I understand,” I whisper.

“Are you okay getting home?” Tom asks in a quiet voice.

“I’ll- I’ll get a taxi,” I say. “I’ll get the stuff to Amanda for her niece later in the week.”

“Yet more people you’re deceiving,” Tom says. “Your fans… For their sake, I hope the truth NEVER comes out.”

“Me too,” I whisper as I head out onto the street and wait for my Uber car to arrive and drop me back at home.

Once I’m home, I head up to my bedroom and strip off my clothes, reaching into my ‘Steve’ drawer and having a moment of panic when I discover that it’s empty, before remembering the events of two days ago. I lay down on my bed and slowly cry as the reality of Tom’s word hit home. I AM a liar, I AM a fraud, my- or rather, ‘Stephanie’s whole life has been built on deception. My current feelings regarding transitioning can’t change my actions over the past year. If my parents ever find out the truth, they’ll be livid, if Joshua ever finds out the truth, he’ll go ballistic, and if the fans…

And yet, when I got home today, all I could think about was stripping away ‘Stephanie’ and spending time as ‘Steve’ to try to ease my anxieties. Tom’s not alone- I’M going to have a hard time believing me from now on.

Despite getting an early night, I barely get any sleep, and when my alarm wakes me at 7:30am I groan loudly, knowing that today is the only day all week when I won’t be able to simply click it off and go back to sleep. After showering and applying my make-up, I reach into my top drawer and pull out a pair of soft, baby pink tights and a snug black tank leotard, stretching both garments over the foundation garments that are ‘enhancing’ my body before covering up with a long-sleeved grey top and a tight black miniskirt. Despite my anxieties, I have a smile on my face as I arrive at the vast dance studio just before 9am- the more I do ballet, the better I get at it, and the better I get at it, the more I enjoy it. It of course helps that being able to wear tights and a leotard in public (or at the very least, amongst peers) was a childhood dream of mine, though I’m questioning whether or not that dream was even genuine.

“Hey, birthday girl!” I giggle as I greet Becca- whose leotard has had a large, sequinned ‘21’ sewn onto the front- with a tight hug.

“Thanks!” Becca squeaks excitedly.

“Happy birthday!” The leotard-clad Lauren and Kayla giggle, also greeting Becca with tight hugs.

“So…” Lauren asks. “Get anything nice today?”

“A big, fat trust fund!” Becca laughs. “Even that isn’t as huge as I’d thought it would be, not compared to our pay cheques, anyway!”

“Get anything nice from Riley?” Kayla asks, prompting loud ‘ooh’s from all the girls- myself included.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Becca teases with a sly wink as we- and the other girls present- are ushered into the dance studio. As always, Becca and Adeola dance in the ‘main class’ with Krystie, whilst Lauren, Kayla and I receive specialist tuition from Zoe (who can work closer with us than usual as none of her friends are present this morning). At the end of the class, as has become a tradition, I watch with a smile on my face as Becca exchanges her leotard for a frilly pink tutu- the same one I myself wore two months ago- and dances a two-minute long routine in her pointe shoes as the assembled class applauds.

After the class, I pull my skirt and top back on and get ready to head out, though I can’t help but giggle at Becca’s seeming reluctance to take off the ostentatious tutu, much like my reluctance on my own birthday. If it was my birthday today, however, and I was wearing the tutu now, I’m not so sure I’d be so eager to keep wearing it instead of, say, a comfortable pair of jeans…

“Tell mum I said hi!” Sarah says as I pass her en route to my waiting taxi, which whisks me away to the office of Dr Beverly Phillips- Sarah’s mother and my counsellor.

“Hello Stephanie,” Beverly says as I sit down in one of her plush chairs. “I read the reviews of your tour on the internet, it looks like everything went well!”

“It did,” I laugh. “And then I came home…”

“Oh,” Beverly says, sensing the uncertainty in my voice. “And then things didn’t go quite as well, right?”

“Right,” I sigh. “I- I kinda had a falling out with Tom.”

“Your brother?” Beverly asks.

“Yeah,” I sigh. “I mean, Sunday morning, I get back, I change into ‘Steve’s clothes, but then Kurt- my boyfriend- calls, and suddenly, it’s like I never need to be Steve again. I actually made a mental note at that exact point to come and ask you for hormones today.”

“And then what happened?” Beverly asks. “With your brother, I mean.”

“I- I told him the truth,” I sigh. “He came around on Monday and barely acknowledged me, so I went to see him last night, he put two and two together, and… Gah. Bad things happened.”

“Go on,” Beverly says softly.

“He basically called me a liar, a fraud…” I say. “He said he wouldn’t tell anyone about what I’ve done, but… I feel like I AM a fraud. Like my feelings, my desires…”

“You’re wondering whether or not you genuinely want to transition?” Beverly asks. “Whether or not what you felt on Sunday was real?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

“Obviously, only you will be able to definitively answer that question,” Beverly says, making me sigh yet again. “I doubt it’s a coincidence that this desire suddenly came on after you spent time with Kurt.”

“Probably not,” I concede.

“And you’d just spent two weeks on the road, cut off from your life as ‘Steve’,” Beverly continues. “The first thing you do when you get home? You dress as ‘Steve’ again.”

“I genuinely, honestly want to be Stephanie full time,” I say, though even I can tell I sound far from convincing.

“I don’t doubt that you yourself believe that,” Beverly says.

“Tom said the same thing, and with the same subtext,” I sigh. “And I’ll be honest… I’m not as sure today as I was on Sunday.”

“You can understand, then, why I won’t prescribe you oestrogen today,” Beverly says. “Though you HAVE shown that you can spend a prolonged period of time as ‘Stephanie’ without the need to return to being ‘Steve’- from the tour- and that, as far as I’m concerned, is a step in the right direction.”

“So… I could be prescribed oestrogen at some point in the future?” I ask.

“Not the immediate future,” Beverly says. “Not until I’m certain that you’re certain. But I’m definitely not ruling it out. You need to work through this thing with Tom first. And more importantly, you need to work through this thing with ‘Steve’.”

“I know,” I sigh. “I just- I just don’t want to lie to everyone anymore.”

“Concentrate on not lying to yourself first,” Beverly advises. “Everyone else can wait.” I nod resignedly- Beverly is, of course, right, and as usual, I leave her office no closer to making a decision than I was before I entered her office. I am, however, re-energised by her promise of oestrogen (given the right circumstances, of course)- proof that my life doesn’t always have to be the confused mess that it’s been over the past year.

After a quiet lunch at home by myself, I catch a taxi to Charlotte’s house, which is, as always, the venue for tonight’s party, and as always, when I arrive, I’m greeted with a hug from my ‘mentor’.

“Hey Steph!” Jamie giggles, before handing me an armful of garment bags. “Here’s your ‘costumes’ for tonight… Hope you’re as good a runway model as you re a singer, hehe!”

“’Costumes’ plural?” I ask.

“Yep,” Jamie says. “Evening gown round, swimsuit round and, of course, the talent round! I assume you’ve been practising your singing?”

“I spend all bloody day practising my singing!” I say, making Jamie giggle. “For the swimsuit round, um, I assume it’s, you know, ‘padded’…”

“Oh, Steph…” Jamie sighs. “Fourteen months on oestrogen and STILL no, you know, ‘results’?”

“There are some ‘results’,” I retort. “Just not a lot, though…”

“Anytime you want the number of the surgeon who did my boobs, just ask,” Jamie says with a warm smile, a smile that I can’t help but feel contains an element of distrust.

“…I’ll think about it,” I say as I take my costumes up to one of Charlotte’s spare rooms, where Lauren and Kayla are already changing into their fancy evening gowns.

“They’ve really put in the effort this time,” Lauren says as she shows off the stitching on her elaborate, floor-length blue dress. “Three costumes each, and fancy bespoke ones too… I didn’t get this much effort or expense at my birthday party!”

“In fairness, it IS her 21st,” I say as I change into my dress, a high-necked, sleeveless red gown that’s very form-fitting and shows off what little curves I have- or rather, what little curves my foundation wear gives me.

“And it’s being paid for by her dad, who is a millionaire,” Kayla says, doing a quick twirl in her ankle-length strapless pink dress. “Now come on, make-up time!” Lauren giggles as Kayla wraps a cape around her neck and sets about transforming the tomboyish Scottish girl into a truly glamorous beauty queen, before wrapping the cape around my neck and giving my hair and face the same treatment. My eyebrows are reshaped to be as feminine as possible, my normally arrow-straight hair is curled into a very cute wavy style and tied into an elaborate updo, my eyelids are coloured with a dark copper eye shadow and my lips receive several different shades of blood-red lipstick.

After Kayla announces that she’s done, I stare in the mirror at my reflection, and while in the past I’ve been astonished at the transformation, today I feel… Almost nothing. Sure, I’m impressed by the tiny girl’s work, but the usual feeling of amazement that the beautiful woman staring at me is in fact me… Simply isn’t there. Instead, I just feel excited- both about the party, and about showing off my new look to all my friends.

“Six months at beauty college was worth it after all!” Kayla giggles as she fixes her own hair and make-up.

“I’d say so!” I laugh as I swish my long dress around my bare legs.

“Do we know who’s on the judging panel for today?” Lauren asks.

“I know my brother is,” I sigh, making the other two girls giggle.

“Danny?” Kayla asks. “Poor you… I’m pretty sure Joshua will be, as will Stuart. It’s not like it’s a ‘real’ beauty pageant anyway, it’s obvious Becca’s going to win.”

“Which is fair enough,” I say. “It IS her birthday, after all.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Kayla shrugs. “Come on, we’ve got to get downstairs, got to take our places backstage, hehe!” I giggle as I follow my bandmates down to the vast ‘main room’ of Charlotte’s house, where a runway has been set up alongside a Strictly Come Dancing-style desk with four chairs behind it.

“Why am I nervous?” I giggle as I head behind the curtain at the back of the runway, where almost a dozen other girls- all dressed in elaborate evening gowns- have gathered. “Just a few days ago we were doing this in front of, like, thousands of people!”

“Yeah, rub that in, why don’t you?” A short, dark-haired girl I recognise as one of Nikki’s friends says.

“Sorry,” I giggle. “But this IS my first beauty pageant… Never really considered myself much of a ‘beauty’, heh.”

“You’re as girly and gorgeous as anyone else back here,” Nikki says to murmurs of agreement. “No matter what anyone says, whether they’re fans, friends or family.”

“Absolutely!” Becca says as she steps between the curtains and is swamped by hugs from all present. “Don’t think for one second it means you have a chance of actually winning, though!”

“Yes, yes,” Adeola laughs. “Now come on everyone, brightest, whitest smiles!” I force my mouth into an obviously fake smile, just like all the other girls, and wait for our cue.

Within a few minutes, a loud, pulsing dance remix of ‘No More Lies’ starts playing, and I follow the other girls out onto the runway, striking a feminine pose with a hand on one hip and the other resting limply on the shoulder of the girl in front of me. As my eyes meet those of Danny (who’s taken his seat at the judges’ desk), my fake grin suddenly becomes very genuine, and only grows wider as he gives me a thumbs up and a wide, toothy grin of his own. I momentarily giggle at the absurdity of the situation- not much more than a year ago, I’d be sat next to Danny, admiring all the beautiful women on the stage... And my giggle suddenly fades, my smile once again becoming fake as I remember that it wouldn’t just be Danny I’d be sat alongside, it’d be Tom as well… And if he saw me now, I dread to think what his reaction would be.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Joshua booms from his seat next to Danny’s, “welcome to the first-ever All-Angel Heavenly Talent Beauty Pageant! Before you are twenty of the most beautiful women in the country, all of whom are competing for your votes tonight! So without further ado, please, bring on the girls!” I once again adopt my fake grin as ‘Here Come the Girls’ by the Sugababes starts playing and we beginning parading around the stage once again, before retreating backstage.

For the next hour, we take it in turns to strut our stuff alone on the stage, first in our evening gowns and then in our swimsuits (which in my case is a tight, bright red one-piece swimsuit with matching platform stilettos). Becca, of course, snaps photos of everything and everyone, especially of the band in our dresses and our swimsuits.

Finally, the time comes for the talent round. Obviously, I- and the rest of the band- opt to sing bits of our solo songs from our debut album, though some of the efforts of the other girls impress me more, particularly the rhythmic gymnastics display from the nearly four months pregnant Mary, and Krystie’s & Zoe’s ballet demonstrations. After I’ve finished singing my song, I stick around the stage to give my final ‘contribution’ to the night- my answer to the Q & A round. I feel my insides start to sink as my brother stands up with a wide, devilish grin on his face and a card in his hand.

“Seriously? YOU’RE asking me the question?” I ask, making the room laugh as Danny rolls his eyes.

“Just for that, I’m giving you a hard question,” Danny retorts, making everyone laugh again. “And your questions is… What is the best thing about being a girl?” You utter bastard, I think to myself as I keep my forced smile attached to my face. As the crowd stares at me expectantly, though, I realise that Danny is asking a very good question- one I’m not sure I know the answer to.

“The best thing about being a girl…” I say, “Is having so many awesome friends!” I giggle as the crowd cheers, clearly pleased with my answer. As I disappear backstage, however, my smile instantly evaporates.

“What an arseholish question!” Jamie spits. “I’m sorry about that, Steph. We only got Danny in because the judge we had lined up pulled out at the last minute.”

“It’s okay,” I sigh. “Had twenty years of being teased by him… And to tell the truth, I’d rather he teased me than denied my existence, just because I’m, well, dressed like this…”

“Too right,” Jamie giggles. “And you know something, Steph? I agree with your answer to that question 100%!” I also giggle as I give Jamie a quick hug- her constant suspicion of me over the last months has been a source of stress, so hopefully if- no, WHEN- I start transitioning for real, I’ll be able to put that behind us and truly become friends.

Half an hour later, after the final performance in the talent round, the twenty of us who took part in the pageant once again return to the stage, posing as before with fake smiles plastered all over our faces.

“Your votes have been tallied!” Joshua announces. “And we have a winner and two runners-up!” Runners-up? I think to myself. I never heard anything about voting for a runner-up…

“Second runner-up,” Joshua booms. “Is… Hannah Dexter!” Hannah squeaks excitedly as she bounces up and down, before standing beside Joshua.

“First runner-up,” Joshua says, “Is… Charlotte Hutchinson!” I grin as Charlotte goes through the same motions as Hannah before standing on the other side of Joshua. A part of me feels jealous of the two girls for being voted as runners-up by the crowd, but deep down inside, I knew I had no real chance of finishing anywhere near them in an actual vote.

“And the winner,” Joshua booms in his most jovial voice, “and Miss Heavenly Talent 2016, is…” Don’t keep us in suspense, I sarcastically think to myself. “…Rebecca Milton!”

“Oh my god!” Becca squeaks, giving everyone on the stage a hug each before running to the front and being crowned with a frivolous, bejewelled tiara and a wide golden sash which reads ‘Miss Heavenly Talent’ and ’21 today’. I giggle as Riley (Becca’s boyfriend) rushes onto the stage to give the birthday girl a large bouquet of flowers and a long, loving kiss, before leaving Becca to be photographed by everyone present as the rest of us slip backstage to change into slightly less ostentatious party dresses.

I’ve just about finished changing, when I’m surprised by a gentle punch on the back of my arm, and the baby pink polish on the fist’s fingernails give away the fact that it belongs to Kayla.

“Hey!” I say with mock hurt, “what the hell was that for?”

“For being sexy,” Kayla says with a smug grin. “And girly, and gorgeous…”

“Think you’re going to have to punch everyone in this room,” I say, making Kayla and Lauren- who’s just joined us backstage- giggle.

“True,” Kayla concedes. “But it’ll be you first! Or rather, you seventh!”

“What do you mean, ‘me seventh’?” I ask.

“Well, eighth, really,” Lauren says. “The final standings. Your brother showed us how many points everyone got- and if you don’t count Becca, you got the highest of all of us!”

“Wh- what?” I ask, my jaw dropping. “Seriously!?”

“Seriously, Miss ‘Beauty Queen’!” Kayla giggles. “You were actually ahead of two of the proper Angels as well.”

“The order- after Becca- was Charlotte,” Lauren says, scrunching up her nose as though she’s trying hard to remember, “then Hannah, Jamie, Krystie, Dannii- that really tall skinny girl- then Sarah, then you.”

“That’s mad!” I giggle. “I’m not a beauty queen, hell, I’m not even really a beauty…”

“Aww, don’t say that!” Kayla says, giving me a long, tight hug. “And not just because it’s my make-up job you’re putting down, hehe!”

“Hey girls,” Jamie teases as she approaches the three of us. “I take it you’ve told Miss Abbott the good news?”

“You mean ‘number eight’?” Lauren asks.

“Honestly, I demand a recount,” I say, making the girls laugh out loud.

“Why?” Jamie asks. “Want to bump Sarah off of seventh?” I laugh and roll my eyes as Jamie gives me a gentle hug. “Seriously, Steph, I know you’re embarrassed- even though you shouldn’t be, given the tour you just did! I know it’s kinda embarrassing, but just look at this as proof.”

“’Proof’?” I ask. “Of what, exactly?”

“Proof that you have loads of friends who utterly adore every bit of you,” Lauren says.

“And any time you’re having problems with anything,” Kayla says, “singing, dancing… Or family… We’ll always be here for you, right?”

“Hell yeah!” Jamie laughs. “ANY time.” I giggle happily as I follow the three women back to the main room, where we stay until just after 1am.

After getting a lift home with Danny, I head straight to bed (putting away my latest party costumes first, of course), where Kayla's words resonate in my ears. I've tried so hard to reconcile with Tom on my own terms, it never occurred to me that I could call on backup anytime I wanted. Lauren, Kayla and Jamie helped me when I came out to my parents, and they're a large part of why my coming out was such a success. Perhaps if I tried again with Tom, but with them on my side, I can make him see that Stephanie is who I want to be.

...And yet, as I wake up at 10am the following morning, all I want to do is pull on a pair of jeans and lounge around on my sofa all day. In the past, whenever I've had this urge, I've acted on it, and not just when I wanted to be 'Steve', but back when I was 'Steve' and wanted to be 'Stephanie'. Today, however, things are different. Today, I have a goal, a goal that was given to me yesterday by Beverly- the ability to transition, to take oestrogen and truly become Stephanie, the person I was always destined to be.

'You know you can't resist,' I hear 'Steve' whisper in my ear. 'Sooner or later, you'll break. Sooner or later, you'll pull on those jeans and put 'Stephanie' aside, even if it is just for a few hours.'

"No," I whisper aloud. "There's nothing 'Steve' can do that 'Stephanie' can't."

'How about eating what you want?' 'Steve' retorts. 'Lazing around all day, not caring about your appearance, playing videogames until your thumbs blister...'

"My food plan only contains delicious food," I whisper. "I'm still in bed at 10:30am. I can go without make-up- my friends AND my fans don't blink twice if I post a no make-up selfie, Saturday night proved that. And Kayla's now a bigger gamer than I am!" I lay awake for minutes, staring at the ceiling, waiting for 'Steve's inevitable retort, but much to my amazement, nothing comes- and my desire to pull on a pair of jeans and a scruffy t-shirt has totally vanished.

I giggle as I get out of bed and shower, before revelling in the feeling of sliding a clean control thong between my buttocks, followed by the rest of my foundation wear, a pair of glossy black tights and a knee-length grey sweater dress. I apply minimal make-up- just foundation and mascara, before heading downstairs and curling up on the sofa, Xbox controller in hand. Mum and dad are both at work, so I have the house to myself and can thus do whatever- and be whoever- I want. And right now, there's no one I want to be more than Stephanie.

Tonight, however, is different. Tonight, I can't afford to just wear a slouchy sweater dress and no make-up, as tonight's the night I've been looking forward to and dreading for days- the night my family finally meet Kurt. Just before my parents return home, I head upstairs and strip to my bra and thong, before enhancing my make-up almost to the level Kayla managed last night. I touch up my nail polish, spray on some of my favourite perfume and clip on my favourite jewellery, before stepping into a pair of translucent hold-up stockings and a slinky, knee-length purple dress. Even though we're eating at home rather than at a restaurant, I still slip my feet into a pair of expensive, 3" heeled pumps before heading downstairs to greet my parents as they return home.

"Wow, Steph!" Dad exclaims, his eyes almost bulging out of their sockets as he sees me stride into the living room. "Well, we'll have fun eating at home whilst you're out at your big fancy celebrity party..."

"Pete!" Mum chastises my father. "She's a rich young woman who lives wearing expensive clothes. God knows I'd have worn designer dresses every day when I was twenty, if I thought I could get away with it..."

"Thank you, mum!" I giggle.

"Doesn't mean you're not helping to get dinner ready, though!" Mum laughs, leading me into the kitchen where I spend the next fifteen minutes chopping vegetables (though I am given an apron to protect my dress, and am ordered out of the kitchen once cooking begins to avoid getting the smell of it on my clothes or in my hair).

Danny arrives shortly after the meal goes in the oven, prompting lots of jokes at his expense- jokes that he shrugs off in his trademark style as he starts filling our father in on the previous night's party.

"Ah yes," dad chuckles. "The beauty pageant. Must have been a dream come true for both of you, and for very different reasons, heh!"

"I definitely enjoyed it," Danny says with a smug grin. "Really glad that pilot guy dropped out and opened up a seat on the judging panel. And little Stephanie here... Top half! Even despite my attempts to rig the vote and stick her in last place." I blush with embarrassment, before hitting the laughing young man in the face with a nearby cushion.

"As beautiful as you are talented!" Dad chuckles with pride.

"AND I got a phone call from Charlotte Hutchinson this morning!" Danny beams, making me roll my eyes.

"Was she telling you off for the question you asked me last night?" I ask, making Danny shrug.

"Maybe," my brother says, bringing a smug smile to my face.

"What was it again," I say as Danny begins to cringe. "What's the best thing about being a girl?"

"What?" Danny pleads. "I was curious. Dad, back me up here?"

"I'm curious too," dad says. "Doesn't mean I'm going to spring it on Stephanie in a crowded room! I think you owe-"

"Yes, yes," Danny sighs. "I'm sorry I put you on the spot like that, Steph."

"Apology accepted," I say with my smuggest possible grin.

"But- but was your answer genuine?" Danny asks. "I mean, the best thing about being a girl is your friends, like, your 'sisterhood' or whatever you call it?"

"Don't tell me I'm going to get TWO daughters now," dad laughs.

"No, no," Danny laughs. "I'm quite happy having my name end in a 'y' rather than an 'i'."

"It is the best," I say, answering Danny's question, "but not by much, there's plenty of stuff that's almost as good- the clothes, obviously, the ability to be recognised for my beauty, the ability to display emotions freely... There are so many things 'Stephanie' can do that 'Steve' simply couldn't."

"And on the flipside, things 'Steve' could do that 'Stephanie' can't?" Danny asks.

"Nowhere near as many as you'd think," I say with a grin, a grin that only widens when I hear a knock at the door. "I think the 'guest of honour' has arrived..."

"I'll put on my scariest facial expression," Danny says, earning another cushion to the face. I pout my lips as I open the door, but my facial expression soon falls when it becomes apparent that it's not my boyfriend on the doorstep.

"Hello Ste- Steph," Tom says with a disapproving stare. "Can we come in?"

"Please," I say, ushering my brother and his girlfriend into the living room. "Hi Amanda, I'm sorry I haven't had a chance to put together that goody bag for your niece yet..."

"Oh, no rush," Amanda laughs. "They're not back at school for another couple of weeks. But I LOVE that dress! And those shoes! Designer, I take it?"

"£300 for the dress, £175 for the shoes," I giggle, doing a model-like turn for the thirty year old woman.

"Tom, I LOVE your shoes!" Danny says in a camp voice that earns stern stares from everyone in the room- not least Tom himself.

"Shut it," Tom snaps, stunning Danny into silence.

"Jeez... Okay, bruv," Danny says. "Family..."

"Stephanie was just telling us how she finished high at the beauty pageant she was in last night," dad says, easing the tension in the room. "For her friend's birthday."

"Yeah," I chuckle nervously. "Actually finished ahead of a few professional models..."

"And Joshua says he's thinking of making it an annual event," Danny says. "At a different time of the year to Becca’s birthday, to give everyone a chance to win. Well, unless Steph enters again, heh!" I smile nervously again, almost withering under Tom's stare, before a knock at the door makes me breathe a sigh of relief.

"FINALLY the guest of honour shows up," I say, opening the door again and sighing happily as I'm greeted by the smiling face of my boyfriend.

"Hey you," Kurt laughs.

"Hey, me," I giggle, giving Kurt a long, lazy kiss. "I've really missed you the last few days..."

"Yeah, I've missed me too," Kurt says, making me giggle as he wraps an arm around my waist (despite being shorter than I am in my heels).

"Mum, dad," I say as I lead Kurt into our living room. "Danny, Tom, Amanda... This is Kurt. Kurt this is- well, everyone, I guess!"

"Nice to meet you, son," dad says, giving Kurt a firm handshake. "You don't mind 'son', do you?"

"I waited 22 years for my family to say it to me," Kurt laughs. "Believe me, 'son' is more than fine!"

"That's a lovely accent you have, Kurt," mum says with a warm smile. "What part of America did you say you were from again?" I wince as mum asks her question, a wince that only gets worse as Danny sniggers under his breath.

"I'm, um, actually from Winnipeg," Kurt mumbles. "In, um, Canada..."

"Don't worry mum, I made the same mistake when I first met him," I laugh.

"It's an easy mistake to make if you're not familiar with the accent," Kurt laughs. "Must get it, like, twice a day over here. I'm surprised, um, that you're more interested in the Canada thing than in the, you know, 'other thing'..."

"Well, if you're comfortable talking about it..." Danny says, earning a stern stare from me.

"It's okay, I don't mind," Kurt laughs. It's clear from Tom's facial expression, however, that he DOES mind, and his mood only gets darker and darker as the evening goes on.

After the meal, we once again sit around the living room, discussing my work, Kurt's growing up in Canada and Danny's utter failure to hook up with any of my friends, and once again, Tom's mood utterly fails to lighten, to the point that when he excuses himself to get a drink from the kitchen, I follow him, determined to get to the bottom of his foul mood.

"So," I ask once I'm certain the door's closed. "How d'you like Kurt?"

"I like him fine," Tom says, not so much as looking in my direction as he speaks.

"Really?" I ask. "Because you've scowled your way throughout this entire evening!"

"It's not Kurt I have the problem with," Tom says, making my mouth start to tremble. "Oh, cut the act, 'Steve'. Especially as you're now dragging into it a guy who thinks he's going to get an actual girlfriend who's actually a girl!"

"I AM actually a girl!" I say.

"I'm sure that's what you believe," Tom sighs. "But I know you, Steph. I know that sooner or later, you'll have one of your flip-outs and go back to being Steve."

"Not anymore," I say. "I've changed permanently. I'm committed. This is who I am. This is who I want to be."

"For now," Tom retorts.

"Forever!" I say. "You can't judge me based on, what, the dozen or so times we've seen each other over the past year?"

"No, but I can judge you based on the last twenty years!" Tom snaps. "You're a LIAR, Steve! The saddest thing is, you're lying to yourself, and you don't even realise it. No- I take that back. The saddest thing is that you're lying to people who care about you, and THEY don't realise it."

"What can I do to persuade you?" I plead.

"...Tell the truth," Tom says bluntly. "To mum, dad, Danny... To your friends, to your employer. Tell them the truth about the past year. Then, if you want to be 'Stephanie', you can do so with a clean slate, and I'll support you."

"It'll destroy my career," I mumble.

"You should've thought about that before you lied to get that career," Tom spits.

"Oh- just- just no," I snort. "Don't give me that bullshit. I've kept 'Steve' secret from the press- the PRESS, for Christ's sake- for fourteen months. And now, 'Steve' no longer exists."

"But he did, and that's the point," Tom says, making me roll my eyes.

"Let's just agree to disagree, okay?" I ask as I lead Tom back to the living room, desperately trying not to think about how much I want to prove him right by stripping off my dress and climbing into a comfortable pair of jeans, even as Kurt wraps his arm around me...

Kurt, Danny, Tom and Amanda all leave just after 10pm, and I head to bed shortly afterward, frustrated by Tom's continued insistence that I'm not 'really' Stephanie. And yet... He does have a point. I HAVE been lying to everyone, and no amount of oestrogen I take in the future can change the past. However, if I can convince Tom that I'm certain about my future, then I won't need to worry about the past...

I spend most of Friday morning and afternoon on the living room sofa catching up with my fans on Twitter and Facebook, but I also find the time to send off a couple of extra messages, before skipping the traditional girls' night out in favour of an early night- and when I wake up the following morning, I'm glad I got the extra sleep as my hands are shaking with nerves, making it almost impossible to apply the thick layer of make-up I plan on wearing on my face, along with the nude tights, pleated knee-length black skirt and tight red top.

"Soo..." Kayla asks as the taxi picks her and Lauren up from their flat. "What exactly is the plan for today, again?"

"Simple," I say smugly. "We talk to Tom, make him see reason, I get my brother back, happily ever after."

"Is it really going to be that simple, though?" Lauren asks.

"...Probably not," I sigh. "But, you know, Tom is literally the only obstacle between me and- well, he's, like, the 'finish line'."

"Seems to me that you passed the 'finish line' months ago," Lauren says- and of course, from her perspective, I have- as far as she (and everyone except for Kayla and Tom) knows, I've been on oestrogen for over a year, living happily as Stephanie.

"Stephanie's entitled to have a 'complete' life, isn't she?" Kayla asks, making Lauren nod and concede the point.

"God knows if I'd fallen out with one of my brothers, I'd do what it takes to make it up to them," Lauren says.

"Even though HE's the one who needs to make it up to HER," Kayla says. Especially as Tom's price is far, far too high for me to pay...

After picking up Jamie, our taxi heads to the small London flat where Tom and his girlfriend reside, and I feel my hands begin to shake yet again as I knock on the door.

"Remember," my mentor says as she lays a calming hand on my shoulder. "We'll back you up. We'll be your family, no matter what happens." I nod as Tom opens the door, sighing when he sees that he's vastly outnumbered.

"...Come in," my brother says, leading the four of us to the living room. "Is this about what we discussed on Thursday night?"

"It is," I say. "I want- I want you to be my brother again. And I want to be your sister."

"You know my condition," Tom says bluntly.

"There shouldn't need to be a 'condition' for loving someone, especially when they're family!" Jamie pleads, bringing a smile to my face- maybe the woman I've spent the last few months disliking really IS my 'sister' after all.

"You have to face facts," Lauren says. "Stephanie has chosen to live her life- HER life- as a woman. Danny's accepted it, why can't you?"

"I would accept it if I thought that it was what THEY wanted," Tom retorts.

"Stephanie's been taking hormones to chemically change her body for over a year," Jamie says. "What more evidence do you need?"

"No she hasn't," Tom snorts, making my whole chest tighten. Please, please no...

"What- what do you mean?" Jamie asks. "Of course she has."

"She hasn't taken a single hormone pill," Tom says. "Have you ever seen a prescription for the treatment?"

"Well- no, but it's not like I wave mine around either," Jamie says. "But she's had other treatments, had her facial hair permanently removed..."

"Steve always hated shaving," Tom says as I look at him with sheer terror in my eyes. "I'm sorry to have to do this, Steve, but you obviously weren't going to tell them."

"Is- is this true?" Jamie asks, her look of concern quickly turning into a look of disgust.

"Well, um-" I stammer.

"Yes," Kayla whispers, making my heart sink and bringing tears to my eyes. "Yes, it's true." Kayla... I think to myself. How could you?

"How- what?" Lauren stutters. "What? Seriously, what!?"

"You- you're NOT transitioning?" Jamie asks.

"I AM committed to living life as Stephanie," I say in a quiet, feeble voice. "But- but I'm not on oestrogen, and I haven't been in all the time you've, um, known me..."

"So- so this last year, you've just been lying to my face!?" Jamie yells.

"To all our faces!?" Lauren spits, before turning to Kayla. "And you- you knew!?"

"I haven't known long," Kayla pleads.

"We're sorry to have wasted your time, Mr. Abbott," Jamie says as she stands up. "Clearly I need to have a talk with your si- with your sibling. A LONG talk."

"Thanks for stopping by," Tom says as I find myself unceremoniously ushered toward the door.

"We ARE going to have this talk, Steph- do I even call you 'Steph' or would 'Steve' be more appropriate?" Jamie asks.

"Jamie..." I say with a shaky voice. "I- I know you're angry..."

"'Angry' doesn't even begin to cover it!" Jamie snaps. "Do you know how many transgendered people there are in the UK, Steph? Some estimates put it at almost five hundred thousand. Half a million people, some of them even younger than you, and we've been promoting your story as an inspiration to let these young girls and boys know that their birth gender doesn't need to prevent them from achieving their dreams."

"And it hasn't," Kayla speaks up. "Steph's still the same woman who inspires those girls, she's still the same woman who came on tour with us. She's still the same woman who WILL commit to transitioning."

"I'm going to have a long talk with you as well, Kayla," Jamie says, silencing the tiny young girl.

"I- I'm sorry if I offended anyone," I mumble.

"If this gets out," Jamie says, "you will literally not be able to get a job anywhere in the entertainment industry. You'll be lucky if you can walk down the street without people hurling things at you."

"I- I hid it for fourteen months," I say. "The press don't know..."

"It's literally just us four and Steph's brother who knows," Kayla says. "And her counsellor, I think."

"Beverly too?" Jamie groans. "Well, doctor-patient confidentiality, I suppose... You three, just- just go home. Steph, we'll continue our chat there. I need to talk to Joshua first. And don't try to persuade me that he doesn't need to know, because he DOES."

"Is- is he going to fire me?" I blub.

"I don't know, Steph," Jamie sighs. "Just- just go home. I'll text you when we're on our way round." I nod and get into the first taxi that comes along, barely holding back tears as I try to make sense of what happened.

I never imagined that Tom would just drop me in it like it, never imagined that the life I've spent over a year crafting could just come crashing down in the space of just thirty seconds- but the more I think about it, the more I realise that my whole life has been under threat of that happening all along- the only miracle is that it didn't happen sooner.

"'Ere," the taxi driver says as he drops me off outside my house. "Aren't you that Stephanie girl from that girl band everyone's talking about?" I used to be... I self-pityingly think to myself.

"...No," I whisper. "You must have me mistaken for someone else."

"Oh," the cabbie says. "Pity, my daughter's a big fan of them. Says that someone at her college actually came out as transgender because they were inspired by that Stephanie girl. Not that I'm saying you look like a man, of course!"

"Heh," I chuckle as I pay the driver and head into my house, going straight up to my bedroom where I collapse on my bed and break down in floods of tears.

'I told you it wouldn't last', 'Steve' whispers in my ear. 'It was good while it lasted. Profitable, too. But now the time has come to admit to yourself that you were lying the whole time. You're not 'Stephanie', you never were, and you never will be.'

"It's not the end," I whisper. "I don't know for sure that Joshua's going to fire me..."

'Not just fire you,' 'Steve' says, 'but demand all his money back as well, all the money he invested into making you a star... All wasted. You've not only destroyed your own career, but Kayla's, Lauren's, Becca's and Adeola's as well.'

"That's not true!" I plead. "Joshua's a reasonable man, a kind man..."

'A man who detests being lied to,' Steve reminds me. 'You remember how he reacted when he found out the truth about your parents, god knows how he'll react to this...' I freeze in terror as I remember the telling-off I received when I confessed the truth about not being estranged from my parents. The telling-off I'll receive now...

My phone beeps to let me know I have a new text message, and I have to physically force myself to read it, I'm that scared by what it might say.

'I've spoken to Joshua,' the message- which, unsurprisingly, is from Jamie- reads. 'He's not happy at all but wants to talk to you. We're on our way now, will be there in half an hour.

"Oh god," I wail as I toss my phone back onto my pillow. I take several deep breaths to try to calm myself, but it doesn't work- nothing will work, nothing will help me avoid my fate- other than avoiding it completely.

I reach into my wardrobe for my largest travel suitcase and quickly fill it with a selection of underwear, casual clothes, shoes and virtually all of my cosmetics. After logging onto my internet banking and transferring £8000 into my current account, I drag my packed suitcase downstairs, where I see a black bin bag I thought was long since gone- a bag containing the last remnants of 'Steve', my last few masculine clothes that I thought dad had taken to a charity shop days ago.

I unzip my suitcase and prepare to stuff it full of the boyish clothes, but before I do so, I freeze. If I take so much as one of Steve's socks, I'd be admitting that Tom was right, admitting that I was never truly 'Stephanie' in the first place... I'd be admitting that I was nothing but a liar.

I retie the bin bag, securing all of its contents- every last bit of them- back inside, before zipping up my suitcase and grabbing a pen and a piece of paper from beside the house phone.

'Dear mum and dad,' I write. 'I'm sorry I left without saying goodbye, but things have happened that mean I have to leave for a while. I'll be in touch by email, but please don't come looking for me. Jamie and Joshua- my manager- will fill you in on what's happened, as will Tom. I'll be back soon. I promise. Love, Ste-' I pause as I look over at the bin bag that contains the last traces of the person I was for the first nineteen years of my life.

'Love, Stephanie,' I write, before heading out of the house and to the nearest tube station. Before long, I find myself at King's Cross Station, staring at the departures board. Virtually the whole country is available for me to escape to, places I've never been, places where the name 'Stephanie Abbott' carries little to no weight.

I'm distracted when my phone rings, and I grimace as I remember I'd set 'No More Lies' as my ringtone, which attracts the attention of several girls around me. After moving away from the crowd to get some privacy, I check the caller ID- and unsurprisingly, it's Jamie calling. I let the call go to voicemail, and delete the message that Jamie leaves without listening to it, before buying a train ticket for as far away as possible and getting onboard.

"So long, London," I whisper as the train pulls away from the platform. "So long... Steve."

“You know, you look familiar,” the cashier says to me as she rings up my items. “Did you used to be on TV?”

“Umm… You must have me mistaken for someone else,” I reply in my soft, androgynous voice.

“Huh,” the cashier says. “I could’ve sworn I’ve seen your face somewhere before.”

“…Just got one of those faces, I guess!” I giggle as I bag my purchases and head out of the store, sighing as I examine the items in my bag- foundation, mascara, two colours of eye shadow and a tube of dark red lipstick.

In my other shopping bag, however, is a pair of baggy men’s jeans and two loose-fitting t-shirts.

When I left London two months ago, I was certain about who I was and who I wanted to be. I WAS Stephanie, I wanted to be Stephanie on a permanent basis… But the longer I stayed away, the easier it was for all my old doubts to return. I the back of my mind I can still feel ‘Steve’s presence. It’s much, much quieter than before, but it’s still there, and has been all the time.

This is despite the fact that on the same day I left London, I logged onto a ‘specialist’ website Jamie had recommended to me and placed an order - a small vial of pills that reads ‘oestrogen’ on the label. I’d been warned of the danger of self-medicating by both my friends and my counsellor, but my determination to become ‘Stephanie’ had been so great that I thought I knew better… Right up until the point I had that first pill on my tongue. I looked at myself in the mirror, and all of a sudden, I froze as all of my anxieties- as ‘Steve’- came rushing back. I spat out the pill and collapsed on my bed, groaning with frustration as I heard the niggling voice at the back of my head that said ‘you’re not a real woman, and you know you’re not’. As much as it pains me to admit it… Maybe Tom was right.

After a quick dinner at Subway (a year on my carefully-controlled diet has left me highly intolerant of fatty foods from places like McDonald’s), I head back to my hotel room, where my pill bottle is waiting for me on the bed where I left it. I carefully lay out the jeans and the t-shirts I bought next to the bottle, and sigh as I while away the evening staring at them, just as I’ve done for the past few nights I’ve been on the road.

Right now, I’m in no man’s- or rather, no woman’s- land. I’m dressed in a pair of short denim shorts, girly flip-flops and a low cut tank top. I’m wearing make-up and have my ‘special’ underwear (a control thong and a padded bra) on underneath. My hair is long, but tied back into an androgynous style and my legs and arms are smooth and hairless- but that’s as far as it goes. My femininity is literally skin-deep, as underneath, I’m a confused mess. I was so sure… But now, I’m more conflicted than ever.

I could start taking the pills tomorrow and completely abandon ‘Steve’ forever, or pull on the jeans, cut my hair short and say goodbye to ‘Stephanie’… But deep down, I know exactly what I’ll end up doing- nothing whatsoever, just as I’ve always done. I’ll just stay in ‘no person’s land’, not a man- but not truly a woman either.

Before I get into bed I put my pills away in my suitcase and fold my- ‘Steve’s- new clothes neatly before placing them back in the carrier bag. I compose a quick email to my parents to let them know I’m alright (I’ve configured my email account to direct any and all incoming mail to my spam folder so it doesn’t bother me) before changing into my pyjamas- an androgynous grey vest and pair of shorts- and climb under the sheets, where I lay awake for hours before finally getting to sleep.

I sleep in until after 9am- the hotel I’m staying in doesn’t offer a cooked breakfast- before getting up, getting dressed in the same clothes I wore yesterday, applying my typically restrained make-up (just mascara, eyeliner and foundation- not even any lipstick) and checking out of the hotel. My first stop, once I’m back on the streets of the crowded seaside town, is the same clothes store I went to yesterday, where I bought the jeans and t-shirts- all of which still have their labels attached to them.

“Hi,” I say to the woman behind the customer service desk. “I bought these yesterday for my, um, boyfriend, and they don’t fit, can I return them please?”

“Sure,” the cashier says as I present her with the clothes, my receipt and my debit card, which she hands back a few moments later with the money I spent yesterday refunded back onto it. This is at least the twelfth time I’ve done this- bought clothes for ‘Steve’ one day only to return them a day later- and every time I buy the clothes, the desire to hold onto them gets larger and larger…

After the clothes store, my next stop is the railway station, to continue my ‘grand tour’ of the UK. After I left London, my first stop was Birmingham, where I spent two days, before moving onto Coventry, eventually making my way right the way across the country to Norwich. I zig-zagged back and forth across the country until I reached Aberdeen, where I caught a train down to Penzance, ready to start the ‘zig-zag’ all over again. I’m currently in Brighton, and today I’m going to catch a train to Croydon- the closest I’ll have come to London since I left two months ago.

The train ride takes a mere fifty minutes, and my first destination once I’ve left the train is the local WH Smith, where I scan the newspaper and magazine racks as part of a habit I am trying hard to beat. The first time I stepped into a newsagent after my ‘departure’, I was immediately confronted by a picture of Out of Heaven- all five members, including myself- on the front cover of a teen magazine. The sight sent me into such a panic- it was as if my old life was stalking me- that I immediately turned and ran out of the shop, only to return a few minutes later and buy the magazine. Ever since, I’ve deliberately stayed off the internet to avoid exposing myself to any news about the band, though I can’t help but scan the news racks for images of the band every time I reach a new town- even though there doesn’t seem to have been any news about the band in well over a month, a run that continues today.

After a quick lunch, I head toward the hotel I’ve booked for tonight to check in and drop off my bag- and, of course, my pills. As I enter the reception area, however, I do a double-take- sat in one of the chairs in the hotel’s lounge is a tiny teenaged girl with shoulder-length blonde hair who looks a lot like Kayla- though why Kayla would be in Croydon is anyone’s guess. I ignore the girl and step up to the reception desk, stretching my slender arms as I set down my heavy bag.

“Hello, can I help you?” The receptionist asks.

“Yes, I’d like to check in, please,” I reply.

“Can I take your name, please?” The receptionist asks.

“Abbott,” I reply. “Caroline Abbott.” I’ve taken to using my middle name when booking hotels, reasoning that while the name ‘Stephanie Abbott’ is a name that will get people’s attention, so few people know my middle name that I can use it without attracting attention. As I was about to find out, though, that wasn’t necessarily true.

“Steph?” A familiar voice calls from behind me, causing me to freeze to the spot. “Ste- Stephanie Abbott?” I slowly turn round, my eyes wide, as I realise that the tiny blonde girl who looks like Kayla is, in fact, Kayla herself. I grab my suitcase and prepare to bolt, to make another run for it, before common sense takes over- where on Earth would I run to? The hotel’s toilets?

“…Hi,” I mumble, dragging my case over to the tiny blonde girl, who immediately launches herself at me and gives me a tight hug, which I happily reciprocate.

“I’m really, really pissed off at you,” Kayla whispers, making me laugh happily.

“Guess I’m done running,” I sigh. “How- how did you find me?”

“…Let’s talk over lunch,” Kayla says, making me giggle again as we head toward a nearby restaurant and order our food.

“How- how did you find me, anyway?” I ask as I pick away at my sandwich, despite not being hungry.

“My cousin works at Brighton railway station,” Kayla says. “She mentioned she saw someone who looked exactly like you buying a ticket to Croydon, I got on a train, figured you’d be staying in a hotel, and I know which hotel chain you prefer…”

“Are you sure you’re a singer or a detective?” I ask, making Kayla giggle.

“Okay, it was a thousand-to-one shot,” Kayla admits. “But I’ve had a lot of free time lately… All the band has, actually.” I blush and avoid Kayla’s gaze as the ‘collateral damage’ of my decision to leave suddenly becomes obvious.

“You- you didn’t, just, you know, carry on without me, or replace me?” I ask.

“How could we?” Kayla asks. “The band is Becca, Adeola, Kayla, Lauren and Stephanie. That’s as far as the public is concerned, as far as Joshua’s concerned… As far as I’M concerned.”

“How could I stay?” I ask. “How could I look into the eyes of people I’ve lied to for months and just act as if nothing’s happened?”

“You can look me in the eye, can’t you?” Kayla asks. “Steph… I’m not going to lie. You pissed off a lot of people when you did one. But you’re still part of the band- well, legally, anyway…”

“If I go back, I’m going to get roasted alive by Joshua,” I mumble.

“So… What?” Kayla asks. “You’re just going to keep running forever? Steph… at Becca’s birthday party, you said that the best thing about being a woman was the friendships that you’ve made. All of us- Becca, Lauren, everyone- even Joshua- we’re still your friends. Yes, they were angry when you left, but time has passed, they’ve calmed down… They just want you back.”

“…And Kurt?” I ask.

“…He’s moved on,” Kayla whispers, making me sigh. “Which is your own fault, and you know that.”

“Yes, I know…” I moan. “And I know I can’t keep running forever, but if I go back… I’d just be going back to get fired, to go back onto the unemployment line. I’ll be right back where I started, only this time, I won’t even know who I am, let alone who or what I want to be.”

“Other than someone who views self-pity as a lifestyle choice,” Kayla spits, taking me by surprise with her harshness. “If this was any ordinary job, then yes, you’d be fired without a question, but this ISN’T an ordinary job. You’re a public figure. People look up to you, they respect you. Even during your absence, the number of followers on your Facebook page went UP- and you owe each and every one of those fans an apology.”

“…I’m sorry,” I mumble.

“That’s one down,” Kayla says as I blink back tears. “I take it… I’m guessing you’re still not, you know, ‘properly’ transitioning?”

“The, you know, meeting with Tom…” I sigh. “It scrambled my brain, made me even less sure of myself than I was before. I mean, I WANT to be a girl, but- but- it’s like… It’s as though I know deep down that I CAN’T.”

“Have- have you had, you know, ‘Steve time’ since you left London?” Kayla asks.

“Not a second,” I say proudly. “Though I came close… There are loads of times I buy boy’s clothes, only to return them to the shop the following day.”

“It sounds to me like you’ve decided which gender you’d rather be,” Kayla says with a smile. “Those awesome legs of yours are proof enough!”

“If only it was that simple,” I sigh.

“I’m not going to pretend I know what you’re going through,” Kayla says. “Having a constant voice in your head telling you that you should be one thing when other parts of your body scream that you should be something else… In a way, it’s no wonder you ran away. Where, um, were you planning on going after Croydon?”

“I dunno,” I shrug. “I’ve just been getting on a train… Probably somewhere in Kent, Canterbury, maybe, or Dover…”

“And then on into Europe?” Kayla asks.

“I honestly don’t know,” I sigh. “Maybe…”

“I think there’s only one city you should go to next,” Kayla says, and with no counter-argument, I simply sigh and nod in agreement.

The train ride takes a mere half hour, and one quick tube ride later- complete with fans asking myself and Kayla for selfies- at the end of which I find myself outside the front door of the home in which I grew up. I hesitate before knocking- what am I meant to say to the parents I abandoned for the last two months? But I knock anyway, and when the door opens to reveal the shocked face of my mother, I immediately lose control and break down in a flood of tears, which only flow more freely as mum wraps me in a tight, loving hug.

“It’s about damned time!” Mum sniffles, tears flowing from her own eyes. Fifteen minutes later, mum, Kayla and I are sat in the lounge with hot, comforting cups of tea in our hands.

“I- I’m sorry I ran away,” I mumble, cringing as mum sniffles yet again.

“I just want to know why you ran,” mum sighs. “Whatever the problem was, we could work through it together!”

“Even though I’m a pathological liar?” I sigh. “Everything I achieved over the last year… It’s all built on a lie.”

“But you DID achieve it,” mum argues. “The record sales, the tour, all your fans, all your money… You earned every penny of it.”

“You auditioned and were accepted, same as everyone else,” Kayla says. “The same as ME. You have as much right to claim the fame and fortune as I have.”

“But I’m a member of a girl band who isn’t really a girl,” I moan.

“Well you could’ve fooled me,” mum says. “And you know what? You did. You made me really believe that you WERE a woman, and I’ve known you every second of your life!”

“…Sorry,” I mumble.

“Don’t apologise for being who you want to be!” Mum says. “Yes, you may have pretended at first, but just look at you! I’d have a hard time believing that you were ever a boy. You’re beautiful, Stephanie.”

“Less than two hours ago,” Kayla says, “you said to me- and I quote- ‘I want to be a girl’.”

“But that doesn’t mean I AM,” I say.

“Tell that to Jamie-Lee,” Kayla says. “Or Nikki, or any of the girls who work for Soixante-Trois, or the sisters who directed the Matrix… Yes, you have doubts. Anyone in your situation would, but the truth is that if you’re willing to make the commitment to truly become a woman, then you deserve to be treated just the same as, say, me or Lauren. And you HAD made that commitment. Well, before you spoke to your brother, anyway.”

“Tom is in a LOT of trouble,” mum says. “After you left, Kayla filled is in on what happened, how you’d finally made your decision, only for Tom to put doubts back in your head…”

“That just means the doubts were there all along,” I sigh.

“Maybe,” mum says. “But it certainly isn’t ‘Steve’ I see sat on my sofa right now, it’s ‘Stephanie’.”

“So… I’m just in denial?” I ask.

“The fact that you ran away for two months kinda hints at that,” Kayla says, making me giggle. “Hate to point this out, but there are a LOT of people who are going to want to talk to you now that you’re back…”

“You go,” mum whispers. “As long as at the end of the day, you come back home!”

“I’m done with running,” I say, sharing a smile with Kayla before heading upstairs to unpack and change. My bedroom is just as I left it two months ago, right down to the cosmetics that have been left in a pile on my dresser. I sigh as I sit down in front of the elaborate, mirrored furniture, before blowing the dust off of the cosmetics and using them to enhance my face- full silver eye shadow, thick mascara and eyeliner and a deep scarlet lipstick all go onto my face. In the past, Kayla and the girls have described their make-up as their ‘war paint’- and given who I’m inevitably going to have to talk to next, that description has never been more accurate.

With my face made-up, I strip off my sandals, shorts and top and reach into my top drawer for a pair of thin, translucent tights, smirking as I stretch the soft garment over my equally-smooth legs. As I reach into the drawer beneath my tights drawer for a silky, short-sleeved top, I muse on how there is one thing different about my room- there isn’t a single trace of ‘Steve’ anywhere in it, not even hidden away in any of my drawers.

With the top tightly clinging to what little curves I have, I reach into my wardrobe, smiling as I withdraw a very smart, very expensive, very red bespoke skirt suit. I step into the short skirt and smile as it hugs my legs tightly as I zip it up, before pulling on the jacket and fastening the single button, which enhances my narrow waist and (padded) chest. After slipping my feet into a pair of matching stiletto heels and grabbing my handbag, I spritz myself with some of my sweetest-smelling perfume, before staring at myself in my full-length mirror.

Right from the top of my head to the tips of my toes, I project a perfectly feminine figure. Mum’s right- I AM beautiful, if I saw any woman on the street who looked like I do now, I’d be gob smacked by how she looked… And yet, I can’t help but see ‘Steve’ poking through the cracks in my ‘disguise’.

“I’m ready,” I say as I slowly descend the stairs in my high heels (having spent two months getting used to wearing flats or sandals).

“Hot stuff!” Kayla giggles as I do a slow twirl in my suit. “Apart from your fingernails, of course, but there are things we can do about that at my flat, hehe!”

“Umm, okay,” I say. “Mum, I’ll, um, I’ll see you for dinner, okay?”

“Of course,” mum chuckles. “And good luck with your manager.”

“Thanks,” I giggle nervously. “Hope I don’t need it…”

After a quick pit stop at Kayla’s flat, where she paints my nails a deep red colour and changes into her own pink skirt suit, I find myself stood side-by-side with my tiny blonde friend outside the offices of Heavenly Talent- the exact same place where I met her over a year ago. I take a deep breath before coolly striding inside, trying to keep my cheeks from burning as seemingly everyone in the reception area pauses what they’re doing and stares in my direction.

“Hi, Ella,” I say to the brown-haired girl behind the reception desk. “Is- is Joshua in today? Um, please?”

“I’ll let him know you’re here,” Ella whispers, typing into her computer before gesturing toward Joshua’s office at the top of what looks to me like a long, foreboding flight of stairs. I gulp as I walk up the stairs, my legs getting shakier with every step I take, before I almost collapse completely as I enter the office of the furious-looking African gentleman. Much to my dismay, he’s not alone in his office, as also present- of all people- is Jamie-Lee Burke, the same woman who was supposed to be my mentor, but turned into the closest thing I have to a nemesis.

“Take a seat, Stephanie,” Joshua says in a cold, dark voice, and I gratefully accept, happy to take the weight off of my wobbly legs. “First of all, welcome back to London. Secondly, you and I have a LOT to talk about.”

“I understand,” I whisper. “And I’m sorry-“

“Save it,” Joshua says, before sighing. “Believe me, you’ll be doing a LOT of apologising before this day is out.” I blink back tears as I nod, but it isn’t Joshua’s anger that’s upsetting me the most.

“Can-“ I stutter. “If you don’t mind… I’d rather talk to you alone if I can, please?” Even though his angry facial expression doesn’t change, I still breathe a sigh of relief Joshua nods.

“Jamie, please leave us,” Joshua says in the quietest voice I have ever heard him use.

“But I should-“ Jamie-Lee protests, making me grimace.

“You’ll have a chance to speak later,” Joshua says, silencing the 24 year old woman. “For now, Stephanie and I need to speak privately.” Knowing better than to argue further, Jamie-Lee nods and leaves the office, but not before giving me a VERY dirty look. Once she’s closed the door behind her, I take a deep breath and prepare to lay out my case to Joshua, but I don’t get the opportunity as he almost literally leaps out of his chair.

“I do not like being lied to!” Joshua bellows, making me jump. “I never have, and I never will! But what I hate the most about being lied to… Is that you feel you can’t trust me enough to tell me the truth about your transition.”

“I- I’m sorry,” I sniffle.

“I don’t doubt that you are,” Joshua sighs, sitting down. “Running away the way that you did cost me money, a LOT of money.”

“I- I can repay-“ I meekly offer.

“But the money I lost is nothing compared to the money you and your bandmates have already made me,” Joshua says. “If you had left before the tour, Stephanie, we would NOT be having this conversation. As it is, we’ve lost recording days and some publicity opportunities, but nothing major, nothing that can’t be written off.”

“I see,” I whisper.

“Stephanie…” Joshua says, standing up again, but much, much calmer than before, “why did you apply for the band? I want honesty. Whatever the answer is doesn’t matter, as long as it’s true.”

“…As a challenge,” I mumble. “To see if I could… I wanted to see if I could pass as a woman, I always loved to sing, I saw your advert online… I never even thought I’d get a second audition, let alone this.”

“…You were the last member picked for the band,” Joshua said in a calm, quiet voice. “Becca and Adeola, as you know, didn’t audition, Kayla and Lauren were picked very quickly, but you… There were three girls vying for the final spot. It was Jamie who rooted for you, she was your biggest supporter, she got you into the band almost single-handedly.”

“Would- would you have hired me if you’d known the truth about me transitioning?” I ask.

“…Probably not,” Joshua concedes, making my heart sink. “However, I pride myself on being a champion of equality. The colour of your skin or the make-up of your DNA is not important to me, only your capacity for hard work. And you ARE a hard worker. Heh, you’d have to be to live this double life you apparently led at the start of the band!”

“…It was knackering,” I say, making Joshua chuckle.

“So weighing everything up…” Joshua sighs. “I AM glad I hired you for the band, and not just because you’re worth your weight in gold for publicity alone!” I smile, relieved that my ‘roasting’ has come to an end. “However…”

“Am- am I fired?” I ask.

“…I don’t know,” Joshua sighs. “You caused a lot of trouble from your disappearance. I want to believe that it will never happen again-“

“It won’t, I promise,” I plead.

“You also promised me, after the incident with your parents, that you’d stopped lying to me,” Joshua says. “Whether or not you decide to transition is less important than whether or not I feel I can trust you again.”

“I understand,” I whisper.

“On the other hand,” Joshua says, “you ARE still worth your weight in gold for publicity. Your fans love you- I believe you were mobbed for selfies on your way home, right?”

“…One or two,” I say with a coy smile.

“The public do not need to know the ‘truth’ about you,” Joshua states firmly. “The only people who know are your family, your friends in the band and some of the Angels. And I have sworn all of them to secrecy. And the last thing I need is you jumping ship to Spencer and Hall, they’ve been breathing down my neck enough in recent weeks!”

“If you’re going to decide,” I say, “I’d prefer you did it soon, either way, rather than keep me hanging on.”

“I understand that,” Joshua says. “As soon as I’ve reached my decision, I will let you know immediately.”

“Thank you,” I whisper.

“What I will do,” Joshua says, “is release all the money you earned during the tour. And there is a LOT of it. No need to compensate me for lost income during your absence- I knew when I started working with models and signers to expect the occasional wobbly!”

“This was a hell of a ‘wobble’, though,” I say.

“Yes, yes it was,” Joshua says. “I recommend you go home, relax in your own bed, talk to your family. I know your brother is very eager to see you.”

“…Which brother?” I ask apprehensively.

“Daniel,” Joshua says, making me breathe a sigh of relief. “He has become very close to the other Angel husbands, boyfriends and brothers. Has even asked to audition as a male model!”

“Modelling what, gas masks?” I ask, making Joshua throw his head and roar with laughter.

“I’ve missed you, Stephanie Abbott,” Joshua says warmly. “Now go! I’ll let you know the second I make my decision, I promise!” I grin as I leave the office, but my grin immediately falls when I see Jamie-Lee waiting for me at the top of the stairs.

“Long time no see,” Jamie-Lee says in a dark tone of voice.

“Hello, Jamie-Lee,” I say, my voice equally dark.

“Really, Steph?” Jamie-Lee asks. “Or should I say ‘Steve’? After all the times I stood up for you, gave you advice, made time for you… Only to find out that you’ve been lying to my face the whole time? No, not just lying to me, but lying to all your fans as well.”

“You don’t know the whole story,” I snort.

“And whose fault is that?” Jamie-Lee asks, leading to an awkward silence as we scowl at each other.

“If you’d excuse me, Miss ‘I’m the purest person in the world who’d never lie- oh no wait, I’ve lied plenty’,” I spit, bringing a look of pure fury to the blonde woman’s eyes. “My family are waiting for me.”

“They’ve been waiting for you for two months!” Jamie-Lee shouts after me as I leave the agency, scratching the back of my head with my middle finger so that she knows EXACTLY how I feel about her.

“What was that about?” Kayla asks as we head toward our waiting taxi.

“Ugh,” I spit. “Just- just nothing. “I guess I’d better go and see the others at some point today… Where’s Lauren today?”

“In Scotland all week,” Kayla explains. “With her family. Actually flew up there this morning. And no, we are NOT getting on a flight, I am officially not letting you leave London until this is sorted!”

“Jeez, when did you become my big sister?” I ask, making Kayla giggle.

“Hey, it’s my career too,” Kayla laughs. “I want the band back together, PROPERLY back together.”

“…And I’m the biggest obstacle stopping that from happening?” I ask.

“…The ONLY obstacle,” Kayla says, leading to an awkward silence that’s only broken as we’re getting out of the taxi back at my home.

“Hey,” the taxi driver- a West Indian man in his early forties- says. “You two are from that girl band, aren’t you? ‘Out of Heaven’ or something, right?”

“Yep!” Kayla giggles happily, before staring expectantly at me.

“Umm… Yeah, that’s us!” I say, forcing a happy smile onto my face.

“My daughters are huge fans of yours,” the cabbie says. “Would you mind recording a message for them? Their names are Alisha and Shauna.”

“Not at all!” Kayla giggles, taking the cabbie’s phone and holding it in the ‘selfie position’.

“Hi Alisha! Hi Shauna!” Kayla and I say simultaneously. “Thanks for being such awesome fans of ours, we hope to see you at one of our concerts soon!” After handing the phone back to the cabbie, we head into my home, where I collapse heavily onto the sofa, kicking off my heels and stretching my tired feet.

“That… Was unpleasant,” I sigh.

“It’s also out of the way,” Kayla says. “Who do you want to see next, Becca and Adeola?”

“I have another suggestion,” a familiar male voice calls from the kitchen, making me jump yet again. “What, no hug for your big brother?”

“…Hi, Danny,” I sigh, getting up and giving the young man a hug as he emerges from the darkened room. “How long have you been hiding in there?”

“I got here about ten minutes after you left,” Danny laughs. “Mum called me to tell me that you were back, so here I am!”

“Idiot,” Kayla says, making Danny laugh.

“Umm, whose brother is he again?” I ask, making Danny laugh even louder.

“You were gone for two months,” Danny shrugs. “I missed having a little sister, Kayla’s an only child…”

“Just as long as you’re not going out,” I snort. “THAT’S something I can live without.”

“Nah,” Kayla says, playfully grimacing at the thought. “Besides, I doubt Rob would approve…”

“Or Rachel!” Danny laughs.

“What- you’ve both hooked up with someone?” I ask. “God… How much exactly have I missed?”

“Tom and Amanda got married too,” Danny says, making my eyes go wide. “…Just kidding, heh!”

“Idiot,” I say, making Danny and Kayla laugh. “On- on the subject of Tom…”

“Yeah…” Danny grimaces. “He’s not happy that you missed his thirtieth last month. Think he was half-expecting you to walk through the front door any minute with a gift.”

“And when you say ‘me’,” I sigh, “do you mean ‘Steve’ or ‘Steph’?”

“…HE means ‘Steve’,” Danny sighs. “I, on the other hand, had no doubt that the next time I saw you, you’d be wearing a skirt!”

“He really never lost faith,” Kayla says. “Kept emailing you, even though you never responded.”

“I’d have called too, if you hadn’t changed your number,” Danny says.

“…Even though I’ve been lying for the last year?” I ask.

“You’re my baby sister,” Danny shrugs. “That pretty much gives you a free pass to do whatever you want.”

“You- you still see me as your sister?” I ask, tears forming in the corners of my eyes.

“Again,” Danny says, “wearing. A. Skirt.”

“…Thanks,” I say, my voice quivering with emotion.

“You’d better get changed,” Kayla whispers. “I’ve already texted Becca and Adeola, we’re, um, we’re going to meet up with them for coffee.” I sigh and nod, before heading upstairs, eagerly peeling off my sticky tights and suit, replacing them with a cute light blue crop top, a pleated grey miniskirt and wedge sandals. As I stare at myself in my mirror, I smirk at Danny’s simplistic view of the world- as far as everyone’s concerned, I AM a girl, simple as. It’s just a shame Tom isn’t so easily convinced… And neither am I.

After bidding Danny farewell with a hug (and a hug from Kayla, awkwardly enough), we jump into yet another taxi and soon find ourselves outside the vast, posh house that belongs to Becca’s parents, and once again, my knees start to tremble as I knock on the door- trembling that gets worse when it’ Becca herself who answers the door.

“Oh,” the brown-haired woman says as she sees me. “Hello, Steph.”

“Hi, um, Becca,” I mumble, leading to an awkward silence.

“…Welcome home,” Becca sighs, before giggling and giving me a quick hug. “I’m still really pissed off at you though, despite the hug.”

“Join the club!” Kayla giggles. “Is- is Addie here too?”

“Yeah,” Becca sighs. “Come on in, you two.” I smile as I follow Becca into her living room, where Adeola greets me with a tight, wordless hug.

“…Hi,” I say to the dark-skinned girl, who giggles happily before sitting down next to her BFF.

“I’m still really-“ Adeola says, before being interrupted.

“Pissed off at you,” Becca, Kayla and I finish Adeola’s sentence for her, making her giggle excitedly.

“Believe me, I understand,” I sigh. “I’m really pissed off at myself, too.”

“As pissed off as I am,” Becca says, “I am glad you’re back, and not just because it means that we can go back to work!”

“Speaking of work,” Adeola says, “I’m guessing by Kayla’s suit that you’ve been to see my uncle? And that he’s pissed off at you too?”

“Are we- is the band, you know, now a foursome?” Becca whispers.

“Not yet,” I sigh.

“You do- you do want to stay in the band, though, right?” Adeola asks.

“Of course,” I say. “But it’s not up to me, it’s up to your uncle.”

“Man- oh, um, sorry,” Adeola says, before blushing.

“Honestly, forget it,” I sigh. “Believe me, I’m trying my hardest to.”

“Even though you recently spent time pretending to be a man?” Becca asks.

“Interesting choice of words,” I muse. “’Pretending to be a man’…”

“Well you were, weren’t you?” Becca asks. “I know obviously ‘Steve’ is part of who you were, but ‘Stephanie’s a bigger part, right? I mean, it’s not like you’re just cross-dressing as a hobby- not that there’s anything wrong with that- but you, you know, you spend virtually every money of every day as a woman, you’ve changed your name… Sounds like you’re a woman to me, regardless of whether or not you take medication.”

“What Becca said,” Adeola says with a confident smile.

“…It’s a little more complicated than that,” I sigh.

“Well however complicated it is, we’ll help you through it, right?” Becca says.

“Right!” Adeola and Kayla both cheer, bringing tears to my eyes.

“Thank you,” I sniffle, “thank you so much!” I giggle as I’m quickly drawn into a tight group hug.

“That’s what friends are for,” Adeola says. “But no more lies, okay?”

“Why, oh why did your brother have to write a song with THAT title?” I ask Becca, prompting yet another mass giggle.

Kayla and I stay at Becca’s house until early evening, where I’m filled in with everything that’s happened with the band during my absence- Stuart has been writing songs and the band have been recording solos and duets where possible, and whenever the band were needed for publicity purposes, Joshua would only ever send 2 or 3 of the girls along to try to disguise the fact that the band was no longer ‘whole’. Thanks to his skilled handling of the situation, the general public barely even noticed my absence- which makes me even more pessimistic about my chances of staying in the band.

“God,” Kayla moans as she straightens her transparent hosiery before getting in the waiting taxi. “Tights and June are an EVIL mix. Next time I see Joshua, remind me to go bare-legged!”

“Ugh, tell me about it,” I giggle. “Every ballet lesson last summer left me feeling like my crotch was a swimming pool…”

“That’s another thing you’ve been missing,” Kayla muses. “Only been having lessons on Wednesdays since you left.”

“…Sorry,” I say for what feels like the millionth time today.

“Will you be back at class on Wednesday?” Kayla asks.

“I- I dunno,” I sigh. “Need to sort my head out first, need to find out what Joshua’s going to do. He’s the one paying for the lessons after all, heh.”

“Get some rest,” Kayla advises. “I’ll call Lauren when I get in, let her know you’re back.”

“Thanks,” I whisper as the taxi drops me off at my home yet again. I open the front door with my key, and once again, I’m greeted by a tight hug from a member of my family- this time, my dad, who looks on the verge of tears himself.

“…Hi, dad,” I whisper, barely keeping my turbulent emotions under control.

“Stupid girl,” dad whispers, making me laugh. “Or should I say ‘stupid boy’?”

“I- I wish I knew,” I sigh. “I mean, I- I thought this was what I wanted, I was ready to fully transition, I really was, and then Tom-“

“Don’t blame everything on your brother!” Dad scoffs. “Though I admit he didn’t help matters. You’re still having doubts then, I take it?”

“Yes,” I sigh. “Though while I was away, I- I only wore girl’s clothes. I WANT to put ‘Steve’ behind me, I- I just can’t.”

“’Can’t’ or ‘won’t’?” dad asks, making me moan.

“…I really don’t know,” I sigh. “I’m really, really tired…”

“Get an early night,” dad advises. “Sleep on it, in your own bed, and you’ll feel better.” I nod, and after a quick, light dinner, I do just that, getting to bed just after 8:30pm and falling asleep almost the instant my head hits the pillow. This, of course, means that I’m awake early the following morning, getting up just after 6am and sighing happily as I shower and shave off what little body hair has grown over the last two months (frequently depilatory and waxing sessions have left my leg and arm hair extremely thing and patchy).

Once I’m sparkling clean, I apply a light layer of make-up and dress for the day in my usual control thong and a strapless padded bra, before pulling on a loose, knee-length sundress and the same wedges I wore yesterday. Once again, I stare at my reflection, looking at ‘Stephanie’ in all ‘her’ glory, and yet all I can see are the cracks of ‘Steve’ poking through underneath.

“Morning, Stephanie!” Mum beams as I walk down the stairs. “For god’s sake, did you really need to wear THOSE sandals when coming down the stairs? I’ve only just got you home, don’t want you breaking your neck…”

“Mum!” I protest. “I know how to walk in heels. And these aren’t even heels, they’re wedges.” Mum’s smile widens as I sit down at the breakfast table, unconsciously crossing one leg over the other in a highly feminine manner.

“Well they DO go very well with your dress,” mum says. “What do you have planned for today?”

“I dunno,” I sigh. “Suppose I’ve to go and talk to Tom at some point.”

“He can come to you,” mum says. “You don’t owe that boy anything.”

“Other than a thirtieth birthday present?” I ask. “Danny told me that he was expecting me to show up at his party. Well, he was expecting ‘Steve’ to show up, anyway…”

“Tom needs to accept that you’re his sister now,” mum says.

“Even when I myself haven’t?” I ask.

“Says the woman in the dress, heels- sorry, wedges- and nail polish!” Mum retorts. “Your father told me what you talked about last night, your desire to let go of ‘Steve’… I really believe you can do that, Stephanie, and I believe that the sooner you do so, the better. Are you still in contact with your counsellor?”

“Umm, yeah, I could call her, I guess,” I say.

“I’d make her your first call of the day,” mum advises. “See if you can get in for an appointment. And if you do talk to Tom… Remember that it’s YOUR life, not his.”

“I will,” I laugh as a bowl of sweet-smelling cereal is pushed under my nose. After eating, I spend the rest of the morning watching entertainment news on television, wondering if Out of Heaven are featured on any of the articles (they aren’t). Once the clock ticks 9am, I pick up the house phone and dial the number for my counsellor.

“Good morning, Dr Phillips’s office,” the voice on the other end- which I recognise as the doctor’s receptionist- says.

“Uh- hello,” I say nervously. “It’s, um, Stephanie, Stephanie Abbott… Is Dr Phillips free at any point today?”

“Oh, hello Miss Abbott,” the receptionist says, making me smirk at the use of the title ‘Miss’. “Dr Phillips has sessions all morning, but we can fit you in at 2pm if that’s okay?”

“Um, yeah, that’ll do,” I say.

“Great!” The receptionist says. “We’ll see you then.”

“Thanks,” I reply, hanging up the phone and sighing loudly. I have five hours to kill before my appointment, and a lot of people I still need to speak to… Most of whom I really don’t want to speak to.

“When are you seeing her?” Mum asks.

“This afternoon,” I say, grabbing my smartphone and opening up Facebook. “In the meantime, I still have a lot of explaining to get over and done with…”

A short while later, I walk into a small, posh coffee shop, inwardly sighing as I see the young couple sat waiting for me at one of the tables.

“Hi Stuart,” I say as I sit down opposite the couple. “Um, hi Jamie…”

“Hi Stephanie,” Jamie-Lee says coldly.

“Before you say it,” I sigh, “I get that you’re both pissed off with me-“

“’Pissed off’ doesn’t even begin to cover it!” Jamie-Lee snaps.

“Ladies,” Stuart says, calming us both down.

“At your audition, you looked everyone in the eye and said that you were a pre-operative transsexual,” Jamie-Lee says. “You’ve been lying to us for over a year. Frankly, it’s a wonder Joshua doesn’t sue you, let alone fire you…”

“You never asked me whether or not I was taking hormones,” I mumble.

“No, you just volunteered that information every time since when we’ve asked,” Jamie-Lee spits. “Do you know how many transgendered people there are in London alone? Some estimates put it as high as ten thousand. Many of them are young girls who look up to you, see you as a role model. If they found out the truth, it would break their hearts.”

“Just because I don’t take hormones- YET- doesn’t make me any less transgendered!” I argue. “I’ve chosen to live life as a woman, I’ve committed to this life.”

“Except for the times when you dressed up as ‘Steve’,” Jamie-Lee says.

“Dr Phillips thinks I might be ‘bigendered’,” I retort. “We can’t all be as sure of our gender identity as the two of you.”

“No, but we can at least tell the truth about it,” Jamie-Lee says. “Did you know that Nikki’s going in for her SRS in two weeks’ time, and she nearly cancelled it because what you said and did made her question what she was doing?”

“…But she didn’t cancel it, did she?” I ask.

“No thanks to you,” Jamie-Lee spits.

“Jamie,” Stuart whispers, calming his fiancée down. “We’ve both been where Stephanie is, we’ve both been at that ‘stage’ of questioning whether or not we really want what we think we want. Some people just take longer to get through that stage than others, that’s all.”

“It doesn’t excuse the lies,” Jamie-Lee mumbles.

“No it doesn’t,” Stuart concurs. “But what’s done is done. You can’t undo the mistakes of the past- all you can do is forgive them.” I smirk inwardly as I remember exactly which ‘mistake’ Stuart is referring to- something a lot more personal that he had to forgive Jamie-Lee for.

“I guess,” Jamie-Lee sighs.

“We’re obviously never going to like each other,” I say. “And that’s okay, we don’t need to. Yes, I started out crossdressing as a hobby, but is it really too hard to believe that I grew into my life as Stephanie and now enjoy it so much that I genuinely want to be a woman full-time?”

“…I guess not,” Jamie-Lee mumbles. “And if Dr Phillips says you have a case of gender dysphoria, then I can believe HER.”

“I’m seeing her this afternoon,” I say smugly, before my smile falls. “Though I’m also going to see my brother.”

“Tom?” Stuart asks, sighing as I nod.

“…I hope that goes better than the last time you saw him,” Jamie-Lee whispers with a genuine smile. “Steph… I really wanted to be your friend, I really did, but after what you did… I can’t see it happening.”

“Fair enough,” I shrug, extending my hand for Jamie-Lee to shake. “But we don’t have to be enemies either. Acquaintances?”

“…Acquaintances,” Jamie-Lee whispers, lightly shaking my hand.

“You’re still invited to the wedding, of course,” Stuart says, making both myself and Jamie-Lee giggle.

“I’m SINGING at the wedding,” I say. “Hardly the same thing!”

“You going to see your brother now?” Stuart asks. “Because if you need a lift-“

“No,” I say. “Need to get something from home first…” Stuart and Jamie-Lee smile sadly as I leave the table and head straight back home, where I futilely try to mentally prepare myself for my next ‘meeting’.

A short while later, just after noon, I find myself in yet another coffee shop, only this one is part of a chain, and more importantly, is only a couple of doors away from my brother’s place of work. I smile and wave at the thirty year old man as he walks in the door, though the frown on his face when he sees me makes short work of my optimistic mood.

“Hi Tom,” I whisper as my brother sits down opposite me. “Um, long time no see…”

“Hello,” Tom says bluntly.

“Not sure which name to use?” I ask. “Use the name ‘Stephanie’. That’s what I’m legally called, that’s what I want to be called.”

“You’re still trying to convince yourself of that?” Tom asks. “Because I can tell just by looking at you that you’re not sure.”

“What is it that’s giving it away?” I ask sarcastically. “The dress, the shoes, the nail polish?”

“I’ve known you for twenty years, S-whatever,” Tom says.

“You never knew I used to cross-dress,” I retort. “You never knew I used to fantasise about wearing make-up, heels and dresses literally every day of my life.” The look of utter unease on Tom’s face almost makes me giggle, as for the first time in my life, I have him on the back foot.

“Just because you wear a skirt, it doesn’t make you a woman,” Tom says.

“No it doesn’t,” I concede. “But abandoning your masculinity, making a commitment to living life as a female, that DOES. In the two months I was away, I didn’t so much as wear a man’s sock.”

“But can you honestly say you’ve put ‘Steve’ all the way behind you?” Tom asks.

“…No,” I sigh. “But I want to, I really, really want to.”

“All that would be doing is running away again,” Tom says. “Only instead of physically running away, you’d just be running away from the identity you really want.”

“You’re not a fucking shrink, stop psychoanalysing me!” I retort. “My life as Stephanie has been so much better than my life as Steve, I have friends, a career… Even had a boyfriend I genuinely liked.”

“Even though said boyfriend used to be a woman?” Tom asks.

“So I’m attracted to transmen,” I shrug. “Would it have made a difference if I was a gay man?”

“YES,” Tom says. “At least then it’d still be, well, you!”

“This IS me!” I say, gesturing toward my dress.

“It’s not all of you,” Tom says, shaking his head. “Ste- S… Why did you bring your friends round to see me? You must have known what I was going to say.”

“…I wanted you to see the life that I’ve made for myself,” I say. “To show you Stephanie’s life, her friends… I wanted to convince you that this was what I really wanted.”

“Even though you haven’t convinced yourself?” Tom asks.

“I WANT to be a woman,” I mumble.

“Then why are you so torn up about this?” Tom says, before letting out a long sigh. “I’ve got to go now, got to get back to work.”

“Before you go,” I say, producing the tote bag I brought into the coffee shop, “I want to give you this. It’s your birthday presents, and, um, the goodie bag I promised I’d put together for Amanda. Are you two- are you still together?”

“Yeah,” Tom whispers with a nod as he takes the bag from me. “…Actually thinking of asking her to marry me.”

“Bit quick!” I exclaim, my eyes going wide.

“Well, when you’ve found the right person, you’ve found the right person,” Tom shrugs.

“Yeah,” I sigh. The question is… Is ‘Stephanie’ the right person for me?

My mind is still in turmoil a short while later as I enter the (mercifully air-conditioned) office of my counsellor and collapse down heavily on her plush chair. Fortunately, Dr. Phillips’s facial expression is one of kind acceptance, rather than the scowls I’ve become accustomed to over the past couple of days.

“…Are you really pissed off with me too?” I ask, making Beverly smile.

“No, of course not,” the middle-aged woman laughs. “Though I’d stay away from my daughter and her fiancée for a while, if I were you. Have people been saying that to you a lot since you’ve been back?”

“A bit,” I sigh. “But I guess it’s to be expected, running off the way I did didn’t really accomplish anything…”

“No it didn’t,” Dr Phillips concurs. “Did it at least help you clear your head and come to a decision regarding your gender identity?”

“I thought it would,” I sigh. “I thought it HAD, but I’ve just spoken to Tom again…”

“I’m sure you realise that you can’t live your life by what he says,” Beverly tells me. “Only you can make this decision, and it has to be based on what you want, not anyone else.”

“I know, I know,” I say. “But what he said, it- it really resonated with me, you know? I mean, I WANT to be Stephanie full-time, but- it’s like I have this little thing in my brain that’s stopping me.”

“Go on,” Beverly says.

“While I was away,” I say, “I bought some oestrogen tablets off of the internet. Don’t worry, I didn’t take any.”

“Good,” Beverly says firmly.

“But I was tempted, really tempted…” I say. “And then I thought about ‘Steve’. I didn’t take any male clothes with me on my ‘trip’, but when I got to a new city, I’d buy some men’s jeans and t-shirts and take them back to my hotel room… But I wouldn’t wear them or even try them on, and I’d return them the following day.”

“So you were presenting as female all throughout your trip?” Beverly asks.

“Every second of it,” I say with pride. “Even in bed, I only wore nightdresses.”

“Well that shows that you see female as your dominant gender,” Beverly says. “It’s something I’ve suspected for a long time.”

“’Dominant’ doesn’t mean ‘only’, though,” I moan. “And as I said, I WANT to be female full-time. Or rather… I want to want it.”

“You feel your life would be easier if you could just commit without regrets?” Beverly asks.

“Exactly that,” I sigh. “I mean, I make a GOOD woman. Certainly better than I am as a man.”

“You are visibly passable,” Beverly says. “But it takes more than that to really be a woman.”

“…Tom said the exact same thing when I spoke to him,” I sigh.

“Well he is correct,” Beverly says. “But as I was about to say, I believe that there is more to you being a woman than the clothes you wear. You have embraced the feminine lifestyle… You’re just having difficulty letting go of the masculine.”

“I have incorporated bits of the masculine lifestyle I liked into ‘Stephanie’s life,” I say. “I play videogames, I’ll watch football occasionally…”

“And that is commendable,” Beverly says. “So many people so completely reject their old gender identity that anything remotely masculine is looked down on.”

“And again, it’d be much easier if I could do just that,” I sigh. “I just wish I knew how…”

I spend the next 50 minutes baring my soul to my counsellor, going into detail about my trip around the UK and my feelings upon my return- and how I likely wouldn’t have returned if I hadn’t been forced to, something which greatly concerns her.

I return home to an empty house, which I’m thankful for as it means I can crash on the sofa and let out my frustrations in one long, loud scream that probably doesn’t do my vocal chords any good. I put on my Xbox for a quick game session- my first in months- but even that doesn’t feel as satisfying as it used to. After switching off my game, I try to relax by immersing myself in reality television, but I’m distracted after less than ten minutes by a new text message on my phone.

‘Hey Steph,’ the message, which is from Kayla, reads. ‘Just checking to see if you’ll be at ballet tomorrow, I know you said you’re not feeling up to it but it’d probably be good to get back into practice. Might be worth asking Krystie and Zoe for some refresher classes too, I know they’d be willing to help out, Krystie’s desperate to put us in pointe shoes for our next vid!’ I chuckle as I read the text message, before an unexpected wave of panic washes over me as I imagine what the dance lesson will be like, with me walking in in front of everyone- Jamie-Lee staring daggers at me, Nikki and her girlfriend staring at me with looks of utter contempt, all the other girls judging me with their eyes…

“No, no, Steph,” I say to myself as I close my eyes. “Thinking like that is what caused you to run away in the first place, they’re your friends, they won’t judge you… Then again, they are women- not just women, but models… No, no, can’t think that way, that’s sexist, sexist against my own gender, no less… The gender I want to be… Isn’t it?”

‘Or is it just proof that you don’t really want to belong to that gender?’ A voice creeps into the back of my head, a voice I’d hoped I’d long since left behind- ‘Steve’s voice.

“I will never wear another item of men’s clothing for as long as I live,” I say confidently. “Clothes are just clothes, they’re just pieces of fabric cut into different shapes.”

‘Then what does it matter what gender’s clothes you wear?’ ‘Steve’ asks.

“Just because you wear a skirt, it doesn’t make you a woman,” I say. “But just because you wear trousers, it doesn’t make you a man.”

‘Prove it,’ ‘Steve’ says, making me smile determinedly. Re-energised, I leap off my sofa and head to the nearest tube station, heading to the nearest clothes store whilst they’re still open. When I return home, I have in my hands two shopping bags- one with a pair of men’s jeans, one with two men’s t-shirts and a packet of boxer shorts. If I can wear these clothes but see only ‘Stephanie’ and not ‘Steve’, that will be all the proof I need.

With a spring in my step, I head up to the bathroom, where I scrub my face clean of make-up and remove my nail polish, before stripping off my clothes and staring at my naked reflection. If it wasn’t for my flat chest and my ‘appendage’, I could easily pass for female… But I could just as easily pass for male as well, despite my long hair and smooth, baby soft skin.

“It doesn’t matter how I look,” I say as I pull on a pair of boxer shorts and a pair of thick black socks. “It only matter how I feel. If I wear these clothes, I’ll be no different than any other woman who wears men’s clothes.”

‘You keep believing that,’ ‘Steve’ replies sarcastically. I take several deep breaths before pulling on a t-shirt and the new pair of jeans, fastening them with a plain black belt. I close my eyes before turning to face the mirror, afraid of what I’ll see when I look into it. Whenever I’m dressed as ‘Stephanie’, I always see cracks of ‘Steve’ poking through. Now that I’m dressed as ‘Steve’, I should see at the very least cracks of ‘Stephanie’ poking through. I SHOULD see only Stephanie, with only the odd crack of ‘Steve’… But when I open my eyes and look into the mirror, I immediately break down in floods of tears.

‘I told you so,’ ‘Steve’ says in the mirror as I slump to the floor, bawling my eyes out. I was so sure… But there wasn’t so much as a trace of ‘Stephanie’ in my reflection.

I hide away in my bedroom for the rest of the day, keep ‘Steve’s clothes in place as I try to make sense of what I saw. I was so sure that ‘Stephanie’ was my ‘real’ identity. I’ve lived 98% of the last year as her. 100% of the last two months. But as ‘Steve’ said, wearing a skirt doesn’t make you a woman… No matter how much you might want it to.

Before I go to bed, I sit down in front of my dresser and tie my hair into an androgynous-looking ponytail, sighing as my reflection gets more and more male, more and more ‘Steve’.

‘You might as well,’ ‘Steve’ says as I pick up a pair of scissors from my dresser. ‘Just one snip, that’s all it takes…’ I blink back tears as I open the scissors and hold them to my ponytail. My hair took over a year to grow, but all it is is just another symbol of the lie I’ve told…

“No,” I say firmly, returning the scissors to the table and untying my hair. “If wearing a skirt doesn’t make you a woman, then having long hair CERTAINLY doesn’t.”

‘Nor does having short hair make you a man,’ Steve reminds me.

“Exactly,” I reply. “So my hair’s staying long.” I giggle as I pout at ‘Steve’s reflection, but when my pout fades, I sigh in frustration as all that’s left staring at me is the reflection of ‘Steve’ staring blankly back at me.

I sleep in my shorts, or at the very least, I try to, thanks to the turmoil my brain is in. When I wake up the following morning, the sensation of my loose shorts around my waist confuses me at first, as I’ve become so used to sleeping in a thong and a nightie, but the events of the previous evening soon come flooding back to me, leaving me almost hyperventilating as I throw back the covers and stare at my undeniably male body.

“No,” I whisper defiantly. “I don’t want this, I don’t want this! I. Can. Wear. What I damn well want.”

‘Then go ahead,’ ‘Steve’s voice says. ‘No one’s stopping you.’

“Exactly,” I say. “In fact, people EXPECT me to dress as a woman.” I smile as I peel off my shorts, and after a quick shower, I return to my room, smiling smugly as I apply a full face of make-up followed by one of my padded bras and control thongs. With every stroke of my hairbrush, I feel more and more feminine… And yet I can’t avoid looking at my reflection and seeing ‘Steve’.

“You know what?” I say defiantly. “I AM going to that ballet lesson today. I’m going to walk in there, with my head high, as the woman that I want to be. The woman that I KNOW I already am!”

‘Then go ahead,’ ‘Steve’s voice says. ‘No one’s stopping you.’ I smile as I reach into my dancewear drawer for a brand-new pair of pink ballet tights, giggling at the feeling of the soft material as it stretches over my soft, hairless legs. I step into a skin-tight black tank leotard and stretch the garment over my body, giggling girlishly as it clings to my body, before tying my hair into a severe ponytail and staring at my reflection in the mirror. I truly do look like any young woman, about to head off to her dance class… And yet as hard as I try not to, I still see ‘Steve’ reflected in the mirror. I frown as I cover up with a loose floral skirt, before pulling on a pair of pink, girly trainers, grabbing my dance bag and heading downstairs. Both my parents are still asleep following their night shifts, so I grab a quick breakfast before heading to the nearest tube station, emerging a few minutes later near the vast dance studio in which I haven’t set foot in ages.

“Here we go,” I say nervously as I slowly walk toward the front entrance of the building.

‘Go ahead,’ ‘Steve’s voice says in an almost mocking tone. ‘None one’s stopping you… Except yourself.’ I freeze as I stare through the glass doors of the studio at the young women milling about inside, and I suddenly realise just how out of place I am.

All of the women are clad identically to me, in pink tights and black leotards, but fundamentally, I know just how different they really are. They ARE women regardless of how they were born… But I’ll always be just a pretender, a man who likes wearing women’s clothing, never truly ‘one of the girls’ not matter how hard I try…

I hyperventilate as I literally run from the studio, heading back to the tube station where I compose myself and get on the next train to St. Pancras station. With a determined walk, I stride through the station’s vast concourse, not caring that I’m still wearing my dancewear, and head to the ticket machines, where I purchase a one-way ticket to Paris. As I head toward the train to France, however, I freeze.

‘Go ahead,’ ‘Steve’s voice mocks. ‘It’s the only way you’ll ever truly be free of me.’

“But you’ll always be waiting for me when I return,” I whisper.

‘Then I guess you’ll have to run away forever,’ ‘Steve’ says. I could certainly afford to, with the funds that Joshua’s released… But I know that running away forever will never solve anything. It certainly didn’t solve my problems two months ago, if anything, it’s made them worse. However, I can’t continue to live in the limbo I’m living in right now. It’s like the only choices I have are bad ones- and the only one that satisfies everyone apart from me will leave me mentally shredded…

Two hours later, having changed into a plain black skirt and an even plainer grey t-shirt, I found myself stood outside a building in London that I didn’t even know existed. Stepping inside the building is an even more terrifying prospect than stepping inside the dance studio- especially as I’m sure there are paparazzi hidden away nearby- but I know that it’s the only place I’m going to get any help.

“Hello,” the woman behind reception desk says politely as I step toward her. “Can I help you, miss?”

“Hello,” I say stoically. “My name is Stephanie Abbott, and I wish to have myself committed as I believe I am a danger to my own health and safety.” I grimace as the young woman stoically nods, before handing me a clipboard.

“If you could please fill this in to the best of your abilities,” the receptionist says in a calm, soothing voice. “Someone will be out to see you as soon as someone becomes available.” I nod as I take the questionnaire and sit down in one of the psychiatric hospital’s plush seats and scan through the questions until I come to one that makes me sigh.

‘Please state in full the nature of your mental distress,’ the question reads.

“Difficulty with my identity,” I mumble as I write in the box underneath the question. “Coming from a crisis with my gender identity. I want to be a woman, but I keep having masculine feelings that are causing me a lot of distress.” I pause before continuing, waiting for a thought from ‘Steve’ to pop into my head, but when nothing comes, I continue writing. “I have a male persona in my head who will often cause me anxieties about my transition and hold me back from living the life I really want.” Eat that, Steve, I think to myself. You won’t be around for long… My smile widens as a nurse approaches me and introduces herself.

“Hello, are you Stephanie?” The nurse- an oriental woman in her early twenties- asks. “I’m Linda, how are you feeling today?”

“Kinda relieved now that I am actually here, heh.” I say. “I know that must sound weird…”

“Not at all,” Linda says. “Are you done with your questionnaire?”

“Just about,” I say, handing Linda the questionnaire before following her into the bowels of the hospital. “I just- I just really need this sorting, I mean, urgently.”

“That’s what we’re here for,” Linda says with a smile. “We’re going to get you setup in a temporary room for now. You’ll have a room all to yourself, you’ll have a key as well, but for security and safety reasons, doctors will be able to let themselves into your room, uninvited if they think it’s necessary.”

“I understand,” I say as we enter the small, spartan room and drop my overnight bag on the bed.

“Do you have anyone we can contact?” Linda asks.

“Just my parents,” I say. “Oh, and my current counsellor, I’ve put her details on the form.”

“Okay,” Linda says, handing the questionnaire to an orderly outside my door. “I have to stay with you until a doctor becomes available, alright?”

“Alright,” I say as the enormity of the situation dawns on me- I am now officially a mental patient. God only knows what this will do for my career… But at least when I get out of here, ‘Steve’ should be a thing of the past. Either him or ‘Stephanie’, anyway…

Linda only remains with me for another fifteen minutes before she’s ‘relieved’ by a doctor, a kind-looking woman in her late forties.

“Hello,” the doctor says. “You must be Stephanie. I’m Doctor Kate Morgan, I’ll be doing your initial assessment.”

“Hi,” I mumble, limply shaking the doctor’s hand.

“I’ve read your questionnaire,” Dr Morgan says. “And I’ve contacted Dr Phillips to let her know you’re here, and asked her to forward your notes onto me. From your notes you’ve stated that you’re transgendered- what stage of your transition have you reached, please?”

“That’s a… long story,” I grimace.

I spend the next hour detailing everything that’s happened in my life, not holding anything back or embellishing the truth at any point. I explain the full circumstances behind my deceiving Joshua, Jamie-Lee and the rest of the band, my lifelong love of all things feminine, my meetings with Dr Phillips (and my lack of oestrogen), my anxiety about my growing fame and decreasing privacy, the circumstances surrounding my departure, return and aborted second departure and my ongoing conflict with ‘Steve’.

“I agree with you when you say it’s a long story,” Dr Morgan says, making me giggle. “I’m not an expert on transgendered studies but I do have some experience treating people who are transitioning. I will say though that you do appear to have some form of split personality, with your constant references to ‘Steve’ as though he were a different person, and you clearly have some degree of anxiety, so I can prescribe you a mild anti-anxiety medication now if you’d like?”

“…That would be good, please,” I say.

“As you’ve come here voluntarily, you can leave anytime you want,” Dr Morgan says. “However, you wouldn’t have come here unless you had serious problems you needed to work through. When you checked yourself in, you said that you believed you were a danger to yourself- how so, exactly?”

“Because I was just about to run away again,” I say. “And if I’d gone… I genuinely don’t think I’d ever have returned. I want ‘Steve’ gone, and I’m not going to do that by myself, or even once a week talking to Dr Phillips… It’s something I need sorted NOW, or at the very least, as soon as possible.”

“I understand,” Dr Morgan says. “I’m going to draw up a timetable for you, make sure that you see me or one of my colleagues one on one at least once a day whilst you’re in here.”

“Thank you,” I whisper.

“I’ll also get in touch with Dr Phillips, see if she can come to some of your sessions as well,” Dr Morgan says. “In the meantime, make sure you take your anti-anxiety medication. Mealtimes are listed on the notice on your door. They will be in a communal area, but it is well-supervised, and most of the patients here do tend to keep to themselves so you won’t get any trouble.”

“I understand,” I whisper nervously.

“I know this may seem scary,” Dr Morgan says. “But you have to believe me when I say that we are going to dedicate ourselves to helping you work through your problems so that you can leave here sooner, rather than later. But we will need you to do your own fair share of hard work as well, okay?”

“Whatever it takes,” I reply.

“Good girl,” Dr Morgan says. “That was the right pronoun, right?”

“Definitely,” I say with a giggle. The doctor soon departs, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Normally, when alone, I’d be playing on either my phone or my iPad, but I surrendered all electronic devices at the front desk when I checked in, meaning there’s no escaping from the upcoming confrontation with my male side.

“Come on, ‘Steve’,” I whisper. “Let’s be having you…” As much as I try to focus my mind, however, ‘Steve’ remains eerily silent. This is nothing new- all throughout my two-month journey, he never ‘spoke’ to me, only appearing as a vague feeling at the back of my mind that directed me to do various things, such as buying male clothing. It’s almost as though ‘he’ is lulling me into a false sense of security, trying to convince me that I’m better, that I don’t need to stay in the hospital, but I know that the second I return to my old life, he’ll return, and with a vengeance.

Hours pass as I think through what Dr Morgan said to me, and what I’ll say to her at our next meeting, before the clock on my besides table beeps to let me know that it’s time for dinner. After changing into a comfortable, knee-length cotton dress from my overnight bag, I head to the dining area where, as promised, there is plenty of space- much more than I expected, in fact, as the place is virtually deserted. After I’m issued my first dose of anti-anxiety medicine, I grab a tray and get my dinner- just a plain chicken meal- before sitting down at one of the empty tables. I’m only able to take a few bites, however, before I’m interrupted by a figure looming over me.

“Ex-excuse me?” The feminine voice, which belongs to a woman in her early forties, asks. “Do- would you mind if I sat with you?” I hesitate, nervously scanning the woman and the rest of room for any possible threats, but it’s clear from her demeanour that she isn’t interested in harming me, only talking to me. The presence of an orderly less than fifteen feet away from my table is another comfort.

“Sure,” I say. “I- I’m Stephanie, Stephanie Abbott.”

“I know,” the woman giggles offering me her unusually large hand to shake. “Janet, Janet Cole.”

“Nice to meet you,” I say. “Guess word’s got around about the new ‘inmate’, huh?”

“Aww, are you feeling a little nervous?” Janet asks, smiling sympathetically as I nod. “Don’t be, it’s not like it is in the movies. Everybody here’s really friendly, we’re here because we’re like you- we want to get better. Though I am surprised to see a famous superstar in this room!”

“Hardly a superstar,” I mumble.

“I dunno,” Janet giggles. “I have a fifteen year old daughter who definitely thinks you’re a superstar, you and the rest of your band- Rebecca, Adeola, Kayla and…”

“Lauren,” I say with a giggle of my own. “If you let me have your address, I can see about getting together a goody bag of stuff for her, if you’d like?”

“That… Might not be such a good idea,” Janet grimaces. “I’m… I’m not really speaking to my family. We had a large falling out, that’s kinda why I’m in here.”

“Oh no,” I sigh sympathetically. “I’m sorry to hear that. I- I won’t pry if you don’t want to tell me anything more-“

“No, it’s okay,” Janet interrupts. “You of all people, I can confide in. The reason I’m estranged from my family, my wife and my children… Is because nine months ago, my name was ‘John’.”

“You- you’re transgendered?” I ask.

“Aww,” Janet giggles. “Thanks for suggesting that it’s not THAT obvious! But yes, I spent the first forty-one years of my life as a man… Or at least, pretending to be one.”

“…I know the feeling,” I sigh, even though my ‘pretense’ is the exact opposite of Janet’s.

“I’ve basically cross-dressed my entire life,” Janet says. “First seriously started getting into it when I went to uni in the early nineties. GREAT time to be a crossdresser, by the way, as we were just coming out of the eighties so we had power suits, leotards, big hair and extreme make-up everywhere… Some weekends I wouldn’t go home, I’d spend the whole time as a woman. Even went to a few gay bars, hooked up with a few guys…”

“So… What happened?” I ask.

“I graduated,” Janet sighs. “That was 1994, I moved back to London, got a job, fell in love, got married, had two kids… I thought crossdressing was just a part of my life but as I got older, the urge just got greater and greater… I started dressing again six years ago, in private, but every time I dressed, I wanted more. And I don’t just mean in duration, it wasn’t enough for me to look like a woman, or even feel like a woman… I wanted to BE a woman. I mean really, really become one.”

“Go on,” I whisper, not caring that my diner is getting cold.

“Obviously I follow all the news online,” Janet says. “About that Caitlyn woman in America, about you and your friend Jamie-Lee… I took the plunge, and last August sat my family down and explained to them, calmly and rationally, that I needed to live my life as a woman.”

“…I know THAT talk,” I say. “Though I don’t have any children of my own…”

“My son did NOT take it well,” Janet sighs, tears forming in her eyes. “He looked at me like I was some form of freak… My wife immediately demanded a divorce, made it clear that I’d never have any contact with my children ever again. I tried to explain it to them rationally, but- but.” I give Janet’s hand a gentle squeeze as she breaks down.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I shouldn’t have asked…”

“No,” Janet sniffles. “The doctors say it’s good to talk… Especially to someone who knows what it’s like to go through what I did. So, my family leave me, I start living full-time as a woman, I go back to work, and obviously, they don’t have any choice but to accept me as a woman, but I can tell they think I’m a freak too, my friends refused to have anything to do with me… Three weeks ago, I tried to take my own life.”

“Oh my god,” I gasp.

“Long story short, I fail in my attempt, I get sectioned, here I am,” Janet says. “I’m on pretty heavy-duty anti-depressants, but I’ve been taken off of HRT until I’m ‘stable’… I know this must sound silly, I mean, you’ve been living as a woman longer than I have, right?”

“Not that much longer,” I mumble. “And it doesn’t sound silly at all.”

“That’s kind of you to say,” Janet says with a smile. “I- I’m sorry, your food’s getting cold…”

“I’m not that hungry,” I say, picking at the remains of my food.

“I shouldn’t have interrupted your meal,” Janet sighs. “It’s okay, I’ll leave you in peace.” I force a smile on my face as Janet leaves to eat her dinner at a different table, but I leave my food unfinished before returning to my room, where I collapse on my bed. Janet’s story has had a profound impact on me, and not just because of how emotional it is. Listening to someone bare their soul about how their gender identity has separated them from literally everything they hold dear… It makes me realise just pathetic I truly am.

Janet had to endure a constant urge for forty years- twice as long as I’ve been alive- and had to hide who she truly was out of fear of being rejected, and when she finally did come out, she was rejected… Whereas I’ve never been given anything other than love and acceptance by virtually everyone I know. My parents bend over backwards to accept ‘Stephanie’, I’m closer to Danny than I ever was as ‘Steve’ and my friends- and they truly ARE my friends- all unconditionally accept me and include me as just another one of the girls. Sure, Jamie may not like me much, but that’s more my fault than hers, and as for Tom… He’s a very small problem compared to what Janet has had to endure.

At Becca’s birthday party, Danny asked me the question ‘what was the best thing about being a girl?’, and I’d answered ‘all the great friends I made’. The way I turned my back on them, the way I lied to them, the way I ran away… I don’t deserve to have friends like them, especially considering how hard things have been for Janet, who is a genuinely nice, friendly person. Even the action of admitting myself to this hospital is an act of running away from the people who love me the most.

I barely sleep through the night, only getting a couple of hours at the very most, and I eventually get up shortly after the sun rises, laying awake in bed until 7am, when I dress in the same clothes I wore yesterday and head to breakfast. After a quick (but filling) bowl of corn flakes, I hang around in the dining hall, hoping to speak to Janet again after our discussion last night, but my plans are thwarted when I’m approached by an orderly.

“Excuse me, Miss Abbott?” The orderly politely asks. “It’s time for your appointment with Dr Morgan.”

“But-“ I protest, before sighing. “Okay.” I follow the orderly down a corridor, stopping outside the office where my counsellor is already sat waiting for me.

“Hello Stephanie,” Dr Morgan says as I sit down, unconsciously sweeping my dress under me and crossing my legs as I do so. “Did you get much sleep last night?”

“Not really,” I sigh.

“That’s understandable,” Dr Morgan says. “First night in an unfamiliar bed, after all.”

“It’s not just that,” I say. “With my job I stay away a lot, I’ve grown used to sleeping in hotel beds… I had to over the last two months, heh. No, it was something else keeping me up last night.”

“Go on,” Dr Morgan says softly.

“Last night, over dinner, I talked to another patient, an older transgendered woman called Janet,” I explain.

“Yeah, I know Janet,” Dr Morgan says.

“She told me her story,” I continue. “And I just felt… Pathetic. I mean here I am, I’m rich, I’m famous, and I’m taking up a bed that could be used by someone who actually NEEDS it…”

“Just because someone else has problems, it doesn’t trivialise yours,” Dr Morgan says. “If I thought you weren’t in need of this treatment I’d have already discharged you.”

“I’m running away from my problems again just by being here,” I moan. “What I really need to do is talk to my friends, explain myself, try to make them understand.”

“And how would you do that?” Dr Morgan asks.

“…I don’t know,” I confess.

“Exactly,” Dr Morgan says with a warm smile. “It’s common for people to feel better just by reaching out and getting the treatment, but you yourself said that you thought your problems would return if you left immediately.”

“Yeah, I know,” I sigh.

“What I want to get to the root of,” Dr Morgan says, “is both your desire to live full-time as a woman, and your ongoing desire to be Steve. As I’m sure you’re aware, these two desires don’t have to be mutually exclusive.”

“Yes,” I say. “Dr Phillips did say I was likely ‘bigendered’. I just- I just don’t want to be. I really would rather be female.”

“And yet,” Dr Morgan says, “’Steve’s constant presence in your mind hints that that might not subconsciously be the case. Stephanie… To begin to get better, you need to accept the fact that you might truly be bigendered- or even, ultimately, male-gendered in the long run.”

“But all my fans see me as female,” I whine. “My friends, my family-“

“Whilst you’re in this building, all that matters is what YOU want,” Dr Morgan says. “Your friends, family and fans can wait.”

“…Okay,” I whisper. “I should’ve come here two months ago when I ran away…”

“Well, that’s definitely true,” Dr Morgan says, prompting a light chuckle from me. “And that’s as good a place as any to begin. Why did you run away, what thoughts were running through your mind when you left?”

“Fear,” I confess. “Anxiety… I was convinced that my manager would fire me from the band, I thought that if I didn’t see him, I wouldn’t get fired.”

“Even though by running, you were separating yourself from the job you wished to preserve?” Dr Morgan asks.

“…I guess so,” I sigh. “My manager’s REALLY intimidating, though. Dr Morgan laughs at my quip as I continue spilling my guts to her. Unlike my timed appointments with Dr Phillips, this meeting is open-ended, meaning we end when Dr Morgan decides our time is up, which doesn’t happen until well into the middle of the morning. I return to my bedroom feeling relieved to have talked through my problems and laid out all my thought processes, but I’m no closer to answering my ‘big question’- Steve, Stephanie or both?

I lay down on my bed and close my eyes, trying to get some of the sleep I was denied last night, but I’m interrupted after just fifteen minutes by a buzz from the room’s intercom.

“He-hello?” I hesitantly ask.

“Miss Abbott?” The receptionist asks. “You have a visitor here to see you.” Nervously, I leave my room and head to the reception area, where I breathe a sigh of relief as I see Danny sat, clutching another bulging overnight bag in his hands.

“Hi,” I laugh, giving my brother a tight hug. “Thanks for coming…”

“Anything for my little sister,” Danny says. “Honestly never expected I’d put you in a place like this, though…”

“Oh- shut up,” I laugh, giving Danny a playful shove. “Nah, it’s all my own doing, being in here… It was either here or ‘never seen again’.”

“I know which one of those options I’d prefer you chose,” Danny whispers. “Um, I’ve got some more clothes in this bag, all, you know, Steph’s clothes… Also got some toiletries, a little make-up too…”

“Thanks,” I say. “And yes, ‘Steph’s clothes’ is what I’d prefer. Tried to convince myself that all my clothes were ‘Steph’s clothes’, even if they were like what you’re wearing now…”

“…And?” Danny asks.

“’Steve’ disagreed,” I sigh.

“’Steve’ was always a little moron,” Danny says. “’Steph’ is much, much cooler.”

“I doubt our other brother would agree with you,” I mumble.

“Well then he’s wrong,” Danny says. “And don’t worry about Tom, mum and dad are REALLY coming down hard on him.”

“How- how are mum and dad?” I ask quietly.

“Concerned,” Danny whispers. “But happy that you’re getting the help that you need.”

“And have you heard from anyone in the band?” I ask. “Or Joshua, or Jamie-Lee…”

“No,” Danny mumbles. “I’ll- I’ll text Stuart once I get out of here, see if he knows anything.”

“Thanks,” I whisper, before suddenly remembering something. “Could- could you bring in a goody bag next time you come? Of the band, I mean…”

“Umm, can do,” Danny says. “Why, have you met a fan in here?”

“Kind of…” I say, before bidding Danny farewell and returning to my room. After a quick lunch, during which I take my anti-anxiety pill and again wait futilely for Janet’s arrival, I head back to Dr Morgan’s office for another counselling session, only to find an unexpected face also sat in the office.

“Hello, Stephanie,” Dr Phillips says, greeting me with a light handshake.

“Umm, hi,” I say, trying to get over the surprise of seeing her alongside Dr Morgan.

“I asked Dr Phillips to come along to offer support to both of us,” Dr Morgan explains. “And I thought having a familiar face might help. If you feel crowded, however, or you’d prefer that one or more of us left-“

“No, no, it’s okay,” I say.

“Dr Morgan’s explained to me what you’ve been talking about,” Dr Phillips says. “She’s explained to me about your personification of ‘Steve’, and that you have a desire to expunge ‘Steve’ from yourself.”

“Getting rid of him isn’t the problem,” I say. “Ensuring that he stays gone, on the other hand…”

“Many transgendered people- most of them, in fact- do go through something similar to what you’re going through,” Dr Phillips explains. “Before you left on your trip, you explained to me how you felt that ‘Steve’ was a part of yourself you felt you couldn’t let go of, and now that you have what I truly believe is a genuine desire to rid yourself of ‘him’, you feel unable to, rather than unwilling to, am I right?”

“I must sound like a right mess,” I snort.

“Not at all,” Dr Phillips replies. “People often forget just how psychologically challenging it can be to change gender. Psychologically devastating, in some cases.”

“Even when you’re rich and famous?” I ask.

“If anything that might make it even more challenging,” Dr Morgan interjects. “As you’ve had to transition whilst in the public eye. Is it any wonder pop stars often go off the rails the way they do?”

“Or ‘on the rails’, in my case,” I say, making the two middle-aged women laugh. “On the topic of the public eye, is- is there any news about, um, me-“

“I’m not going to answer that,” Dr Phillips interrupts, shaking her head. “You can’t get better if you’re worrying about that, sorry, Stephanie.”

“Are- are the Angels and their friends saying anything?” I ask. “I know your daughter-“

“I’m not going to answer that question either, I’m afraid,” Dr Phillips says.

“Stephanie,” Dr Morgan says in a soft voice. “All of that can wait. You need to focus on yourself first and foremost.”

“…I guess,” I sigh as our counselling session gets truly underway with talk of how I ‘converse’ with ‘Steve’.

After another long, open-ended session, I head to the dinner hall for dinner, smiling when, after picking up my meal, I see the familiar face of Janet walk into the hall. I smile and wave at her, my smile widening as she waves back and sits down opposite me after getting her own meal.

“First night done then,” Janet says with an air of nervousness in her voice. “How- how is everything, you know, going?”

“…We’re getting there,” I sigh. “We’re still just talking about things, rather than actually doing things.”

“There’s a lot of that at the start,” Janet says softly. “But you have to trust that every step is a step in the right direction, no matter how small.”

“I do,” I whisper. “Janet… I actually looked for you, you know? At breakfast and lunch…”

“We must eat at different times,” Janet shrugs. “I can only eat around my sessions.”

“Well I’m glad we’re speaking now,” I say with a smile, before the wave of guilt I felt yesterday washes over me again. “Janet… There is- there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Don’t tell me- you were born a man, right?” Janet asks, making me giggle.

“It’s not even THAT simple,” I sigh. “Janet, I- I’m not actually a transsexual… I’m not transitioning, not taking oestrogen…” I grimace, bracing myself for an angry response, only to frown in confusion as Janet just stares at me, her smile not even wavering.

“…And?” Janet asks.

“Um, doesn’t it, you know, concern you?” I ask. “I mean, I’m a fraud… Sometimes I even wear MEN’s clothing.”

“You’re wearing a dress now, aren’t you?” Janet asks. “Steph… Just because you’re not taking oestrogen, just because you sometimes wear trousers, it doesn’t make you any less a woman.”

“But- aren’t you offended?” I ask. “I mean, sometimes I even THINK that I’m a man, I can’t get those thoughts out of my head-“

“Hence why you’re here,” Janet interrupts in a soft, motherly voice. “And as for being offended… I spent too long being on the other side of the ‘offence fence’. It doesn’t matter to me how you live your life as it’s precisely that- YOUR life.”

“Even though I’ve told the public, all my fans that I’m transitioning?” I ask.

“Their problem,” Janet shrugs. “I mean, you ARE wearing a dress, aren’t you?”

“Well, yes…” I say.

“You wear make-up, women’s underwear, fancy female costumes, right?” Janet asks, smiling as I nod. “You sound like a woman to me.”

“But I don’t FEEL like a woman,” I moan.

“None of us girls do, at first,” Janet whispers. “If you really, truly want to be a woman, then it WILL happen. Take it from someone who’s been where you are.”

“Thank you,” I whisper as Janet squeezes my hand supportively.

After I finish my meal, I head back to Dr Morgan’s office, where the counsellor is waiting for me, alone this time.

“Hi,” I say with a smile as I sit down.

“Hello, Stephanie,” Dr Morgan says. “You’re looking happier this evening, did you have a good dinner?”

“Yeah,” I say. “I spoke to Janet again, we had a good chat… I’m kinda feeling a little better about myself, about my identity, about ‘Steve’ and ‘Stephanie’… Though I guess the happy pills could be helping too.”

“They’re not so much ‘happy pills’ as medication to prevent you from getting too worked up,” Dr Morgan says. “Stephanie, I want to start delving into what’s making you anxious, making you unwell, and given what you just said about ‘Steve’ and ‘Stephanie’, that’s where I want to start.”

“Umm, okay,” I say.

“You’ve said that ‘Steve’ manifests as a separate personality, like a voice in the back of your head, right?” Dr Morgan asks.

“Yeah,” I say hesitantly. “Like- like a constant reminder of who I used to be, constantly trying to steer me away from being ‘Stephanie’.”

“Is what the voice says distinct?” Dr Morgan asks. “Like, can you actually hear the words that are being said?”

“I don’t hallucinate hearing them,” I reply. “It’s more like a ‘feeling’, a sensation that I can usually put into words fairly easily. It’s not like he constantly goes on and on at me.”

“Okay,” Dr Morgan nods. “You need to understand, of course, that ‘Steve’ is just a manifestation of your subconscious, and as such, is just a part of your own personality.”

“Logically, I do realise that,” I say. “It’s just… Difficult to ignore him. It. Whatever.”

“What I want to try,” Dr Morgan says, “is to understand ‘Steve’, to try to rationalise ‘his’ thought processes in a way to control them, and reintegrate them into your own thought processes.”

“Supposing I don’t want to reintegrate them?” I ask.

“I did say that you need to be prepared for the fact that we may not be able to get rid of ‘Steve’,” Dr Morgan says softly. “’He’ is a part of you.” I sigh and close my eyes, before nodding my head.

“I understand,” I say. “What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to think back to a time when you and ‘Steve’ were disagreeing,” Dr Morgan says. I lean back and take a deep breath, before responding.

“Got one,” I say. “It was Tuesday evening, I had the urge to dress as ‘Steve’, I thought that if I did, it’d be no different than any other woman wearing a man’s clothes.”

“And what did ‘Steve’ think?” Dr Morgan asks.

“He-“ I stammer as I try to remember back to the evening, and ‘Steve’s egging me on. “He, um, he encouraged me to dress, to try to prove me wrong…”

“But what did ‘Steve’ THINK?” Dr Morgan asks.

“…He was doubtful,” I say, shocked by the revelation. “He, um, he thought that it’d be proof that I wanted to be a man again.”

“So were you also doubtful?” Dr Morgan asks.

“I- I guess I was…” I sigh. “I was so determined to prove that I was now 100% female, but I guess there was a part of me that worried that I’d be wrong. A part of me- a part of that had doubts…”

“There isn’t a single person alive, transgendered or cisgendered, that hasn’t doubted themselves at one point or another,” Dr Morgan reassures me. “It’s how we deal with these doubts that makes the difference.” I smile a wide, goofy smile as Dr Morgan lays out the future steps for me to take to cope with any doubt I have in the future- steps that don’t involve ‘Steve’.

When I return to my room after the end of the session, I feel renewed, rejuvenated. Once again, I have difficulty sleeping, but this time it’s because I’m focussing so hard on Dr Morgan’s words of wisdom, and when I enter her office the following morning for our next session, I have a smile on my face and a spring in my step.

I spend the next five days working through my troubles with the help of Dr Morgan, and slowly, but surely, I begin to feel better about myself. Of course, it’s not smooth sailing- there are plenty of bumps along the way, plenty of times when I would get frustrated or upset, but Dr Morgan (and, when she’s free, Dr Phillips) always guided me through my treatment calmly and professionally- and my dinnertime chats with Janet have become something I will treasure for the rest of my life.

“I want you to go back to when you first applied for the band,” Dr Morgan says as I close my eyes and mentally take myself back to the moment when I discovered and filled in the online application form. “How are you feeling in this moment?”

“Anxious,” I say calmly. “Excited… It’ll be the first time I’ve ever gone outside for a prolonged period as ‘Stephanie’.”

“And what does ‘Steve’ think about this?” Dr Morgan asks as I concentrate.

“…Excited,” I say, surprised. “’Steve’ always wanted to know what it was like to live life as a woman…” I open my eyes as yet another revelation washes over me. “Heh, it was ‘Steve’ all along who wanted to become ‘Stephanie’… All this time, I’ve just been holding myself back.”

“And now that you realise that, how do you feel?” Dr Morgan asks.

“…Free,” I say with a snort of laughter. “It’s like, now I know what’s holding me back, I can easily overcome it, do what I want and be whoever I want.”

“I’m glad,” Dr Morgan says, sporting a wide grin and grabbing a form from a nearby pile. “This, Stephanie, is your discharge form.”

“My- my discharge papers?” I ask. “Already?”

“I’m not giving you a clean bill of mental health,” Dr Morgan clarifies. “I’m not saying that you don’t still need treatment, quite the opposite- I’m enclosing a recommendation that you start seeing Dr Phillips twice a week, and I will want to see you myself at least once a fortnight to check up on how you’re doing.”

“I understand,” I whisper.

“And I will recommend more residential treatment if I feel that you’re regressing,” Dr Morgan continues. “But as of right now, I believe that the best place for you to get your treatment is at home, surrounded by friends and family.”

“…Even though I’m inevitably going to have to face work?” I ask. “And I don’t just mean singing, and dealing with my bosses, I wouldn’t be surprised if every tabloid in the UK has photos of me coming in here…”

“I’m also enclosing a fit for work note,” Dr Morgan says with a sad smile. “Give it to your employer, it’ll show that you’re not well enough to do any work for two weeks. If you feel up to it before then, then by all means, and if you think you need another note, talk to me or Dr Phillips, and we’ll issue you with one.”

“…It’s kinda like you can’t wait to get rid of me,” I laugh.

“All I want is what’s best for you, Stephanie,” Dr Morgan says. “No one comes into one of these places if they can avoid it. And you yourself said that by coming in here, you were running away from friends and family. I truly believe now that you’re strong enough to face them.”

“Thanks,” I chuckle. “I’m still really nervous, though- I still don’t know whether or not I’ll have a job to go back to.”

“But…?” Dr Morgan asks. “This IS something we’ve talked about, Stephanie.”

“But…” I say. “Even if I don’t sing with the band anymore, I do still have the name ‘Stephanie Abbott’ that I can market myself and capitalise on. And a lot, a LOT of money from my time in the band.”

“Exactly,” Dr Morgan says with a smile. “Would you like me to call your parents to come and pick you up?”

“Please,” I say. “But there’s one person I need to see first…”

I have a smile on my face as I knock on the plain wooden door (accompanied by an orderly, as patients aren’t allowed into each other’s rooms), a smile that widens when the room’s occupant opens the door.

“Stephanie?” Janet asks with a smile of her own. “What are you doing here?”

“I- I came to say goodbye,” I say, tears welling in my eyes despite myself. “I just got discharged…”

“Oh- that- that’s great!” Janet laughs, though I can tell she’s nearly tearing up herself. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, Steph, I really am.”

“I really, really couldn’t have done it without you,” I whisper.

“I’m pretty sure it was the doctors who treated you, not me!” Janet giggles, wiping a tear from her eye.

“You opened my eyes,” I say as a tear trickles down my own cheeks. “Made me realise that I don’t have to define myself by what other people think… God, if I’m crying now imagine what I’ll be like when I’m actually on oestrogen…” Janet and I both laugh as we share a hug. “Make sure you stay in touch, okay?”

“I will,” Janet laughs. “Might actually give me an excuse to sign up for Facebook now, heh!”

“I’ll see you round, Janet,” I say as the orderly escorts me back to my room. “You hot, girly woman, you!” Janet smiles as I disappear back down the corridor, and after quickly packing my things away into my two bags, I find myself sat in the reception area of the hospital, the same place I entered almost a week ago feeling nervous, scared and like my world was about to end. I’m still nervous, of course, and the fear doesn’t go away… But I now know that my world isn’t ending, it’s just beginning.

My dad arrives a mere twenty minutes later, giving me a big hug before sitting me back down in one of the reception chairs and letting out a long sigh as he looks at me.

“You know,” dad sighs, “we could have worked this out WITHOUT you going into a nuthouse.”

“I really wish that was true,” I chuckle. “But I really do feel a lot better now.”

“Good,” dad laughs, giving my shoulder a quick squeeze. “Steph… You should know that there ARE some press waiting outside.”

“Ugh,” I spit. “I figured there would be... Has- has Joshua-“

“Don’t worry about him,” dad says. “Just take a deep breath and hold your head high as you go outside, okay? I’m literally parked just outside, it’ll only be a few feet’s walk. We’ll do this together, okay?”

“Okay,” I say with a nod. As we head toward the front door, however, I hesitate, and I feel a familiar ‘voice’ beginning to form in the back of my head.

‘No,’ I think, interrupting ‘Steve’ before he can ‘talk’. ‘Yes, there are press outside, but all I have to do is walk to dad’s car, get in, and then I can go home. No one’s going to hurt me, no one’s going to make me panic, no one’s going to make me run back into this place because I’m. Not. Going. To.’

Nevertheless, I still grimace as I’m bombarded by flashbulbs during the short walk from the hospital entrance to dad’s car. However, I follow dad’s advice and I keep my head held high, not breaking my stride or answering any of the questions that are fired at me as I sit down in the car and buckle my seatbelt. Seconds later, dad sits down next to me, and we begin making our way through the packed streets of London toward our home.

“Okay,” dad sighs. “That was worse than I was expecting. Sorry about that, Steph.”

“It wasn’t too bad,” I say with a smile. “And now it’s over, so no need to worry about it anymore, right?”

“Right,” dad says. Of course, I’m not 100% right in what I say as I have to fight through another scrum of paparazzi as I arrive back at my home, but once I’m through my front door, I breathe a sigh of relief and collapse heavily onto my sofa as dad takes my bags back to my bedroom.

“Stephanie?” Mum asks. “Is that you?”

“It’s me,” I say, greeting my mother with a long, tight hug.

“Well, I’m just glad you’re back,” mum sighs. “And I hope you’re feeling better? Not in any mood to run away again?"

“Never again,” I say, giggling as mum gives me yet another hug. “Has- has anyone from the band-“

“Worry about that tomorrow,” mum says. “You just rest tonight, relax, eat some dinner and play on your Xbox.”

“Now that I can do!” I giggle as I relax back down on the sofa.

I do all of the things mum mentioned over the course of the evening, but before heading to bed, I check my iPad, laughing as I login to Facebook to discover hundreds of unread notifications, most from my personal fan page- virtually all of which are messages saying ‘get well soon’. A quick check of my twitter and Instagram feed reveals the same throng of well-wishers, and despite the advice of my parents- and Dr Morgan- I go a quick google search for myself, discovering various online news articles showing photographs of me checking myself into the hospital last Wednesday. Gratifyingly, though, virtually all the comments on said articles are along the lines of ‘poor girl’ and ‘get well soon’, though a couple do say things along the lines of ‘every man who thinks they’re a woman belongs in a psychiatric hospital’.

“No,” I say to myself before ‘Steve’ has the chance to comment’. “We only need to go there thanks to people like you, scum.” I smile defiantly as I put my iPad away and climb into bed, sighing at the familiar sensation of my soft cotton nightdress wrapping around me as I turn over.

I’m awoken the following morning just after 7:30am by a loud banging from the front door. Knowing that dad’s home, I roll back over in bed and try to get back to sleep, but once the door is opened, I hear a voice that gets me out of bed very quick.

“Mr. Abbott!” The familiar African voice bellows. “Is my heavenly singer inside?” He’s still referring to me as ‘his’ singer, I think to myself. That’s a good sign…

“I’m here,” I yell, pulling on a dressing gown and quickly skipping down the stairs. “Um, h-hi, Joshua.”

“Stephanie,” Joshua says with a calm smile.

“Um, sit down, please,” I say nervously. “Sorry I’m not dressed…”

“Just because I wear a suit to bed, doesn’t mean you should too!” Joshua laughs as he lowers himself onto the sofa next to me. “Stephanie… You’ve put me in a bit of a difficult position.”

“…Sorry,” I mumble.

“As I’m sure you know, your presence in the band has earned us a lot of publicity,” Joshua says. “GOOD publicity. Even though my own niece is in the band, you were always the most unfireable member.”

“I’m not liking the use of the word ‘were’,” I say, biting my lip nervously.

“Your actions over the last few months would try any employer,” Joshua says in a much quieter, much more sombre voice. “Discovering the truth about your transition, then your disappearance… And now your hospitalisation.”

“I- I’m sorry,” I whisper. “If it would make it easier, I- I could quit the band, save you from having to fire me. If you’d prefer, I mean…”

“It might make it easier on me,” Joshua concedes. “But the band isn’t all about me. Whilst you were in hospital, Kayla called me several times a day to check up on you. I know she called your parents as well. Lauren even returned home early from Scotland when she heard the news. The other members of the band consider themselves to be a fivesome. I know better than to argue with them about this.”

“So… I’m not fired?” I ask.

“The position in the band is yours if you want it,” Joshua says. “But I expect you to be on your best behaviour, Stephanie. No more running away. No more erratic behaviour. And No. More. Lies!”

“…Thanks,” I say with a laugh. “I supposed I’d better tell the band, next…”

“Yes you had!” Joshua exclaims. “They are coming to the office today at 10:30am. I expect you to be there too. Dressed properly!”

“I’ll be there,” I say with a weak smile. "What- what do we tell the public? They still think I'm transitioning- I mean, properly transitioning..."

"They won't ask, and we won't tell," Joshua says. "I'll leave you to get ready. You only have three hours, after all!"

"Hilarious," I giggle as Joshua leaves the house, laughing every step of the way.

Sure enough, at 10:30am exactly, I’m stood in Joshua’s office wearing a full face of make-up, my short, tight red skirt suit and my favourite red stiletto heels. Sat in front of me are a number of women dressed in their own best suits- not just the four other women in the band, but also all six of the Angels, along with Nikki, Stuart and Joshua's nephew Jonathan.

“Girls, guys,” I say nervously. “As I’m sure you know, last Wednesday, I checked myself into a psychiatric hospital. This is because I really felt I needed immediate professional help, both due to dealing with fame, and dealing with my transition.”

“I thought you WEREN’T transitioning?” Jamie-Lee asks, before wilting under a glare from Joshua.

“From a certain perspective, I’m not,” I reply. “But that doesn’t mean I haven’t chosen to live life full-time as a woman, a life I intend to continue living. When I auditioned for the band, it was merely to see whether or not I could. I never expected to get a second audition, let alone this… I am truly sorry I led you all on. I really do consider all of you to be my friends… And with your permission, I’d like that to continue. I promise there will be no more lies, not one.” I smile happily as Kayla raises from her seat, walks straight toward me and wraps me in as tight a hug as her short, slender arms will allow.

“I forgive you,” Kayla says in a loud, dramatic voice. “And I’m glad you’re my friend.”

“…I forgive you too,” Lauren whispers, giving me a hesitant hug.

“It wouldn’t be ‘Out of Heaven’ without you,” Becca says as she and Adeola also give me a hug.

“Soo…” Nikki asks. “Are you, you know, going to start taking oestrogen? Or look toward SRS?”

“I really need to talk that over with your future mother-in-law first,” I say. “But ultimately… I’d like to, yeah.”

“You’d better still be coming tomorrow morning!” Krystie says, making me giggle.

“Just try and stop me,” I say, making everyone in the room laugh- everyone, that is, except for Jamie-Lee.

“And then right back here to start making more beautiful music!” Joshua laughs.

“I just… Want to thank you all for your continued support,” I whisper. “It really means a lot to me.”

“Now get back to work!” Joshua booms, making everyone in the room laugh as we depart. On the way out, however, I make a point of grabbing the one person in the room who wasn’t smiling as she left.

“Jamie,” I whisper, making the blonde, blue-suited woman stop in her tracks.

“What is it, Steph?” Jamie asks, clearly exasperated at having to speak to me.

“I feel… I owe you a bigger apology than anyone else,” I say.

“Apology accepted,” Jamie mumbles, before turning and walking away.

“…Fair enough, then,” I sigh.

“She is a model,” Joshua laughs, giving me a firm pat on the shoulder. “She has that temperament. Give her time.”

“Will do,” I say. “And thank you again, thank you for letting me keep my job.”

“I expect you to work as hard as possible!” Joshua booms. “Starting tomorrow. You enjoy the rest of the day, Stephanie.”

“Thanks,” I whisper as I leave the office and jump in a taxi that takes me straight to my next appointment.

I straighten my skirt as I leave the taxi and head up into the posh office where my counsellor is waiting for me with a wide grin on her face.

“Hello, Stephanie!” Dr Phillips beams as I sit down. “I’m glad to see the smile’s back on your face, at least. Dr Morgan emailed me your discharge report and I've been reading it- it looks like your time in the hospital did you a lot of good."

"It did," I say. "I feel a lot happier with myself, a lot more, I dunno, 'secure' about who I am and what I want."

"I hope Dr Morgan did explain that there's still a lot of work ahead for you?" Dr Phillips says.

"And how," I sigh. "I still haven't seen Tom since I got out- and frankly, I don't want to, either."

"You can't avoid him forever," Dr Phillips says, making me sigh as I nod. "But for now, it's probably best if you kept out of his way. How did things go with Joshua?"

"Still employed," I say, making Dr Phillips chuckle supportively. "Though only barely... There's a part of me that wants to get straight back into it, but I know that things will never be the same again."

"Indeed they won't," Dr Phillips nods.

"...And I'm one of those things," I say. "Maybe the time has finally come for me to, well, 'change'."

"If you're referring to oestrogen," Dr Phillips says, "then I strongly disagree, at least for the time being. You've been through a lot, Stephanie. The changes that oestrogen can cause can be devastating, and I'm not willing to put you through that until I'm satisfied that you're ready. And I expect you to throw away those pills you bought from the internet, too!"

"...Will do," I sigh. "I really am committed to living life full-time as a woman, though."

"I really believe you are," Dr Phillips says. "And I really believe that one day, I will write you a prescription for oestrogen. You just have to accept that that day isn't today."

"Okay," I say, making Dr Phillips smile before the session moves on to discussing, once again, what Dr Morgan and I discussed whilst I was in the hospital.

The following morning, clad in my pink tights, black leotard and flimsy summer dress, I stride confidently into the dance studio to take my place alongside my friends at the barre. Any thoughts or voices at the back of my head telling me to run are silenced, banished without mercy or regret. What I said to Dr Phillips was true- I AM committed to this life. Running away from it was the single biggest mistake I ever made, and it's a mistake I don't intend to ever repeat.

And yet, as I look around at my friends, and the way they look at me, I know that things will truly never be the same again. I've lost a lot of trust. I've turned some friends into outright enemies. And my family is splintered- though that, at least, isn't entirely my fault.

Maybe Dr Phillips is right, and I shouldn't be thinking about hormones right now. I have a lot of work and family time to catch up on. And whilst Kurt's obviously out of my life for good, it doesn't mean that I can't find myself another handsome transman to get my metaphorical claws into. The only thing I know for certain about my life, is that from now on, it's Stephanie or bust.

'Steve' is where he belongs- in my past. And that's where he's going to stay.

“Is there any point in having a birthday party if the actual birthday girl herself isn’t going to be here?” Becca moans as she paces back and forth, nearly deafening everyone with the rustling of her petticoats underneath her knee-length pink dress.

“Oh, just give her time,” Adeola says. “She’ll get here eventually. It’s not her fault her family lives an hour and a half away and she’s their only child.”

“And besides,” I say quietly as I fidget in my pink stockings and extra-high pink stilettos, “you know how important the band is to her, especially since, well, you know…” My two bandmates both silently nod as they remember the events of last month- the events that threatened to tear our little ‘family’ apart at the seams.

It began with the announcement of a new modelling supergroup called ‘Constellation’ that were positioned as direct rivals to the Angels. Included in the supergroup were two singers, but the agency weren’t too worried about them- pop duos like them and five-piece groups like Out of Heaven aren’t typically compared to each other, after all.

…Then Lauren decided that she no longer wanted to be a member of Out of Heaven and signed up with constellation, and suddenly our five against two rivalry became a much less comfortable four against three, which threatened to be even more awkward when Lauren showed up on my doorstep and tried to recruit me into Constellation’s ranks. I refused, of course, but not before earning the full wrath of Jamie-Lee Burke. And when I say ‘full’ I mean ‘full’- we actually got into a physical fight in the offices of Heavenly Talent that left Jamie with several bruises and me with a cut lip. For a while, it looked as though neither of us would work again, but calmer minds ultimately prevailed, Jamie and I sat down and talked through our differences (something we still do once every fortnight, actually) and Out of Heaven remained as a foursome (albeit a foursome facing a lot of work to rerecord our album to exclude Lauren’s contributions).

And, more significantly from a personal point of view, I moved back into my old flat after Lauren moved out, meaning that I am now the flatmate of tonight’s birthday girl- who earns a loud cheer as she walks through the front door of Charlotte’s house in her voluminous pink dress, arm-in-arm with a handsome young man wearing a smart pink suit.

“Happy birthday!” Becca, Adeola and I all cheer as we greet Kayla with tight hugs.

“Thank you so much!” Kayla squeaks, bouncing up and down on her torturously high heels. “Girl, this sexy hunk of beef is Charles, Charles, these girls are- well, you know who these girls are, hehe!”

“Nice to meet you,” Charles says nervously as he greets Becca, Adeola and myself with air kisses- though I can’t help but notice that his greeting for me is VERY awkward, and it’s obvious why.

“So YOU’RE Charles,” Becca says smugly. “No wonder Kayla’s had such a wide smile on her face lately, hehe!”

“Shut up, you’ll make Riley jealous!” Adeola giggles as we lead the birthday girl and her new boyfriend into the main room of Charlotte’s house, where she’s greeted by a loud cheer and everyone singing ‘Happy Birthday’. After Kayla cuts a huge cake- which, like everything else at the party, is pink- and opens her many presents, I head to the bar whilst my bandmates all dance with their boyfriends.

Even though I’ve been living effectively full-time as a woman for almost two years, and 100% full-time for six months, the fact is that anatomically and chemically speaking, I am still a man, and everywhere I go, I’m faced with the same prejudice I received from Charles- especially since the truth about my transitioning was revealed during the ‘war’ with Constellation last month. Fortunately, my counsellor issued a statement that said that it was her who was withholding hormones, which effectively took any blame upon herself, and Joshua and his PR wizards acted quickly to limit any damage the revelation may cause, but it still left me wrapped in a ball of anxious terror for ages- an anxiety that still hasn’t fully gone. Fortunately, I’m not the only person to have been in this position, as I’m reminded when I’m greeted at the bar by two women who have quickly gone from being archenemies to being close friends.

“Hey Steph!” Nikki squeaks as she gives me a tight hug, causing the petticoats under our pink dresses to rustle loudly.

“Hi Steph,” Jamie says with a happy, almost tired grin as she also gives me a hug. Despite us supposedly being the same, I can’t help but feel out of place even when I’m with Jamie or Nikki, which isn’t helped by my special custom-made dress having a high collar, whilst their dresses are strapless, showing off cleavage that I simply don’t have- and it’s almost certain that they won’t be wearing tight control thongs under their dresses either, given that they no longer have anything to ‘control’.

“Hey girlies!” I say happily. “Not out there dancing with your fiancées? Sorry, I should say fiancé and fiancée, one with one ‘e’ and one with two, hehe!”

“In a bit,” Nikki replies. “Want to take some of the weight off my feet first.”

“Well if you will insist on wearing six inch stilettos despite being 5’ 8”,” Jamie teases the tall young woman.

“So sue me for being gorgeous and girly,” Nikki retorts, sticking her tongue out at Jamie. “How about you, Steph? Plenty of single guys here today…”

“Plenty of single GIRLS too!” Jamie giggles.

“…I’ll pass, for now,” I laugh. “Doubt any straight guy would want to touch me, anyway.”

“Don’t say that!” Nikki sighs. “Look at it this way- dressed like that, no gay guy would want to touch you either!” I sigh sadly as Nikki grimaces and Jamie giggles at her faux pas. “Umm, obviously by that I mean-“

“It’s okay,” I whisper. “Don’t really want to think about relationships anyway.”

“It still sucks that people are hung up on the hormone thing,” Jamie spits. “Especially since it’s not your fault. Still, you never know, by this time tomorrow…”

“True,” I sigh. “I just- I just wish my transition wasn’t so, you know, ‘public interest’. Then again, if I wasn’t ‘public interest’, I probably wouldn’t even have the opportunity to transition…”

“Nah, you’d have found your way onto the RIGHT side of the gender gap eventually!” Nikki laughs. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I think my fiancée wants to dance…” I smile as Nikki heads off to dance with her lover, though I almost instantly sigh once she’s gone.

“…Nervous about the whole hormone thing?” Jamie asks.

“A little,” I sigh. “And tired! Spent all month rerecording this damned album…”

“Yeah, I know, it’s my fiancé who’s producing the thing, remember?” Jamie laughs. “I’m sure it’ll all work out fine for you. ALL of it. It's not the hormones that makes the girl- it's the girl that makes the girl. In the meantime, this IS a party… Might as well enjoy yourself, right?”

“Yeah,” I laugh as I finish my drink and join in the throng of people dancing the night away.

Shortly after 11:30pm, I climb into the back of a waiting taxi with the birthday girl, both of us giggling as we try to arrange our elaborate gowns on the car’s cramped seats.

“Soo…” I tease, barely suppressing my drunken giggles. “Best. Birthday. Ever?”

“Gosh, I don’t know,” Kayla sighs. “Last year took some topping, but… Definitely top 2, yeah!” I giggle along with Kayla as the taxi takes us home, where we both breathe sighs of relief as we release each other from our extravagant outfits- though ‘costume’ would definitely be a more appropriate word than ‘outfit’ to describe these dresses!

“Would’ve thought you’d go home with Charles, get him to do this for you,” I tease Kayla as she pulls on a fluffy pink dressing gown and collapses onto the sofa whilst I head to the bathroom to wash away my thick make-up.

“Yeah…” Kayla says quietly, making me sigh.

“Kayla…” I groan. “Don’t tell me you’re chucking yet ANOTHER boyfriend?”

“Well… I dunno,” Kayla sighs. “I mean yes, he’s nice, he’s fit… I dunno if he’s right for me, though.”

“How can you be 100% sure?” I ask as I pull on a dressing gown of my own and sit down next to Kayla. “You’ve barely been going out two weeks.”

“Like I said, I DON’T KNOW,” Kayla groans, “It’s just- it’s just a feeling, you know? Some things are meant to be, some things aren’t... And this is, well, ‘aren’t’.”

“Well, don’t let it ruin what’s left of your birthday,” I say, giving the tiny girl a quick, friendly hug. “You’ve only got 364 days of teenage life left, might as well enjoy them!”

“Heh, I guess,” Kayla giggles. “Next time I go out, though, it’s going to be absolutely GIRLS ONLY!”

“Atta girl!” I giggle.

“And yes, obviously, that includes you,” Kayla says, making me grin. “You know, living with you for one month and already you’re, like, more girly than Lauren ever was.”

“She was a tomboy who grew up on a farm,” I laugh. “My brother’s more girly than she was!”

“I dunno,” Kayla mused. “She did like the whole costume and make-up side to our job, you know, getting dressed up for parties, for videos and tours… I actually missed her today, more than I thought I would.”

“Okay,” I say, helping the unsteady girl to her feet. “You sound and smell like you’ve had more than a little to drink, heh! In future, please try to remember that your alcohol tolerance sucks, okay?”

“My tolerance is fine,” Kayla protests as I help her to her bedroom, and while she can still more or less walk in a straight line, she’s obviously fading fast, and by the time I tuck her into her queen-sized bed (which seems to smother the tiny girl) she’s already half-asleep.

“Night, Kayla,” I whisper before turning out her light. “Happy birthday…”

“Night, mum,” Kayla mumbles as she rolls over in bed and starts gently snoring.

“Could be worse, she could’ve said ‘dad’,” I muse quietly to myself as I head to my own room and climb into my own bed and cuddle my soft, warm sheets around me to keep out the cold October air.

Even though I’ve only lived in the room for a month, I’ve quickly fallen in love with it and made it my own space. Lauren was very thorough when she moved out, taking virtually all of her belongings and leaving only a bed and some shelves, but all this did was made it easier to erase any trace of her from the room and make it all ‘Stephanie’- and unlike the last time I lived in this flat, the room is all ‘Stephanie’ without even the slightest trace of ‘Steve’ anywhere in it.

I started with the colour of the room- Lauren had painted it a light blue colour, which I obviously wasn’t going to keep. Rather than go overtly pink like Kayla’s room, I opted for a neutral cream colour with decorative hand-painted patterns around the middle of the room. My wardrobes- plural- obviously take pride of place, which a good half of one of them being given over to the various costumes I’ve worn on tour, in videos and to parties (with last night’s dress being the latest addition). I have a huge dressing table dominating one wall of the room, on the top of which is more make-up than the average drugstore, and the opposite wall is almost entirely filled with a collage of various photos of my life as Stephanie, photos of me with my band, my friends and my family… Well, some of my family, anyway.

Naturally, the day after I moved in, Danny showed up uninvited to help put together my furniture and help paint the room. Well I say ‘help’, he actually did most of the work whilst Kayla and I watched, offered pointers and made drinks. Dad showed up after finishing work to help paint the ceiling, and once the room was done, Kayla and I rewarded both the men by taking them out for dinner at a nearby fancy restaurant. However, all throughout the meal, there was only one thing on everyone’s mind- and that’s that my other brother wasn’t there.

Ever since the ‘full truth’ about me was revealed, Tom has been even more distant than usual, and I don’t know why. Maybe he was expecting me to give up my life as Stephanie once the world knew that I wasn’t taking hormones, or he was expecting some admission of wrongdoing on my part, and was frustrated that I didn’t go grovelling to him, begging for forgiveness. If this is the case, then he’ll be waiting a very, very long time. Thanks to my sessions with Dr Phillips and my reconciliation with Jamie and Nikki and their friends- not to mention the unconditional acceptance shown by Kayla, Becca and Adeola- I’m now more confident than ever that my life as Stephanie is the life I should be leading, the only life I need. They say whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger- well in my case, whatever doesn’t stop me only makes me girlier. Not that ‘Steve’ is dead, of course- he’s simply been vastly improved!

My eyes flutter open just after 9:30am, waking me from a dreamless sleep, and after showering away the light traces of a hangover, I pull on a padded bra and control thong before sitting down at my dresser and applying my make-up for the day. Even though we’re not actually at work today- the album having been finished last week following a lot of hasty rerecording- I still, as always, make the effort to be as feminine, as ‘Stephanie’ as I can be, so after my make-up is applied, I touch up my dark red nail polish, push a pair of my favourite earrings through my lobes and spritz myself with a cloud of sweet-smelling perfume. I let out a light giggle as I open my vast underwear drawer- I own more lingerie, and sexier lingerie, than most genetic women I know, even though I’m the only person who ever sees my body in it. Today, however, I reach past the various teddies and corsets I own and pull out a very plain pair of opaque black tights, stretching them over my legs and my hips before stepping into a short, flared black skirt and pulling a clingy burgundy-coloured turtleneck jumper over my head.

“Kayla?” I ask as I head out of my bedroom, whose door faces my flatmate’s bedroom door. “Kayla? You up yet? We’re meeting Becca and Adeola at twelve, come on!” The sound of a soft, quiet moan coming from the room tells me that whilst Kayla may be awake, she undoubtedly wishes that she wasn’t.

“Go away,” the tiny blonde girl groans as I enter her room.

“Kayla…” I coo as I sneak up beside her bed.

“Go away!” Kayla sobs, clearly in pain- though as that pain is very much self-inflicted, I’m not as sympathetic as I would normally be.

“HOW much did you drink last night?” I ask the tiny girl as she pulls her duvet over her head.

“Not that much,” Kayla moans, before letting out a long sigh. “…Can you get me some aspirin, please?”

“Sure,” I whisper as I head into the kitchen, smirking at Kayla’s overdramatic ‘suffering’.

As with all celebrities, we all have our public personas- Becca’s the posh girl, Adeola’s the working-class daughter of a self-made man who never lost touch with her roots, I’m the shy, private one (for obvious reasons) and Kayla’s the sweet, innocent one. Of course, in private, we can each be just as a big a diva as any of the others- Kayla more so than anyone. In the month since we started living together I’ve seen a side of her I was only vaguely aware of- everything in her life has to be exactly right, she has to always have the same brands, and if anything of hers breaks- or worse yet, she herself breaks something- the near-tantrum she throws can be astonishing. The surprising thing is, when she’s being demanding and diva-ish… She’s actually quite endearing, as I’m reminded when I hand her her aspirin and her usual sweet smile immediately returns to her face.

“Thanks,” Kayla whispers. “Can- can you give me some privacy, please? Kinda need to make a phone call…”

“…Really?” I ask. “You’re chucking him by phone?”

“Ugh,” Kayla moaned. “We had, like, THREE dates. And none of them were all that great… Privacy, please?”

“Sure,” I whisper as I leave Kayla to her phone call. It’s become something of a running joke among our friends- and a few of our fans- that Kayla and I have trouble finding a boyfriend that meets our standards (or in my case, keeping hold of him). It’s got to the point that Becca’s actually threatened to set Kayla and I up with each other if we remain single for any longer!

After her phone call ends, a stoic-faced Kayla heads to the shower before returning to her room, emerging twenty minutes later dressed in what is becoming her signature look of a clingy, long-sleeved top, a knee-length pencil skirt and high heels. Combined with tying her hair into an updo, it gives her a lot more height than her natural five foot nothing, even if the look does look a bit old for her. Then again, given how youthful she looks, there’s not many looks that don’t look too old for her.

“You okay?” I whisper to the tiny girl.

“Yeah,” Kayla sighs. “Come on, don’t want to keep her highness waiting, do we?”

I smile as I follow Kayla out of the flat, before hopping into a waiting taxi that takes us to a posh coffee shop that Becca picked out for our lunch. Unsurprisingly, she and Adeola are already present, greeting Kayla and myself with tight hugs as we approach their table.

“LOVE this place,” Kayla sighs happily as we sit down.

“LOVE that skirt!” Adeola giggles. “You have GOT to give me the website where you got it!”

“That can be arranged,” Kayla says with a smug grin. “Assuming we’re going to have any time for shopping, the next few weeks…”

“Two weeks roving the country promoting our album?” Adeola asks. “Bring it on!”

“And at least ONE of us will be making an important purchase today, right?” Becca asks as she looks in my direction, making me moan with frustration. “Oh, come on, it IS a big deal, isn’t it?”

“Well- yeah, I guess…” I sigh. “There’s no guarantee she’ll prescribe oestrogen, though…”

“Why wouldn’t she?” Adeola asks. “Sure, you keep to yourself a lot, but ‘Steve’s gone for good, hasn’t he?”

“Well- um, yes,” I reply.

“Steph…” Becca whispers. “You’re- you’re not having second thoughts, are you? I mean sure, the fans have all accepted ‘non-hormone Steph’, but- ugh. I’m not going to pretend to understand what it’s like for you, but my brother DOES understand, and he’s always said that when he started taking testosterone, it was like all the uncertainty in his life just vanished, like he suddenly felt like everything about him was just, well, ‘right’. Don’t you want the same thing?”

“Umm- uh-“ I stammer as I’m suddenly put on the spot.

“Leave her alone,” Kayla says quietly, shaming Becca and Adeola into silence as she gives me a comforting cuddle. “Whatever happens, we’ll all be friends, we’ll all be bandmates, right?”

“Well- yeah, of course,” Becca says as I take several deep breaths to calm myself down. “Sorry, Steph, I know this is a personal thing, I shouldn’t have-“

“It’s okay,” I shrug. “I guess if we learned anything over the past month, what affects one of us affects all the others, heh.”

“No,” Adeola says with a smug grin. “If we learned anything over the last month, it’s that we’re better TOGETHER. Like the name of our new album, what are we?”

“Stronger!” The four of us cheer as I try to mentally prepare myself for my appointment with Beverly.

As I step through the door of Beverly’s posh office, I feel my knees begin to tremble, even though I consciously know I have no reason to be nervous. Becca’s right- the fans HAVE all accepted me as a girl despite the fact that chemically, I’m still 100% male. It’s not like I NEED hormones… But it’s not like I can say with 100% certainty that I WANT them either.

For the past twenty months, I have lived my life first and foremost as a woman, and whilst at the first, that was skin-deep, over time, I’ve grown into the ‘role’. Being a woman comes naturally to me. I love being a girl… But I never really hated being a boy. Pulling on a comfortable pair of jeans never repulsed me. Having hair on my arms or my legs never made me feel uncomfortable. And being someone’s son, or brother… Nikki’s often talked about how, in the last few weeks before she started transitioning, every time she scrubbed away ‘Nikki’ to become ‘Nick’ again, it caused her such emotional distress that she would cry, sometimes for hours at a time. I’ve never felt that kind of distress, the kind of trauma. Sure, I may tick the box that says ‘female’ every time I fill in a form… But does that mean I have as much right as people like Nikki to call myself female? And worse yet, if I did take the hormones… Would it trivialise all the suffering she went through?

“Hello Stephanie!” Beverly says as I sit down, unconsciously smoothing my skirt and straightening my tights as I make myself comfortable. “Feeling nervous?”

“A little,” I confess.

“It’s to be expected,” Beverly says quietly. “It IS a big day… Stephanie, I know you’re not the type of person who likes a lot of waffle, so I’m going to cut straight to it.”

“Okay,” I say, trying to hide my disappointment- it’s clear that Beverly is going to withhold hormones for the time being. In a way, I’m almost relieved in addition to being disappointed- but crucially, I don’t feel as crushed as girls like Nikki undoubtedly would have been in my place.

“…I AM going to prescribe a course of oestrogen for you,” Beverly says, making my jaw drop. “Stephanie, over the past few months, you have demonstrated a conscious and unconscious desire to life the rest of your life as a woman. You fully self-identify as female, and despite your earlier ‘difficulties’, you don’t show any attachment to your former male life. This is more than enough to convince me that your desire to transition is genuine, and as such, I’m happy to start you on HRT. It’ll be a preliminary course to start with, just for six months, but unless there are any major disasters- and I can’t imagine there will be- I’m happy to make it permanent, and we can look toward surgery as well after two years.”

“…Wow,” I mouth, shocked by Beverly’s offer.

“Stephanie,” Beverly says with a smile, “you’ve come a long way from the terrified teenager I met last year. I will admit, there were times when I thought I’d never prescribe hormones, but you’ve grown up a lot in the last few months. So, well, congratulations!”

“Thanks,” I say, still too stunned even to stand up. “I, um, I thought I wouldn’t get them either. Today, I mean, I thought-“

“I can understand you being a little negative,” Beverly says, “especially given everything that’s happened to you the past few months. But you know that I wouldn’t even dream of prescribing hormone therapy if I didn’t think it was appropriate.”

“Yeah, you’ve made that VERY clear,” I say, making Beverly laugh as I remember the many times I abruptly demanded oestrogen from the middle-aged woman, only for her to decline my request equally abruptly.

“Stephanie…” Beverly whispers. “You do- you DO still want this, right?”

“…I guess,” I sigh, making Beverly frown. “I- I wish I knew for absolute certain. I’ve been so over the place these last few months that it’s just, you know, a lot to take in… And, well, two years ago… Two years ago I was just a guy, you know? A guy who occasionally wore women’s clothing for fun… Now I’m apparently- well, medically, anyway- a woman trapped in the body of a man?”

“You wouldn’t be the first and you certainly won’t be the last,” Beverly says with confidence. “You’re right that two years ago, you were a very different person. But that’s exactly my point- you’re a very different person NOW. You’ve grown, Stephanie. Both as a woman and as a person. It’s only right that you get the medical help you need to follow the path you’ve chosen.”

“…Okay, then,” I say with a nervous smile. “I guess… I guess this is it, then?”

“You make it sound almost like a death sentence!” Beverly laughs. “But there’s nothing to be afraid of, there really isn’t. As your body changes, you’ll likely find that you’ll be even more confident in yourself than you have been the last few months.”

“I see,” I reply as Beverly spends the rest of our session explaining the changes that will happen to my body once the oestrogen takes hold. It’s stuff I’m already aware of- breasts growing, hips widening, waist narrowing, skin growing softer and smoother… But it’s the mental changes that interest me the most. Beverly thinks that I’m already thinking and feeling like a woman, and oestrogen will just solidify this feeling- but deep down inside, I’m just as torn up as I always am, and this confusion only gets more pronounced when I leave the office with my prescription in my handbag.

When I arrive back at the flat, Kayla is already there, having changed from her smart skirt and top into a loose, casual shirt dress and translucent black tights and switched on the Xbox for an afternoon of gaming. I smile tiredly as I kick off my flats and sit down next to the tiny girl, tucking my nylon-covered legs underneath me in the same manner as Kayla as I grab a controller and join in her game.

“Hi Steph,” Kayla says sarcastically, making me sigh.

“Hi Kayla…” I mumble.

“…So?” Kayla asks as I try to immerse myself in our game. “Steph, everybody knows where you were today, everybody knows what you were doing… Did- did you get bad news? Is that why you’re being so quiet?”

“I- ugh,” I spit, making Kayla sigh sadly. “I got the prescription. Six months of oestrogen, starting immediately.”

“Oh my god!” Kayla squeaks, pausing the game to give me a tight hug. “This is so cool! Do you have the pills already? Oh my god, we should DEFINITELY have a party to cele-“

“Easy now!” I say, diffusing Kayla’s enthusiasm. “I- I haven’t got the pills yet, just, you know, the paper prescription-“

“But that’s still it, isn’t it?” Kayla asks. “You’re finally going to get to be a girl- well, you already ARE a girl of course, but you’ll- gah, you know what I mean. We should call Becca and Addie, let them know the good news!”

“Well- okay,” I sigh. “But ONLY them. I want... Gah. I just want SOME privacy, you know?”

“So private that you couldn’t even tell your best friend, and she had to pry it out of you?” Kayla asks, making me frown.

“…Sorry,” I mumble.

“S’okay,” Kayla giggles. “Steph… You don’t look as happy as I imagined you would be, I mean, you do still want oestrogen, right?”

“…I’m not 100% sure,” I say, making Kayla frown.

“Well I AM,” the tiny blonde girl replies. “You are not ‘Steve’, Steph. ‘He’ is gone, all that’s left is the girl you really are, and when you start taking those pills, you’ll realise that.”

“No going back,” I whisper.

“None at all,” Kayla says. “So leave the past where it belongs. All that matters is the future.”

“You’re right,” I whisper, though deep inside, I’m still questioning whether or not I truly want oestrogen- or even whether or I truly deserve it.

As Kayla promised, later that evening our flat plays host to a (mercifully small) party to celebrate my ‘achievement’. Becca and Adeola (and their boyfriends) show up first, of course, and both give me the same tight, excited hugs that Kayla did. Nikki and Sarah arrive next, which comes as a surprise, but the biggest surprises are the last two people to arrive- Jamie-Lee Burke and her fiancé Stuart.

“Oh my god, I am SO happy for you!” Jamie giggles, giving me a genuine, friendly hug that I never thought she was capable of giving- not to me, at the very least. “So… How d’you like the taste of them, hehe!”

“I haven’t got the pills yet!” I laugh. “Just the prescription, I’ll be picking the pills up tomorrow. And before you ask, no I do NOT consent to my first pill being filmed for your show!”

“Eh, suit yourself,” Jamie shrugs. “I didn’t want my SRS filmed either, though that is a LITTLE bit more sensitive than just taking a pill, hehe! Speaking of SRS…”

“Or NOT speaking of SRS, as it is WAY too early to even be thinking about it!” I retort, making Jamie giggle.

“…True enough,” Jamie says before grabbing a drink and snuggling up next to Stuart on the sofa.

“So cool,” Nikki sighs as she arrives to grab a drink. “Trust me, oestrogen will be the absolute BEST thing that will happen to you.”

“I guess,” I say. “Nikki… You’ve said, well, hinted in the past that, um, you know, being a boy… That it really, really hurt you, is that right?”

“…It’s right,” Nikki whispers. “Some days I literally couldn’t function, I was that obsessed with the next time I’d, well, ‘become Nikki’. Then, well, I became Nikki full-time, didn’t need to obsess anymore!”

“Well, not about THAT, anyway!” Sarah giggles as she approaches and takes Nikki off to another part of the room with their arm wrapped around each other’s slender waists.

The rest of the party follows in much the same fashion, with the girls quizzing me about my upcoming ‘change’ whilst the boys feign interest (even Stuart, who went through an almost identical- albeit reversed- change to mine). Everyone leaves just before 11pm with wide smiles on their faces, and I can tell that they are genuinely happy for me- I just wish I could show the same amount of enthusiasm.

My anxiety and nerves result in me getting very little sleep as I ponder the future ahead of me. There are only two possible outcomes- either I take the oestrogen or I don’t. If I don’t, I get to carry on the way I have been, living my life the way I want… But all the accusations of deception and lying that I worked so hard to overcome will return ten times worse than before- and may well cost me the job I love so much. But if I do take the pills, I WILL change, and not just physically… And I have to wonder if I’ll still truly be me.

I’m awake when my alarm rings at 8am, signifying the start of a day of work- though today will at least be an enjoyable one, and I have a smile on my face as I dress in a fashion long-sleeved minidress, patterned tights and high-heeled ankle booties. My make-up is, as ever, done to perfection and externally I am the very picture of femininity. Internally… I don’t have to worry about internally, at least not for the next few hours. As Kayla- who is, as always, dressed in her usual smart pencil skirt and top attire- and I head to our waiting taxi, I chuckle with relief that our regular ‘full group’ ballet lessons have been moved from Wednesdays to Thursdays- I’m so nervous today that if I attempted a pirouette, I’d probably vomit all over Krystie’s dancefloor.

“I am REALLY looking forward to today,” Kayla giggled. “I mean, I know we’re supposed to be here to promote the album, but it’s one of these things I always hoped I’d get to do when I signed up for the band, you know?”

“Oh, definitely,” I say with a smile. “Just wish it was my old college that we were going back to…” Kayla and I giggle as our taxi ferries us to our destination, which is a small further education college in the north-east of London. There, we meet up with Becca and Adeola, and all of us have wide grins on our face as we step out into a packed hall to be greeted by cheers and screams from the hundreds of teenagers.

After an a cappella performance of some of our songs- including one from our upcoming album- the four of us are split between groups of students, where we answer questions about our lives (though obviously, not too personal questions), give tips on singing and listen to some of the students (all of whom are studying music) sing. Naturally, we heap praise on all of the prospective singers- they are the ones who’ll be buying our album, after all.

Eventually, our time at the college is up, and the four of us get ready to head back to our respective homes, but before we’re able to leave, I’m called back by one of the college’s tutors, who is stood next to a VERY nervous-looking teenaged girl.

“Miss Abbott?” The tutor calls. “Miss Abbott, I’m sorry, but could I just have a minute of your time, please?”

“Sure,” I say, smiling at the nervous girl. “And it’s okay, I don’t mind being called ‘Stephanie’.” I REALLY don’t mind it, I think to myself.

“This is Ellie, Ellie Blake,” the tutor says as he gives the terrified girl a gentle pat on her shoulder. “She started on a music course here in September and is a big fan of yours… I think it would do her a lot of good if you were able to have a private chat with her, say, for five or ten minutes?”

“Sure!” I say, making the still terrified-looking Ellie grin as she fidgets, before we both follow the tutor into a small office to the side of the hall, where we’re left by ourselves.

“So…” I say, breaking the awkward silence in the small room. “How long have you been a fan?”

“Since I saw your first video on YouTube,” Ellie replies in a small, timid voice. “I- I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be sorry!” I laugh. “If anything I should be thanking you for being a fan!”

“Sorry,” Ellie mumbles, before grimacing. “I, um, I’m a big fan of, uhh… You in particular.”

“I’m flattered,” I giggle, before a look of concern passes over my face as Ellie’s face turns red and she looks like she’s about hyperventilate. “Ellie… Are- are you okay? Do you want me to get someone?”

“No,” Ellie whispers. “It’s- I- I-“

“Take your time,” I say softly.

“I- I- I’m a- I’m a transsexual,” Ellie says, laughing giddily as the nerves escape her body following her confession whilst I look on in shock.

If she does have male genetics, then Ellie is VERY feminine. She has a cute, teardrop-shaped face, her blonde hair is long and shiny, her waist is narrow and her legs are long and slender. In her thick make-up, tight khaki top (which is exposing one of her bra straps), ultra-short skirt and black tights, there’s no way anyone could mistake her for male. Then again, the same thing could in theory be said about me…

“How- how long have you been transitioning?” I ask the relieved young woman.

“Just a couple of months,” Ellie says, her demeanour much more relaxed now that her ‘secret’ is revealed. “Not even taking oestrogen yet… Kinda why I like you so much, heh. Proof that it’s not what you put in your blood that makes you a boy or a girl.” Yeah, about that… I think to myself.

“Do- do you want oestrogen, though?” I ask.

“…I kinda do, I kinda don’t,” Ellie grimaces. “I’m sorry, I know that must sound lame…”

“Trust me, it really doesn’t,” I laugh.

“But, you know, changing myself physically, it- it’s kinda scary, you know?” Ellie explains. “I just wish I’d just been born a girl, wish I could go back in time and somehow change me when I was a baby…”

“If only it was that easy,” I say with a supportive smile that makes Ellie sigh happily as she realises that she really isn’t alone. “Do- do you live with your parents?” I frown as Ellie shakes her head, tears forming in the corner of her heavily made-up eyes.

“They kicked me out when I told them,” Ellie whispers.

“Oh, I- I’m so sorry,” I say.

“I hate them,” Ellie sniffles with pure venom in her voice. “They didn’t even hear me out, made it clear that if I didn’t dump my boyfriend and go back to being a boy, they- they actually said they’d spit on me if they saw me in the street.”

“That’s just disgusting,” I sigh as I give the distraught girl a gentle hug. “People like that don’t deserve to call themselves parents.”

“It wouldn’t be so bad, but I split with my boyfriend a few weeks later,” Ellie moans. “So I had to move out of his parents’ house… I’ve been sofa surfing around friends’ houses ever since.”

“That’s terrible,” I breathe. “Just because you want to live your life the way you want…” I keep listening to Ellie’s story as a pang of guilt flares up inside me, reminding me of just how easy I’ve had it when compared to other transgendered people, especially when it comes to my relationship with my family. The important members of my family, anyway…

“It’s not too bad,” Ellie says, forcing a smile on her face. “I keep reminding myself that Jamie-Lee Burke was kicked out by her parents when she was sixteen, and now look at her, heh!”

“Yeah,” I say. “Do- do you have brothers or sisters, or uncles?”

“Only one brother, and he’s younger,” Ellie sighs. “It’s okay, you of all people shouldn’t have to worry about me! You’ll probably forget I even exist a few days from now…”

“Well, there’s an easy way to avoid THAT,” I say with a smug grin as I take my phone out of my handbag. “What was your surname again, Blake?”

“Yeah,” Ellie said, before frowning in confusion as her own phone bleeped. “Did- did you-“ Ellie gasps as she reads the notification on her phone’s screen, which undoubtedly goes something along the lines of ‘Stephanie Abbott sent you a friend request’.

“Message me anytime you need to talk,” I say with a warm grin. “I might not reply immediately but I will eventually, I promise.”

“Oh my god thank you so much!” Ellie squeaks semi-coherently.

“And you’ll get oestrogen soon, I know you will!” I say with a laugh.

“Thanks!” Ellie squeaks as we head back into the main body of the college, where she heads to her next class- but not before posing for a selfie with me!

As I head back home, the pang of guilt that I’d tried to push aside keeps growing as I think about Ellie, and how hard she’s had things simply because she wants to be a girl, whilst my desire to be a girl is half-hearted compared to hers… And I’ve had everything handed to me on a plate, which now includes the bottle of oestrogen pills that I collect from the pharmacy near my flat.

“Hey Steph!” Kayla shouts as I walk through the front door, pill bottle in hand. “What did that teacher want with you?”

“Uhh… Nothing really,” I half-lie. “Just wanted me to talk to one of the students one-to-one, that’s all.”

“Why did they specifically ask for you?” Kayla asks. “Was the student transgendered or something? …Ugh, sorry Steph, know how egotistical that must sound…”

“S’okay,” I shrug. “And actually… Yes, the student was actually transgendered, had been transitioning for two months, kicked out by their parents, the whole thing.”

“That’s awful!” Kayla sneers, opening her mouth to speak before thinking better of it. It’s obvious what she was going to say, though- that Ellie had been kicked out ‘just like me’, when, of course, I’d never been kicked out in the first place. “Did- did you, you know, give any advice?”

“What little advice I have,” I sigh. “I added her on Facebook, so she can get in touch any time.”

“Is she taking hormones as well?” Kayla asks, making me sigh.

“Not yet,” I answer, putting my own pill bottle down on the coffee table as Kayla gasps excitedly.

“Is- is that-“ Kayla giggles.

“Yep,” I sigh. “Month’s worth, then I go back for more.”

“So cool!” Kayla squeaks, looking at me expectantly. “…Well?”

“Give me a break, it’s been a long day,” I moan, grimacing as Kayla’s face immediately contorts into a frown.

“Steph…” the tiny girl growls.

“What?” I plead.

“You know what,” Kayla sighs. “You wouldn’t be given the pills unless the doctor thought you needed them.”

“It’s not that easy,” I sigh. “It’s never that easy…”

“But why?” Kayla asks. “There have been times when you’ve been desperate for oestrogen, and now that you have it, you’re just going to not take it?”

“Have you ever heard Nikki talk?” I ask. “About how she’d burst into tears because she was that desperate to be a girl? I never experienced that.”

“But you DID always dream about being a girl, right?” Kayla asks, making me nod. “And you’ve achieved your goal, MISS Abbott.”

“Exactly,” I say. “I’ve achieved my goal and I never even needed those pills. If I took them… I dunno. It’d just, you know, trivialise all those people like Nikki who were so desperate for them.”

“If you don’t take them,” Kayla retorts, “it’ll trivialise all the people like your student friend who HAVEN’T got them yet.”

“It…” I begin, before sighing and putting the pills back in my handbag, making Kayla groan with frustration. “Can we just drop this for now, please?”

“For now,” Kayla says in a dark voice as she switches on the television.

The two of us spend the rest of the evening gaming, updating our social media pages and preparing for the fortnight-long promotional blitz that’ll be starting next week, before we both head to bed shortly after 10:30pm. As always, though, I struggle to sleep. It’s almost as if I can hear the pill bottle calling to me from my handbag, along with a ‘voice’ I’d hoped I’d left in the past- the voice of ‘Steve’, reminding me just how much of a fraud I am…

Fortunately, when I wake up the following morning, I’m easily able to suppress my ‘fraudulent’ feelings when, after showering, I pull on a pair of baby pink tights and skin-tight black tank leotard, before tying my long brown hair back into a tight bun. Even under such a tight leotard, my control thong is doing its job, though I still pull on a floaty black skirt to cover myself up.

“Ready?” An identically-dressed Kayla ask.

“Of course,” I reply with a grin as we head down to the waiting taxi. “I’m actually kind excited by the idea of getting pointe shoes next month… Almost makes the last couple of years worth it, heh.”

“It’s a hell of a long time to practice just for one music video,” Kayla laughs. “Really hope what Krystie’s got in mind will be worth it, she says she’s tweaked the choreography like, a hundred times since she first laid it out. Sometimes gets some of her teenage students to dance it just to see what it looks like. Even more so since she had to rework it for four girls instead of five.”

“Yeah,” I laugh.

“Of course,” Kayla says cautiously, “pointe shoes are basically an exclusively female thing. Kinda like, umm, bras, or… You know… Oestrogen…”

“THAT is not something I want to talk about right now,” I say, making Kayla sigh frustratedly.

“Okay,” Kayla says, holding her hands up in mock-defeat. “But you will have to talk about it eventually, and sooner rather than later.”

“But not NOW,” I say.

“Fine,” Kayla huffs.

The rest of the taxi ride passes in silence, but both Kayla and I force smiles on our faces as we exit the car and walk through the front door of the Krystie Fullerton School of Dance, where many of our friends are already present, each dressed in the same skin-tight attire as Kayla and myself. One of the faces in the crowd stands out, however, and I excuse myself from Kayla before walking over to where the tall, slender woman is adjusting the long sleeves of her black leotard.

“Hi Steph!” The woman greets me with her cheeky Manchester accent.

“Hi Natalie,” I reply. “Not seen you here in a while…”

“Duty calls,” Natalie shrugs. “Spent t’ last three Thursday mornings flying back and forth between here and Germany.”

“So cool,” I giggle at the stewardess’s tale. “Wearing a tight blue skirt, seamed stockings and blue high heels, I take it?”

“Naturally,” Natalie says with a smug smile. “How’ve you been, Steph? Understand there was a bit of a ruckus last month?”

“Putting it mildly,” I laugh. “But it’s behind me now… Nat, um, do you- do you mind if I ask, like, a personal question?”

“Depends on how personal,” Natalie replies.

“Are- are you still not taking oestrogen?” I ask hesitantly.

“Nope,” Natalie replies. “I mean yep, erm, I mean, ‘yes I am not taking oestrogen’. Is that- is that, you know, clear?”

“Yeah,” I whisper. “You never- never wanted it?”

“Sometimes,” Natalie shrugs. “But I’m comfortable with who I am. I don’t need a doctor or some pills to tell me who or what I am.”

“I- I guess,” I say. “It’s just- it’s just that, well, I kinda- kinda got prescribed oestrogen on Tuesday…”

“Oh, congratulations!” Natalie says, giving me a gentle hug. “You’ll be throwing away your padded bras before you know it!”

“Yeah,” I laugh. “Assuming- umm, I mean, I haven’t, well, taken any yet…”

“…Ah,” Natalie says. “Is- is there a problem?”

“You might say that,” I sigh. “It’s just- I don’t know if, you know…”

“I’m the last person you should be asking,” Natalie says with a tired chuckle. “I’m not a doctor or a shrink, far from it, heh!”

“But- but you-“ I stammer.

“Yeah, I don’t take oestrogen,” Natalie says. “Because I’m comfortable with who I am, I’m happy, 100%, with my life. Can you say the same thing?”

“…Not really,” I mumble.

“Then it’s up to you to decide if oestrogen’s going to make you happy,” Natalie says, before giggling as she reaches into her dance bag for a pair of stiff, shiny pointe shoes, which she attaches to her feet before stretching one leg high into the air.

“Hey!” Zoe admonishes her lover as she walks past. “Soft shoes to begin!”

“Is that anyway to speak to a fairy princess?” Natalie pleads, pouting and fluttering her big, fake eyelashes at the Frenchwoman, who simple doubles over in a fit of giggles.

“Soft shoes!” Zoe orders between giggles as Natalie smiles and exchanges her pointe shoes for a pair of soft canvas ballet slippers.

“You really are comfortable, aren’t you?” I ask.

“Yeah,” Natalie sighs happily. “You will be too, Steph, oestrogen or no oestrogen, you WILL go to the ball!”

“…As a fairy princess?” I ask, making the northern girl laugh.

“Better that than Prince Charming!” Natalie replies as we head into the dance studio to begin our lesson.

Despite my earlier fears, I manage to get through the lesson without vomiting all over the floor. My anxieties haven’t vanished, of course, but for the hour I’m in the studio I am able to push them to one side by concentrating on my dancing, and on the gracefulness of Natalie as she dances, especially after she changes into her pointe shoes and daintily balances on the tips of her toes, absolutely indistinguishable from any of the other girls.

“You were really good out there,” I say to Natalie as we leave the studio, both of us untying our buns and letting our long, smooth brown hair hang free.

“Thanks!” Natalie giggles. “Of course, I AM shacked up with a ballet instructor…”

“Heh,” I laugh. “Zoe’s a lucky girl…”

“Thanks,” Natalie says smugly. “And I’m flattered, but also taken. And besides, I always thought you went for, you know, transgendered guys?”

“Oh, um, I didn’t mean-“ I stammer.

“S’okay,” Natalie smiles. “And yes, yes Zoe IS a lucky girl!”

“When you’re not stretching my leotards, anyway!” Zoe laughs as she sits in Natalie’s lap and gives her a kiss.

“Hang on,” Natalie complains. “’Stretching’? I’ll have you know we are the exact same size! Besides, you never complain when you wear any of MY leotards…”

“I never wear your leotards,” Zoe retorts, and already I’m smirking at Natalie’s inevitable comeback.

“Not that you know of,” Natalie says, making me giggle even as Zoe frowns.

“Ah, you two are cute,” I say, bringing the smile back to Zoe’s face. “No offence Zoe, but, um…”

“Why is she dating me instead of a ‘real man’?” Natalie asks, making me blush as I nod at the deeply personal question.

“Natalie IS a real man,” Zoe shrugs.

“AND a fairy princess,” Natalie says smugly, giving Zoe another kiss. “Saw a counsellor once who said I was something called ‘bigendered’, male and female at the same time. And it suits me fine.”

“Yeah,” I laugh as I remember back to well over a year ago when I was diagnosed as bigendered, back when ‘Steve’ was just another side of me, equal and opposite to ‘Stephanie’… Before ‘Steve’ became a liability that threatened my sanity and, from a certain point of view, my life.

A lot of things have changed since then, not least me. Now, Dr Phillips believes I’m no longer bigendered, but that I am beyond reasonable doubt a woman trapped in the body of a man. She’s so confident, in fact, that she’s willing to give me medicine that will chemically change me into a woman… I just wish I was as confident as she is.

With the rest of the day free, Kayla heads to Waterloo Station to go home to visit her parents, whilst I head back to my flat to relax. En route, however, I check my phone to find a voicemail from my mother, and it quickly becomes clear that the rest of my day will go a lot like Kayla’s. After changing from my dancewear into a smart black pencil skirt, black tights and red top, I hop in yet another taxi, and before long I’m being greeted with a hug by both my parents as I walk through their front door.

“Hello Steph!” Dad laughs as he gives me a tight, fatherly hug. “You’re looking well, still on that posh superstar diet, I take it?”

“Like the agency would EVER let me eat what I want!” I laugh. “And we’re doing a lot of dancing as well, Jonathan wants us to put out two music videos before the end of the year, so gotta keep in shape, heh!”

“Hi sis!” Danny laughs, emerging from the kitchen and briefly startling me.

“You- don’t do that, you arsehole!” I laugh as I give my brother a hug.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen,” Danny laughs. “So can we find out now why we were summoned around here?”

“Yes,” mum says with a grimace- it’s clearly not good news. “I- I had a call from your brother, he wanted to speak to us, all of us, today.”

“Tom,” I spit, making my parents sigh sadly.

“He IS still your brother,” mum admonishes me, making me blush with embarrassment.

“I know,” I say coldly. “I just wish he didn’t think that I was still his brother.”

“Well he asked to speak to the whole of the family, and that includes his sister, whether he likes it or not!” Mum says firmly. “But before he gets here, what’s been happening with you? We saw you on the local news programme yesterday teaching a load of kids in a local school and I was so proud!”

“We kind-of always hoped that one of you would be a teacher,” dad says. “Obviously, that was never going to be Danny here!”

“Yes yes, thank you father,” Danny snorts as dad chuckles at his expense. “I’ll have you know I’d be a great teacher. Kids love me and I, well, I don’t LOVE them, but, well, you know.”

“Don’t you actually have to know things in order to be able to teach them to other people?” I ask, making dad laugh and making Danny snort again.

“What is this, ‘pick on Danny day’?” My brother protests. “Keep this up, I might actually look forward to Tom getting here!”

“Wonders will never cease,” mum laughs as she hands warm mugs of tea to me and my brother.

“Rachel at work?” I ask my brother, who sighs and nods.

“Yep,” Danny replies. “Barcelona today, won’t be back until very late.”

"Now I do like that girl," mum laughs. "She's sensible and smart..."

"Yes, yes, 'everything I'm not'," Danny laughs. "But yeah, I really, really like her. So glad you were able to introduce us, Steph."

"I hardly 'introduced' you," I retort.

"Well, you know what I mean," Danny shrugs. "If it wasn't for you being a singer, and well, you know... Gaining a sister also got me a girlfriend, heh."

"Yeah, that's why I started transitioning in the first place," I say, making everyone laugh. The conversation continues for another twenty minutes, before a knock at the door silences the room and makes my heart beat faster.

Even though I know there's nothing Tom can do to me, nothing he can do to stop the 'growth' of Stephanie, every time I'm in his presence, I can't help but tense up, and today is no different. The one consolation is that Tom isn't alone- his new fiancée Amanda is stood next to him with a huge grin on her face, a grin that she passes on to me when she greets me with a tight hug as though we'd been sisters our whole life.

"Hi Stephanie," Tom says coldly after greeting the rest of the family.

"Hi Tom," I mumble.

"So, Tom," mum says, diffusing the tension in the room, "why have you called us all here?"

"Mum, dad..." Tom says, a wide, smug grin spreading across his face. "Or should I say, grandma and grandpa?"

"Grand- you- you're pregnant?" Mum gasps as dad's jaw drops.

"Yep!" Amanda squeaks happily, earning yet more hugs from the whole family. "Due around the start of May. We only found out on Tuesday."

"Fantastic news!" Dad laughs as he gives Tom a firm, hearty handshake.

"Awesome, mate!" Danny laughs. "Ahh, I'm gonna be an uncle!"

"And I'm gonna be an aunt!" I exclaim, causing Tom's smile to vanish.

"Yeah..." Tom mutters, clearing his throat.

"...We should do something to celebrate," dad says, breaking the awkward silence. "Maybe go out for a meal tonight?"

"We've actually got a table booked for this Saturday night," Tom says, making me scream internally.

"...Even though you know I can't come on Saturday night?" I spit. "It's the big Halloween party at Charlotte's place, there's no way I'd be allowed to miss that."

"Well it's up to you whether or not you want to come," Tom shrugs, even though he knows full well that it ISN'T up to me. "Danny, you and Rachel coming?"

"Umm, we wanted to go to that party as well," Danny says in a small, stoic voice. "Had our costumes picked out and everything."

"Seriously," I say, "I have money AND connections. I can get us in at a restaurant tonight."

"Oh sure, flaunt your money as well as everything else," Tom snorts, making Amanda look VERY uncomfortable.

"Thomas! Stephanie!" Mum snaps, immediately silencing me and my brother. "Stephanie, what would happen if you missed the party on Saturday?"

"I'd probably get REALLY told off on Monday," I reply. "The Halloween party's one of the biggest of the year, there'll be a lot of press there, I'll be expected to show my face."

"Tom, can you rearrange the booking at your restaurant?" Mum asks.

"I doubt it," Tom mumbles.

"Yes or no," mum insists.

"...Yes," Tom sighs. "I don't see why I should have to, though."

"Mate, you've known about this party for AGES," Danny says. "You knew when it was and that me, Rach and Steph were all looking forward to it."

"Honestly, it's not a big deal," Amanda says.

"It is-" Tom says, before sighing as mum stares sternly at him. "...Fine, we'll rearrange for Saturday after. Will that fit in with your busy social lives?"

"Got nothing planned," I mumble.

"That's settled, then!" Mum says as my anxiety begins to grow thanks to Tom's constant disapproving gaze. "We'll all wear our smartest clothes and have a nice time, isn't that right?"

"Yeah," Danny says.

"This is such good news," mum says, trying to move past the earlier awkwardness caused by my argument with Tom. "Our family just keeps growing!"

"Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?" dad asks, before cringing as all eyes in the room slowly turn in my direction.

"We honestly don't mind," Amanda replies. "Boy, girl... As long as they're healthy and happy, that's all that matters." I can tell from the frown on Tom's face that he does not agree with his fiancée, though I hold my tongue rather than make matters worse.

"That's all we ever hoped for," mum says with a proud grin. "Now we have three happy, successful children."

"I definitely never had any complaints growing up," Danny laughs.

"Except in the run-up to every Christmas and every birthday," dad retorts, making Danny chuckle. "I always did worry about you, you know, because of this so-called 'Middle Child Syndrome'..."

"Nah, you've got nothing to worry about," Danny shrugs. "Like you say: happy and successful!"

"Might we be hearing wedding bells for you and Rachel anytime soon?" Mum asks, making Danny blush.

"Give me a break," my brother laughs. "Only been dating a few months..." I wince as yet again, eyes begin turning in my direction. I'm the only single person in the room, and everyone in the room knows exactly why I'm the only single one. As I bite my lip in frustration, something inside me snaps- I'm fed up with being the elephant in the room.

"I have some news as well, actually," I say. "I spoke to my counsellor on Tuesday, and she's approved me to start hormone replacement therapy." Unlike Tom and Amanda's announcement, mine isn't met by cheers, but by shocked silence.

"Oh, um, well done, sis!" Danny says, giving me a hug that's far more awkward than usual.

"Umm, congratulations, Stephanie," dad mumbles.

"I always thought that you WEREN'T a real transsexual?" Tom asks.

"Thomas!" Mum snaps, silencing the entire room. "Stephanie, we're all very happy for your news... But is this what you really want?"

"...Yes," I half-lie. "Yes it is."

"...Then congratulations," mum says, giving me an awkward hug- it's clear that she knows I'm lying.

Tom, Amanda, Danny and I only stick around for another 45 minutes of awkward conversation, none of it concerning my hormone tablets. I take a separate taxi home, and let out a long scream of frustration once I step through the front door of the empty flat.

Everywhere I look, people are pushing me and pulling in all different directions. Kayla 100% wants me to fully transition. Tom clearly doesn't. Danny and my parents would rather not talk about the topic at all, and I... I wish I knew for certain.

Natalie's words were the most sensible I've heard so far. She doesn't need a doctor or pills to be comfortable with who she is, but the question is, do I? Because one thing's for certain, I'm not comfortable with who I am now. I place the bottle of tablets on the coffee table and stare at it, letting out a long, sad sigh as I do so. To the left of the bottle is one of our Xbox controllers, and to the right, one of my make-up compacts from where I left it this morning. It's so easy to see one as belonging to 'Steve' and one as belonging to 'Stephanie', but the truth is, there's no 'Steve' or 'Stephanie' anymore, there's just 'me'... And do the hormones have any place in the life of 'me'?

I try to distract myself for the rest of the evening by reading up on the publicity work we'll be doing in between taking photos for my Instagram account and playing on my Xbox, but once again, I struggle to sleep- yet again, it's as though I can hear the pill bottle calling me from the living room...

My alarm wakes me just after 9:30am, and I sigh as I shower and dress in a smart black pencil skirt and a clingy grey long-sleeved top, before slipping my feet into a pair of very expensive stiletto heels. Ever since Jonathan took over the full-time running of the agency following Joshua's heart attack, the dress code has eased from 'full suits' to 'suitable for an office but not ultra-formal', which is kind-of a relief, even if I do miss the opportunity to dress up as much as I did when meeting with Joshua. Before I leave for the agency, I take one last look at the pill bottle on my coffee table, before stuffing it into my handbag and jumping into the waiting taxi.

"Hey Steph!" Adeola squeaks, greeting me with a tight hug as I arrive at the agency. "Okay, seriously, those heels. Want!" I giggle as I playfully kick my back leg to give my dark-skinned colleague a better look at the shoes, before we both sit down at the side of the room.

"Is Becca gonna be here?" I ask.

"Her lessons finish at lunchtime today so she'll be here in a bit," Adeola says. "Just had a text from Kayla too, she's on the train and will be here soon. So it's just you and me for now!"

"Ehh... Could be worse," I say, making my friend and colleague giggle.

"So tell me," Adeola asks with a twinkle in her eyes. "The hormones...?"

"...Still not sure yet," I say, making Adeola sigh.

"What have you got to lose?" Adeola asks. "It's not like you'll ever be a boy again, is it? It's not like 'Steve' has anything to go back to, but 'Stephanie'... 'Stephanie' is a hot, young, rich successful, famous singer with the world at her feet."

"All of which I got WITHOUT hormones," I said, silencing the dark-skinned girl.

"Then why not make things easier for you?" Adeola asks. "Take the pills and you get girlier, innit?"

"Well, yes..." I mumble.

"You know," Adeola says in a quiet, sombre voice, "there were times growing up- especially when I was at that fucking boarding school- that I wished I'd been born white, that I didn't have to take the abuse that got flung at me by those small-brained arseholes."

"...I'm sorry," I mumble.

"Don't YOU be sorry, you've never called me- well, you know..." Adeola says. "But the point is, I'm glad I'm black. I'm PROUD I'm black."

"So- are you saying that I should be proud I'm transgendered?" I ask.

"You shouldn't be ashamed of it, that's for damned sure," Adeola says. "You should be who you want to be. And who you want to be is Stephanie, innit?"

"Well- yes, I guess," I reply.

"Don't guess," Adeola says. "Know."

"That easy, eh?" I ask sarcastically, making Adeola laugh.

"It is if you want it to be," the tall girl says as we're joined by Kayla, who we greet with tight hugs, and shortly afterward by Becca, who also gets hugs.

The four of us spend the next three hours being lectured by Jonathan about our upcoming publicity tour, including what to say, what NOT to say, how the tour will fit around Becca's studies, before we're sent on our way. Frustratingly, even though we have a lot of work ahead of us, it's Friday so there's a night out tonight AND it's the biggest party of the year tomorrow, there is only one topic of discussion as we head to our waiting taxi.

"So Steph," Becca giggles. "All hormoned up yet?"

"Ugggh," I moan, making the other girls frown. "Seriously, you girls, I love you loads, but could you PLEASE, well, you know?"

"'Keep our noses out'?" Becca asks. "If you insist."

"I do," I say.

"Fine," Becca shrugs. "Not like we're your friends or anything..."

"Ugh," I moan. "I- I'm sorry, I just- I just need time to, you know, work this through... Find out for myself what it is that I really need."

"Steph," Becca sighs, "I've known you long enough to know that when you say you're 'working something out', what you're actually doing is 'working yourself into a panic thinking about all the worst case scenarios'."

"That's not fair!" I protest.

"...It kinda is fair," Kayla says quietly, making me frown.

"You too?" I say to the tiny girl.

"Hey, don't pick on me all of a sudden!" Kayla retorts. "Steph... You always do this. You always worry yourself so much that you're literally incapable of making a decision... So let us help you!"

"When we say we're your friends," Adeola says, "that doesn't just mean we like hanging out with you or going to parties... It means we're there for you when you need us, you know?"

"Whenever you need us," Becca affirms.

"Thanks," I whisper, wiping a tear from the corner of my eye. "I really, really do appreciate it... But I HAVE to make this decision by myself."

"Hey, we're not going to force feed you the pills," Becca laughs. "But your decision will kinda affect us too, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," I sigh. "And I know what you'd rather I chose... Thanks, I really do appreciate what you're trying to do. But this isn't a decision I can rush."

"You've had three days already," Becca snorts. "What's stopping you from, you know, just taking it to see if you like it?"

"Because it WILL change me physically," I retort, silencing Becca. "And possibly mentally as well, I don't know. Maybe I should put off my decision until after the publicity-"

"No," Kayla says quietly, but loud enough to silence the car. "You're not putting it off, Steph. Because if you put it off until after the publicity tour, you'll then say 'I'll put it off until after Christmas'. Then 'I'll put it off until after the tour'. Then 'I'll put it off until after the third album'. We've known you long enough to know that you'll do anything to avoid making a decision."

"Didn't you have a bottle of pills on you when you did one?" Adeola asks. "And didn't you throw that bottle away without opening it?"

"Yes," I sigh. "But back then I was torn between being 'all Stephanie' or 'all Steve'. I've kinda, you know, compromised..."

"Really?" Adeola asks. "'Cause from where I'm sat, you look 'all Stephanie' to me."

"Me too," Kayla says.

"Me three," Becca concurs.

"There's a lot going on, you know, under the surface that you can't see," I whisper.

"Then let us in," Kayla says. "Let us help you."

"I- I really think I want to be alone tonight," I mumble to exasperated groans from my bandmates.

"Fine, fine!" Becca sighs. "You don't want our help, we can't force it on you. Kayla, you still coming out tonight?"

"...No," Kayla says, making me frown. "I feel like a night in, at least for tonight."

"Honestly, don't stay in on my behalf," I mumble.

"Who says I'm doing anything on your behalf?" Kayla spits. "I thought what we did now was 'do whatever the hell we want without any regard for what other people do or say', wasn't it?" I remain quiet, but my frown more than conveys my response to Kayla's question.

When we arrive back home, I head straight to my room, but not before making a show of putting my pill bottle on the coffee table where Kayla can see it. Once my bedroom door is shut behind me, I leap onto my bed and scream into my pillow, letting all of my anxieties flow out. How dare my friends! How dare they try to live my life for me!

'They're only trying to help,' I hear a voice in my head suddenly say. 'Steve'? I think to myself.

'No,' the voice says. 'Not 'Steve'. 'Steve' doesn't exist anymore, you made sure of that, remember?'

"S- Stephanie?" I whisper.

'Who else?' The voice answers.

"I shouldn't be listening," I whisper. "Doctor Morgan said voices are a sign of too much stress... I need to stop listening..."

'But you know I'm telling the truth,' 'Stephanie' persists. 'All your life you've watched videos of girl bands dancing on stage in sexy costumes, all your life you've seen girls walking around town wearing clothes, make-up, jewellery, hanging out with friends, going to clubs and parties... All your life you wishes that could be you. Well I have news for you, Stephanie: that IS you. What are you so scared of?'

"...Not really being one of them," I say. "I'll always be a fraud."

'You'll never be able to take a pill that will magically change you into a girl overnight,' 'Stephanie' says. 'But you can take a pill that'll gradually change parts of you, over time...' I frown as I grab my iPod and put my earphones in, playing my entire music library- a good chunk of which is, of course, out of Heaven- in an attempt to silence 'Stephanie'. I perform the breathing exercises and relaxation techniques I've learned from Dr Philips and during my time inside the psychiatric hospital, and by the time the music ends, 'Stephanie's voice is nowhere to be seen. What I said, however, still counts- if I'm hearing a voice, be it 'Stephanie' or 'Steve', it means I'm feeling far too much stress... And it's obvious what's causing the stress. The more I put off making the decision, the more anxious I get. If I make the decision, I eliminate all of the anxiety... if only I knew which decision to make.

I remain in my bedroom for the whole night, eventually getting to bed just after 10pm, though as always, I hardly sleep, and when I eventually get up at 9am, I feel almost hungover despite the fact that I didn't go out the previous night.

When I head through to the living room, I'm unsurprised to find that Kayla is already awake. What is surprising, however, is the sympathetic smile on her face, and the first words that come out of her mouth when she sees me.

"I'm sorry," Kayla says, walking over to me and giving me a long, tight hug. "We put you on the spot yesterday. It was wrong, I shouldn't have done it, and I apologise."

"Apology accepted," I whisper, returning Kayla's hug. "And I'm sorry too... Sorry I've been such a pain these last few days. I want- I really want to make my decision, to put this behind me."

"...I know," Kayla whispers. "Anything you need, just ask, or if you need nothing, if you want me to leave you alone, that's okay too-"

"What do you see?" I ask. "When you look at me. Don't say 'a girl' or 'a megastar'. Be honest. Be brutally honest. What do you think of when you think of me?"

"...I think you're delicate," Kayla eventually answers. "I think you're emotionally fragile. Though you do NOT use that as an excuse to throw away the hormones, okay?"

"Okay," I say. "And you're right... It's like, all I need is an excuse to get worked up over SOMETHING."

"Your parents, the lies about transitioning, and now hormones," Kayla sighs. "All of which would have been avoided if you'd just been open and honest from the start about who you were."

"And that's just it," I moan. "I DON'T know who I am. I don't even know WHAT I am."

"I can answer that," Kayla whispers. "WHO you are is Stephanie Abbott, superstar singer and most importantly of all, my BFF."

"Thanks," I whisper, giving Kayla- who truly is my BFF- another tight hug. "And WHAT I am...?"

"...A woman," Kayla says boldly. "And not just because of your hair, make-up or clothes. Or even because of your blood, but because of your soul. Men don't open up the way do."

"I shut everyone out last night," I mumble.

"And do you regret that decision?" Kayla asks.

"Pretty much as soon as I'd done it," I sigh.

"Exactly," Kayla says. "Deep down inside, you're a woman, Steph. You may think you were pretending at first, but maybe, for the first nineteen years of your life, you were just pretending to be a man, and now you are who you were meant to be all along."

"I was a pretty convincing man," I shrug.

"I wouldn't know," Kayla says with a knowing grin. "I never met 'Steve'."

"...You met him plenty of times," I retort.

"No," Kayla says, "I met a woman who was pretending to be a man. Just because your body was flooded with testosterone instead of oestrogen, doesn't mean that 'Steve' was the real you. It's not the hormones that make the man- it's the man that makes the man." I smile as Kayla paraphrases Jamie's words from almost a week ago.

"And the girl that makes the girl," I whisper. "I still don't think I NEED the hormones, though..."

"I don't NEED to be a singer," Kayla shrugs. "I don't NEED to be rich and famous. Nobody NEEDS anything. But I know my life simply wouldn't be complete without all of these things. And Steph, before you say anything... If your life was complete, would you be so stressed out right now?" I smile as Kayla finishes speaking- as always, her words have helped me beyond measure.

Two hours later, wearing a short, fashionable pleated skirt, a low-backed bodysuit and a pair of cute heels, I walk into Dr Phillips's office alongside Kayla, greeting the middle-aged woman with a limp, feminine handshake as we sit down.

"Hello Stephanie, hello Kayla," Beverly says.

"Hi," I say nervously. "Thanks for meeting with us on short notice, and on a Saturday too."

"As long as you don't make a habit of it," Beverly laughs. "I'm surprised you called me, actually, thought you'd be busy getting your costume ready for tonight. Sarah's been working on her and Nikki's costumes non-stop for a week!"

"Ours are pretty much finalised," Kayla says. "There's... not a lot of fabric on them."

"Halloween is kinda the one night a year when a girl can dress like a total slut, and no other girls can say anything about it," I say, making Kayla giggle even as Beverly frowns.

"I'll make sure to pick up a sack on the way home for Sarah, then," Beverly says. "Don't care that she's almost twenty and engaged, as far as I'm concerned she's still a little girl and always will be. But anyway, why did you need to speak to me with such urgency?"

"It's about these," I say, taking the bottle of oestrogen pills out of my handbag and rolling them around in my hand. "I kinda... Kinda haven't opened them yet."

"I had a feeling you might be hesitating," Beverly says. "But I reiterate what I said- I wouldn't have prescribed them to you if I didn't think you were ready for them, at least on a trial basis."

"I know," I say, before opening the bottle, taking out one of the pills and swallowing it whole. Beside me, I can almost feel Kayla's excitement reach breaking point.

"...I see," Beverly says with a proud smile. "If I may ask, what made you change your mind?"

"I didn't change my mind," I say. "I simply hadn't made up my mind yet. Now I have. I know who and what I am, and who and what I want to be."

"You won't see any immediate changes," Beverly says. "I'll repeat what I said on Tuesday- if you feel any emotional instability, stop taking the hormones immediately and call me, we'll likely need to change your dosage. You do, of course, understand that this is just the start of your journey, not the end, right?"

"Oh trust me, I'm very much aware of that," I laugh. "I've got a long way to go..."

"But you won't have to make this journey alone," Beverly says with a warm smile.

"Never alone," Kayla whispers, supportively squeezing my hand as we spend the next hour discussing the next steps of my transition.

Six hours later, I find myself in the middle of a tight group hug as Becca and Adeola learn of my decision, of which they obviously approve.

"Oh my god!" The two friends squeak excitedly.

"Easy, careful with the costume!" I plead, even though my costume- a 'ringmaster' costume consisting of a stretchy tuxedo-styled leotard, fishnet tights, a top hat and a ridiculously tight corset- is very unlikely to crease owing to how tight it is!

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Becca giggles, rearranging her own 'evil princess' dress as Adeola adjusts her own 'sexy ninja'-styled leotard. "But this is so cool!"

"YOU are so cool!" Adeola laughs, giving me another tight hug.

"Thanks," I giggle. "It's, like, a real weight off my mind... Enough to let me kick back and REALLY enjoy the party!"

"Yeah!" The other three girls cheer, though before we head into the bustling party room (the party, as always, being held at Charlotte's house), Kayla- who is dressed in a very skimpy 'blood stained' cheerleader's uniform- takes me to one side.

"I knew you'd make the right decision," Kayla says with a twinkle in her eyes. "No BOY would ever quote Mean Girls! So... Thank you."

"No, thank you," I whisper. "If it wasn't for our chat this morning... I'd probably be in a state of panic right now. Probably wouldn't be able to breathe even without this corset, heh! You really, really are my BFF."

"Yeah..." Kayla says quietly, before grinning. "Now come on, wanna see what costume Sarah came up with!" I giggle excitedly as I follow Kayla into the bustling party, where I spend the rest of the night dancing away what few worries I have left. Sure, it'll be a long road ahead of me, but with the support of my friends and (most of) my family, I'll be ready to knock down any obstacles that come my way. And if my decision helps to encourage girls like Ellie, then so much the better.

But for now, I've got the opportunity to relax and have a LOT of fun- which, like my chance to become the woman I was always destined to be, is an opportunity I intend to grab with both hands!

“Ooh, baby, do you know what that’s worth?” Becca, Adeola, Kayla and I sing into our microphones, trying our hardest not to grin as we’re almost drowned out by several thousand screaming fans. “Ooh, heaven is a place on Earth… They say in heaven, love comes first, we’ll make heaven a place on Earth, ooh, heaven is a place on Earth!”

For the next three minutes, I let the wave of euphoria generated by the screaming fans wash over me as we finish our concert- and our entire tour- with one final song, before a snowstorm of shiny confetti falls from the ceilings, covering the audience and the four of us. I’ve ended the last twelve evenings in a row in the exact same manner, but I’ll never tire of this feeling- especially as I’ve worn the exact same costume for the last twelve evenings in a row.

Like my bandmates, my slender body is wrapped in a tiny, low-cut dress made of a shiny, metallic fabric, underneath which is a stretchy leotard made of the same fabric (with a built-in girdle to keep our waists narrow) and a pair of very warm fishnet tights. On our feet are strappy sandals with a stiletto heel, on our faces is what feels like a month’s supply of make-up, and in our hair is enough hairspray to give it enough weight and volume I’m almost scared of getting whiplash every time I turn my head. And I have never felt as happy, as wonderfully feminine as I do right now- not least because in front of me are thousands of screaming fans who couldn’t care less that for the first nineteen years of my life, I spent every day (or at the very least, most of every day) as a man.

Whether or not they’d be as enthusiastic if I was still chemically a man, however, I couldn’t say. Despite my desire for privacy, my agency insisted on making it publicly known that I started to take oestrogen pills four months ago, citing it as a major ‘win’ for me. And whilst I was initially happy with all the support I received from the fans, a part of me almost wished that I hadn’t started to take the hormones at all… Especially as the changes were not what I was expecting.

I had, of course, been briefed at length about what the transformation would entail, that it would be as much a mental change as it is a physical, but I was still unprepared for the mood swings, the heightened emotions, the increased sensitivity to every little thing… And the lack of physical changes. Okay, as I mentioned, it has only been four months, and at a skinny 5’ 6”, I’ve never been the world’s most masculine man, but it’s almost ridiculous- my chest, hips and backside are the exact same size and shape they were before I began the hormone treatments, as is my waist, though that was always narrow due to diet and exercise. If I were to strip naked, there's be no difference between 'Stephanie' and 'Steve'... Leading me to wonder sometimes whether or not I truly am 'Stephanie' instead of 'Steve'. Even as the crowd scream with excitement, a niggling voice in the back of my mind won't stop telling me that maybe I don't deserve all the love I get from the fans.

Sometimes, I even wonder whether or not I’m actually taking oestrogen at all instead of a placebo- and I have wondered more than once what would happen if I just stopped taking the hormones altogether. It's not like I really needed them when I joined the band, after all. But then, I remember that I’m not the only one who would be affected by such a decision… And that as frustrating, as stressful as ‘Stephanie’s life can be, I’d much rather have this life than the life of ‘Steve’, a wimpy, unemployed loser... And that I was no less frustrated when I wasn't taking oestrogen.

“Thank you London!” Becca yells into her microphone as the song concludes and we’re nearly deafened by the yells and screams of our fans.

“We love you all!” Adeola yells, before we’re led backstage to our plush dressing room, where the four of us share a long group hug.

As nice as the fame and fortune is, as exciting as it is to be able to wear such awesome, girly clothes, and as awesome as it is to be treated as just another one of the girls, the best thing about ‘Stephanie’s life are the people I share it with. Of course, Becca and Adeola haven’t always been entirely friendly with me, and lingering at the back of all our minds is the fact this time last year, there were five girls in the group hug, but with every passing day, the four of us grow closer to the point where we are almost as close as sisters. I know for sure that I feel closer to Kayla than I do to either of my brothers, and the other two girls aren’t far behind.

Our second album- for which our tour was named- was called ‘Stronger’, and right now, that’s what the four of us are. Stronger as a group, anyway…

“I hereby declare the Stronger Tour of 2017 to be a complete success!” Adeola laughs as we break the group hug and begin changing back into our street clothes. As always, I’m bemused by the fact that the other three girls feel no qualms at all about stripping totally naked in front of me, as though I've always been just another one of the girls. Five years ago, the sight of girls undressing would've sent 'Steve' into meltdown- but now, presumably thanks to the oestrogen, there isn't even the slightest 'movement' from me.

Even though it's not needed right now, I obviously keep my control thong in place after stripping off my costume, before covering my body with a pair of shiny black tights, a loose, long-sleeved minidress and a pair of cute black flats. Before long, the other girls are all dressed as casually as I am, and our transformation from superstars into ordinary young women is complete… Though even in my drab clothing, I feel just as happy as I did when I was dressed in my extravagant costume. Possibly even more so, in fact…

“You know,” Adeola says as she ties her long, jet-black hair back into a tight braid, “we ARE in London, we could always go straight back to our homes, come back and pick up our stuff from the bus tomorrow morning…” The four of us look at each other with sly grins on our faces, before grabbing our stuff from our dressing room and heading toward the secluded back entrance- outside which our tour bus is parked.

The second we open the door, however, we realise that our hopes for a ‘stealthy exit’ are doomed. There, between us and the bus, are a throng of hundreds of fans, each one holding their phone in their hands in hopes of getting a snap of the four of us.

“…Sorry,” Jemma- our tour manager- mumbles with a tired grin as she stands in front of the crowd. “If it helps, there are bigger crowds at every other exit.”

“And no gates,” Becca mumbles, before letting out a soft laugh. “It’s okay. Guess it’s the last night of the tour, gotta enjoy it while it lasts!”

“Hell yeah!” I cheer as I follow Becca and the other girls into the crowd, where we spend what seems like an eternity signing autographs and posing for selfies with our fans before finally being allowed onto our bus just after midnight. Before we’ve even taken two steps toward our sleeping area, however, the four of us scream in shock when three familiar, grinning faces jump out of our beds, startling us with loud screams.

“Boo!” Danny yells to break the awkward silence in the bus, which makes Stuart and Jonathan- his partners in crime- laugh as we four girls glare at our siblings.

“You total arseholes!” Becca growls, giving her brother a very hard-sounding punch on his upper arm.

“Hey!” Stuart protests. “Sorry, okay? It was Danny’s idea anyway.”

“Thanks, man,” Danny sighs, before laughing as I give him a well-deserved punch in his arm.

“Arse. Holes!” I growl, which only makes Danny laugh even louder.

“…Yeah, go on,” Jonathan sighs, before laughing as his adoptive sister- who’s taller than everyone else on the bus bar him- thumps him hard in the shoulder. “Seriously though, I wanted to congratulate all four of you on a job well done. This year’s tour makes last year’s seem like a pub crawl!”

“What’s Jon’s trying to say,” Stuart laughs. “Is that you’ve all more than earned TWO weeks’ holiday.”

“MORE than more than earned it,” Jonathan confirms with a grin as we four girls giggle excitedly. “I’ll get some of the roadies in, we’ll clear your stuff off the bus and you can all go home and get some rest!”

“That sounds AWESOME,” Becca laughs. “But…”

“We- we’ve all decided to stay on the bus for one last night,” I say, bringing proud smiles to the three boys’ faces. “Assuming you haven’t put too much ‘boy stink’ into the sheets, of course!”

“’Boy stink’,” Kayla snorts with laughter.

“I’d- I’d kinda hoped you would,” Jonathan laughs. “Same with Uncle Joshua.”

“Think we’d best leave you four to your beauty sleep, then,” Stuart says, flinching as Becca threatens to throw another punch at him.

“Take it you’ve all come from Charlotte’s?” Adeola asks as the boys start to leave.

“Nope,” Jonathan replies smugly. “’Charlotte’s’ has all come here tonight. You think we’d skip out on you on your last night?”

“All the Angels are here?” Kayla squeaks excitedly.

“Yep!” Stuart laughs.

“Well, all apart from Viks,” Jonathan explains. “Actually had to get permission from her to come, heh. Oh, and Kelly, of course.” The mention of Kelly’s name lowers my mood as the boys bid their farewells, and- after a round of Instagram pyjama posts- the four of us climb into our bunks, where we’re quickly asleep.

The reason Kelly was unable to attend the concert tonight was because yesterday, she went into hospital to have an operation that would transform the genitals she was given by nature- a perfectly normal penis and pair of testicles- into a vagina. She’s hardly the first person I know who’s had this operation, and won’t be the last- especially as there’s a chance that within a few years, I’ll be having the operation myself, and that thought terrifies me.

It’s not that I don’t enjoy life as a woman- quite the opposite, in fact. The two years of ‘Stephanie’s life were infinitely better than the nineteen years of ‘Steve’s that came before. But the thought of making a permanent, irreversible change to my body… That’s a thought I simply can’t get my head around. I can always stop taking hormones if I wanted. I could have surgery to remove any breasts that grow. But if I have my genitals cut off… They WON’T regrow. I try to tell myself ‘they’re not part of who you are’, or ‘they’re a part of your old life’, but I’m never able to convince myself of those facts… And worst of all is the fact that everyone else- especially those who have had the operation themselves- expects me to be 100% committed to the operation, as though I can’t otherwise fully commit to my female life.

A gentle knocking on the bus’s door wakes me and my bandmates from our slumber, and I let out a long sigh as I open the door to discover our PA stood there with a smile (and a ton of make-up) on her face… And a vagina inside her underpants, almost like she's rubbing in the fact that she's committed to her life, and I haven't.

“Hey Steph!” Nikki squeaks as she gives me a quick hug. “That was an AWESOME show last night! Have you read the reviews yet?”

“Umm, no,” I mumble. “We just went to bed last night…”

“Meh, you’ll have time to read them all,” Nikki shrugs. “AND go through all the photos on Twitter and Instagram! Two weeks off… Kinda envy the four of you, hehe!”

“Umm, if we’re on holiday, you are too, right?” Adeola asks as she gets up and changes out of her pyjamas and into a casual top and miniskirt- again feeling perfectly comfortable stripping naked in front of myself and Nikki.

“Nope!” Our PA says with a smug grin. “Think your brother was guilty about not making me a ‘proper’ Angel so he’s booked me a few modelling gigs. People are going to be buying swimwear soon, and swimwear firms want a hot, feminine body to show it off…”

“…And we’re all on holiday, so they couldn’t ask us!” Becca quips, giggling as Nikki playfully sticks her tongue out at her.

“It’s decent money,” Nikki shrugs. “Now I’ve got my own place I can’t afford these kinds of extended breaks. Not that I’m TOO jealous, of course.”

“Of course not,” Becca laughs as Nikki sets about helping us to pack away our belongings.

“And I trust you’ll all be around for the big celebration on Friday?” Nikki asks, frowning as I look at her in confusion. “…Friday? March the 3rd? The anniversary of…”

“Oh- god, crap, sorry,” I grimace. “Yes, of course, your birthday, sorry…”

“It’s okay, Nikki,” Kayla reassures the brown-haired girl. “She HAS bought a present for you.”

“I have, honest,” I mumble as my cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“What’s the theme for your party?” Adeola asks.

“Ehh… Probably not going with a theme,” Nikki shrugs. “Jamie wanted to do an ‘everyone wears a leotard’ party as it’s my first birthday since my SRS, but she wanted that to include the boys as well and… No. Just no. Besides, it’s not a ‘big’ one, anyway- that’ll be next year with my 21st!”

“Damn right!” Adeola- who will herself be turning 21 in a couple of months- giggles as I remember back to last month, and my own 21st birthday celebration.

In the weeks leading up to my birthday, Jamie had emailed me almost daily with lists of different themes I could choose for my party. I had the option of dressing as a playboy bunny, as a ballerina, as a ballroom or Latin dancer- I even had the option of an ‘Out of Heaven’ themed party where everyone wore one of our old tour costumes. The closer we got to my birthday, the more Jamie pestered me and the more stressed out I got, until eventually I decided ‘to hell with the theme’ and just went to the party wearing an expensive designer dress. I had fun, of course- probably more so than if I’d had to do one of the complicated dance routines some of the other girls like doing at their party (and which I’m sure Adeola has lined up for her 21st)- but all throughout the party, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Jamie was disappointed in me for not ‘conforming’ and donning an extravagant costume. Fortunately, nothing more was said after the party (Jamie having long since dropped her ‘campaign’ against me), but it just drove home how I’m not ‘living up to expectations’- at least, as far as some people are concerned. Why I can’t just become a woman, can’t become ‘Stephanie’ on my terms is beyond me.

Fortunately, for every Jamie and Nikki in the world, there’s a Becca, an Adeola or especially a Kayla who’s more than happy to accept me for who just who I am, and the loud sigh that Kayla lets out when we step through the front door of our posh flat lets me know that she is just as happy as I am to be back home.

“Ahh, rest!” Kayla laughs as the dramatically flops onto our sofa. “Precious, blissful rest!”

“Really?” I tease the tiny blonde girl. “This from Miss ‘This is my destiny, this tour is my dream’?”

“Oh- shut up,” Kayla retorts as I giggle.

“Coffee, I take it?” I ask as I head into the kitchen.

“Too right!” Kayla says with a laugh. “Steph… I’m really, really proud of you.”

“Umm, okay…” I say with bemusement. “Where’s this come from all of a sudden?”

“Hardly ‘all of a sudden’,” Kayla retorts. “But you know where we were last year after the tour, you know what happened immediately after the tour…”

“My ‘walkabout’?” I whisper, grimacing as Kayla nods.

“We’ve been on such a high for the last two weeks,” Kayla sighs. “There’s bound to be a bit of a comedown.”

“Yeah…” I grimace. “That kinda wasn’t why I went away last year.”

“I know,” Kayla says. “And I know that you’ve not got any of the problems you had last year, but I- any- if you need any help, Steph, I-“

“Thanks,” I say, smiling as I hand Kayla her coffee, which she spends as much time sniffing as she does drinking.

“Besides, if you run off again, that’s the band over…” Kayla muses.

“Oh,” I say with mock offence. “So you only care about me as a member of Out of Heaven?”

“Oh- shut up,” Kayla snorts. “AGAIN. I should punch you for that...”

“Girls don’t punch other girls,” I remind Kayla, who responds by hurling a cushion at me. “I did feel a little for you last night, not having a brother to punch. Or ‘assault’ in Becca’s case.”

“I’m happy enough just having my ‘sister’ here,” Kayla giggles. “Can’t imagine what it’d be like growing up with two brothers…”

“You’ve met Danny,” I say with a heavy sigh that makes Kayla laugh. “And Tom… He was cool.”

“’Was’ cool?” Kayla asks, before letting out a sigh of her own. “S-sorry, Steph… Kinda obvious what you mean now that I think about it.”

“It’s really that easy to forget?” I ask.

“Easier when you’re up on stage wearing a skimpy leotard dress,” Kayla says, making me giggle. “And it’ll be easier with every oestrogen pill you take, too.”

“Eventually, anyway,” I sigh.

“Aww,” Kayla giggles, before jumping off the sofa and heading into the bathroom, returning seconds later with my bottle of hormone tablets and a glass of water. “The more you take them, right?”

“Yes,” I sigh as I place one of the tablets on my tongue and swallow it with a gulp of water. “But it’s not like I can up the dosage or anything, Dr Phillips would skin me if I did that…”

“Oh, definitely don’t do that,” Kayla says. “I just knew you hadn’t taken one yet today. Whether or not YOU knew that…”

“Oh- I forgot once, okay?” I protest.

“…It was THREE times,” Kayla says, making me frown.

“We have busy lives,” I mumble. “Anyway, change of topic! When are you going to see your parents? We’ve got two weeks off, after all…”

“Might go down tomorrow,” Kayla mumbles, clearly unhappy about my abrupt change of topic. “You?”

“Whenever they’re free,” I shrug. “Dunno what shifts they’re on this week, I’ll give them a call later today. I know they couldn’t make it to the concert yesterday so they were probably at work.”

“Okay,” Kayla says, before switching on the television, effectively ending the conversation.

After a morning of relaxing in front of the television and a light lunch, I get ready to make my phone call to my parents, only for it to be rendered unnecessary when a knock comes from the front door of our flat, which I answer to see three very happy, very proud faces smiling at me.

“Hello, superstar!” Dad laughs, giving me a gentle hug. “We saw the reviews for your show, you were AMAZING!”

“Thanks,” I say with a tired laugh as I exchange tight hugs with mum and Danny.

“You BOTH were,” mum laughs as she enters the living room and immediately gives the waiting Kayla a hug of her own.

“Thanks,” my tiny blonde friend laughs.

“I’ve got to admit,” dad laughs as he parks himself on our sofa, “if you’d told me two years ago that our little- our youngest would become a national megastar, I’d have had a hard time believing you!”

“…I know what you were going to say, dad,” I whisper as dad grimaces with embarrassment. “’Our little boy’? It’s okay, I don’t mind you saying that, it IS what I used to be, after all.”

“Yeah, but still…” Dad mumbles.

“You never would have imagined that your little boy would’ve grown up to be a talented and fashionable woman?” Danny asks, breaking the awkward silence in the room.

“Daniel!” Mum snaps, making my brother wince.

“Honestly,” I say, trying to calm the room down. “It’s okay. I used to be a boy, and now I’m a girl. It’s not something I’m ashamed of, that I used to be a boy.”

“Well- okay,” mum says. “If you’ve not got any problem with it…”

“I don’t,” I say firmly, though the look of near-disapproval on Kayla’s face nearly makes me wince.

“Anyway,” Danny says, breaking yet another awkward silence, “we’re not here to talk about embarrassing ‘Steve’ stories, we’re here to celebrate ‘Stephanie’s hugely successful concert tour, right?”

“Stephanie AND Kayla’s tour,” my blonde flatmate reminds my brother.

“AND Becca AND Adeola,” I say. “And if you share any embarrassing ‘Steve’ stories I WILL make you regret it!”

“What, stories like the time when you were two and kept dancing around in your underpants to Spice Girls songs?” Danny asks, making me frown and blush with embarrassment.

“Yes, those types of stories!” I moan as Kayla breaks down in a fit of giggles.

“In hindsight, that should probably have been a clue,” dad laughs, before grimacing again. “Umm, that you were destined to be a star, I mean, not-“

“Pete,” mum whispers, silencing my father.

“…Any other stories?” Kayla asks, breaking what feels like the millionth awkward silence since my parents’ arrival.

“I’ve got you on Facebook- I’ll tell you later,” Danny replies with a loud laugh.

“How are things with you guys, anyway?” I ask, trying desperately to change the topic. “When Danny ISN’T trying to scare the shit out of me anyway.”

“Yes, we heard about that yesterday,” mum says, shooting a stern stare at my brother. “Your father and I are the same as ever. People get sick, need to be driven to the hospital where they need treatment, Danny’s still pouring drinks down his customers’ throats-“

“-Which keeps us in business, if nothing else,” dad says, making mum chuckle despite herself.

“It’s no fun being managed by your girlfriend,” Danny laughs. “But at least we get to spend time together. Kind of. And in the daytime she can work on that tell-all book she’s writing about her time with the airline.”

“…And Tom?” I ask, grimacing as yet another awkward silence fills the room. “How- how’s Amanda, anyway?”

“She’s doing fine,” mum says.

“Keeping our little nibling fine inside her,” Danny says with a grin. “That- that’s a new word I learned the other day, ‘nibling’. Gender-neutral word for, like, niece or nephew.”

“Yeah, I guessed,” I say. If only everything in life could be as gender-neutral… I think to myself. “Are- are Tom and Amanda getting married?”

“Not until after the child’s born,” mum sighs. “You know Tom, he’s never been big on tradition- well, um, not all traditions, anyway…”

“Just the ones he wants to follow,” I mumble.

“How about the two of you?” Danny asks, before realising his faux pas. “Umm, I mean, umm, not that you’re together, I mean, umm, any boyfriends on the horizon?”

“Nope,” Kayla sighs. “National celebrity or not, the fact that I look like I’m nine kinda puts people off.”

“And it should be obvious what puts people off me,” I sigh, smiling as Kayla gives me a quick, comforting hug. “Whatever. I’m only 21. Maybe a few years from now, when the hormones have had a chance to kick in… And, um, the operation…”

“Well, there’s no rush,” dad says. “For any of the things you mentioned. Like you said, you’re 21, you should be soaking up the love of your fans, not planning on starting a family or anything like that.”

“And there’s plenty of love to soak up,” Danny laughs as he gets his phone out of his pocket. “A few tweets from last night- ‘xxchloegirl333’ types: ‘OMG OMG Out of Heaven were SO AWESOME!’. ‘therealkristquin’ types: ‘Stephanie Abbott is a total GODDESS!!’ ‘xsuriyam2k2x’ types-“

“Yes, yes, thanks,” I say with an embarrassed laugh.

“I think the point your brother’s trying to make,” mum says, “is that you have so, so much going for you right now. You need to remember that-“

“I’m not going to run off again,” I say firmly. “I promise. Honestly.”

“Good,” mum whispers, clearly on the verge of tears.

“Back then I didn’t really know who I was,” I say. “I’m sure now. I AM Stephanie. I’m committed. 100%.”

“No regrets about the, you know, girl pills?” Danny asks.

“Only that I didn’t start taking them earlier,” I say, though deep inside, I’m still not fully convinced. There are days when I just wish I’d been born a girl and avoided all of the hassle and trauma involved with transitioning. There are days- like today- when I look back on my days as ‘Steve’ with fondness, but wish that I’d committed to ‘Stephanie’ a lot earlier than four months ago. And there are days, however rare, when I wish that ‘Stephanie’ had never existed at all… Especially not when every tiny aspect of my life is being scrutinised by dozens of paparazzi and thousands of fans.

Sometimes I ask myself whether or not I’d have had the courage to transition if I’d failed the initial audition for Out of Heaven. And the answer is… I honestly don’t know. Just because girls like Jamie, Nikki and Kelly committed to transitioning at an early age doesn’t mean I have to, and it wouldn’t have made my transition any less genuine if I’d chosen to wait until I was older. My friend Janet didn’t start transitioning until she was in her forties (having had the urge to crossdress her whole life- like me), but she’s as legitimate a woman as Jamie, Nikki or Kelly… Can I say the same, though?

Mum’s right, though. I DO have so much going for me. There were days when I was younger when I used to literally dream of being able to live life as a girl, to hang out with girl friends, to be a singer and get to wear beautiful costumes… When I was thirteen, I watched the Brit Awards and saw a performance by Girls Aloud where the girls were all wearing tight, skimpy gold leotards, and the sight nearly sent my teenaged body into meltdown- not because I was particularly attracted to the girls, but because the thought of being able to sing and dance on stage wearing such an unashamedly tight, sexy costume was the single most exciting fantasy I had ever imagine… And it’s come true for me. Twice. Even more than that if you count the numerous music videos and television appearances our band has made.

My parents depart later in the afternoon (both have early shifts at work tomorrow) closely followed by my brother, leaving me alone with my flatmate, who has an odd, stern expression on her face.

“…What?” I ask.

“I- ugh, I dunno,” Kayla sighs. “It’s just hearing you say ‘I’m not ashamed of being a boy in the past’… It’s a little weird, you know? I mean, Jamie and Nikki almost never talk about, well, ‘James and Nick’.”

“Different people transition in different ways,” I shrug. “Kayla… I AM committed. Honestly. ‘Steve’ isn’t coming back and ‘Stephanie’ isn’t going anywhere. I promise. Now, seriously, when are you going to go and see your parents?”

“I’ll go down tomorrow,” Kayla sighs. “You just want the flat to yourself, don’t you?”

“Not ‘just’,” I retort with a smug grin. “Actually, to be honest, I prefer having company around… One thing I learned from my ‘trip’ last year is that bad things tend to happen when I’m on my own.”

“Good, then it’s decided,” Kayla says with a grin even smugger than mine. “You can come with me tomorrow!” I roll my eyes at Kayla’s order, but the thought of spending a day out with Kayla- even if it is just visiting her parents- genuinely brings a smile to my face.

Indeed, as I apply my make-up the following morning, I actually feel excited about the day ahead. My look for the day is very casual, but unashamedly feminine- black tights, a flared minidress and flats- as opposed to Kayla’s typical ‘serious’ look of a pencil skirt, high hair and high heels. As we head through the concourse of Waterloo Station, though, I can’t help but notice that I’m doing a better job of blending in with the other girls than Kayla is. Of course, we don’t blend in well enough to avoid several autograph and selfie requests before getting on our train!

Ninety minutes after we left London, the two of us arrive in the coastal city of Southampton, and a short taxi ride later brings us to the middle-class suburban house of Kayla’s parents. With it being a Monday, Kayla’s father is obviously at work, but her mother greets us both with long, tight hugs before ushering us in and out of the cold February air.

“Come in, come in!” Mrs. Ford urges us. “I’ll get the kettle on, you two just sit down and relax, after the two weeks you’ve had you deserve a little rest!”

“Thanks, mum,” Kayla says, kicking off her heels and dramatically flopping onto the sofa just as she’d done yesterday morning. I sit down next to Kayla in a much less over-the-top, much more feminine manner, keeping my knees pressed tightly together as I smooth my dress over my thighs.

“I take it you girls have read the reviews?” Mrs. Ford asks.

“That’s what we spent practically all of last night doing,” Kayla laughs. “Reckon management will want us hard at work on album number three as soon as we’re back from our break.”

“Especially given the rumour I heard that says one of you girls will be on Strictly this year!” Kayla’s mum says, making me and my friend roll our eyes.

“Don’t believe everything you read in the papers,” Kayla retorts.

“Oh, I learned that last year when the press tried to tell me that my daughter was moving in with a footballer,” Mrs. Ford says, making her daughter blush and groan in frustration.

“They didn’t say we were ‘moving in’,” Kayla sighs. “They just got photos of us out on a date.”

“Stood in front of an estate agent,” Mrs. Ford retorts, making her daughter groan once again.

“Checking our phones!” Kayla pleads. “Honestly, the press pays FAR too much attention to my love life. Or lack of one.”

“Price of fame,” I shrug.

“You’re as famous as I am and you don’t have it anywhere near as bad!” Kayla protests. “And don’t say ‘the press have other things to focus on’, that never stopped the press from hounding Jamie-Lee.”

“Fair enough,” I mumble.

“I still say you should never have split up with Jack,” Mrs. Ford says, eliciting another frustrated sigh from her daughter. I’m beginning to see why Kayla was so reluctant to come home…

“Mum!” Kayla protests with an angry huff.

“Well I’m sorry,” Kayla’s mum sighs. “But you have to admit, you WERE happy with him.”

“We were sixteen,” Kayla snorts. “We were kids, barely even hung out together.”

“You spent most days and nights in each other’s pockets,” Mrs. Ford retorts.

“PLEASE can we change the topic?” Kayla sighs.

“Okay,” Mrs. Ford says, holding her hands up in mock-surrender. “Stephanie, are you going anywhere in your two week break?”

“Umm… Nothing planned,” I say, grimacing as Kayla’s eyes go wide at the thought of me ‘going anywhere’. “There are quite a few birthday parties the next couple of weeks, we’ll probably be expected to show our faces at those.”

“Ooh, of course,” Kayla’s mother says, as though she’d just remembered something. “Your friend Lauren’s birthday is at the start of March, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Kayla says, her frustration levels clearly rising. “A week on Thursday. But we’re probably NOT going to be invited to her party…”

“Just because you don’t work together anymore, it doesn’t mean you can’t still be friends,” Mrs. Ford says. “It’s not like the two of you were an item or anything.”

“Mum!” Kayla protests.

“Sorry, sorry,” Mrs. Ford says. “I’ll go and get your teas, I suppose…” I smile sympathetically as Mrs. Ford leaves the room, before trying not to giggle as Kayla lets out a long, frustrated sigh.

“She’s not THAT bad,” I say, making the tiny blonde girl snort with laughter.

“She not YOUR mum,” Kayla sighs. “I dunno, maybe it’s because neither of us have any brothers or sisters, we’ve always had this weird mother-daughter relationship, the second I turned eighteen she started treating me as just another adult. Especially after I became a national celebrity at the age of seventeen…”

“This may sound selfish,” I mumble, “ but it’s kinda good to know I’m not the only one who gets stressed out at times, especially due to family.”

“…Tom?” Kayla asks, smiling sympathetically as I take my turn to sigh with frustration.

“Here you go,” Mrs. Ford says with a wide grin, interrupting mine & Kayla’s conversation by pushing hot, sweet mugs of tea under our noses. Naturally, this also prompts the conversation to return to talk to Kayla and her childhood- not that I mind, of course, after Kayla’s demands yesterday for embarrassing ‘Steve’ stories!

Fortunately for Kayla, her cringes ease off later in the afternoon after her father returns home from work and the topic of conversation becomes a lot more mature. If Kayla thought her mother treated her like she’s just another adult, then her father turns it up to eleven- the way he speaks to us is polite, but it’s as though he’s talking to another middle-aged businessman. It’s no surprise Kayla’s so mature- growing up in this household with no brothers or sisters to play with, she’d have had no choice but to be mature.

It’s also no surprise when, after a filling dinner, Kayla drags me up to her bedroom (where we dumped our cases upon arrival) where she immediately strips down to her underwear and starts getting ready for a night on the town.

“Ugh,” Kayla moans as she sits down at her dresser and starts enhancing her make-up. “Realise yet why I usually avoid coming home?”

“Your parents aren’t THAT bad,” I mumble. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever been in your bedroom before…”

“Umm, I’m assuming you mean THIS bedroom, right, and not the one at home?” Kayla asks, giggling as I nod. “Yeah, normally I only prefer bringing men into my bedroom, hehe!”

“Why ARE you still single, anyway?” I ask, grimacing as Kayla groans with frustration.

“Oh, not you too, MUM!” Kayla groans.

“Sorry, sorry,” I sigh as Kayla frowns at me. “But you’re rich, famous and cute, you have any guy you wanted, you know?”

“Umm, look who’s talking?” Kayla retorts as she makes way for me to enhance my own already-thick make-up at her dresser. “Seriously, Steph. Even- no, ESPECIALLY for someone with your, you know, genetics…”

“I’m NOT looking right now,” I retort.

“But if the right guy were to come along?” Kayla asks. “I mean- and stop me if this is a sensitive subject- but you had a good time with Kurt, right?”

“We never had any ‘good times’,” I say with a sigh. “We were both pre-op, it would’ve been too awkward…”

“I didn’t have sex with any of my most recent boyfriends either,” Kayla shrugs. “I don’t want a boyfriend just for a quick shag, Steph. I want- you know? That whole companionship thing, someone you can snuggle up next to on a sofa on a cold winter’s day, someone you can share all your feelings with…”

“…And for these things, you want a MAN?” I ask, making Kayla giggle uncontrollably.

“All those things AND sex,” the tiny blonde girl laughs. “And yes, I know I’m going to be waiting a while for someone who can tick all my boxes…”

“Never heard it called THAT before,” I retort, giggling as Kayla hurls her tiny black clubbing dress at me. “Thanks, but I somehow doubt this will fit me!”

“…Challenge accepted,” Kayla says with a wicked grin before reaching into my overnight bag and pulling out my own little black dress. Before I have the chance to rise from my chair and stop her, Kayla steps into the dress and zips it up, leaving us both in fits of laughter when we see just how badly it fits her.

“Oh my god!” I giggle, before stepping into Kayla’s dress and grimacing as I’m only able to pull it as high as my knees.

“Careful!” Kayla squeaks. “Don’t tear it, for god’s sake!”

“Buy another one,” I say, sticking my tongue out and reducing Kayla to another fit of giggles. “Seriously, thanks for making me feel fat and ugly…”

“You saw my parents, it’s not my fault I’m barely five feet tall,” Kayla snorts. “And you have a 26 inch waist, this dress is only just too big for me! Well, too wide, anyway…” I smile as Kayla pinches together the fabric at her waist to show how little difference there is between out waistlines. “Might wear this out, actually…”

“You dare and I swear I’ll pull this higher,” I say, making my friend giggle again as she steps out of the dress (without unzipping it first, much to my chagrin).

“Okay, enough fun,” Kayla laughs as we swap dresses and zip each other into the tight, revealing garments, before slipping our feet into extra-high black stilettos, putting on our flashiest jewellery and heading downstairs to the taxi that will ferry us into the city centre.

A short while later, Kayla and I have wide smiles on our faces as we’re ushered into the VIP section of probably the busiest nightclub in the city, past gaggles of girls who are obviously excited to be in the same club as a pair of celebrities, and several groups of loud, rowdy boys who are also obviously excited to see myself and Kayla- but for very different reasons! After Kayla and I sit down with our complimentary glasses of champagne, we carefully survey the crowd of energetic clubbers.

“Soo…” I tease my best friend. “Any hunky guy down caught your attention?”

“Ugh, try ALL of them,” Kayla snorts. “Reckon you or I could have our pick of any of them too- as unladylike as that might sound!”

“But- let me guess- none of them are ‘snuggle up with on the sofa’ material?” I ask.

“Got it in one, Miss Abbott,” Kayla laughs. “Tonight is about FUN, not that other word that begins with an F and a U!”

“You really could think I- by which I mean me, the transgendered Stephanie Abbott- could have my pick of any of the guys?” I ask. “Even when they know what’s in my thong?”

“REALLY,” Kayla giggles. “Steph, you have spent the last two years transforming yourself- with professional help, I might add- into a hot, sexy GODDESS. We go down there and dance and we will have the attention of EVERY boy down there. I promise.”

“I dunno…” I mumble.

“Trust me!” Kayla laughs, downing her champagne and grabbing my hand.

“Umm, Kayla, shouldn’t you be taking it easy with the booze?” I ask. “It’s never really sat well with you in the past…”

“I’ve only had one glass,” Kayla says as we head down to the crowded dancefloor. “And I’m going to be too busy dancing to drink, anyway! Now come on!”

I put a brave smile on my face as I finish my champagne and follow Kayla into the throng of dancers where, as Kayla promised, the two of us very quickly become the centre of attention. We spend the next two hours dancing the night away as guy after guy comes over and dances with us in the futile hope that either of us might turn over or ask for a phone number. A quick glance over at Kayla shows that she’s adopted the ‘window shopping only’ stance as well.

But most gratifying of all is that none of the guys I dance with- not one- has the uneasy look in their eye that says ‘am I really dancing with a man’… Especially as I’m struggling to believe myself that I’m dancing with another- no, not another, just A man. It’s not even like I’m THAT physically attracted to them, but the fact that they view me as a hot, sexy woman, as a goddess… That sends ‘tingles’ through my body that I haven’t felt in a long, long time. Not since I first started dressing up as a woman, anyway… At the back of my head, there's a tiny, minuscule voice that's almost making me question what I'm doing, but the truth is that I'm liking this, all the attention I'm getting. No, not liking- I'm LOVING everything about this.

Kayla and I remain at the club until just after 11:30pm- I have to be up early tomorrow to return to London, hence the relatively early exit. Of course, that doesn’t stop a couple of paparazzi from snapping us as we climb into our waiting taxi back to Kayla’s parents’ home!

“Shh!” Kayla urges me as we silently creep up the stairs toward her bedroom, our huge, heavy heels in our hands.

“I thought your parents saw you as just another adult?” I whisper.

“They do,” Kayla replies. “They just get REALLY angry if I wake them up!”

“Understood,” I say, before letting out a sigh of relief as Kayla unzips me from my dress and I remove my jewellery. “Ahh… Tonight was FUN.”

“Wasn’t it?” Kayla giggles.

“That a club you went to much before you moved to London?” I ask as Kayla changes into a loose, long t-shirt and climbs into her bed. “Like, with your school friends?”

“I moved to London when I was seventeen, remember?” Kayla replies. “Never had the chance to go clubbing with school friends… Never really had that many school friends, actually.”

“I did wonder why you didn’t invite anyone to come out with us,” I mumble. “Figured that as a celebrity, you could snap your fingers and get any of the girls in your year to follow you.”

“Yeah, it’s never that easy,” Kayla sighs. “I would say ‘you probably know that’ but then again- and I DON’T mean anything nasty by this- you- I, um, I assume you wouldn’t be able to get anyone from YOUR school to come on a night out, right?”

“I deliberately avoid the clubs in London where they usually hang out,” I sigh.

“You want to leave ‘Steve’s life as far in the past as possible?” Kayla asks.

“Those parts, yes,” I reply. “Even if I was still ‘Steve’.”

“Lucky for you that ‘Stephanie’ is rich, famous and sexy!” Kayla giggles. “I saw the look on your face when you were dancing with those guys… Half expected you to go home with one of them, hehe!”

“No chance of THAT happening,” I snort. “Is the sofa all made up? I remember you saying your parents converted your spare room into a study…”

“Why bother with the sofa?” Kayla asks, pulling back the covers of her double bed and patting the spot next to her. “Come on… It’s cold, I want someone to cuddle up to. You’re not a man- huh, that needs repeating. You’re NOT a man. But you’ll do for tonight.” I giggle, before pulling on my soft cotton nightdress and climbing into bed next to the tiny blonde girl.

“You’re… You’ve kinda, you know, got ‘adventurous’ lately,” I say, laughing as Kayla shrugs.

“Not the first time I’ve slept with a girl,” Kayla says. “By which I mean SLEEP. As in ‘closing your eyes and stopping being awake’, nothing more.”

“First time I’ll have shared a bed with anyone,” I muse. “Never imagined you’d be my ‘first’, heh. Always… Always imagined that’d be Kurt.”

“Yeah, well you only have yourself to blame there,” Kayla reminds me, before sighing and giving me a gentle cuddle. “You know… You really should find yourself a man. Even if said man is transgendered, like Kurt or Stuart, they’re no less men than you are a woman.”

“I know,” I mumble.

“Do- do you miss Kurt?” Kayla asks, before sighing. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t-“

“A little,” I sigh. “And it’s okay, I guess this is just, you know, ‘girl talk’… Even if you are really, really pissed.”

“I had TWO glasses of champagne,” Kayla retorts.

“You have ZERO tolerance for alcohol,” I remind the tiny girl, who simply giggles in response.

“Fair enough,” Kayla sighs. “Guess we’d better get some sleep, then. G’night, Steph.” Much to my surprise, Kayla then giggles excitedly, before leaning in to me and giving me a quick, soft kiss on my lips. I also giggle at the unexpected gesture- and Kayla’s subsequent rolling over in bed and humming ‘I kissed a girl and I liked it’- but as I fall asleep, my main emotion is surprise- surprise at Kayla making such a gesture, and surprise at the strange tingles it created in my body…

Naturally, when my alarm wakes me the following morning, it takes me a while to shake the fog of the previous night out of my head, but a quick glance over at Kayla quickly reveals that she’s struggling a lot more than I am, and by the time I’ve washed my face, brushed my hair and applied my make-up, she still hasn’t opened her eyes.

“Kayla…” I tease, trying not to giggle as the tiny girl moans in pain. “Kayla… How, exactly, can you be THIS hungover from two glasses of champagne?”

“Piss off,” Kayla moans, making me snort with laughter. “I told you I had no alcohol tolerance…”

“No, I told YOU that,” I retort, barely stepping back in time to avoid the pillow that Kayla lazily swings at me. “How long you staying in Southampton?”

“I’ll be back Wednesday night- tomorrow night,” Kayla mumbles. “Need to be back for ballet on Thursday.”

“Umm, we DO have two weeks off, you know?” I laugh. “We won’t be rehearsing for Krystie’s next video anytime soon.”

“Meh, whatever,” Kayla moans, before pulling her sheets back over her body. “Now let me sleep, please…”

“Never thought you’d be the first person to ever kick me out of bed, either,” I say, making Kayla giggle despite her hangover.

“I’ll see you tomorrow evening,” Kayla laughs as she pulls her sheets over her head.

After dressing for the day in a comfortable, warm pair of black tights, a stretchy striped long-sleeved bodysuit and a knee-length black denim skirt, I pull on my coat and a pair of cute flats and head downstairs to my waiting taxi, making sure to say goodbye to Mrs. Ford and thank her for her hospitality before I leave.

One train ride and two taxi rides later, I let out a long sigh as I walk through the front door of my posh London flat and collapse on the sofa in as dramatic a fashion as Kayla did two days ago- despite the fact that there’s no one here to witness it.

After taking a selfie for my Instagram (the bodysuit I’m wearing and several like it was given to me free in exchange for publicity) I relax back on the sofa, where my mind immediately returns to the club last night, and Kayla’s words in bed shortly afterward.

Back when I was ‘Steve’ the notion that I might one day have a boyfriend was unthinkable- I wasn’t a gay man, simple as. Then again, I was never really a heterosexual man, either. And just because I wasn’t a gay man, it doesn’t mean that I can’t be a straight woman. I’ve told that on occasion, hormone replacement therapy can cause a person’s ‘alignment’ to shift, it can make certain characteristics of the genders more attractive- characteristics such as broad shoulders or bulging pecs…

When I went out with Kurt, it was never really a ‘serious’ thing. I was still in hiding- pretending I was taking oestrogen when I wasn’t- and having a boyfriend just helped my ‘disguise’. However, the more time I spent with Kurt, the more attracted to him I became, and I know he was attracted to me too… The fact that he’s now dating another transgendered woman just proves that (even if Kelly is a lot more feminine than I am, both in looks and in how she acts). But Kurt- for obvious reasons- was never a macho hunk of a man. He was short, slender, had delicate features… But as Kayla pointed out, he was as much a man as I am a woman. And I AM a woman. I never felt more girly than when I was snuggled up on the sofa in Kurt’s arms, or when he kissed me…

The fact remains, though, that Kurt and I never had sex- or, indeed, engaged in any sexual activity beyond kissing. It’s easy to blame that on us both being pre-op, but it raises one uncomfortable question- would I have been as attracted to Kurt if he’d been post-op- or better yet, a fully-functional genetic male? Dancing with guys is fun. Kissing guys is fun- well, kissing Kurt was certainly fun. Anything more… Am I being homophobic? Or, in my case, heterophobic to recoil at the thought of penetrative sex (with me obviously being the one to get penetrated)?

One thing’s for certain, history has always shown that the longer I spend thinking things over on my own, the more stressed out I get and the more likely it is I’ll do something extremely irrational. Fortunately, I’ve got an appointment with Dr Phillips this afternoon, but that’s still hours away, I need to find something to do in the meantime to distract myself, someone to talk to…

A quick look on Facebook shows that none of my immediate friends are available. Kayla’s obviously still in Southampton, Becca’s in a field somewhere in Middlesex getting her horse ready for a competition she’s participating in tomorrow, and Adeola’s gone with her. Tom’s at work and so are my parents, Danny and his girlfriend will still be in bed after work yesterday evening, and Jamie… That’s a road I only want to go down as a last resort. I’m not close enough to any of the other Angels to ask for help, which leaves only one person I know for sure is free right now…

‘Hi Nikki!’ I type, followed by a smiling emoji.

‘Hey Steph!’ Nikki replies almost immediately. ‘You enjoying your holiday?’

‘Hell yeah!’ I reply, which Nikki replies to with a grinning emoji.

‘I saw the photos from last night,’ Nikki types. ‘You still down south?’

‘Nah, just got back to London,’ I reply. ‘Kinda at a loose end… You free? Sarah’s at uni today, isn’t she?’

‘Just about to meet up with her for lunch,’ Nikki types, making me groan with frustration. ‘You can come along if you want, reckon no one’ll mind. You can get to know Jacinta a little better too.'

‘Thanks, maybe another time,’ I reply. Right now, what I need is to talk one-on-one with someone who understands what I’m going through, not a lunchtime gossip session. Especially with someone as ‘full-on’ as Nikki’s friend Jacinta (and, inevitably, Jacinta’s weird multi-coloured friend Ophelia).

‘Your loss,’ Nikki types with a smiling emoji, obviously not too offended by my refusal. ‘See you Friday if not before!’

‘Ttyl,’ I type as Nikki goes offline, once again leaving me alone with my thoughts.

After eating a very quick lunch, I try to distract myself by playing on my Xbox- the new Halo Wars game came out while we were on tour, but even this can’t draw my mind away from my situation as I find myself asking over and over again: am I REALLY a heterosexual girl?

I switch off my game after an hour and return to my iPad to see if anyone is online on Facebook, but much to my frustration, everyone is either unavailable or, worse yet, someone I don’t want to talk to. Out of desperation, I open up my full contact list to see if anyone else is available- but the first name I see with a green dot beside it just makes me even more frustrated.

‘Kurt Vance- Online Now’, the screen reads as I open up a new message window to the attractive Canadian transman. This is a bad idea, I think to myself.

‘Hi Kurt,’ I type, grimacing immediately after sending the message at how familiar it sounds- as though I was talking to an old friend, rather than an ex. Then again, Kurt and I HAVE remained on good terms since we split up…

‘Oh, hi Steph,’ my ex-boyfriend replies after a few seconds. ‘What’s up?’

‘Not much,’ I reply. ‘Bored, went to Southampton with Kayla yesterday but home alone now.’

‘Hope you’re resisting the urge to dress up in Kayla’s clothes,’ Kurt types, making me giggle. ‘Umm, sorry if that sounded insensitive…’

‘It’s okay, I could use a laugh right now,’ I say with a smiling emoji. ‘I don’t think I ever, you know, apologised for what I did last year.’

‘It’s okay,’ Kurt types. ‘It was a long time ago, I’ve moved on. You should too.’

‘I guess,’ I reply. Easy to say when you’re now dating a supermodel, I think to myself.

‘Besides,’ Kurt types, ‘you could probably get a hotter boyfriend than a short, skinny, ginger Canadian, right?’

‘I haven’t yet,’ I type with a smiling emoji, before grimacing- it’d probably be best if I DIDN’T hint that I wanted Kurt back…

‘I should probably get going now,’ Kurt types, making me groan. ‘Just heading off to see Kelly in hospital.’ So much for this conversation, I think to myself.

‘Give her my love,’ I type, which earns a reply of a single smiling emoji before Kurt logs off, again leaving me alone with my frustrations.

I don’t know what I’d hoped to accomplish by messaging Kurt. An acknowledgement that I was an attractive woman? If I wanted that I can just log into my Instagram account and read the comments on my latest photos. Some acknowledgement that I wasn’t a crappy girlfriend? The only reason I’d need that is if I wanted him back… Or wanted another boyfriend to take his place. Maybe I just didn’t want to be alone today…

I have a weary smile on my face as I arrive at Dr Phillips’s office forty minutes before my scheduled appointment time. Despite my fame, I still have to wait my turn, so I spend the intervening time browsing the comments on the photo I uploaded to Instagram mere hours ago. In that time, it’s earned thousands of likes and hundreds of comments, but I’m barely able to focus on the words on the screen as I’m that focussed on what I want to say to the counsellor- and that concerned about how she’ll respond to me.

“Hi Stephanie,” Dr Phillips says as I enter her office, subconsciously smoothing my skirt and adjusting my bodysuit as I sit down. “I love that top, think Sarah’s got one like that.”

“Thanks!” I giggle as I show off the detail of the bodysuit for the middle-aged woman. “It was yet another endorsement, heh.”

“Ah, the difficult life of a national celebrity,” Beverly laughs. “Speaking of which, I assume we have a lot to discuss from the last two weeks?”

“Yeah,” I laugh. “But probably not in the way you think. During the actual tour itself we were kept so busy with promotional gigs, autograph sessions, Q&As, that sort of thing… Barely had any time to stop and think.”

“But now you have two weeks off, you have nothing but time to stop and think?” Beverly asks.

“And how,” I say with a derisive snort of laughter. “I spent yesterday in Southampton- with Kayla and her family- but I’ve spent most of today on my own in my flat.”

“Ah,” Beverly grimaces. “And you and I both know that rarely ends well.”

“Yeah,” I whisper. “I- I ended up messaging Kurt, just to say hi…”

“Your ex-boyfriend?” Beverly asks.

“Yep,” I say. “That was a VERY short, very awkward conversation.”

“Did it reopen an old wound, so to speak?” Beverly asks.

“Probably more for him than it did for me,” I sigh. “I mean I remember our relationship fondly, umm, despite the way it ended…”

“I trust you’re not having any of THOSE thoughts?” Beverly asks, smiling as I shake my head. “That’s definitely a positive, at least. I never really thought that your relationship with Kurt was a good idea.”

“Yep, I remember you saying that,” I say, making the middle-aged woman laugh. “I really, really did like him, though.”

“Do you still have feelings for him?” Beverly asks.

“…I don’t know,” I sigh. “I don’t know WHAT I feel. I went out to a club last night with Kayla- just for a little bit of fun- I found myself dancing with virtually every guy in there, I mean- it’s not even like I was gay when I was ‘Steve’, but- Gah!”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Beverly says soothingly as I take several deep breaths and try to blink back the tears that have formed in the corners of my eyes. “I have told you that it’s been known for sexual orientation to shift as a result of hormone replacement therapy. It’s not common, but not unheard of.”

“Yes, I know,” I sigh. “And I was technically dating a man even before I started on oestrogen.”

“When you say ‘technically dating a man’,” Beverly asks with an air of caution in her voice, “do you mean that you were only technically dating, or that the person you were dating was only technically a man?”

“Technically dating,” I retort, before sighing yet again. “I don’t know. I convinced myself that dating a transman was what I wanted we could connect emotionally, could help each other with our transitions… I never saw Kurt as a woman, honest.”

“I believe you,” Beverly says.

“And obviously, sex was going to be completely off the table,” I say. “And that’s the thing I can’t get over, the thought of actually having sex with a man, I- I mean, I know I shouldn’t feel so negatively about it, I might even like it, god knows Jamie does, but- but I’m worried that it’s ‘Steve’ pushing back, you know?”

“And you’re also worried that showing an interest in boys is just a way of suppressing ‘Steve’?” Beverly asks.

“Well I am NOW,” I moan, before letting out a long sigh. “Sorry, sorry… You’re right, of course. As usual. I- I just never really thought of it that way, I guess…”

“Your transition has been far from straightforward,” Beverly says softly. “You’ve had layers and layers of complex issues to deal with. It’s part of the reason I withheld oestrogen for so long. I wouldn’t be surprised either if your increased interest in boys is as a response to your body reacting slower than normal to the hormone therapy. Steph, I- I do have to ask… You are keeping to schedule with your medication, right?”

“Yes, of course,” I say. “Admittedly I haven’t taken one today, but I will when I get home.”

“Good,” Dr Phillips whispers. “It probably won’t surprise you to learn that I strongly advise against entering into a relationship at this time.”

“Yeah, I had a feeling you might say that,” I giggle, making the doctor smirk.

“You mentioned that you were down on the south coast yesterday with Kayla’s parents,” Beverly continues. “I take it she’s stayed down there a few more days, that’s why you’re home alone?”

“Yeah,” I reply.

“I wouldn’t recommend staying by yourself tonight,” Beverly advises. “Go home to your parents’, make sure you have some company.”

“Okay,” I say with a nod. “I’m out at Becca’s horse thing all day tomorrow and Kayla will be back tomorrow night.”

“Good,” Beverly says. “I know there is a bit of a contradiction here, me advising you not to enter into a relationship with a boy whilst also advising you not to be alone, but I hope you can understand the meaning behind my words.”

“Yeah, I know where you’re coming from,” I say, before letting out a quiet giggle. “Funny you should specify that the relationship would be with a boy, though… Last night, I- I kinda, um, kinda shared a bed with Kayla…”

“In- in a non-sexual way, right?” Beverly asks, clearly concerned by the possibility that I might have complicated my life even further.

“Of course,” I reply. “Though she did, umm, kinda kiss me a bit… On the lips.”

“Well as you know, it’s considered more ‘acceptable’ for girls to be more affectionate with each other than it is for men,” Beverly says.

“Oh, I get that,” I say. “I’m sure Kayla just meant it as a bit of fun, it’s just…”

“Stephanie,” Dr Phillips says softly. “Did- do you feel otherwise?”

“I really, really wish I knew,” I moan. “I mean, even I know that if I went after a relationship with Kayla, it’d be a disaster, but- ugh.”

“You can’t control who you’re attracted to,” Beverly says softly.

“I just wish I wasn’t attracted to anyone,” I sigh. “My love life was so much easier when I was ‘Steve’. I was short, shrimp and had basically zero masculinity…”

“And you weren’t nationally famous,” Beverly says.

“Exactly,” I reply.

“The only advice I can give you,” Beverly says, “is to remember that you’re only 21. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you, and just because your friends are all jumping into relationships, it doesn’t mean that you have to.”

“You sound like my mum,” I retort, making both of us chuckle.

“Doesn’t make my advice any less valid,” Beverly says. “And I do know a thing or two about having a daughter in her early twenties, you know.”

“…A daughter who got engaged when she was how old again, eighteen?” I retort, making Beverly laugh out loud.

“Touché,” the counsellor replies, before seguing into a different topic of conversation, obviously realising that I have a point about her daughter.

As always, I leave the office with several techniques and strategies for coping with my stress and my anxiety, but still feeling no closer to an answer to my troubles than I was when I walked into the office. I am, however, forced to concede that Dr Phillips might have a point when she says that my interest in boys might just be a rebellion against ‘Steve’, who did spend the first nineteen years of his life having to deal with two VERY heterosexual older brothers. I wish, I truly wish that everything in my life didn’t have to revolve around the fact that I’m transgendered…

During the taxi ride home, I open up Facebook on my phone and browse to Beverly’s daughter’s profile, which of course has a picture of her and her fiancée as both the profile and the cover photos. The photo that catches my attention the most, though, is one of her most recent ones, a selfie of her and her fiancée snuggled up together on the sofa in their new flat. There’s no sexuality to the photo at all, just two people who love each other so much that they’re inseparable.

I try vainly not to let my envy get the better of me as I arrive at my parents’ home, where mum greets me as always with a long hug and a hot mug of tea. Even this brief contact, however, is enough to tell my mum that something’s wrong.

“Let me guess- just come from your counsellor’s meeting, right?” Mum asks, making me sigh and laugh as I sit down.

“…How DO you do that?” I ask, making mum chuckle with laughter.

“Mothers know,” mum says with a smug smile. “That and you’re all tensed up, that only happens when you go to your counsellor. I don’t even know why you’re paying that woman all that money if you come away feeling tenser than when you go in…”

“She DOES help,” I say. “She’s helped loads of transgendered people through their transitions.”

“If you say so,” mum sighs. “What’s got you all stressed out this time? You seemed all relaxed on Sunday… Did something happen down in Southampton?”

“…Kinda yes, kinda no,” I sigh. “I’ve… I’ve kinda been thinking a lot about my love life lately. What passes for it, anyway.”

“Ah,” mum says, fidgeting in her seat. “You know- and this will sound silly- when you and your brothers were growing up, I was always sort-of envious of your dad, that he got to have ‘the talk’ with the three of you. Always wished I had a daughter to talk to, woman-to-woman.”

“Well, I’m here now,” I shrug. “Though I am, you know, 21 and not 13… Kinda know all I need to know, heh.”

“I see,” mum says as she fidgets again, clearly uncomfortable with the topic of conversation.

“We went to a nightclub last night,” I sigh. “I got dancing, really had a lot of fun, too…”

“Well, I’m sure you and Kayla will be happy together, at least,” mum says, making my eyes go wide. “Though I’m surprised you didn’t decide to stay in Southampton with her…”

“Umm… I’m not talking about me and Kayla,” I say. “I don’t think I’ve ever talked about me and Kayla. I mean, you know, me and a boy? Like when I went out with Kurt?”

“Oh,” mum says, her cheeks going red as she realises her faux pas. “Well, I’m sure you realise there’s no need to rush into anything. Umm… Are you stopping for dinner?”

“Yeah,” I say with a grimace. “Why- why would you think that me and Kayla were- were, you know, anyway?”

“…It’s just the way you two always hang out together,” mum shrugs. “You’re practically joined at the hip, you know?”

“We’re flatmates!” I retort. “And we work together. And go to all the same social functions, and have all the same friends… Didn’t you have a best friend you hung out with when you were at uni? A flatmate, or a dorm mate, or whatever?”

“Well- yes, I had some friends I was closer to than others,” mum says. “But- I don’t know. I’m sorry I- I implied, Stephanie. What do you want for your dinner?”

“I- I don’t know,” I reply with a long, loud sigh. “I don’t mind. Whatever’s easiest to cook.” Silently, mum rises from her chair and heads through to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

A short while later, dad returns home to ‘help eat dinner’ and chat about his day at work (and, inevitably, about our tour). Naturally, nothing is said about what mum and I were talking about- as comfortable as dad may be with my transition (and to give him his due, he’s never shown anything other than unconditional support) even he would get squeamish at the thought of me being ‘with’ a boy. Possibly even more squeamish than me…

Of course, my parents have no problem with me staying overnight in my old room, and- as much as it reminds me of ‘Steve’- the familiar surroundings do help me to get a decent night’s sleep. Though this is more likely to be because I have the entire bed to myself…

I’m briefly confused when I wake up the following morning in a bed other than the one in my posh flat, but it soon passes when I realise that I’m in the room where I spent the first nineteen years of my life- though it obviously looks a lot different now compared to what it looked like when I was nineteen, not least the inside of my wardrobe!

With my parents already at work, I eat a quick breakfast before showering, applying a full face of make-up and getting dressed for the day. Even though I’m going to an equestrian event today, Becca’s assured me that the dress code will be ‘smart casual’ rather than the formal wear you see at places such as Royal Ascot or the Derby- and I will confess that this disappointed me slightly, not least because Kayla and I spent a whole afternoon before the tour shopping for an appropriate hat to wear! Nonetheless, I still make some effort today- rather than a casual top and skirt, I wear a vintage knee-length dress and a smart black cardigan, rather than black nylons, I wear tan-coloured tights, and instead of flats I wear court shoes with a low heel (though I also bring along a shopping bag with a pair of sturdy wellington boots as per Becca’s recommendation).

I spend the taxi ride to the showground trying to relax and focus on both my counsellor and my mother’s words of advice from yesterday. The advice that resonates the most with me is the reminder that I am only 21 years old. My parents didn’t meet until they were 23, Tom didn’t meet his girlfriend until he was 26, the same goes for Danny, and whilst they all had prior relationships, so have I… There’s no rush. There really, really isn’t.

…Though when I arrive at the showground, my confidence is shaken when the first thing I see is Jamie-Lee with her fiancé’s arm wrapped around her waist, Adeola- a girl even younger than me- leaning against the chest of her tall, sexy boyfriend, and Becca giggling as her own long-term boyfriend encircles her waist from behind and gives her a long, loving kiss on her cheek. As if to drive it home further, arriving just ahead of me is Becca’s older sister Emma, who has a baby in her arms and another in her belly- a reminder or the normal family life I’ll probably never get to enjoy.

“Hey Steph!” Becca giggles as I approach the group. “LOVE that dress!”

“Thanks!” I say as I do a playful twirl to show off my frock. “I know you said I didn’t have to dress up, but this IS the first horse thing I’ve ever been to, I figured I might as well…”

“Atta girl!” Jamie cheers whilst showing off her own short, smart dress. “Though we are SO going to a proper ladies’ day at some point!”

“Just don’t expect me to ride in it!” Becca laughs. “Solomon’s really not a racehorse, especially not at his age! Speaking of which, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go and see to the OTHER man in life!”

“I’ll try not to get too jealous,” Riley laughs, giving Becca a long kiss on her lips. “See you later, babe.” I bite my lip as the loving couple look deeply into each other’s eyes, before Becca heads off to the nearby stable to tend to her horse.

“We should find our seats,” Stuart says.

“Umm, before we do…” Riley says nervously. “I- I need to tell you all something, something you MUST keep secret.”

“Ooh, I think I know what THIS is!” Jamie excitedly squeaks.

“…Yeah,” Riley says, clearly irritated by Jamie’s excitement. “Guys… On- on Becca’s birthday, I- I’m going to propose to her.”

“Oh my god!” Adeola squeaks, literally bouncing up and down with excitement.

“I figure we’ve been going out for over three years,” Riley babbles. “I’ll never get another girl as amazing as her, I adore her, I- I-“

“Mate,” Stuart says, calming the tall young man, “It’s about time! I figure if anyone has to marry Becca, it might as well be you.”

“Thanks, I think,” Riley laughs as we take our seats ahead of the start of the competition.

Inevitably, as the ‘odd one out’, I find myself sat at the end of the row, and even more inevitably, I end up sat next to Jamie-Lee Burke, who is clearly VERY excited by the upcoming proposal.

“Oh my god!” Jamie whispers to me. “Can you believe that about Becca and Riley?”

“I know,” I reply, trying my hardest to feign enthusiasm and hide my anxieties. “And they’re both only 21… Same age as me…”

“They’re not the youngest couple we know to have got engaged,” Jamie reminds me. “Though knowing Becca, she is going to have THE most extravagant wedding ever. She’ll probably look at mine and Stuart’s and go ‘that, only more of it, more expensive and more- well, more better’.”

“This IS my sister you’re talking about,” Stuart- who’s sat on the opposite side of Jamie to me- interjects.

“Am I wrong, though?” Jamie asks.

“Well- no,” Stuart concedes with a sigh as Jamie turns her attention back to me.

“I doubt I’ll get picked for bridesmaid duty,” Jamie sighs. “Becca and I… We’re not exactly best friends, heh. You might, though! You’d look SO cute in a bridesmaid’s dress, especially as by then your boobs will have had a chance to grow a bit!”

“Yeah,” I laugh. “Always the bridesmaid, never the bride…”

“Aww,” Jamie sighs. “Trust me, I’ve been THERE. Especially after I split from Paul, and it seemed like all my friends were getting married, first Mary, then Viks… Got the man of my dreams eventually though, hehe!”

“Yeah,” I tiredly laugh.

“Steph…” Jamie says softly. “Are- are you, you know, ‘getting tired of being single’?”

“No,” I immediately retort, before sighing. “Ugh, maybe. I dunno. I- I’ve just been thinking a lot about it lately. I mean, I see Becca and Riley together, and you and Stuart spending all your time in each other’s pockets and I- I kinda feel like the odd one out, you know? It’s not even like I’m desperate for, you know, the S-word… But the thought of, you know, snuggling up on the sofa next to someone…”

“Aww,” Jamie coos. “And yes, I know EXACTLY what you mean. As for the S-word… You won’t know for sure unless you try it.”

“Even, you know, ‘up there’?” I ask.

“ESPECIALLY up there!” Jamie whispers with a devilish grin on her face. “But seriously, I know what you mean. You’ve probably been told ‘don’t rush into anything’, and whilst that IS good advice, ‘don’t rush’ DOESN’T mean ‘don’t even think about it’.”

“So- so are you saying that I SHOULD get a boyfriend?” I ask.

“I’m not saying you should jump in bed with the first guy you see,” Jamie says with a snort of laughter. “But it really wouldn’t hurt at all to start, you know, ‘looking’… You’re not going to get to the point where you can snuggle on a sofa with a guy if you don’t spend time building a relationship, and you won’t get to THAT point without going on a few dates, and you won’t get to THAT point… Basically, if you don’t ever even TALK to a guy, you, you know, won’t get one? I’m not sure I worded that right…”

“Nah, I think I know where you’re coming from,” I laugh. “Before I started going out with Kurt, Becca and Addie would set me up on date after date… Wouldn’t have had my relationship with Kurt- however short- without that first date.”

“Exactly,” Jamie says smugly as she gets out her phone and starts fiddling with it. “Well, I think, anyway, hehe! You coming to Stuart’s party tomorrow?”

“Of course,” I say with a smug grin of my own.

“There’ll be plenty of hot guys there, you know,” Jamie says. “It IS a boy’s party, after all. Plenty of hot, single guys too… A lot of couples hook up at parties. And before you say anything, remember what I said first- DON’T jump into bed with the first guy you see. There’ll be plenty for you to look at, and as one of the hottest, most famous single women in the country, there’ll be plenty of guys looking at you too!”

“And as it’s Stuart’s party, I’m assuming no transphobes?” I ask, catching onto Jamie’s line of reasoning.

“Exactly,” Jamie says. “Nikki’s party on Friday will be the same too, Sarah’s in her uni’s LGBT society and Nikki’s been making friends so a lot of them will be coming along. Not that any gay man would be attracted to you, though!”

“That’s… Definitely the weirdest compliment I’ve ever been paid, hehe!” I say, making Jamie giggle, though we’re soon silenced by Stuart as Becca trots out into the centre of the small arena on her big brown horse to begin her routine.

Of course, we all give Becca a standing ovation as she finishes her movements and trots back toward the enclosure at the side of the arena.

“She’s been looking forward to this all throughout the tour,” Riley proudly announces to the rest of us. “Think she missed Solomon more than me, heh.”

“You know,” Emma says, “Becca’s riding coach has said that if she’d just applied herself a little more, she could’ve competed at Olympic level.”

“Becca says Becca’s riding coach says that, anyway,” Jamie whispers in my ear, making me snort with laughter even as Emma’s son begins to cry.

“Think he’s getting a little restless,” Emma whispers as she rocks the bawling infant in an effort to calm him down. “I should probably get him home for his nap. Make sure to give Becca my love.”

“Will do,” Stuart says to his older sister as she leaves. “…Much as I love her, Becca ain’t winning this.”

“I thought she was pretty good,” I muse.

“She’s ‘good’,” Stuart clarifies. “But she’s up against people who are borderline pro. She only entered as the organisers of this event know she’s competed in dressage in the past and wanted her along as a publicity stunt.”

“She’s still a champion in my eyes,” Riley says, earning ‘aww’s from all the girls- myself included- and joking retching sounds from the boys.

Naturally, all this comment makes me do is imagine what Riley and Becca’s life will be like a few years from now, when they’re both married, with the two of them snuggled up together on their big, posh sofa, with Becca’s head gently resting on Riley’s chest…

I don’t know Riley all that well, even though we’ve been friends for two years, but I know him well enough to know that he is one of the sweetest, most sensitive men around... Just the kind of man I would love to be able to snuggle up next to...

Of course, Stuart's prediction comes true- out of the ten participants in the competition, Becca comes sixth, which isn't terrible, but is nowhere near good enough for a medal. Though this doesn't stop the press from mobbing us as we start to leave the showground, of course, meaning that Becca, Adeola and I have to pose for pictures for an extra twenty minutes whilst our friends all head back home.

"Hard luck," I mutter to Becca as we pose next to the brown-haired girl's huge, imposing horse.

"Meh," Becca shrugs. "I'm happy with sixth. I've only had one day to practise, remember? And I'm sure I'll get a 'prize' from Riley later on tonight, hehe!"

"Umm- yeah," I mumble, remembering what the tall blond boy told us before the start of the event.

"...Steph?" Becca asks. "Ahh... Don't tell me you're getting man hungry now?" Oh god, I think to myself. Of all the wrong conclusions to jump to...

"Well, uh-" I stammer.

"Umm..." Adeola grimaces, biting her lip. "It- it's kinda, umm..."

"I am a little," I say with a sigh, smiling as Adeola mouths a quiet 'thank you' at me for letting her off the hook, as it were.

"Aww," Becca coos. "Think we're going to have to get our matchmaking hats on again, Addie!"

"Seriously, you don't have to," I say, making the two other women giggle with laughter.

"Oh, it might be fun!" Adeola teases, making me roll my eyes. And after I let you off the hook, too... "Whilst we're at it, we can also get Kayla a man!"

"Preferably one shorter than her, for missing this!" Becca snorts. "Bet if it was a PROPER horse event, where you get all dressed up, she'd have come... Try to find herself a rich lord's son or something..." Ah, there's the old Becca we know and 'love', I think to myself.

"To be fair, she doesn't get to see her family all that often," I say. "She'll want to spend all the time with them that she can, you know?"

"Meh, if you say so," Becca shrugs. "Just means more publicity for the three of us today!"

"AND more time when we get home for us to find Steffieboots a hot, hunky guy!" Adeola says, giggling as I shoot an angry look at her. I daren't tell her that Jamie's already trying to set me up with a boy- Becca's always felt a need to compete with Jamie, so if she learned that Jamie was trying to set me up with a guy, I'd probably end up with a string of single guys trying to beat my door down...

Naturally, the duo tease me about my single status for the rest of the afternoon, and I actually breathe a sigh of relief when I climb into the taxi to head back home. As I walk through the door of my London flat, however, my sigh of relief turns into a groan of frustration as I realise that I've somehow managed to make my boy troubles ten times worse than they already are.

My life is complicated enough as it is. I have to juggle an expanding media profile, a full-time job and the small matter of changing the very nature of who I am- I don't have time for a partner right now, even if it is just a casual thing at the start. Dr Phillips is right- I have my whole life ahead of me. I'll sort everything else out first, THEN I can look for love. But only if I want to. If Jamie tries to set me up with someone, I'll politely tell them that I'm not interested. Jamie can't whinge at me if he doesn't meet my standards- she herself said not to jump into bed with the first guy I see, and he will be the first guy I see, so there you go.

Ninety short minutes after I returned home, however, the front door of the flat opens and I'm reminded that feelings aren't always that straightforward.

"Hey Steph!" Kayla says with a happy, almost relieved giggle as she dumps her case in the entranceway. "So good to be home..."

"Umm..." I reply. "You just came FROM your home."

"Oh- shut up," Kayla says, making me giggle as she blows a very un-ladylike raspberry at me. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I guess," I chuckle. "I guess I do think of this place as home, too... Actually stayed overnight at my parents' last night, when I woke up I was actually confused because I was in my old room."

"Aww, were you lonely without me?" Kayla teases. "Careful- we don't want Becca and Addie to gossip MORE, do we?"

"You can shut up too," I say, maybe the tiny girl crease with laughter as I return her earlier raspberry. "I dunno, maybe I associate this place as 'Steph's and my old place as 'Steve's or something."

"Huh," Kayla muses. "Guess that's enough reason to keep living here with me for the foreseeable, isn't it?"

"I wasn't planning on going anywhere," I say with a smug grin that makes Kayla giggle as she makes us both a cup of tea. "I missed you today at the dressage event. Um, uh, I mean- I mean, you know, it'd have been better to have the whole band there..." Watch your words, I think to myself as I grimace, but fortunately, Kayla doesn't seem to have noticed by faux pas.

"Meh," the tiny girl shrugs. "Horses aren't really my thing. Yes, I know, I'm the size of the average jockey, but- I dunno."

"Just because you didn't get to wear your posh new hat," I tease, making my flatmate groan and roll her eyes.

"Nor. Did. You!" Kayla retorts as I giggle. "Though to be fair, I was looking forward to getting all dressed up... Maybe we can persuade Becca to get us tickets to Royal Ascot or somewhere like that? Or ask Jonathan to get us there on a PR trip or something?"

"If you don't ask, you don't get," I say, making Kayla giggle excitedly.

"EXACTLY," Kayla laughs. "Now come on, enough talk about horses, the only thing I want to ride tonight is a Warthog. Halo me!"

"Yes, ma'am!" I laugh as I exchange an Xbox controller for the cup of tea in Kayla's hands.

We spend the rest of the night curled up on the sofa gaming away in an attempt to forget our worries, though as the night draws on, Kayla slowly edges closer and closer to me on the sofa, and the closer she gets, the more confused I get about my feelings. Of course, Kayla doesn't go as far as to actually cuddle up next to me, but in a way, that's even worse- at least if she did that, I'd actually know what she 'wanted'...

I let out a tired groan the following morning as my phone's alarm wakes me from a dreamless sleep, and is almost immediately backed up by Kayla's loud banging on my bedroom door.

"Steph!" The tiny girl yells in a voice much more powerful than someone her size should possess. "Steph! Get up!"

"I'm coming," I sigh as I throw back my covers and reach into the bottom drawer of my large chest of drawers for a pair of soft pink tights, a clingy black leotard and a pouch containing a very special pair of shoes.

I suppose it's only right that as I spent last night doing something considered boyish, I should spend this morning doing something overwhelmingly girlish, and as I stretch the skin-tight dancewear over my body (and tie my hair back into a tight, severe bun) I allow myself to get lost in the moment, just as I did so many years ago when I pulled on a pair of tights for the very first time.

Back then, if you'd told me that I'd spend one morning every week dressed in the 'clothes' I'm wearing now, not just pretending but actually getting to be a ballerina, I'd probably have dismissed you as being ridiculous. But as the taxi deposits myself and Kayla at the front door of the Krystie Fullerton School of Dance, I'm reminded that I wouldn't give this life up for anything. When I started to be 'Stephanie', I was just pretending to be a woman, but every day I wake up and pull on a leotard and a pair of tights, or a bra and a thong, or apply make-up or nail polish, it becomes less 'pretending' and more 'reality'.

Every woman who greets me as a friend as I walk into the studio reminds me that I am 'just another one of the girls', though the smug look on Jamie, Becca and Adeola's faces is a reminder that sometimes being 'one of the girls' means playing by someone else's rules...

"Why are we even here, anyway?" I mumble to Kayla as we tie our soft ballet shoes to our feet. "We have two weeks off, we COULD have skipped the lesson and they'd have been okay with it..."

"The sooner we get rehearsing for our next video, the sooner we can film it," Kayla reminds me. "And I'm REALLY looking forward to that shoot."

"Glad to hear it!" Krystie giggles, making Kayla blush as she realises she's been overheard. "And I do kinda need to get it filmed soon, before I get a bit too... 'Round' to film it, hehe!" Kayla and I giggle as Krystie pats her belly- which may be flat now, but won't stay that way for long, not with the new life growing within it.

I try to avoid the smug grins of Jamie, Becca and Adeola as I take my place at the barre and begin my warm-up steps. When surrounded by other women, it should be easy to forget about my stresses. Hell, I don't even feel 'excited' when surrounded by the women. Sixteen-year old 'Steve' probably wouldn't be able to contain his 'excitement' at the sight of a room full of young women wearing leotards and tights, but when you're wearing them yourself, and they've become an ordinary part of your week, it becomes much easier to just concentrate on the dancing.

I can't help but muse as I dance, though, that 'Steve's sole source of 'excitement' would be from the clothes themselves, rather than the women dancing within them. Maybe it's because I knew that a shrimpy 5' 6" boy wouldn't have a chance with any of the goddesses I'm dancing with now- or maybe it's because I genuinely don't fancy any of them...

After half an hour, all but a couple of the members of the class head to the corner of the room, where we swap our soft shoes for a pair of torturously stiff satin pointe shoes, and for the remaining half hour, we use them to dance on the tips of our toes, which as always, leave my feet in sheer agony- though every time I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, balancing en pointe, I'm more and more sure that this is the person I'm supposed to be.

"Ladies," Krystie says with a smug grin at the end of the lesson as everyone prepares to head to get changed. "As I'm sure you know, today is a VERY important day for one member of our family. Today, Mr. Stuart Milton turns 27 years of age... But we don't care about him now, do we?"

"Yes!" Jamie says, earning giggles from the rest of the room (myself included).

"Well- okay, YOU'RE allowed to care," Krystie says. "But the person we really care about is the girl who's celebrating her last day of teenaged life today... Isn't that right, Miss Thomas?"

"Oh, god, I know where this is going..." Nikki giggles nervously as she's all but pushed to the middle of the room. Mere seconds later, Zoe- Krystie's teaching partner- returns to the room pushing a clothes rack, on which is a ridiculously extravagant pink tutu. It's a costume I know well- I wore it back in January on the occasion of my birthday.

As Nikki changes into the tutu, and as she dances a short routine, I muse on how alike she and I really are- young women in their early twenties (or near enough in Nikki's case) whose only 'condition' is that we used to be men- are most definitely aren't anymore. After the routine, I get an extra reminder of how I don't have to conform to other people's ideas of how to live my life when Nikki receives an extra-long, loving kiss from her fiancée- her FEMALE fiancée. Feeling reinvigorated by the sight, I approach Jamie- who is, of course, showing off by trying to walk back to the changing rooms entirely en pointe.

"Hey Steph!" Jamie giggles. "Looking forward to the party tonight?"

"Yeah," I laugh nervously. "Umm, about that..."

"Umm, not 'about that'," Jamie says, lowering from pointe to look me in the eye. "Steph... If you're feeling nervous about the guy I'm setting you up with- and yes, there will be a guy there who I reckon you'll REALLY like- just, you know, decide AFTER you meet him, okay?"

"Well- okay, I guess," I say, taken aback by Jamie's sudden hostility. "But, you know, I'm not sure I want to look right now..."

"Meh, it's up to you, I guess," Jamie says with a shrug. "Just go in there with an open mind. You never know, this time next year, you might be celebrating a first anniversary..."

"Yeah, well, don't buy me a gift just yet," I snort as Jamie heads to get changed, leaving just me, Krystie and the rest of the band in the dance studio.

"Thanks for coming in on your day off for a practice session, girls," Krystie says as we retake our places at the barre.

"Our pleasure," Adeola says. "Not like 'the end of February' is a great holiday season anyway..."

"And we had to be here for stupid's birthday tonight," Becca snorts, earning 'ooh's from the rest of the girls.

"Charming way to talk about your brother!" I tease.

"And how, exactly, do you refer to Danny?" Becca retorts.

"That's different," I say with a smug grin. "Danny actually IS stupid! Stuart's, you know, clever..."

"Oh, don't tell me you've still got a crush on him," Becca retorts, making my eyes go wide with shock as Kayla and Krystie both gasp at me.

"Oh- FUCK you, Becca!" I shriek. "Seriously! Have you not heard of 'confidence'?"

"...Sorry," Becca meekly mumbles. "I- I- shit. Sorry, Steph, I- I thought everyone knew by now..."

"Umm, no?" I say. "You know the boy trouble I have AND the Jamie trouble I've had, why would I tell anyone THAT?"

"Se-seriously, though?" Kayla asks. "Even after he's, you know, 'done'?"

"...It was right at the start of when I became 'Stephanie'," I sigh. "Before I started taking hormones... I was confused, I didn't know WHAT I wanted."

"But- but it explains, you know, you and Kurt?" Kayla asks. "I mean, are transmen-"

"I said I don't want to talk about it, okay?" I hiss, sighing as I realise I've startled my friend. "I- I'm sorry, Kayla. I didn't mean to snap... Can we just get down to dancing, please?"

"Best suggestion I've heard all day," Krystie says as she leads the four of us through the complicated choreography of our next music video.

However, the dance lesson soon ends, and as I climb into the taxi to head home, I try not to grimace at the inquisitive look on my flatmate's face.

"...Yes, I did fancy him," I sigh, trying not to frown as Kayla lets out a small gasp. "'Did'. Past tense. It was just a silly little crush."

"Well, I suppose every girl has those," Kayla sighs. "It's just- ugh, I dunno. I figured..."

"You figured... What?" I ask.

"It's in the past, it doesn't matter," Kayla says.

"No, it DOES matter," I say.

"I figured..." Kayla says, before sighing again. "Promise you won't get TOO offended by this? You are kinda forcing it out of me, you know..."

"Talk!" I say frustratedly.

"I thought," Kayla says, "that as you were, you know, 'chemically male', that you, you know, liked women..."

"Even though you know I really fancied Kurt, and that was before I was transitioning?" I retort.

"Well- yeah," Kayla sighs. "But you'd been living as Stephanie for months by then, you said you fancied Stuart right at the start of your life as Steph... Kinda figured that, you know, 'Steve' was heterosexual..."

"'Steve' wasn't really anything, sexuality-wise," I say. "Kinda wish that 'Stephanie' wasn't, it'd make things a lot simpler..."

"Ugh, amen to that," Kayla snorts as we head back to our posh flat, where we spend the afternoon gaming and deliberately NOT talking about boys, before heading to our respective bedrooms to get changed.

I'm in two minds about my outfit for tonight- on the one hand, I don't want to give the wrong impression that I'm overly 'available', but on the other hand, I want to look chic and sexy to 'keep up appearances' for any press that might show up- not to mention the dozens of Instagram accounts that'll be updated tonight.

In the end, I settle for a clingy, long-sleeved grey minidress with shiny black tights and platform stilettos. The outfit shows off a lot of leg, sure, but even though tonight will be a boy's party, there'll still be more leg on show than at a millipede convention. As I grab my handbag and get ready to leave, however, I remember a brand-new pair of footwear I bought before the tour and haven't had the opportunity to wear yet. Again, I'm faced with a dilemma- the footwear will cover my legs, sure, and it'll keep them warm, but it'll also draw a LOT of attention toward them...

"I'm ready," I yell as I leave my room to see that Kayla is already ready and sat on the sofa, waiting for me.

"At last," Kayla says. "Taxi's been here- woah." I giggle as I do a twirl for Kayla, who simply stands there slack-jawed.

Instead of a pair of platform stilettos- like the ones Kayla's wearing- on my feet are a pair of high-heeled boots that extend all the way up my shins, over my knees and cover the bottom four inches of my thighs, high enough to leave only a tiny gap of nylon-covered thigh visible between the hem of my dress and the cuffs of my boots.

"You like?" I ask.

"I NEED," Kayla says. "Seriously, now I know why Addie calls you 'Steffieboots', hehe! And there I was, thinking that you were trying to DIScourage men, hehe!"

"I figured men will be staring at my legs either way," I sigh. "So I can cover them with leather or nylon. Reckon I made the right choice?"

"Umm, if you want stares, then yes," Kayla says. "Unless everyone else there is wearing super-sexy fuck-me-boots, of course."

"...Right," I grimace as we head down to the taxi, where the driver stares long and hard at my boots as we get in. This could be a long night...

A short while later, we arrive at Charlotte's vast house, where the birthday party is already in full swing. Naturally, the second I step through the front door, I'm greeted by my other two bandmates, both of whom have wide grins on their faces.

"Stef-fie-boots!" Adeola squeaks half-drunkenly. "Oh my god! You are SO going to get a man tonight!"

"Only if I want one!" I retort, which only serves to make Becca and Adeola laugh even louder.

"Careful, you don't want Jamie getting jealous!" Becca says, giggling as I shoot her a very dirty look. "Oh relax, I'm not going to tell her. Even if you would make a much better sister-in-law than her!"

"Speak of the devil," Adeola laughs as Jamie approaches our group, gasping with delight as she sees my footwear.

"Wow," Jamie coos at my boots. "I've got two pairs JUST like those. Glad to see you've come prepared, Steph!"

"Ugh, honestly, what is it with men and boots?" I ask as Jamie leads the four of us into the main room, where we drop off our Christmas presents and head straight to the bar."

"You mean you don't know?" Jamie asks, giggling as I shake my head. "Good! Now grab your drink, I have someone I want you to meet."

"Umm... We're not even going to say hi to the birthday boy first?" I protest.

"He's not going anywhere," Jamie says smugly. "Now this, this is Liam," Jamie continues as she practically shoves me toward a tall young man with light brown hair and a nervous expression on his face. "I know you two will hit it off!" I grimace at Jamie- not to mention the excited giggles of my bandmates- before nervously grinning at the young man I've found myself face to face with.

"Umm... Hi," I say with a nervous giggle.

"Hi," the young man says in a soft London accent. "I, uh, I'm Liam."

"Stephanie," I say.

"Yeah, I, uh, kinda know," Liam says with a nervous laugh. "I, uh, I'm a big fan..."

“Thanks!” I giggle. “Umm… What- what do you do?”

“Oh, um, I’m an actor!” Liam says, piquing my interest. Not that I want to deliberately stereotype people, but if he’s an actor, then the chances of him being the kind of sensitive, ‘snuggle on the sofa’ kind of guy might be better than I expected…

“An actor?” I ask. “Been in anything I might have seen?”

“Uhh… Not unless you go to many local theatres,” Liam says, nervously scratching his head. “Or just a bit of extra work. Still waiting for my ‘big break’, heh.”

“Are you signed to Heavenly Talent?” I ask.

“Heh, I wish!” Liam laughs. “Sent off my portfolio twice, thought because I’ve worked with Stuart on productions before- on musicals- that it might get me a foot in the door… No joy.”

“Ah, so you’re wanting to ride my coattails to fame, then?” I ask.

“Oh- no, not at all,” Liam replies. “Stuart’s coattails, yes, but you- I- I just mean, I- you know, I kinda- kinda want to, you know, get to know you better…” My heart suddenly starts beating faster as Liam gently takes my hand in his, caressing my fingers and sending tiny tingles of electricity up my arm.

“Do- do you, umm,” I stammer. “Want to, you know, find somewhere more private?” Liam giggles nervously at my suggestion as we stealthily head toward the side entrance to the room.

Less than a minute later, the two of us find ourselves in Charlotte’s cramped cloakroom, where our lips slowly move closer together, until my entire body shivers with excitement at the first touch of our mouths. As the kiss intensifies, my legs feel like they’re about to turn to jelly, and soon, the only thing holding me up is Liam’s strong hold on my narrow waist.

Slowly, our lips part, and I shiver yet again as I feel the tip of Liam’s tongue brush against mine. Never in my life have I felt such a powerful feeling of lust, of desire… Sure, I kissed Kurt loads when we were going out, but this is different. This is hot, passionate, and as Kurt gently lowers his hand over my hip, past my bottom and to the thin strip of nylon between my dress and my boots, I-

‘What ARE you doing?’ A familiar, unwelcome voice in the back of my head asks, snapping me out of my lustful trance. Immediately, I break away from the embrace, leaving Liam stood in a state of utter confusion.

“St-Stephanie?” Liam asks.

“I- I’m sorry,” I mumble. “It- uh, it’s not you, um, it’s me…”

“Yeah… That just means it IS me, right?” Liam sighs.

“Trust me, in this case, it doesn’t,” I say with a snort of laughter. “I dunno how much you know about me but I’ve um, I’ve not been, you know, ‘well’ recently… Think it’s a bit too soon for anything like this.”

“…I see,” Liam mumbles. “I- I’m sorry…”

“Oh- trust me, YOU have nothing to apologise for,” I laugh. “The mere fact that you ARE apologising says a lot, and if I felt I was ready… Liam, you’re sweet, funny and sensitive.”

“…And hot?” Liam asks, making me giggle.

“BOILING hot,” I say, eliciting a chuckle from Liam. “If I felt I was ready you would TOTALLY be the kind of guy I’d want for a boyfriend but I- I’m not quite there. Not yet.”

“I’m happy to wait,” Liam shrugs.

“You’d be waiting a long time,” I sigh, before giving Liam another gentle, friendly kiss. “I’m sorry, Liam.”

“I’ll add you on Facebook,” Liam says as he fiddles with his phone. “If you change your mind.”

“Thanks,” I whisper as Liam leaves me alone in the cloakroom with the voice I’d hoped never to hear again.

‘Why are you even THINKING about getting together with another guy?’ ‘Steve’ asks.

“These thoughts are coming from me,” I whisper calmly, remembering the exercises I learned from my stay in residential psychiatric care last year. “I’m asking myself why I’m thinking about Liam being my boyfriend. ‘Stephanie’ is asking ‘Stephanie’ these questions.”

‘And the answer is?’ ‘Steve’ asks, and a tear forms in the corner of my eye as no answer presents itself. ‘That’s what I thought.’

“If I find him attractive, and he likes me, where’s the problem?” I ask.

‘The problem is that this isn’t you,’ ‘Steve’ replies. ‘None of this is. The last few weeks you’ve been going around in a daze, like you didn’t know who you were yourself. You’ve lost sight of who you were, and you’re allowing Jamie and people like her to manipulate you into being who they want you to be. Do YOU want a boyfriend? Really?’

“I don’t know,” I whisper. “All I know is that I am Stephanie Abbott. I AM a woman. I’m not pretending. This is who I am. Stephanie, not ‘Steve’. YOU are NOT welcome in my life.” I take several deep breaths to clear my mind, and once I’ve calmed down, I smile as I realise that ‘Steve’ is gone, and all that’s left is ‘Stephanie’- or rather, ‘me’.

For the sake of my mental health, my counsellors have warned me not to entertain any conversations with ‘Steve’, but as I return to the party- deliberately avoiding Jamie or any of my bandmates- I wonder whether or not ‘Steve’- sorry, whether or not I had a point. As exciting as the clinch with Liam was, it was never going to lead to anything sexual, and even if Liam would be happy with just snogging for now (as unfair as it’d be to him), the fact is that that’s the door through which ‘Steve’ returned- and it’s a door I can’t afford to open ever again. But is fair to me to remain single for the rest of my life?

“Hey!” Jamie says with a sly grin as I approach her. “I noticed you slip off with Mr. Coleman there… Tell me to butt out if it’s none of my business, but-“

“I- don’t think it’ll work out,” I grimace, though much to my relief, Jamie’s facial expression is one of sympathy.

“Ah, that’s a pity,” the blonde woman sighs. “Really is as Liam’s one of the most sensitive, least- for want of a better word- ‘aggressive’ people I know.”

“I just don’t think I’M ready, you know?” I ask.

“Well, it’s your life,” Jamie shrugs. “Plenty of other guys out there, and there’ll be plenty of other nights to give those AMAZING boots some publicity, hehe!”

“Yeah,” I laugh, stifling a yawn. “I- um, I think I’m a little tired, I- I think I’m going to head home. Give my love to Stuart.”

“Of course,” Jamie whispers. “However much is appropriate for a friend and colleague, anyway…”

“Oh- shit,” I grimace, my insides churning. “Jamie, I swear, I am SO sorry, I-“

“It’s okay,” Jamie says reassuringly. “He’s a sexy guy, of course other girls will look at him. But I trust you haven’t, well, ‘touched’, right?”

“Of course,” I whisper.

“That’s good enough for me,” Jamie says. “And I KNOW you’ll find the man of your dreams soon. Then you can stop thinking about the man of MY dreams.” I giggle as Jamie gives me a sly wink, before leading me out to the entrance hall of the big house. A few minutes later, my taxi arrives, and I breathe a sigh of relief as I climb into the back seat- though there’s still a part of me that wishes I was still in the cloakroom and Liam’s arms were still wrapped around my waist, and his lips were still wrapped around my tongue…

Immediately as I arrive home, I unzip my boots and drop them on the floor of my bedroom, sighing as I stare at my red-coloured toenails wiggling within my shiny tights. It’s a sight that’s become so normal to me that I barely even think about it anymore, but just two years ago, it would have sent ‘Steve’s into emotional turmoil… Just as dressing in masculine clothing used to send me into emotional turmoil.

I take a deep breath as I open the bottom drawer of my dresser and stare longingly at its contents. Nine times out of ten, when I get up in the morning, I’ll pull on a skirt or a dress. Rarely, I’ll pull on a pair of shorts, but I can count the number of times I’ve worn a pair of trousers in the last year on both hands… And yet, I still own several pairs of trousers, and not just skinny, feminine trousers and Capri pants, but comfortable, baggy jeans as well. The label makes it clear that the jeans are women’s, but in reality, any man could wear them and not get a second look from the average person on the street- and the same goes for the sweaters and hoodies hidden beneath the jeans in my bottom drawer, not to mention the socks, briefs and t-shirts.

I sigh as I remove my dress, before sliding my clingy tights off of my soft, smooth legs. My underwear follows next, leaving me stood stark naked in the cold air of my bedroom. Looking at myself in the mirror, I look no different than any other naked man- provided that man regularly wears make-up, nail polish and has no hair below their eyelashes. If it wasn't for the 'growth' between my legs, though, anyone could easily mistake me for a flat chested woman. I shiver with nerves as I step into a pair of androgynous briefs, before pulling on a pair of soft grey socks, a pair of loose jeans and a comfortable grey hoodie. Once I’m dressed, I sit down at my dressing table and methodically remove every trace of make-up on my face, before standing up and again staring at my reflection in the mirror… And all I can see is ‘Stephanie’, a young woman wearing loose, androgynous clothing, with a relatively masculine-looking face and body, but a woman nonetheless. I wonder, though- what would Liam see if he looked at me right now?

“Steph?” A familiar female voice calls as she enters the flat. “Steph? You here?”

“In my room,” I say absent-mindedly, before grimacing as my bedroom door opens and Kayla walks in uninvited, her jaw dropping as she sees how I’m dressed.

“…You read my mind!” Kayla laughs, before disappearing into her own bedroom opposite mine. I read Kayla’s mind? How, exactly? Is she getting undressed? Did she see ‘Steve’ in these clothes, and does she want to be with him?

My questions are answered mere minutes when Kayla emerges from her bedroom wearing a loose pair of jogging bottoms, a warm-looking pink hoodie and absolutely zero make-up on her teardrop-shaped face.

“So much better,” Kayla laughs, doing a quick twirl as I giggle and applaud approvingly. “I mean yes, I like getting dressed up and going to parties, but sometimes- you know? You just want to slob out and relax? Especially after you’ve been on tour for the last two weeks…”

“Is that why you’re back home early from the party?” I ask as we dramatically slump down together onto the sofa.

“Nah, actually I saw you leave and I was a bit worried,” Kayla answers, making my cheeks flush.

“…Sorry,” I mumble.

“S’okay,” Kayla says as she switches on the TV. “To be honest I really did want to come home anyway, you just gave me an excuse, heh!”

“My pleasure,” I say with a snort of laughter.

“So…” Kayla says with a grimace. “Guessing it didn’t go well with Liam, then?”

“It- ugh, you could say that,” I sigh. “Doubt he’d be as into me if he saw me now, heh.”

“Well that’d be HIS problem,” Kayla giggles. “Men shouldn’t expect us girls to be all gussied up all of the time. If they don’t want us to be slobs, then they don’t get to touch us when we’re goddesses!”

“Yeah,” I laugh. “It’s just- ugh, this is gonna sound silly, especially after this last week…”

“You know I won’t let it go until you say it, so SAY IT,” Kayla demands.

“It’s just- you know?” I sigh. “Someone sees me dressed like this and their first thought would be ‘Steve’ instead of ‘Stephanie’.”

“Is- is that why you’re dressed down so much?” Kayla asks. “Do- am I talking to ‘Steve’ right now?”

“No,” I say confidently. “Only Stephanie. I thought- I thought that if I could dress like this and only see ‘Stephanie, when I only saw ‘Steve’ before, that it’d- ugh. I don’t know WHAT I was hoping to achieve.”

“Well, sounds like you achieved it anyway, right?” Kayla asks, giggling as I nod. “GOOD.”

“How about you?” I ask my tiny blonde friend. “Any cute guys catch your eye at the party?”

“Oh there was plenty of eye candy,” Kayla says.

“…But let me guess- no one you’d want to snuggle up with on the sofa?” I ask.

“Exactly!” Kayla says, before giggling and cuddling her tiny body close to mine as we spend the rest of the night watching television.

Right now, single life is probably- no, DEFINITELY the best option for me. Just because all my friends are hooking up with boys, or getting engaged, or even married, it doesn’t mean I have to rush into anything myself. It’s not even like I want the physical side of things, the only reason I’d want a boyfriend is to, as Kayla says, have someone to cuddle up next to on the sofa on cold winter nights… Much like I’m doing with Kayla right now, which only serves to confuse me further. Am I just Kayla’s surrogate sister, or just her BFF, or does she want more from me? Do I want more from her?

What do I even want, anyway?

“So, tell us about your new app!” Colin- the show’s host- asks the four of us as we sit on the studio’s sofa in our expensive clothes.

“Well,” Becca replies, “it’s basically a ‘hub’ for all things Out of Heaven-related! On it you can find links to all our videos, our personal blogs and Instagram pages.”

“There are also features that are exclusive to the app,” Kayla explains. “Special behind-the-scenes footage from our tours and our recording sessions, exclusive competitions you can enter, games…”

“It really is THE resource for all Out of Heaven fans,” I say, repeating the same speech I’ve said countless times over the last few days. “It’s made by the same team who made the official app for The Angels, so you know it’s by a quality developer!”

“And, most importantly of all, it’s free!” Adeola concludes with a giggle as footage from the app plays on the screen behind us.

“I’ve already had a play around with the app, and it’s really, really good!” Emily- the show’s co-host- says as she produces her mobile phone to show the app being used ‘live’. “And it’s available for download now?”

“Yep!” Becca beams. “Just search for ‘Out of Heaven’ on the app store or the Google Play store and it should be the first result!”

“And I understand congratulations are in order for three of you!” Colin says, making Becca, Adeola and myself blush- though my cheeks grow much redder than those of my friends. “Three of you have become aunts in the last few months, I understand?”

“Yes,” Adeola sighs with a giggle. “My brother- my adopted brother- and his wife had a little girl in March that they’ve named ‘Destiny’. There are photos of her on the Angels app, she is SO cute!”

“My sister gave birth last month, a boy named Lee, after his dad,” Becca explains.

“And of course, your brother and his new wife are blogging about their experiences with the adoption system,” Colin says in his thick Northern Irish accent.

“Yeah,” Becca sighs happily. “Stuart will be SUCH a great dad.” I’m forced to smirk as Becca deliberately avoids mentioning the woman Stuart married eight days ago- the same woman with whom I’ve had more than my fair share of problems.

“And you’ve just become an aunt too, haven’t you, Stephanie?” Emily asks, making me force out a giggle in response.

“Yep!” I say. “My brother’s partner’s just had a little girl a few days ago… Between our three nephews and nieces, and Mary Carter’s new daughter, and with Krystie Fullerton due in a few months, we’re already joking that they’re going to be ‘The Angels: The Next Generation’, hehe!”

“You must be eager to get back home to say hi to your new niece!” Emily says, making me force out another much less sincere-sounding giggle.

“Yeah…” I reply. And in truth, I am eager to meet my new niece… It’s just having to see her father at the same time that’s making me anxious.

Thankfully, there’s no more talk of family during the rest of the interview, which concludes with the four of us singing one of the singles from our second album. One the cameras stop rolling, the four of us breathe a sigh of relief as the hosts come over for an informal chat before their next guests take our place.

“So, how long have you been on the road?” Emily asks.

“Since Monday,” Becca says with a tired chuckle. “We sang at my brother’s wedding, had a day off, then got straight on the promotional tour, heh.”

“I saw the photos from the wedding,” Emily gushes. “Jamie-Lee looked SO beautiful, we’ve been trying to get her on the show for weeks now, but there’s always been some kind of schedule problem.”

“We’ve got one of the other Angels coming up next week though, one of the new ones,” Colin interjects. “You got any more interviews to do?”

“Just one tomorrow morning, then that’s us for the whole week!” Kayla says with an excited giggle. “SO looking forward to the time off.”

“Going to see your parents in Southampton?” Emily asks.

“At some point next week, yeah,” Kayla sighs.

“How about you, Steph?” Colin asks. “Got any plans, going anywhere nice?"

“Hmm?” I ask, having been lost in thought. “Oh, umm, no, not really… It’s my brother’s birthday on Thursday- he’s the one who’s just become a father. We, umm, we don’t really get along all THAT well, though…”

“Ah, sorry to hear that,” Colin says with a grimace. “Is it- is it because of, well, you know…?”

“Because I’m trans?” I ask. “No need to be so awkward about it, that IS what I am, the transgendered singer…”

“No you’re not!” Becca insists sharply. “Not JUST that, anyway!”

“Yeah,” Adeola giggles. “You’re, like, singer first, girl second, I dunno, sister third… ‘Transgendered’ is WAY down the list, as least as far as we go!”

“Aww,” Emily coos as my friends rally around to try to cheer me up. “You really are as close as you come across on screen, aren’t you?”

“We’ve grown a LOT closer over the last year,” Becca says.

“Since the fifth girl left the band?” Emily asks in a soft, cautious voice.

“Ironically? Yeah,” Kayla says. “We’re much stronger as four than we were as five.”

“Hence the name of the album,” Colin chuckles. “Well, it’s been great to see yous all again, hopefully we’ll see you again soon!”

“Definitely,” the four of us all say as we bid farewell to the two hosts with gentle hugs, before heading back to the green room where our excited PA is waiting for us.

“Super awesome as always!” Nikki giggles as she pours glasses of complementary wine for the four of us. “Seriously, I’ve already had a text from Jonathan, he is SO happy with the work you’ve all been doing!”

“He’d better be,” Adeola snorts. “Sending us all over the country like this…”

“We’re getting paid well enough for it,” I shrug.

“Cheers to THAT!” Becca giggles as the four of us clink our glasses together. “Ahh... Seven down, one to go, hehe! Well, until August, anyway!”

“Ah, sometimes I miss the days when we spent all day in the studio, recording…” Adeola playfully sighs.

“You mean you’d prefer that to being whisked all over the country and being treated like princesses?” Nikki teases, making the tall, dark-skinned girl giggle.

“…Okay, maybe this IS better, hehe!” Adeola squeaks excitedly.

“Speaking of which,” Nikki says, “I’ve spoken to your hotel, your rooms are ready for you to check in whenever you’re ready. Unless you’d rather go out on the lash tonight?”

“On a Sunday evening when we’re on TV tomorrow at 6am?” Becca retorts. “…Tempting. But I think we’d probably better get an early night, hehe!”

“Hear hear!” Kayla cheers as we finish our champagne, before climbing into the plush people carrier Nikki’s rented for us to use while in Manchester.

A short while later, the four of us are dropped off outside our posh hotel, and after checking in, we head straight to our large, fancy rooms. Naturally, Becca is sharing a twin room with Adeola, whilst Kayla and I have our own twin room to ourselves. After kicking off my expensive, fashionable flats, I lay down on my bed, letting out a long sigh as Kayla watches on with a smirk on her face.

“Shall I leave you two alone?” The tiny blonde girl asks, giggling as I frown in confusion. “You and the bed, I mean!”

“Oh- whatever,” I retort, making Kayla giggle even louder as I blow a raspberry at her.

“I’m going to get changed,” Kayla announces. “You two have fun, hehe!” I smile as my best friend heads into another part of the suite to change, but as soon as she’s gone, I let out a long, tired sigh before staring down at my slender body.

Of course, the first thing I notice about my body is that it’s covered in a clingy, girly t-shirt and a tight miniskirt with a floral pattern stitched into it. The second thing I notice is the dark red polish on my toenails and fingernails. The third thing? The total lack of hair on my arms or my legs. But the fourth thing I notice, probably the most significant thing about my body, are the two soft mounds on my chest. Most of the mounds are, of course, down to the padding sewn into my bra, but a small part of it is all flesh and blood- and that part is steadily growing.

They’ve been steadily growing, in fact, for the past seven months, ever since I started taking oestrogen. However, they are far from the biggest change to have happened to me in that time. I’m not even talking about physical changes, though there have been plenty more of those, such as my waistline narrowing, my hips and backside widening, my skin growing softer and smoother and the initially alarming change of my genitals getting noticeably smaller. There are some days when I wake up and I feel like my new body is completely alien… But there are other days when I wake up with a confidence I never, ever felt as ‘Steve’, confidence that lets me take on the world- and usually win, such as in the interview the girls and I just did.

However, every time my confidence grows too high, there’s always an unwanted ‘presence’ ready to bring me crashing back down to Earth- the unwelcome voice of ‘Steve’ in my head. I’d hoped that the more the oestrogen changed my body- and more importantly, my brain- the less I’d hear ‘him’ in my mind, but if anything, the opposite has been true. I’ve discussed this all with Doctor Phillips, of course- my occasional discomfort with my new body, my battles with ‘Steve’ and my stress at the fact that every stage of my transition is being done under the scrutiny of the media- and whilst she has helped, her conclusions that I might never be 100% comfortable in either gender were the last thing I wanted to hear. It’s almost as though I’ll always be ‘transgendered’ rather than entirely male or entirely female- and that’s certainly the way I feel right now.

Fortunately, I can always rely on my friends and family for support. Well… Some of them, anyway. Even though she hasn’t said so out loud, I can tell that Jamie-Lee wasn’t too happy with my rejection of her supposed ‘perfect guy for me’, meaning we’ve resumed our previous ‘not hostile but not friends either’ type of relationship. Becca and Adeola have taken the hint, though, and stopped setting me up on any dates. And Kayla… Sometimes I have no idea what the hell Kayla’s thinking, despite our closeness. She hasn’t been on a single date either since my aborted encounter with Liam all those months ago, but at the same time, she hasn’t dropped any ‘hints’ in my direction either. I’m not exactly the most perceptive person in the world, admittedly, but every time Kayla and I relax together on the couch, I keep wondering whether she wants us to snuggle up together, like our PA and her fiancée do every evening, or whether she sees us as being like Jamie-Lee and Charlotte, or our friends Jacinta and Ophelia- two women who clearly love each other a lot, but as pseudo-sisters- Kayla, of course, not having any biological siblings of her own, much like the aforementioned Jamie-Lee and Charlotte.

That is, however, something that can’t be said of me. Whether I like it or not, I have two older brothers, and their reactions to be continued transformation have been… Complicated, to say the least. Danny, for his part, has taken everything in his stride, showing me unconditional love and acceptance. The fact that he now lives full-time with his girlfriend Rachel has probably helped keep a smile on his face, but the same can’t be said of my other brother. When I’d started taking oestrogen, I’d hoped that it would’ve proved to him that this change was permanent, that it was a genuine thing and wasn’t going to be reversed, and that his only choice was to accept it. However, in the past few months, he’s grown more distant than ever. Whether this is due to my transition or his becoming a father, I couldn’t say, but it remains a source of frustration for me that he’s the only person in my life who has yet to accept that ‘Stephanie’ is here to stay.

The only person apart from ‘Steve’, anyway…

At least I still have my work to distract me from the hassle of my personal life- even though my personal life wouldn’t have any of this hassle if it wasn’t for my current job, heh. Rather than release a third album in as many years, the company have decided instead to focus on increasing our public profile with a series of publicity tours- such as the one we’re on now, to promote our app- by producing Out of Heaven branded merchandise, such as our app, or other stuff like phone cases, tote bags, wristbands- all the stuff that a teenaged fan of Britain’s best girl band would want to spend their money on.

The final ‘attack’ that Joshua, Jonathan and co have planned is a couple of mini-tours later in the year, one at the start of August, the other around the end of October. All the band are excited about the tour, not least Kayla, as the August tour will include a gig at the football ground used by Southampton F.C.- Kayla’s home town team. And I will admit, a part of me is excited at the prospect of the tour, not least because the Southampton concert will see us wearing costumes consisting of short-sleeved leotards covered in red and white stripes (the colours of Southampton F.C.) and skin-tight hot pants. Then the following day, in London, we’ll be wearing skimpy corsets, boob tubes and miniskirts on stage. And then I’ll go home and change into a loose summer dress, or a tight miniskirt, or a light, airy maxi skirt, and I’ll remind myself- as I’m doing now- that for the past two years, I’ve not just had the ability to indulge my fantasy of being a girl, but I’ve received widespread praise for it and been paid EXTREMELY well too. There are literally thousands of girl throughout the country, and no doubt thousands of boys as well, who would give their right arms to live the life that I’ve lived for the last two years. Sometimes I even wonder whether or not the same is true for ‘Steve’.

But the fact of the matter is simple: I DO live this enviable life. Tomorrow I’ll be interviewed on live TV, before heading to a studio for publicity photographs for our app. Sometimes I feel guilty about feeling stressed out about all the difficult things in my life, but my job IS a lot of hard work, with a lot of travelling… Sometimes I just want to kick back and relax with a videogame marathon, regardless of whether I’m wearing a short skirt and a tight op or a slouchy pair of slacks, a hoodie and a totally make-up free face- which is exactly what my best friend is wearing when she comes back into the room after a few minutes.

“Swit-swoo!” I tease as Kayla does a playful twirl for me.

“Oh- shut up!” Kayla laughs, before playing collapsing back onto her bed and switching on the television. “You not bothering to get changed, then?”

“Nah, too hot for sweats,” I say as I sit up cross-legged on my bed. “Besides, not like I can wear this again tomorrow, right?”

“Diva,” Kayla teases, making me giggle as she sticks her tongue out at me. “Not that that’s a bad thing, of course!”

“Yeah,” I laugh. “I am REALLY looking forward to getting back home, though.”

“Ugh, tell me about it,” Kayla spits. “I mean, there’s only so many times you can be on TV, you know? Before it gets old?”

“Diva,” I tease, giggling again as Kayla retorts by blowing a raspberry at me.

“So,” Kayla says with a giggle as she rolls over on her bed to face me. “When were you going to tell me that you’d become an auntie? Kept THAT quiet…”

“You knew my brother’s partner was pregnant,” I retort.

“Yes, I just didn’t know she was due in May!” Kayla says.

“No, but you know what normally happens at the end of a pregnancy,” I say, snorting with laughter as Kayla blows another raspberry at me.

“Sarky cow,” Kayla chuckles. “So then, a niece, right? Reckon she’ll be friends with Becca’s and Adeola’s nieces? Or Mary Carter’s daughter? Oh my god- imagine if they become the next Out of Heaven! Or the next Angels!” yeah, like I haven’t heard THAT a million times already, I think to myself.

“Doubt Tom would approve of that,” I snort. “Doubt he’d approve of ANYTHING, heh. He certainly doesn’t approve of me…”

“Aww- don’t be like that,” Kayla sighs. “…What’s the baby called? Do you know her name yet?”

“Think they were naming her Claire,” I say. “After Amanda’s mother. Amanda’s Tom’s partner-“

“Yeah, I’ve met her before, remember?” Kayla reminds me. “Wish I had a brother or a sister… I’ll never be an auntie.”

“Aww, don’t say that!” I sigh. “Besides, if you marry a guy who has a brother or a sister, you’ll be an aunt to their children, right? The coolest aunt any kid could hope to have!”

“Hehe!” Kayla giggles. “Yeah… Kinda need to find myself a guy first, though…”

“I hear that,” I sigh. “Even though we are rich, famous, sexy young women who could have any guy we wanted…”

“A rich, famous sexy young woman who looks like she’s thirteen,” Kayla snorts.

“Yeah,” I retort, “because THAT’s the most off-putting thing about either of us, right?”

“Oh- let’s not do the whole ‘self-pity’ thing, okay?” Kayla asks. “We’ve got a long day tomorrow, THEN we can rest and be as self-pitying as we want. Okay?”

“Sure,” I say, resting back onto my elbows as we while away the rest of the evening watching television.

Eventually, the time comes for the two of us to climb into our beds, though as I lay in the darkness, listening to Kayla’s soft snoring, I find myself unable to escape my thoughts… Or rather, the thoughts of ‘Steve’. I try my hardest to distract myself, focussing on the sound of Kayla’s breath, on the sound of traffic passing by outside, even the sound of my own heartbeat, but no matter what I do, the tiny, unwanted voice at the back of my head will not be silenced.

‘You know Tom won’t want you to be an aunt to his niece,’ ‘Steve’ says.

‘Shut up…’ I think to myself, clenching my hands into fists and mentally singing one of our songs in an attempt to silence my ‘alter ego’.

‘No matter what,’ ‘Steve’ says, ‘there’ll always be someone who won’t accept you, and you’ll never be fully comfortable with who you are. And that girl will grow up not knowing whether she has an aunt or an uncle.’

“These thoughts are my own,” I whisper to myself, as quietly as possible so as not to wake Kayla. "I'm talking to myself about my niece. 'Stephanie' is telling 'Stephanie' this." Eventually, ‘Steve’ is silenced once again, and I try to keep my mind as clear as possible so as to drift off to sleep faster- though ‘his’ question resonates in my mind, especially as it’s not just Tom that ‘he’s talking about. For every follower I have on Instagram or Twitter, or every supportive comment on one of our YouTube videos, or even every TV interview we do, there’ll always be someone- like Tom- lined up to tell me that I’ll never be a real woman, that I’m an affront to their values, that all I’m doing is humiliating myself every time I put on make-up, or pull on a skirt… And there’ll always be a tiny part of me that believes it.

I let out a loud groan when my alarm clock wakes me at a ridiculously early hour, though my groan quickly turns into a giggle when I hear an equally annoyed groan come from the bed next to me.

“Sod off,” Kayla moans through her sheets, having clearly heard my alarm and my giggle.

“Ugh, would love to,” I sigh as I swing my tired, hairless legs out of bed. But we’ve got work to do. “Mind if I take the shower first?”

“Mind? I insist you do,” Kayla grumbles, rolling back over as I pad toward the suite’s small shower room, where I cleanse my body under the cascading hot water, before blow drying my long brown hair, dousing myself with my favourite perfume and applying my make-up. As I apply my mascara, eyeliner, eye shadow and lipstick, though, I take a long look at my reflection. Even without make-up, it’s not a boy’s face looking back at me, not ‘Steve’s face- and it hasn’t been for a while. I look at my face in the mirror, and I only see Stephanie Abbott the superstar. That’s all that virtually everyone else sees as well. Why, then, does ‘he’ keep cropping up in my brain, if he’s nowhere to be found on my face…?

After pulling on my usual ‘supporting’ underwear, I dress for the day in a cute black skater skirt and an expensive designer t-shirt in a dark mauve colours, before completing my look with a pair of footless black tights. Naturally, my look gets a grin of approval from the still-in-bed Kayla when I return to our bedroom, doing a playful twirl before slipping my manicured toes into a pair of designer flats.

“Seriously,” Kayla chuckles as she fiddles with her phone, “any man who doesn’t think you are H-O-T is either G-A-Y or B-L-I-N-D!”

“Or T-R-A- umm, well, transphobic,” I say with a sigh.

“Transphobes don’t get to call themselves ‘men’,” Kayla snorts, before letting out a quiet giggle.

“…Are you playing with our app?” I sigh. “We’ve got to be in the lobby in half an hour to be picked up…”

“Yes, yes, MUM,” Kayla scoffs. “Can’t be expected to sell the thing if I don’t know my way around it, can I? Besides, I LOVE these little animated versions they’ve made of us.”

“They are cute,” I giggle. “There’s certainly no mistaking ‘cartoon Steph’ for a man…”

“There’s no mistaking ‘real life Steph’ for one either!” Kayla says with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “Ugh, I- are- are you feeling okay, Steph? You’ve been talking about, you know, ‘manliness’ more than usual recently…”

“Ugh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I sigh. “It- it’s just, you know… Being away from home for so long, it- it’s just kinda a bit stressful, that’s all…”

“Hope you get over it before the tour,” Kayla mumbles as she gets out of bed and heads toward the shower. “Though I should be happy that ‘being away’ is what’s stressing you out. Don’t need THAT happening again…”

“Nope,” I laugh over the roar of Kayla’s shower. “No more running away from my problems…”

“Glad to hear it!” Kayla laughs, leading to an eerie silence.

“…Well, THIS isn’t awkward,” I mumble, making my friend snort with laughter. “My fault, I suppose…”

“Just making it more awkward,” Kayla informs me. “Honestly, though, Steph, you’re not the same person you were back then. You’ve matured a lot, changed a lot, I can see that you’re way more comfortable than you were back then.”

“I guess,” I say with a shrug as I open up the Out of Heaven app on my phone and play with it in an attempt to distract myself from the conversation.

“Frankly, if anyone’s to blame, it’s Lauren,” Kayla says, making me snort with laughter at the mention of our former bandmate.

“Lauren?” I ask. “Why, exactly?”

“If she’d just been a bit more sensitive, a bit more empathetic,” Kayla replies. “She’d have realised that you needed help, not to be pushed away. Then again, she was never in it to make friends…”

“Were any of us?” I retort, before biting my lip as the room once again falls silent. “Awk-ward…”

“…Maybe not,” Kayla concedes, “but I’m glad I did.”

“Me too,” I whisper, before wincing as Kayla walks back into our room, stark naked. “God’s sake, Kayla! Ever heard of shame?”

“Oh shut up,” Kayla snorts as she pulls on her trademark look of a tight top, a long pencil skirt and high-heeled shoes. “Are we not both girls?”

“Well- yes,” I reply. “But I dunno that I’d be as comfortable getting naked in front of you…”

“In your case, it’s forgivable,” Kayla whispers, before giggling. “Besides, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before, at ballet or in a tour dressing room. And that bathroom is NOT big!”

“…Nor are you,” I remind my roommate, before laughing hysterically as she picks every pillow off her bed and hurls them at me one by one. “Okay, okay, sorry, no more short jokes for today, I promise!”

“GOOD,” Kayla says, before letting out a playful growl that just makes me laugh even more. If I was stressed before, I’m definitely not anymore, and before Kayla and I head down to the hotel lobby, I take one last opportunity to check that my look is perfect, touching up my make-up and teasing my hair. The more time I spend with Kayla, whether it’s having fun or just chatting, the more ‘Stephanie’ I feel. ‘Steve’ never had a friendship this good, and even ‘he’ can’t drag my mood down when I’m having fun like this. The only other person who ever made me feel this good, this happy to be a girl, was my ex-boyfriend Kurt…

“FINALLY!” Becca sighs overdramatically as Kayla and I enter the lobby of the posh hotel, our travel bags in tow. “Do you know how long we’ve been waiting?”

“Five minutes?” Kayla retorts with a smug look in her eyes.

“…More like two,” Becca says, making all of us- our PA included- giggle excitedly.

“The cars are waiting outside,” Nikki explains, barely stifling a yawn herself. “Then we’ll head straight to the photography studio so that we can be on an early train home. I am SO looking forward to seeing Sarah again…”

“You’re about to be joined at the hip,” Adeola snorts as she fiddles with her phone. “Though you’re, like, already that way!”

“Give her a break,” Becca orders as she gives Nikki a playful pat on her shoulder. “I know I’M looking forward to getting back home to the most important man in my life…”

“…Your fiancé or your horse?” Adeola asks her BFF, who doubles over in a fit of laughter.

“Both!” Becca giggles. “Come on, girls, our adoring public awaits…” I smile as I climb onto the back seat of the taxi next to Kayla, whilst Nikki and the drivers load our bags into the boot. All I need to do is get through today, then I’ll finally be back in London, back in my comfort zone, back where I can relax…

‘Back where you can’t run away from your problems,’ I’m reminded by the unwelcome voice of ‘Steve’- a voice I try as hard as I can to block out before we arrive at the TV studio.

Fortunately, ‘Steve’ remains quiet throughout the interview, which goes off without a hitch, as does the subsequent photoshoot, which sees the four of us dressed in casual clothes (but still expensive and sexy clothes- in my case, a crop top, a short denim skirt and brown thigh-high boots), pretending to play with the app on our phones (naturally- for whatever reason- the phones are all props, either switched off or not even real phones to begin with).

By the time the photoshoot ends, and we’re all allowed to change back into our casual clothes, the four of us are all exhausted, even though it isn’t even 1 o’clock yet!

“Ugh, I could sleep for a month,” Adeola moans as she pulls her designer maxi dress back on, before dramatically flopping onto the dressing room’s sofa.

“We- by which, I mean the agency- can only give you five days, I’m afraid,” Nikki says with a smug grin as she packs away the clothes we wore today.

“…I’ll take it,” Adeola says with a giggle.

“You’ve earned it,” Nikki says warmly. “Train back is at 1:35. First class seats are reserved, Mikey will be meeting us in London with his van and the Angelmobile.”

“Perfect,” Becca says with a giggle. “We’re not the only ones who’ve earned a break, hehe!”

“Heh,” Nikki laughs as her cheeks begin to redden. “Was tempted to stick around in Manchester to do a bit of shopping, hit some of the shops they have up here that they don’t have in London… Not really any fun without Sarah, though.”

“Aww,” Adeola giggles. “Got everything you need for the wedding, then?”

“Almost,” Nikki giggles. “It’s feeling a LOT more real now, hehe!”

“Hehe!” Becca- the only other engaged person in the room- giggles. “And by any chance, have you booked a band to sing at the reception?”

“Like I’d do that,” Nikki replies as she finishes packing away our costumes and our accessories, before leading us outside to where our taxis are waiting.

“Fancy singing yourself, then?” I tease the twenty year old woman, who grimaces as she knows what I’m going to say next. “Or do you only sing- and put videos of yourself on Twitter- when you’re really, really drunk?”

“Okay, London awaits!” Nikki says in an anxious voice, her cheeks turning a deep shade of red as the four of us have a good-natured giggle at her expense- though my giggle comes to an abrupt end as I hear a very unwelcome voice in my head.

‘As does Tom,’ ‘Steve’s voice reminds me, making me flinch. ‘There’s no avoiding it… Or is there?’

“Hey,” I say quietly, hesitating at the taxi’s open door. “I, umm, I kinda want to stay a bit, you know?” I grimace as my announcement is met by looks of concern on my friends’ faces- especially Kayla’s. “Do some, umm, do some shopping…”

“…Great idea!” Kayla says, surprising me. “Going to get something for your brother, and your new niece?”

‘Told you,’ ‘Steve’ says despite my best efforts to block out ‘his’ voice.

“Umm, I guess,” I say, before reaching into my purse for my train ticket. “Here you go, Nikki- no sense in letting a first class seat go to waste!”

“If you’re sure…” Nikki says in an unsure voice.

“…What?” I ask. “I’m 21, I’m not a child, it’s not like you can’t leave me alone…”

“…And she won’t be alone!” Kayla suddenly announces, jumping out of her taxi and standing next to me. “Nikki, can you make sure my stuff gets back to our flat?”

“Umm, sure, I guess,” Nikki says, obviously feeling more relieved now that she knows that I won’t be alone. “You sure you two will be okay?”

“She’s only asking that ‘cause us two intimidate her!” Adeola teases, making herself and Becca laugh as Nikki rolls her eyes.

“We’ll be fine,” Kayla says, and though she tries her best to hide it, I can’t help but notice the knowing look Kayla exchanges with the brown-haired girl.

“Meh, see you in London, I guess!” Becca shrugs. “On Thursday at ballet, if not before.”

“Anyone got a birthday dance this week?” Adeola asks, making me grimace yet again.

“Don’t think so, for once!” Nikki laughs. “Charlotte’s was last Thursday, next one is I think Alice at the end of June…” I sigh as the taxi pulls away, before turning to face my blonde best friend.

“I know what you’re doing,” I say.

“…Yes, I’m coming shopping,” Kayla shrugs. “It WAS your idea…”

“You’re babysitting me,” I snort.

“And you’re trying to avoid going back home,” Kayla says, her abrupt tone startling me. “After what we talked about this morning? Hmm?”

“I just- I just need to make sure I’m ready for it,” I protest, my voice withering under the tiny girl’s stern gaze.

“WE’LL make sure you’re ready for it,” Kayla says.

“I told you,” I sigh. “I’m not going to run off again.”

“Damn right you’re not,” Kayla says, before letting out a long sigh. “God, Steph… We’re- we’re just worried about you, you know? And before you say anything, this has nothing to do with ‘keeping the band together’. It has everything to do with ‘keeping Stephanie Abbott together’.”

“…Thanks,” I mumble. “Some company would be nice, I guess.” Company that isn’t inside my head, anyway, I think to myself.

“Excellent,” Kayla says with a happy grin. “Why’d you pull a face when Addie talked about birthday ballet dancing, anyway? Your birthday isn’t until January, isn’t it?”

“MY birthday, yeah,” I reply. “Guess when Tom’s is…”

“Eesh,” Kayla grimaces. “This week?”

“Actually on Thursday itself,” I say, eliciting an exasperated chuckle from my friend.

“…Got him anything?” Kayla asks.

“Umm… No,” I mumble, sighing as an inevitable smile spreads across my friend’s face.

“Perfect,” Kayla says. “Then we can buy TWO birthday presents while we’re here!” I don’t even bother to disguise my frustration, letting out a loud groan as Kayla literally drags me to the nearest tram stop.

Before too long, we’re inside Manchester’s vast Arndale Centre, before heading West to the even bigger Trafford Centre, hitting what feels like every shop in both places as we pick up gifts for my brother and my niece- a bottle of expensive whiskey and an armful of fashionable clothes for the former, and a large bundle of toys for the latter. And, of course, Kayla and I are recognised in virtually every shop we visit, with many of the cashiers we talk to actually saying that they went to our last concert in Manchester.

Of course, Kayla and I treat ourselves to plenty of new clothes as well, including new clubbing dresses each, and it doesn’t take much persuasion from Kayla for me to squeeze myself into it later in the evening and hit some of the local clubs, where we while away the evening dancing and- in Kayla’s case, at least- flirting with several of the fit, attractive guys in the club.

We eventually arrive back at our hotel (who didn’t have a problem letting two celebrities stay an extra night) just after 12:30am, where I let out a long, tired sigh as I kick off my suicidally high heels and collapse back onto my soft, plush bed.

“Feel better for that?” Kayla asks as she removes her ostentatious jewellery and her even higher heels.

“A bit,” I say. “Not that I was feeling ‘bad’ before, you know…”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Kayla shrugs. “The way you were this afternoon… Steph, I- I- ugh. I genuinely thought you were going to do a runner again.”

“…I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it,” I mumbled.

“Because of Tom?” Kayla asks, sighing as I nod. “Have you spoken to your counsellor about this?”

“Not yet,” I sigh.

“When’s your next appointment?” Kayla asks, making me grimace.

“…Would’ve been tomorrow morning,” I mumble, making Kayla throw up her arms and groan in frustration.

“Should’ve known!” Kayla groans. “For god’s sake, Steph! Do you even know what you want?”

“Well obviously, no I don’t!” I retort, before letting out a frustrated sigh. “I- I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to snap, but- ugh. All this- THIS- was never meant to happen! Okay, I love wearing women’s clothing. REALLY love it. The idea that I could be a famous, beautiful woman, it- it’s something I’ve fantasised about my whole life. But that’s just what it is. A fantasy.”

“You mean like the fantasy of a short, plain-looking seventeen year old girl going from college student to national superstar in the blink of an eye?” Kayla snorts. “’Cause nothing like THAT is ever likely to happen…”

“Okay, okay, touché,” I sigh. “You have to admit, I’ve had more of an uphill climb than you have, though.”

“Only because you keep throwing yourself back down the hill,” Kayla spits. “You know, sometimes I think that Jamie-Lee has a point about you.”

“Oh- oh just fuck off, okay?” I growl, before letting out another groan. “Ugh, sorry, sorry…”

“Think we should both get some sleep before one of us says something SHE’LL regret,” Kayla spits, heading into the bathroom to change into a loose nightdress before returning and wordlessly climbing into her bed, wrapping her sheets around her and rolling over so that her tiny back is facing me.

‘Your best friend,’ ‘Steve’ says smugly. ‘I wonder how she’d react if she knew that you still talk to me?’

“These thoughts are my own,” I whisper to myself. "I'm talking to myself. 'Stephanie' is asking 'Stephanie' this question." Much to my relief, this silences the unwelcome voice in my head, and the combination of the long day, the hard work, the shopping trip and the clubbing session mean that I’m asleep within seconds of closing my eyes.

Thankfully, neither Kayla nor I set an alarm, meaning that when I wake up the following morning, it’s already bright daylight outside- and, much to my surprise, my roommate is already awake and fully dressed.

“…Morning,” I mumble as I try to clear my head of the mercifully mild hangover brought on by last night’s clubbing session.

“Morning,” Kayla- who, as a non-drinker, obviously didn’t have a hangover- replies.

“Did we- did we have a fight last night?” I ask in a feeble voice.

“Think we did, yeah,” Kayla mumbles. "Kinda like an old married couple, heh."

“Sorry,” I mumble into my thin hotel bedsheet.

“Me too,” Kayla whispers.

“I’ll, um, I’ll call Beverly in a bit,” I say. “Think I’ve already missed my appointment time…”

“It’s okay,” Kayla shrugs. “You can call on the train, there’s no rush…”

“Yeah,” I whisper, before rolling over and sighing at the sight that greets me. On my nightstand, large as life, is a glass of water and my bottle of oestrogen pills. I certainly didn’t put them there last night, meaning there’s only one other person who could have…

“Just in case you ‘forget’ again,” Kayla says stoically.

“I’ve only forgotten three times since I started taking them,” I say, popping one of the pills on my tongue and swallowing it, opening my mouth afterwards to prove to my friend that I did indeed swallow it. “Happy?”

“I’ll be happier when I know that you’re happier,” Kayla sighs. “Steph, I- I don’t want you to think that I’m just nagging you, or worse yet, that I’m only concerned about the band. I really, really am worried about- well, YOU, you know?”

“I know,” I sigh. “And maybe I need a kick up the arse from time to time, I dunno…”

“Maybe we can call a rugby club, get a regular appointment for that too,” Kayla quips.

“Ah, going into stand-up comedy as a side job for your singing?” I ask, giggling as Kayla sticks her tongue out in response.

“Get up,” Kayla admonishes as she whips the sheets off my bed, despite my shrieking protests.

“Hey!” I complain, tugging the hem of my nightdress down in an attempt to cover my thighs. “Just because you’re not big on privacy, doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t like it either!”

“Oh whatever, you’re still decent,” Kayla shrugs, tossing me a hotel towel. “Get showered and dressed, the sooner we get back to London, the better!”

‘And the sooner you have to face everyone,’ ‘Steve’ reminds me, making me flinch as I peel off my nightdress and step underneath the soothing hot water, concentrating on the sound of the torrent in an attempt to block ‘Steve’ out of my brain.

Once I’m fully cleansed- both physically and mentally- I wrap a towel around my budding chest and another around my long brown hair, sitting down in front of the room’s mirror to apply my make-up as Kayla looks on approvingly. With every new colour that I apply to my face, every stroke of my mascara brush or every layer of lipstick, I’m reminded of just how much I love this life. As I pull on my underwear (with Kayla covering her eyes, of course), I muse on how Kayla was correct last night- some fantasies DO come true, and when I complete my look with a tight, butt-hugging miniskirt, a loose, feminine t-shirt and, of course, a pair of brand new knee-high boots that I picked up in yesterday’s shopping spree.

“Hubba hubba!” Kayla giggled as I did a twirl and pulled several feminine poses for her. “SUPER gorgeous and SUPER girly, hehe! Feel better now that you’ve got a skirt and a pair of Steffieboots on?”

“Don’t call them that!” I chastise, gently stroking the soft faux leather of my boots. “They might hear you…”

“Hehehe!” Kayla squeaks excitedly, clearly happy to have ‘proper’ Stephanie back. And I’m not ashamed to admit, I’m feeling a lot better too, now that I’m pretending to be- no, now that I’m free to be as girly as I want to be, with nothing or no one internal or external holding me back. If anything, it’s like the whole world is pushing me further down the ‘girl path’, which is only emphasised when Kayla insists on taking a photo of me for her Instagram account!

A short while later, the two of us let out sighs of relief as we collapse onto the plush seats of the first-class section of our London-bound train. Naturally, our short walk from the waiting room to the train involved posing for several selfies and dishing out even more autographs- not that either of us minded, of course!

“Okay,” Kayla says, barely suppressing a yawn and failing to suppress a giggle. “No clubbing tonight, hehe!”

“Whatever you say, old woman!” I retort, giggling as Kayla sticks her tongue out at me yet again.

“Tell me I’m wrong?” Kayla retorts.

“You are absolutely RIGHT,” I chuckle. “I’m really looking forward to my sofa, and my Xbox…”

“And your niece?” Kayla asks, causing me to tense up again. In truth, I probably am looking forward to seeing my niece. Her father, on the other hand…

“Yeah, I guess,” I say, frowning as I hear a familiar uninvited whisper in the back of my mind.

“I hope Tom doesn’t think we’re spoiling her,” Kayla muses as she gazes at the bulging bag of toys we’ve bought for the baby girl.

“Yeah, that’s not likely to be Tom’s biggest worry,” I snort.

‘That’s putting it mildly,’ ‘Steve’ snorts, making me flinch- something that doesn’t go unnoticed.

“…Steph?” Kayla asks. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” I mumble. “It- it’s just, you know, talking about him…”

‘Me or Tom?’ ‘Steve’ asks, causing me to fidget yet again, which makes Kayla’s frown deepen.

“Steph…” Kayla whispers. “Have you- have you called Dr Phillips yet? To rearrange your meeting?”

“I-“ I retort angrily, startling my friend. “…Sorry, Kayla… I’ll- I’ll call her once we get back to London.”

“Steph, seriously, you seem really, really stressed out,” Kayla says, the concern evident in her voice. “If- if you want to stop talking about Tom, then that’s fine, but-“

“Yes, I know,” I moan. “I’ve got to face him sooner or later…”

‘…Or do you?’ ‘Steve’ asks, causing me to start sweating. ‘You’ve got enough money to just stay away from London indefinitely, if you wanted… Never have to worry about Tom ever again…’

“…You hot?” Kayla asks, momentarily silencing ‘Steve’.

“Umm, thanks, you’re pretty hot too!” I reply, making the tiny blonde girl roll her eyes.

“Are you WARM?” Kayla asks. “I know it’s nearly June, but it’s not THAT hot today…”

“Oh, umm, just…” I say, wincing under Kayla’s firm stare. “I, umm, need the toilet…”

“Don’t let me stop you,” Kayla shrugs as I grab my handbag and head toward the small cubicle at the end of the carriage.

Once inside, I shut the door and take several deep breaths to try to calm myself down. Thank god no one was in here before me, I think to myself as I look at my immaculately made-up face in the mirror. It actually takes me a few seconds to remember that this near-perfect make-up job was actually applied by my own hand, I’ve become so adept at applying make-up over the last two years. Not to mention the several years beforehand that I’d spent perfecting the art of make-up application, back when wearing make-up was a rare treat, rather than an everyday thing…

‘And back when you never dared showed your face in public wearing make-up,’ ‘Steve’ reminds me. ‘The first time you went out wearing make-up, you felt ridiculous. Just like you should now.’

“Why?” I reply. “Why should I feel ridiculous for wearing make-up? Or a skirt? Or high-heeled boots?”

‘You know why,’ ‘Steve’ retorts.

“Just because I was born a boy?” I ask. “So what? Jamie-Lee doesn’t feel ridiculous for wearing make-up. Nikki doesn’t feel ridiculous.”

‘But you’re not like them,’ ‘Steve’ reminds me. ‘They never wanted anything other than to live their lives as women. You do.’

“No,” I say firmly. “YOU do.”

‘I AM you,’ ‘Steve’ retorts. ‘And you are me. I’m not saying there isn’t a part of me that wants to be a woman. But you can’t say there isn’t a part of you that yearns to be a man again.’

“That’s not true,” I whisper. “That’s not true, that’s not true, that’s not true…”

‘Then prove it,’ ‘Steve’ challenges me. ‘Go back to London. Tell your parents you’ll never be their son again. Tell Tom you’ll never be an uncle to his daughter. And tell Beverly that you want SRS.’ I bite my lip as tears of pure frustration form in the corners of my eyes. Why? I think to myself. Why couldn’t I have just always wanted to be a girl full-time? Why couldn’t life as ‘Steve’ just sucked so much that I’d have given anything to give it all up and be ‘Stephanie’ forever? Why can’t I just be happy with the life I do now have?

I try my best to reorder my thoughts, to remind myself that my life IS good, that there’s no real reason I can’t be happy with what I have, when I’m interrupted by an announcement coming from the train’s PA system.

“The next station will be Stoke on Trent,” the robotic voice announces, causing my breath to catch in my mouth.

‘This is your chance,’ ‘Steve’ urges. ‘You’ve got your wallet on you, all your credit cards, you can start fresh, no need to worry about Tom, or Kayla, or your fans… You can finally be yourself, out of the public eye, forever.’ I take a deep breath and wipe a tear from my eye as I wait for the train to come to a halt, before grabbing my bag, slipping on my sunglasses in an attempt to at least slightly disguise myself, and leaving the cubicle, merging in with the rest of the crowd leaving the train. I’ll text Kayla before the train gets into London, explain that I need some time away to clear my mind. Obviously, I’ll have to leave the band for good… Joshua and the rest of the girls won’t be happy with me, but it’s better this way, rather than constantly messing them around. And my family… They’ll have their hands full with the new arrival, they’ll barely even know I’m gone.

I take another deep breath as I walk along the platform, before my stomach begins to churn at the thought of what I’ve done. I swore I’d never walk away from my life again, that I’d never betray Kayla or the others in this way- and that is exactly what I’m doing, betraying them. Less than 24 hours ago, I told Kayla that I’d never run away again, but here I am, leaving my old life behind just as I did nearly two years ago. And this time, I barely even have a reason to. Last time I ran away, it was to avoid what I was sure was going to be the bollocking of a lifetime. What am I running away from this time? A brother I’ve known my whole life and his baby daughter? For once, I actually wish that ‘Steve’ would make his presence known, to assure me that I’m doing the right thing, but for the first time in ages, he’s silent, having apparently got everything he wanted.

With my stomach rumbling even more, I detour into the ladies’ room on the platform, making use of the facilities before taking a long look at myself in the mirror. What was I thinking, running away AGAIN? What was this ever going to accomplish, other than proving that I pay WAY too much attention to the voices in my head? Once again, I’ve let ‘Steve’ ruin my life… No. ‘Steve’ is just a part of me, and always have been. The only person who’s been ruining my life over the past few years is me, myself and I. ‘Steve’ would no doubt say that I don’t deserve my fame and success, and ‘he’s right. I certainly don’t deserve the adulation of my fans, that’s for sure. Or the loyalty that Kayla and the rest of my friends and colleagues have shown me… Maybe Jamie-Lee IS right about me.

After washing my hands, I quickly formulate a plan- I’ll get on the next train to London (which should only be in another thirty minutes tops), explain the situation to Kayla- without any lies- before talking to Joshua and quitting the band. If I’d never been in the public eye, maybe my transition wouldn’t have been so difficult. Then again, if I hadn’t joined the band, I’d probably never have transitioned in the first place… Sometimes, I do wonder whether or not ‘Steve’ would have eventually gained the courage to come out to ‘his’ family… Then again, nowadays I have difficulty remembering ever being ‘Steve’, let alone thinking like him…

With a heavy heart, I dry my hands, grab my handbag and prepare to head back to the platform to wait for the next train, when I’m greeted by the last sight I expected- or wanted- to see.

“Really needed the toilet, then?” Kayla asks, her arms folded and our bags in a neat pile next to her.

“Kayla, I- I-“ I stammer.

“Save it!” Kayla snaps, her fury clear in her eyes. “I- I don’t think I have ever been as angry with anyone as I am with you right now!”

“Kayla, please-“ I plead.

“I said I don’t want to hear it!” Kayla hisses. “You promised me, Steph! You promised me, and once again, you showed that your promises don’t mean shit!” The two of us grimace as our argument begins to attract a crowd- and it won’t be long before someone recognises us. With a sigh, Kayla grabs her bags, before motioning for me to grab mine and to follow her.

“Honestly, I was going to get back on the train,” I say. “Well- the next one- I- I was coming back to London, I promise!”

“What did I just say about how much your promises are worth?” Kayla snorts as, much to my surprise, she leads us out of the station and to a nearby taxi rank.

“Where- where are we going?” I ask as Kayla loads our bags into the rear of the taxi.

“London,” Kayla says firmly.

“But- but that’ll cost hundreds of pounds!” I protest.

“I am NOT letting you out of my sight,” Kayla growls, all but shoving me onto the back seat of the taxi before handing the driver a large wad of £20 notes. I sigh as I fasten my seatbelt ready for the long trip home. This time, my ‘exile’ only lasted a few minutes, but it seems to have done just as much damage as it did last time- possibly even more damage.

The ride home takes just over two hours, but is conducted in total silence, with Kayla brooding and me trying not to sulk the whole way home. I breathe a sigh of relief as the two of us walk through the front door of our posh flat, but even this small gesture seems to trigger my tiny friend’s rage.

“What the fuck, Steph?” Kayla hisses, literally knocking my bags out of my hand and dragging me to the living room. “What the actual fuck, Steph? Do you really hate your life that much that you’ll sabotage everything you- everything WE’VE worked for? Did you even think about what it’d do to the rest of us if you ran off AGAIN?”

“…I was going to get on the next train, I promise,” I feebly reply.

“I DON’T believe you,” Kayla spits.

“And I was going to quit the band,” I say, waiting for a reply from Kayla that doesn’t arrive. “So yes, I did think about what it’d do to the rest of you.”

“…Why?” Kayla asks, the anger in her voice replied by genuine curiosity- and a trace of fear.

“Because my life is nothing but stress and confusion,” I say.

“But- but you were doing so well,” Kayla whispers as she sits down next to me, her earlier fury all but gone. “Steph… I’m sorry I was angry, okay? I really am… I meant what I said before, I’m concerned about YOU way more than what you leaving would do to the band.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” I retort, making Kayla scowl.

“Well believe it, okay?” The tiny girl growls. “We’re friends. In fact, I’d consider you to be my BEST friend.”

“…I think that way too,” I whisper. “But I- I just can’t deal with this stress-“ Unable to control my emotions any more, I break down in a flood of tears, which prompts Kayla to lean in and give me a tight hug- an action that causes yet more tears to flow from my eyes.

“What is it that’s got you so stressed?” Kayla asks. “Is it the band? Is it Tom?”

“It’s everything,” I sigh. “I’m supposed to be this great role model for trans girls all across the country, when all I am is a guy who likes to wear women’s clothes and has just decided to roll with it!”

“How many transsexuals- genuine transsexuals- started out as ‘just guys who like to wear women’s clothes’?” Kayla asks.

“I- I don’t know,” I sigh.

“And do you want to be a man again?” Kayla asks, making me pause.

“…No,” I say. “At least, I’m pretty sure I don’t.”

“Sounds to me that you’re more than ‘just a guy who likes to wear women’s clothes,” Kayla muses. “Doesn’t matter what you WERE.”

“I guess,” I say with a shrug.

“I know,” Kayla says softly. “…Unfortunately, what you also are is a person who makes stupid decisions. And quitting the band would be one of those!”

“I need to do this by myself,” I say. “If I’m going to transition, I- I can’t do it with literally the whole country watching. And now we’ve got an app that literally lets you spy on my life with a single tap!”

“Steph, for god’s sake, you’re not alone,” Kayla sighs. “I knew I’d be giving up some of my privacy when I signed up for the band, but I never realised it’d be THIS much. Okay, I don’t have people analysing my body to see how much it’s changing due to hormone therapy- something you left behind in your bags, by the way-“

“Eesh, sorry, I didn’t think about that,” I interrupt.

“Yeah, I’d noticed,” Kayla snorts, before letting out a long sigh. “It- it’s kinda also the reason I’ve been single for so long. Hard to tie down a guy when every date gets reported in the papers like it’s a fucking football match.”

“Yeah, I’d kinda noticed that myself,” I say, remembering some of the dates I’d had with Kurt which had ended with the two of us being photographed by paparazzi. “Reckon that’s why so many singers marry footballers, that way both people are used to being in the public eye…”

“Yeah, well I’ll pass on dating a footballer, thank you,” Kayla giggles. “I’ll take someone more sensitive, like, say a model. Or maybe another singer? I dunno.”

“Or just no one at all?” I shrug.

“Really?” Kayla asks, a sly grin creeping across her face. “After the way you were flirting with some of the guys in the club last night?”

“That’s just a bit of fun,” I reply. “Wouldn’t want to introduce a guy to me the way my head is now anyway. That’s where my problems started again, when I snogged Liam at Stuart's party…”

“Why would snogging a guy cause you to stress out?” Kayla asks. “You snogged Kurt plenty, didn’t you?”

“Well- yeah,” I sigh. “But- no, no buts, he’s as much a man- actually, he’s more of a man than I am a woman, heh.”

“Only because he’s been transitioning longer,” Kayla says. “Huh, I guess even transsexuals can have a hard time breaking prejudices…”

“Probably because I’ll always feel like a man pretending to be a woman,” I mumble, prompting another hug from Kayla and yet more tears from my eyes.

“God,” Kayla moans. “You just said yourself, though, that you don’t want to be a man, didn’t you? Everyone I know accepts that you’re a woman. If that’s what you want to be, you shouldn’t let anything hold you back.”

“Or anyone?” I ask.

“Tom’s hardly ‘hold you back’, is he?” Kayla asks.

“Not Tom,” I sigh. “’Steve’.”

“Oh god, Steph,” Kayla sighs as she tightens her hug. “You really are messed up, aren’t you?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” I retort, making my friend giggle.

“Yeah…” Kayla says with a grimace. “Think you’ve gone a bit beyond my skills as a shrink, heh.”

“Think I’m beyond anyone’s skills,” I snort.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Kayla says, handing me my mobile phone. “You know who you need to call. And however stressed you are, you NEED to make this call.”

“Okay, okay,” I sigh, opening the contacts list on my phone and selecting the number for Dr Beverly Phillips. After just two rings, the phone is answered, and my heart rate once again increases.

“Good afternoon, Dr Phillips’s office, how can I help you?” the familiar voice of Joanne, Dr Phillips’s receptionist, asks.

“Oh hi,” I say with a nervous giggle. “It’s, umm, it’s Steph, Stephanie Abbott…”

“Oh, hi Steph!” Joanne replies. “Do you want to rearrange this morning’s appointment?”

“Umm, yeah…” I say hesitantly. “Umm, actually, I- I kinda need the appointment as soon as possible, please.” I briefly look over at Kayla, who smiles and nods supportively, letting me know that if I need any additional support from her, all I need to do is ask.

“She’s booked up for the whole of today,” Joanne says. But I have a gap at 9:30 tomorrow morning, if you’d like?”

“That’d be perfect,” I reply in an almost breathless voice. “Actually… Would- would it be possible for, umm, for Dr Phillips to come to my home? To, you know, make a house call?”

“Umm…” Joanne says, clearly flummoxed by my question. “Can I- can I ask why you’re not able to come into the office? Is it an urgent situation?”

“It is pretty urgent, yeah,” I immediately reply as Kayla gives my free hand a supportive squeeze.

“I can see if she’s available today, if you like?” Joanne asks. “See if she can drop in after her appointments?”

“Oh- no, I wouldn’t want to be a burden,” I say. “Tomorrow at 9:30 will be fine, I- I’ve got someone with me.”

“I’ll book that in for you,” Joanne says. “I’ll make sure Dr Phillips knows it’ll be a home visit. As it’s her first appointment tomorrow she may even be there earlier, will that be okay?”

“Yes, yes thank you!” I say, breathing a sigh of relief before bidding farewell to the young receptionist and ending the call.

“Feel better for that?” Kayla asks with a smile.

“A little,” I sigh.

“Good,” Kayla whispers. “…So, ‘Steve’, then?”

“Yep,” I sigh. “Literally as I in mid-snog with Liam. I dunno, maybe I’m just not ga- maybe I’m just not, you know, into boys. Or at least, ‘Steve’ isn’t…”

“Obviously, there’s nothing wrong with ‘alternative preferences’,” Kayla says. “And nothing wrong with, you know, ‘experimenting’…”

“Have- have you ever, you know, ‘experimented’?” I ask.

“…Not really,” Kayla mumbles. “Anyway, we’re not talking about me, are we? We’re trying to be getting you better.”

“And I thought YOU said you weren’t qualified to psychoanalyse me?” I retort, making the tiny blonde girl giggle.

“And I’m not,” Kayla says. “Not even close. But I AM your best friend. That’s makes me qualified- actually, it makes me, you know, obliged to make you feel better. You’d do the same for me, wouldn’t you?”

“Well- of course,” I whisper. “Assuming I’m actually here…”

“That- that kinda sounds like ‘Steve’ speaking,” Kayla says, making me chuckle as I realise fairly quickly that it was likely ‘Steve’ who put the thought in my head.

“…Probably,” I sigh. “Sometimes I- I kinda struggle, you know? To keep ‘me’ and ‘him’ separate…”

“Umm, like I said, I’m not a counsellor, but surely keeping ‘you’ and ‘him’ separate ISN’T a good idea?” Kayla asks, sighing as I shrug. “Either way, my VERY untrained advice is just to ignore ‘him’. Especially if ‘he’s telling you to quit the band!”

“Wish it was that easy,” I sigh. “Just hope Beverly can prescribe something tomorrow, some sort of ‘anti-Steve’ pills or something…”

“Thought your oestrogen was meant to do that?” Kayla asks.

“Physically, yes, mentally, no,” I sigh. “Gah… I- I think I just need to get my head together tonight. I’m home, so that should at least be SOME help.”

“Anything you need, just ask,” Kayla whispers, making me grin.

“Well…” I say with a sly grin. “There is ONE thing that usually helps…” Kayla giggles excitedly, before reaching underneath our coffee table for our well-used Xbox controllers.

The gaming session is a welcome distraction from my stresses, and being home and in my usual spot on my sofa really helps to set my mind at ease, though when the time comes for me to head to bed, my stresses have once again returned- and so has ‘Steve’.

‘It doesn’t matter what you or anyone else does or says,’ ‘Steve’ says to me as I lay awake in bed. ‘I’ll always be the REAL you. You’ll see that when you see Tom on his birthday.’

“These thoughts are my own,” I whisper in a desperate attempt to block the voices out of my mind.

‘Or maybe YOUR thoughts are MY own,’ ‘Steve’ retorts, making me bash my head against my pillow in frustration as I clench my eyes tightly shut and try my best to get to sleep, though whenever I do sleep, it’s only for a few minutes at most, and ‘Steve’ is always waiting to taunt me when I wake up.

With Dr Phillips arriving early, I get up extra early on the warm Wednesday morning to ensure that I’ll be in the shower first- which I realise is especially important when I look in my mirror at the tangled mess that my hair has become. With the exception of losing an inch or two here or there when having it restyled, I’ve been pretty much growing my hair non-stop for the last two and a half years, and it was long- well, long for a boy- to begin with, back when it was ‘Steve’s hair.

Naturally, it takes longer to wash than it did back then, even longer to dry and longer yet to brush out all the knots and tangles that my sleepless night caused. Once I’ve finished brushing, I take a look at my face in my mirror, and let out a long, tired sigh. Yet again, when I look at myself in the mirror, I see only ‘Stephanie’, not ‘Steve’, though I know ‘he’s in there somewhere. However, as I apply my make-up, I feel more and more at ease, almost as though ‘disguising’ myself as ‘Stephanie’ causes ‘Steve’ to vanish more and more into the background. If only it was a permanent solution…

Even though I’m not going anywhere today (as Beverly is visiting me at my home), I feel a need to be as feminine as I possibly can today, almost like I need to prove to myself- and to the world- that I am ‘Stephanie’ and not ‘Steve’. After pulling on my usual ‘control’ underwear, I stretch a pair of shiny black tights over my soft, smooth legs, before stepping into a clingy black short-sleeved bodysuit that's low-cut just enough to give the illusion of a little cleavage. After looking through my wardrobes for a skirt, I eventually settle on a khaki miniskirt that clings tightly to my backside. My look is maybe a bit 'sexy' for a meeting with my counsellor, but with every item of feminine attire that I ease onto my slender, hairless body, I feel more and more confident, more excited to be alive- but at the same time, I feel more and more apprehensive that at any moment, ‘Steve’ could rear ‘his’ ugly head, asking what I thought I was doing dressing in such a feminine manner.

As I look at my reflection in the mirror again, all I see now is someone who is unquestionably female, someone who belongs in this gender just as much as someone fortunate enough to have been born female.

‘Keep telling yourself that,’ ‘Steve’ interjects, making me flinch.

“I don’t need to tell myself that,” I say confidently. “Others will tell it to me as well. Watch.” I take a deep breath as I knock on Kayla’s bedroom door, grimacing as I hear the tiny girl stirring. Under ordinary circumstances, I wouldn’t dream of waking Kayla up in this manner, as she can be truly fierce when she’s tired, but these are far from ordinary circumstances.

“Come in,” Kayla says in a voice that almost qualifies as a growl. I bite my scarlet lip as I walk through the door, before giggling as the tiny girl- who has a pretty serious case of bed head herself- grins at my appearance and gives me a playful wolf whistle.

“You like?” I ask as I do a slow, model-like turn for my friend.

“I like it so much that I’ll even forgiven you for waking me up,” Kayla says. “Provided they make that bodysuit and that skirt in extra small, that is!”

“I’ll give you the website I got them from in exchange for your hair straighteners,” I say, grabbing the heavy hairstyling tool from Kayla’s dressing table.

“Deal,” Kayla says, sitting up. “They’ll need a few minutes to hear up. Why d’you want them, anyway? You hair’s not THAT curly…”

“It’s wavy,” I reply. “And thinner than I like. It looks- it looks more feminine when it’s arrow straight.”

“Ah,” Kayla whispers in reply. “And today, you want to go as feminine as possible, right?” I nod in reply, making my friend smile. “GOOD. Hopefully by the time Beverly leaves here, ‘Steve’ will be a thing of the past, hehe!”

“Yeah,” I laugh as I begin straightening my dark brown hair.

“You… You don’t sound so sure,” Kayla says cautiously.

“It’s just…” I say with a grimace. “What if it turns out that ‘Steve’ is the ‘real me’, and ‘Stephanie’ is, you know, a fake?”

“Ugh, Steph…” Kayla sighs. “I don’t know how many times we’re going to go down this road. I look at you, and I only see a girl. ONLY a girl. It’s not the clothes, it’s not the make-up or the hair or even those things that I know are growing on your chest. It- it’s hard to describe, Steph, but it- it’s YOU. You don’t- you may have been pretending to be a girl at the start, but you- you don’t need to pretend anymore, you know?”

“I think I know what you mean,” I whisper as I muse on how naturally feminine I act, both in my body language and my mannerisms. Even if I wanted to convincingly pass as a male, I’d have to make a conscious effort not to slip back into acting femininely.

‘But body language can be learned,’ ‘Steve’ reminds me, making me shudder.

“Oi!” Kayla yells, startling me. “Steve! Get out of my friend’s head!”

“…Doesn’t really work that way,” I say, making Kayla giggle as she gets out of bed and heads to the shower. “If only it did…”

After a quick cup of coffee- which obviously does nothing to soothe my nerves- I retreat to the sofa to wait for my counsellor to arrive, and within minutes, the familiar sound of our doorbell resonates throughout our flat.

“Hi!” I say nervously as I open the door and am greeted by the middle-aged face of my counsellor.

“Hello Stephanie,” Dr Phillips says, wiping her smart court shoes on our doormat before sitting down next to me on my sofa.

“I’ll make myself scarce, then,” Kayla says, motioning to stand up.

“No,” I whisper. “I- I’d like Kayla to stay, please.”

“It’s your session,” Beverly says.

“…And after yesterday, I- I kinda figured that Steph, well, you know…” Kayla mutters, exchanging a knowing smile with me.

“So…” Beverly says. “I take it that something happened yesterday? I know you’ve been away for a week doing publicity, you were in Manchester, if I recall?”

“Yes,” I say, taking a deep breath as I prepare to embarrass myself in front of my counsellor and my friend. “Yesterday, on the train home, I- I got- I kinda, umm…”

“Take your time,” Beverly says softly, as I glance over at Kayla with a pleading looking in my eyes.

“Steph got off the train a few stops early,” Kayla says softly. “She- she was going to run away again.”

“I see,” Beverly says, clearly unhappy with the news.

“I changed my mind pretty much immediately as I got off the train,” I plead to both women. “I honestly did, I knew that it wouldn’t solve anything-“

“But you did get the urge, the impulse to run away again,” Beverly says. “And however brief it was, you DID act on the impulse.”

“And Steph’s been hearing ‘Steve’s voice again,” Kayla says, prompting a glare from me that almost immediately vanishes as I realise that Kayla, like Beverly, is only acting in my own good.

“…I am,” I sigh. “I have been for a few months, ever since- ever since I had, umm, ever since I kissed a guy at a party…”

“Okay,” Beverly says softly. “Obviously, my first advice would be: no more guys for the foreseeable future.”

“No more guys!” I mock-cheer to the tune of our single ‘No More Lies’ while rolling my eyes.

“I know, I know, I’ve been twenty-one,” Beverly says with a grin. “But the last thing you need right now is emotional disturbance. I’m also considering whether or not you should continue with your hormone treatment.”

“…Oh,” I said, fidgeting uncomfortably as I can almost hear ‘Steve’ sniggering in the back of my mind.

“Eesh, looks like we’ve joined by an uninvited guest,” Kayla sighs, instantly recognising the tell-tale signs of ‘Steve’s presence.

“’Steve’?” Beverly asks, remaining calm as I nod and wipe a tear from my eye. “Then we should address ‘him’ now. In our previous meetings, you always described ‘him’ as being like a- a ‘presence’, rather than having a distinct personality of his own. Is this still the case?”

“It’s like- it’s like he doesn’t want me to be happy, or settled,” I sigh. “Like a constant doubt in my mind, only that doubt is speaking with my voice. My OLD voice.”

“What is it that you’re doubting?” Beverly asks.

“Whether or not I am really meant to be a girl,” I confess, breathing a sigh of relief as it feels like a weight has been lifted from my chest.

“And what do you feel?” Beverly asks. “I don’t mean ‘what does Stephanie feel’, or even ‘what does Steve feel’, but what do you, stripped of all names, feel?”

“…That all my life, I’ve dreamed of being a girl,” I say. “That my life is a fantasy. And… And I don’t know whether or not I deserve all the good things that have happened to me.”

“That’s… Not an uncommon feeling for people in your position,” Beverly says. “Especially with your fame and fortune.”

“I bet Jamie-bloody-Lee Burke didn’t ever have any episodes like this,” I snort.

“I dunno, you might be surprised,” Beverly says with a sly grin. “Stephanie… I’m not going to tell you what you should do. Only you can do that. I will listen to what you say, and tell you what I observe.”

“And what have you ‘observed’?” I ask as I try to fight back yet more tears.

“That you’ve been given- no, that you’ve EARNED a life many people would envy,” Beverly says. “And you yourself have stated that you feel like you don’t deserve it.”

“And you wouldn’t be the only one,” Kayla whispers. “By which I mean there are times I feel like I don’t deserve my fame and fortune.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I snort. “You’re, like, the most talented singer in the band. Probably the most talented singer in the country.”

“I’m a five foot nothing plain-faced nineteen year old girl,” Kayla snorts.

“You’re not ‘plain’,” I retort.

“AND you’re just as good a singer as I am,” Kayla says, making me snort with laughter. "You are! You wouldn't have made it into the band if you weren't, and you know that. You also wouldn't have made it into the band if you weren't a convincing girl. And you know THAT too."

"Well, I guess..." I mumble.

"And I don't just mean convincing-looking," Kayla continues. "Remember what I said this morning? I can see, deep down, that you're a girl inside."

"...Thanks," I whisper.

"I'm really, really glad the two of you live together," Beverly says, breaking the momentary silence. "You really do bring out the best in each other, you complement each other and boost each other's confidence marvellously. And I think that's what you need right now more than anything, Stephanie- a confidence boost."

"Yeah, easier said than done," I sigh.

"Obviously this isn't going to happen overnight," Beverly says. "And we'll need to talk more- a LOT more- before we get to the root cause of your anxieties and why their manifesting as 'Steve'. But I'm reasonably sure that 'Steve' is a manifestation of your self-doubt, of all your paranoia at the thought that you don't deserve this life. Originally, it- I won't do 'him' the dignity of using a gendered pronoun- IT was a manifestation of your paranoia at being 'found out', am I right?"

"Well- yes, I guess," I say. "And he- sorry, IT was the reason I ran away in the first place."

"I thought as much," Beverly says with a confident smile. "Stephanie, I am still convinced that medically speaking, you are a woman trapped in the body of a man. For now, I'm happy to keep you on oestrogen as well, as I feel taking you off of it will do more harm than good, but I do want to keep a closer eye on you, so I'll be booking you in for two appointments per week from now on."

"I understand," I whisper.

"Our immediate concern has to be identifying the source of your doubt and paranoia," Beverly says. "You don't need to be worried about being 'found out' anymore, as there is nothing to find out about you. So I need to ask: what were you running away from yesterday?"

"I- ugh, I dunno..." I sigh. "Tom, I guess? Though it's hardly like I see him every day- or ever, if I don't want to... Same goes for Jamie-Lee, and my love life..." I grimace as I briefly glance toward Kayla- a look I silently hope both women didn't pick up on. "...You're probably right that I put that to the back of the queue for now, heh. Maybe I'm just using all of this as an excuse to run away... Maybe I really AM afraid of- or maybe I just don't really want to be a woman after all."

"Crap," Kayla snorts, earning stern stares from myself and Beverly. "It is, though. You've had loads of opportunities to go back to being 'Steve'. You've been taking hormones for over six months. If you weren't committed, you wouldn't be sat here right now looking like THAT."

"Perhaps not the most delicate way of putting it," Beverly says with a quiet chuckle. "But it raises a question. You've said in the past that a large factor in you not turning down the position in Out of Heaven was the money side of things. Picture this scenario: you're offered a job that will offer you just as much fame and as much fortune as you have now in Out of Heaven. The only catch is you will have to live your life full-time as a male again. You'd still be able to crossdress in your spare time, and interact privately with your friends as a woman, but as far as the outside world is concerned, you would be, once again, 'Steve'. Would you take that job?"

"No," I say without a moment's hesitation, almost surprising myself with the speed of my answer.

"There you are," Beverly shrugs. "I don't need to ask if that was 'Steve' or 'Stephanie' speaking, as I know immediately that the answer is 'both' and 'neither'. If was you speaking, not some name or label you want to apply to yourself."

"Other than the only label that counts- 'woman'," Kayla says with a smug grin that fades as Beverly once again glares at her. "I, umm, I can go if- if you'd prefer..."

"No- stay, please," I say softly. "You're right. It's like 'Steve' is as far back in my mind as he's-"

"No," Beverly interrupts, making me smile.

"Sorry," I giggle. "As far back as IT has ever been. I should probably stop calling him 'Steve', too."

"I would recommend that," Beverly says with a smile. "Stephanie... I hope you realise that you aren't alone. You'll never be alone, not with this amazing circle of friends you have around you and a supporting family. And there's no need to ever run away!"

"I know, I know," I sigh. "Shall I get used to wearing an ankle bracelet?"

"I'd recommend you get used to confronting problems first, rather than avoiding them," Beverly says. "You said your top anxieties were your brother and Jamie-Lee, is that correct?"

"Yeah," I sigh. "Heh, I'm not even that fussed about Jamie-Lee anymore, I don't bother her and she doesn't bother me, but Tom... Gonna be a lot harder to avoid him. Especially with his new daughter. And to cap it all off, it's his birthday tomorrow..."

"That's certainly a set of circumstances that'll push him to the front of your mind," Beverly says softly. "He's never fully embraced you as his sister, has he?"

"No," I whisper. "He's pretty much the only person who hasn't... When we were growing up, I was actually closer to him than I was to Danny- my middle brother, you know? Danny was always the one who'd pick on me and tease me, and Tom would stick up for me... It really hurt when he rejected me when I came out."

"If he'd supported you the way Danny has, would it have made you want to run away yesterday?" Beverly asks.

"No way," I say, shaking my head.

"Then you need to tell HIM that," Beverly says firmly. "It's appropriate that it's his birthday tomorrow, as he needs to be made to see that having you as his sister is one of the best gifts he could possibly get. Well, next to a baby daughter, of course!"

"Yeah," I laugh. "I'll have to check with mum to see when we're all meeting up, 'cause of my parents' work schedules... They might have had the party already, heh."

"Text her after the session finishes," Beverly urges. "For now, I want you to focus on positive memories of Tom. Tell me a story of when he was at his kindest, like when he was defending you against your other brother's teasing."

"Well, okay," I say as I try to remember back to when my brother and I were still on speaking terms...

Just over an hour later, Kayla and I bid my counsellor farewell, before I slump back down on the sofa, my phone in hand.

"This week has been MAD," I sigh. "Pun definitely not intended."

"What pun?" Kayla asks.

"Me- because- because, you know, I'm-" I say, before the blonde girl cuts me off.

"Ah-ah-ah," Kayla admonishes. "You're stressed. Your emotions are strained. That doesn't make you mad."

"...I was once in a psychiatric hospital," I remind my friend.

"You committed yourself," Kayla retorts. "...You should probably text your mum."

"Yeah," I sigh, opening up the text messages on my phone, only to snort with laughter. "Huh, looks like I can save myself the cost of a text, mum's already texted me."

"Cool," Kayla says. "When are you meeting up?"

"Tonight," I moan. "7pm at my parents' house. Danny & Rachel will be there too."

"And your cute little niece?" Kayla asks.

"Given that she's a week old and both of her parents will be there, I'd say so," I sigh. "Kayla- I- can... Umm, would you- would you, you know... Come with me tonight?"

"Me!?" Kayla asks. "I barely even know Tom..."

"You know my parents, and they like you," I shrug. "I'd ask- ugh. No, I just- I just don't want to, you know, show up alone..."

"Of course," Kayla whispers with a nod, which turns into a giggle as I thank her with a gentle hug.

Encouraged by the session with Beverly and by Kayla's support, I spend the rest of the morning and afternoon catching up on my social media (and watching as the new app causes my usual 'like' count go through the roof), before the time comes to change for tonight's party. Rather than go in my casual clothing, I change into a smart, but still playful knee-length dress with an A-line skirt, a fitted bodice and an intricately stitched pattern throughout. It was one of the new dresses I bought while in Manchester- I never imagined that Tom would be the 'recipient' of its first outing.

Nor would I have imagined 24 hours ago that I'd be able to go through a whole day- more or less- without 'Steve' making his presence known. Beverly’s advice really paid off- by not giving 'it' a voice, by dehumanising it by using 'it' instead of 'him'... It hasn't eliminated my doubts or my anxieties, but it has cut off their 'voice', reducing them to niggling little feelings at the back of my mind- but not eliminating them altogether...

I feel more self-conscious than ever as I walk up to my parents' front door in my expensive dress and high heels, even though my best friend is stood next to me in a dress even more expensive than mine and (owing to her short stature) heels even higher than mine. It's almost a relief when Rachel- Danny's girlfriend- opens the door to reveal that she's also wearing a smart dress and heeled shoes.

"Hi Steph!" Rachel says excitedly as she greets me and Kayla with air kisses before leading us through to the living room, where the rest of the family awaits- all of whom are focussing their attention on the seven day old girl in her mother's arms.

"Finally" Danny teases, greeting me with a hug before leading me and Kayla to our seats.

"Hello Steph!" Dad says, giving me a hug like I've always been his daughter. "Hi Kayla! Thanks for accompanying Steph tonight."

"Oh, it's my pleasure," Kayla giggles. "As long as no one gets the impression that we're a couple, anyway..." I roll my eyes as Danny, Rachel and Kayla herself all giggle at the tiny blonde girl's joke. My relaxed frame of mind suddenly shatters, though, when I come face to face with the person- well, one of the people, anyway- whose birth we're gathered to celebrate.

"H- hi, Tom," I mumble.

"Hi," Tom says, barely able to look at me or even say my name. I bite my lip to try to prevent 'it' from speaking in the back of my mind, but before any negative thoughts bubble to the surface, dad stands up and quietens the room.

"My family," dad says with pride. "We're here tonight because thirty-one years ago- well, thirty years, three hundred and sixty-four days ago- Samantha and I were blessed with the greatest gift the world has to offer. The gift of a beautiful baby boy. Samantha and I were blessed twice more afterwards-" Way to avoid stating the genders of your other two children, I think to myself- "but Tom will always be our firstborn, the first child to laugh in this house, to cry in this house-"

"-To soil his nappy in this house," Danny interrupts, earning a smack on the back of his head from my father and a middle finger from our older brother.

"The point is," dad says, "for the last thirty-one years, Tom, I've watched you grow from a boy into a man. And a damned good man at that. Happy birthday, son."

"Happy birthday!" Everyone cheers- though my cheer was much more restrained than everyone else's.

"And now," dad continues, "every year at this time of year, we will get to celebrate twice as much as we had before, as this year, Tom- and, of course, Amanda, who I freely admit did all the work. Trust me, I've seen more than my fair shares of births in the back of my ambulance! Tom and Amanda have given us the greatest gift any parent can receive- a beautiful granddaughter."

"Thanks, dad," Tom says, doing his best to hide his emotions.

"No, thank you, DAD!" Dad says, making my brother laugh nervously as he makes severe furtive glances in my direction.

"So NOW can we find out what you named her?" Danny asks.

"Yes," Tom says, taking several deep, nervous breaths as he stands up. "Everyone, as you know, we had originally planned to name our daughter Claire, after Amanda's mother. But after careful consideration, we have changed those plans. Claire will be her middle name, but we have instead decided to name our daughter after her aunt, who I hope my little girl will grow to be just as good a person as. Everyone, I'd like you to meet... Stephanie Abbott." My jaw drops as Tom makes his announcement, while everyone's gaze immediately turns toward me.

"Ste- Steph-" I babble, before my emotions overcome me and I burst into a flood of tears. Immediately, I'm consoled by Kayla and my mum, only to tear up even more as Tom approaches me with his daughter in his arms.

"Stephanie, meet Stephanie," Tom says, both to me and to the baby girl.

"He- hello, Stephanie," I sniffle as Tom gently hands me the tiny baby, who I cradle in my arms. Despite my tear-streaked face, I smile as I look up at the numerous cameraphones that are pointed at me. And for once, there's no anxiety, no doubt in the back of my mind. Just an overwhelming sensation of love and acceptance. For what feels like the first time in forever, I know exactly who I'm supposed to be. Daughter, sister, and now aunt.

Half an hour later, after I've had the chance to dry my tears (and repair my ruined make-up), I find myself sat across the kitchen table from Tom, who for the first time ever is looking at his sister with a smile on his face.

"...Wow," I say after I've had the chance to catch my breath. "Really, just- wow. I- I don't know what to say, I really, really don't."

"Thank you would be a good start," Tom says, making me chuckle.

"Thank you," I say. "What- what made you change your mind?"

"Change my mind about what?" Tom asks.

"About ME!" I reply. "Twelve months ago you could barely look at me. Now you're naming your daughter after me?"

"Well," Tom shrugs. "I figured that when she goes to school and people ask her her name and she says 'Stephanie Abbott', the other kids will ask 'oh, like the singer?', then my Stephi will say 'yeah, actually she's my aunt', and then she'll be the most popular girl in the school."

"Or the least popular, for being named after a transsexual," I say in a dark voice.

"I'm hoping that by 2022, nobody will care about that anymore," Tom says.

"Big hope," I say.

"I've stopped caring about it," Tom shrugs, making me smile.

"...So what made you stop caring?" I ask.

"Becoming a father," Tom says candidly. "The first time I looked at my Stephi's face, I- I burst into tears. I was way more of a mess than you were just now, trust me. I knew then that I would literally do absolutely ANYTHING for my little girl. And I got thinking about how dad defended you against me. And I felt shame. Utterly ashamed for the way I treated you. Because I know that if I had a son who wanted to be a girl, or even if my Stephi wants to be a boy when she gets older, I'll give her my 100% support. Because that's what a father should do. And... It's what a big brother should do. Or in my case, should have done. Hopefully this'll go some way toward making it up to you."

"Oh- trust me, I owe YOU for this, heh!" I say, making Tom chuckle.

"Can you get little Stephi into that dance class you go to?" Tom asks. "When she's old enough, of course."

"Consider it done," I say. "Actually... How long are you off work for?"

"Another week on paternity leave," Tom says. "Why?"

"Are you, Amanda and Stephi doing anything tomorrow?" I ask, a sly grin creeping across my face.

The following morning, the grin on my face has changed from a sly one to a nervous one, as I stand next to the heavily pregnant Krystie Fullerton- who predictably signed Stephi up for toddler classes two years from now the second she laid eyes on the baby girl.

"Girls," Krystie announces, "as you know, it's tradition in this class for a student to perform a solo dance on the class closest to their birthday. Today, we are celebrating the birth of Stephanie Abbott... The second. But as little Stephi is only eight days old, the dance will be performed by her gorgeous, girly auntie instead!"

I smile as the music begins and I begin to perform my hastily-practised steps. On my body is a gorgeous, extra-wide pink tutu, my legs are covered in skin-tight pink tights, and on my feet are my own pair of shiny satin pointe shoes. When I wore this costume in January for my own birthday, I felt self-conscious to be wearing it in a room full of 'real women'. But today... I belong in this costume just as much as any of the other women in the room belong in their pink tights and black leotards. Even Jamie-Lee Burke (or Jamie-Lee Milton as she's now known), who is the first to congratulate me with a tight hug at the end of my routine.

The approval I really care about, though, comes from the proud father who is sat at the side of the room cradling his eight day old daughter in his arms. His tale of breaking down at the sight of little Stephi just proves to me that no one ever has it 100% together all the time. It's okay that I sometimes get stressed. That doesn't make me any less a person, or more importantly, any less a woman. I'll be fine, just as long as I don't turn my back on the people who love me- because I now know for sure that they'll never turn their backs on me. And the 'thing' in the back of my mind? No longer has a voice, or any place in my life. Sure, I might not have a lover right now, as I'm reminded when Becca and Adeola greet their boyfriends with long kisses at the end of the lesson, but I have something much more important- family.

"You were AWESOME," Kayla says as I change from my tutu back into my street clothes. "What you got planned for the rest of the day?"

"Just hanging out with the family," I say. "Fussing over little Stephi all day, probably."

"Aww, SO cute," Kayla sighs. "I'll see you back at the flat, then?"

"Why?" I ask. "Any reason you shouldn't be part of this family?" Kayla laughs and gives me a tight hug at my invitation.

"So cool!" Kayla squeaks excitedly. "Just let me get my skirt on and I'll see you outside then... Sis!"

"Yep!" I squeak as I head out into the waiting area, where my family are sat fussing over the baby girl. 'Sis'? Yeah, that works for me. For now, anyway...

As the bars of the final song of the night play, my bandmates and I take a step back from the edge of the stage and dip into a long curtsey. The entire crowd- all twenty thousand plus of them- all leap to their feet, screaming their approval of our concert just as they’ve done for every concert we’ve played over the last two and a half years. And just like all those previous concerts, I feel my skin tingling with goosebumps at the reaction of the people who’ve come to see us today. A quick glance to my left and right reveals that my friends all feel the same way, especially my flatmate- though there is another reason she might be nervous, today of all days.

“Thank you Southampton!” I yell into my microphone. “We love you all! But… There’s one more song we need to sing today-“

“Oh- oh no, don’t you dare!” Kayla says into her microphone.

“-And I’m going to need ALL of you to help us sing it!” I continue, smiling smugly as my tiny blonde friend cringes.

“On three,” Becca orders with a smug grin. “One, two, three…”

“Happy birthday to you,” the three of us- and twenty thousand in the stadium’s seats- sing. “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Kayla, happy birthday to you!”

“Oh my god, thank you so much!” Kayla yells to her hometown crowd, her cheeks growing even redder as they begin chanting her name, followed by the band’s name in a hockey-style chant. Becca and I hoist Kayla onto our shoulders and Adeola raises one of her arms into the air as we retreat backstage, soaking up the adoration of the crowd with every step we take.

“That was AWESOME,” Adeola chuckles tiredly as we shut our dressing room door behind us. “Even better than the one we did here in July!”

“Kinda wish the three of us had a hometown other than London,” Becca muses as the hometown birthday girl playfully rolls her eyes. “Oh come on K, you have to admit, we ALWAYS get a great reception in Southampton, and it’s all thanks to you!”

“Didn’t know your family was THAT big,” I tease, giggling as Kayla hurls a make-up remover pad at me. “And besides, we do get a great crowd in London, don’t we?”

“That’s ‘cause everything’s great in London,” Adeola says, letting out a long sigh as she eases out of the tight red and white striped shorts and crop top and fishnet tights that made up tonight’s costume. “Oh, GOD that’s better, hehe!”

“Gonna meet the fans in just a thong with your tits hanging out, then?” Becca teases her BFF, also earning a make-up remover pad in the face.

“Ugh, just gimme a sec,” Adeola sighs, taking several deep breaths to relax. “Spent the last two years in the public eye, think I deserve a few minutes of ‘me time’.”

“Could be worse,” Kayla muses as she swaps her costume for one of her trademark long-sleeved tops and pencil skirts. “You could’ve spent your entire adult life in the public eye. Not that I’d swap this for anything, hehe!”

“And it could be even worse than that,” I sigh. “You could’ve spent your entire FEMALE life in the public eye.” I bite my scarlet-coloured lip as my confession causes an awkward silence to fill the room.

“…Group hug?” Adeola suggests.

“Not until you put a top on!” I caution, which makes the tall, dark-skinned girl rise from her chair and approach me, Becca and Kayla with outstretched arms- something she’s only dissuaded from when she gets an entire bag of make-up remover pads thrown at her!

“Admit it, though,” Adeola says with a smug grin. “You wouldn’t swap this for anything either, would you?”

“Never in a million years,” I say with a grin of my own as I strip off my costume, pull on my underwear (including a pair of shiny black tights) and change into a clingy grey long-sleeved bodysuit, a stretchy black miniskirt- both of which beautifully hug my fledgling curves- and, of course, a pair of black knee-high boots. My body’s certainly changed a lot since I joined Out of Heaven- and it’s far from the only thing about me that’s changed.

Ever since my last ‘incident’ five months ago, ‘Steve’ has ceased to be a part of my life- even a fond memory. I’ve continued my regular meeting with Dr Phillips, and she’s become increasingly convinced that my clinging on to ‘Steve’ was a case of my initial venture into womanhood being too fast and going ‘too deep’. She’s certain I should have transitioned more gradually, and that if I hadn’t joined that band, I’d have chosen to transition eventually… And I’m certain of that too, for several very good reasons- not least the physical changes that have happened to my body.

I’ve been taking oestrogen now for a year and I have really started to see the changes. My skin is softer and smoother than it’s ever been, my waist has narrowed, my hips and backside have widened slightly (not enough so that I don’t have to buy a whole new wardrobe, fortunately) and there have been a couple of ‘obvious changes’ to my chest (currently between an A and a B cup, to be precise). But the most significant thing about my physical changes is that the more I change… The more comfortable I feel in my life.

At first I thought that this was simply my discomfort at being the ‘odd one out’ easing- whenever I was onstage with the girls before I was always conscious of being the only one with ‘a little extra something’. As my body changes from male to female, that discomfort will obviously ease, but even when I’m not onstage, I feel more comfortable. When I’m having out at one of the Heavenly Talent parties, or even with my family or gaming with Kayla, or even when I’m all by myself, I feel more ‘me’ than I ever did before hormones.

Of course, it helps that I finally have the support of ALL my friends and family. Ever since the birth of my namesake, Tom and I have grown closer than ever, and we regularly meet up for coffee after work. Tom and his fiancée even came to one of Charlotte Hartley’s parties over the summer- though it was one of the daytime ones where all the children could attend too. It should go without saying that every time I see little Stephi, I spoil her rotten- after wiping several tears from my eyes at Tom’s beautiful gesture of naming her after me! Tom’s acceptance of me has also meant that he and Danny are now closer than they had been recently, which also makes my parents happy, especially as Tom’s fiancée Amanda and Danny’s partner Rachel have grown closer as well- both to each other and to the rest of the family. This is, however, responsible for the only remaining area of stress in my life- the fact that my brothers are both in stable, long-term relationships, while I’m still as single as I ever was.

Of course, as a rich celebrity- and despite my ‘status’- I could in theory have my pick of any guy I want. Or any willing girl, obviously- even though my eye is more drawn to men than to women. That being said, though, my ‘type’ definitely seems to be ‘feminine guys’- but as I haven’t been on so much as a coffee date since May, it’s more accurate to say that I don’t have a ‘type’ at all. Dr Phillips seems to think that this is a good thing, that it’s an added complication I don’t need in my life, but I still feel a little anxious every time I see my brothers with their partners, or Becca with her fiancée, or Adeola with her boyfriend… Or any time Kayla goes out on a date with anyone.

For some reason, Kayla going on a date is more of an anxiety trigger for me than anything (or anyone) else. Maybe it's because I know that eventually, she'll be snuggled on the sofa next to me once again, leading to me once again wondering whether or not the guys she goes out with are the people she REALLY wants to go out with. It doesn't help my anxieties that none of these dates have ever amounted to anything- Kayla hasn’t even so much as hung a bra on her bedroom doorknob in the last few months. Sometimes I’m as worried for her as I am anxious about myself- especially if she’s wanting something that might not be good for her. Or I'm wanting something that might not be good for either of us...

However, love lives aside, both of us are more than happy with our lives as they stand, especially with our career going from strength to strength. Our PA has told us that we’ve even had fans come over from America for today’s concert, leading to Joshua enquiring about the possibility of a launch over there, and we’ve apparently very popular in Japan, meaning that the four of us may spend the next few months, if not years, jetting all around the world, singing to packed crowds. For all my anxieties, my life really is a dream come true- and I can tell that all of my friends feel the same way, especially my tiny blonde BFF, who giggles excitedly as we open the backstage door and are immediately confronted by dozens of over-excited fans.

After over an hour of autographs and selfies (including the American girls who flew over to see us, happily), the four of us get back in our tour coach, ready to head to our next destination- even though said destination is only a few miles down the road.

“Three down, one to go!” Becca cheers as she crashes onto her carefully-decorated bunk. “And finally, I can slip THIS back on my finger…” Kayla, Addie and I all coo as Becca slips her sparkling engagement ring back onto her left hand, just driving home my own anxiety about my single status.

“Reckon we’ll ever do another one in Scotland?” Adeola asks. “I mean, sure, we ain’t had Lauren in over a year now, but still, you know?”

“Preferably not in winter!” I say, earning giggles from the other girls. “Besides, today should be all about celebrating the southern girl, shouldn’t it?”

“…No,” Kayla mumbles, before shrieking with laughter as we all ambush her with a group hug.

“Happy birthday, miss no-longer-a-teenager!” Becca squeaks, earning another shriek of laughter from the tiny girl.

“Stop it, really!” Kayla giggles. “…Okay, don’t stop it- never let it be said that I don’t LOVE being the centre of attention!” Kayla shrieks again as our group hug tightens. “Just maybe not the centre of a crush, hehe!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Adeola giggles as we release the tiny girl and sit back down on our bunks. “God, I can’t believe I’ve never been to your parents’ before, you know?”

“In fairness, I’ve only been to your parents’ as your dad- well, you know what I mean- is my manager,” Kayla retorts.

“Yeah, but still, though,” Adeola says.

“I think what Addie’s trying to say is ‘we ought to be closer than sisters, being in the same band together’,” Becca says.

“Pretty much, yeah,” Adeola chuckles.

“…Sleepover tonight, then?” I say, giggling as Kayla rolls her eyes.

“Oh go on,” Becca says. “Your parents’ house is big enough, isn’t it?”

“Buckingham Palace wouldn’t be big enough for the four of us!” Kayla retorts. “…Okay, I’ll ask my parents when we get there.”

“Yay!” Becca, Adeola and I all cheer, our giggles growing louder as Kayla cringes more and more.

Mere minutes later, the bus pulls up outside Kayla’s parents’ modest, middle-class house, and as the four of us disembark, Kayla immediately cringes again when she sees her parents standing in the doorway holding a banner reading ‘Happy Birthday to the Best Daughter Ever!’

“Oh- mum!” Kayla protests. “Do you want to embarrass me any more?”

“Huh,” Kayla’s mother says with a fake huff. “Maybe this banner is wrong and it isn’t our daughter’s birthday today, as she’s clearly still a teenager!”

“…Thanks,” Kayla says, blushing as me, Becca and Adeola have a good-natured giggle at her expense.

“Come on, come on in out of the cold,” Kayla’s father says to the four of us, ushering us into the house where we discover that the living room is filled almost floor to ceiling with brightly-wrapped presents.

“Oh- oh my god,” Kayla gasps at the sight of the gifts. “This is too much, I mean- I earn more money than you, for god’s sake…”

“A lot of these are from your friends in London,” Kayla’s father explains. “Your friend, the one teaching you the guitar, dropped them down earlier in his van.”

“Oh my god,” Kayla repeats, sitting down in the only spot on the sofa that isn’t covered with gifts.

“You really think we wouldn’t spoil you?” Becca says with a smug grin.

“Sisters have got to go it for themselves, you know?” Adeola giggles.

“I have the two best families in the world!” Kayla squeaks, jumping up from the sofa to give me, Becca and Adeola a tight hug each.

“THREE best families,” Kayla’s mum says with a smile. “A lot of these are from your fans too.”

“Wh- what!?” Kayla squeaks.

“A lot of fans brought gifts and cards that they dropped off at the concert,” Kayla’s father explains. “They’re probably just silly little things, but-“

“This is AMAZING,” Kayla laughs.

“YOU are amazing,” Mrs. Ford says, giving her daughter a tight hug. “You’ve worked so hard for all this fame and fortune, you deserve it. All you girls do.”

“And you were all great at tonight’s concert!” Mr. Ford chuckles, making all four of us ‘sisters’ blush. “Now come on, get opening or you’ll still be opening them on your 21st!” Kayla squeaks excitedly as she starts tearing open her cards and her presents.

Hours later- just before 1am, in fact- all the presents have been opened, several photos have been posted to Instagram of Kayla showing off her gifts and thanking her fans, and the six of us are utterly exhausted after a long, hard day.

“Obviously you three can stay here tonight,” Kayla’s mother says as she serves me and my bandmates with very welcome mugs of hot chocolate. “Gary can make up the spare beds and the sofas for you.”

“Thanks,” Adeola half-says and half-yawns. “Sorry, normally we have a bit more energy than this, hehe!”

“As long as you save it for the stage and your fans, that’s what matters,” Mr. Ford says, before leaning in to give his reluctant daughter another tight hug. “And that goes double for you, not-so-young-any-more woman! I will admit, when you first told us that you’d joined a band, I didn’t know what to think!”

“Ooh, now THIS sounds like a story I want to hear!” I giggle, earning a foul stare from the tiny girl.

“Suffice to say, any doubts we had vanished a long time ago,” Mr. Ford. “I am so, so, so proud of you, my beautiful, talented and perfect daughter.”

“Thanks, dad,” Kayla sniffles.

“Almost makes up for the fact that we won’t be seeing any grandchildren anytime soon!” Kayla’s mother says, earning a cringe not just from her daughter, but from the rest of the women in the room too- myself included.

“Now go on,” Mr. Ford urges. “Get yourself to bed. Still got a lot of hard work ahead of you!”

“Yes, sir!” Kayla giggles, giving all of us in the room a tight hug each before heading upstairs to her bedroom- though I can’t help but notice that the hug she gives me seems to last longer than any of the others, even the ones she gives her parents…

“If you three want to freshen up, you can use the downstairs toilet, or our en-suite,” Mrs. Ford offers.

“Oh, we- we’re fine, thanks,” Becca says. “We took our make-up off after the concert.”

“We’ve got to be back in London by noon tomorrow,” Adeola explains. “More publicity for the tour, never mind the fact that London sold out weeks ago, heh!”

“We’ll let you get some rest, then,” Mrs. Ford says, before showing upstairs.

After a quick trip to the toilet to relieve myself, I head toward the spare room, where I’ll be spending the night, but on my way there, I pass by Kayla’s bedroom door. After briefly hesitating, I gently knock on the door.

“Kayla?” I whisper. “You still awake?”

“Mmph,” Kayla moans from inside the room. “Come in, Steph.” I gently open the door and step into the room- waking Kayla up is never a good idea, even if she has only been in bed for a few minutes.

“Are- are you feeling okay?” I ask, squinting in the darkness of the room. “You seemed kinda overwhelmed earlier, that’s all…”

“I- I’m fine, honestly,” Kayla says. “Go to bed, Steph.”

“Yes, mum,” I tease, making out just enough of my friend’s face in the gloom to realise she’s sticking her tongue out at me. “And by the way, it’s not a proper sleepover party if we all sleep in separate rooms!”

“Good!” Kayla laughs, hurling her spare pillow at me just as I close her bedroom door.

I wake up the following morning just after dawn and am briefly confused when I realised I’m not in my bedroom at home or in my bunk on the tour bus. However, my confusion quickly disappears when I realise I’m in a room I’ve slept in before on more than one occasion. After washing my face and taking my oestrogen tablet, I pull on the clothes I was wearing yesterday before heading downstairs to find that the rest of the household is already awake.

“Ugh, FINALLY,” Becca teases, giggling as I stick my tongue out at her.

“You could’ve woken me, you know,” I say. “I’m not like Kayla.”

“Oh- shut up, you!” the blonde girl snorts.

“She still has trouble getting up in the morning?” Mr. Ford asks, chuckling as his daughter starts blushing.

“I’m up now, aren’t I?” Kayla asks.

“Maybe someone’s just eager to get back to London,” Mrs. Ford says.

“It’s not THAT,” Kayla protests. “It- ugh, I dunno. Maybe I’m used to getting up early on Wednesdays because it’s ballet morning, even though we’re not going today.”

“Even though it was only moved back to Wednesday a month ago?” Adeola asks.

“Not helping!” Kayla snorts. “Ugh, I dunno.”

“You’re probably just coming down after the high of the concert,” Mr. Ford suggests. “I mean, last time you played in Southampton, you were back on your bus afterwards, this is the first time you’ve done a concert and come straight home, that HAS to be a culture shock, right?”

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m sure that’s it,” Kayla whispers, an obviously forced smile on her face.

“Speakin’ of the bus…” Adeola says with a sigh. “Reckon you’ve got about ten minutes to grab breakfast before we’ve got to get back on the road, Steph.”

“…Will that thing fit through a drive-through?” I ask, earning giggles from the other five people at the table.

In the end, I settle for a very quick piece of toast, before my bandmates and I are bundled back onto our tour bus, ready for the final leg of our trip.

“Try not to leave it three months before coming home next time,” Mrs. Ford says, giving her wriggling daughter an extra-long hug. “And you ARE allowed to come for reasons other than work! That applies to you three as well.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Ford,” Becca says with a genuine smile.

“Time to get this show back on the road, I guess!” Kayla giggles, giving her parents one last hug each before getting back on the bus, where she collapses onto her bunk with a long, heavy sigh.

“That bad, eh?” Becca teases. “Would’ve thought you’d have loved being back at home, in your own bed…”

“My ‘own bed’ is in London,” Kayla chuckles. “…I dunno. My parents can be a bit ‘much’ at times, you know?”

“My uncle’s a bleedin’ human loudhailer!” Adeola retorts, earning giggles from the rest of us. “But I think I know what you mean. Maybe we should get Stu to write a song about embarrassing parents?”

“What, sing about something our fans REALLY care about?” I ask, giggling as the other girls hurl their pillows at me.

“Stu says the third album will be aimed at an older audience,” Becca says. “The fans who are growing up with out of Heaven, heh! Besides, doubt our dad would appreciate being called ‘embarrassing’. Even if it was painful watching him try to dance to 'Warrior Angels'!”

“He’s sixty-eight and got an arthritic knee, reckon it was more painful for him!” Adeola chuckles, leading to what has become one of the band’s trademarks over the last few months- a loud, but always good-natured argument between the two BFFs that Kayla and I happily lay back and watch as the bus heads back towards London.

A short while later, the bus pulls up outside mine and Kayla’s posh flat, and after several trips to unload all of my BFF’s birthday presents, the two of us collapse heavily onto our sofa, both obviously glad to finally be home.

“Ugh… I SO missed this place,” Kayla sighs as she sinks into the sofa’s plush cushions. “Don’t mind me, think I’m just going to sit here and melt for a bit…”

“Yeah, well a taxi’s picking us up to take us to an interview in an hour’s time, so try to un-melt before then, okay?” I chuckle.

“No promises,” Kayla chuckles, switching on the television as I start to unpack my many suitcases. “Steph…”

“Kayla…?” I ask.

“Do you- do you ever miss, you know, being ‘at home’?” My best friend asks. “I mean, living at home with your parents, with your ‘real’ family…”

“…Sometimes,” I shrug. “My mum sometimes gets on at me to move back, heh. Guess that’s what comes with being the youngest, always seen as the baby of the family.”

“And with being the only girl?” Kayla asks, before biting her lip as she realises what she just said. “Umm, what I mean, umm, well-“

“That doesn’t make things any easier,” I whisper. “My old room at home… It was ‘Steve’s room.”

“Ehh… Let’s drop this topic, okay?” Kayla asks.

“No, it’s okay,” I say reassuringly. “Dr Phillips says that talking about things like this is good for me.”

“Heh, might be good for me, too,” Kayla chuckles.

“Yeah, but you’re not as messed up as I am,” I laugh, earning a sympathetic smile from my friend.

“You’re not ‘messed up’,” Kayla sighs. “Or if you are, we all are. This will sound weird, but- I really didn’t feel comfortable at home, you know? Like the Kayla who left that house two years ago isn’t the same Kayla who went back there two days ago.”

“Can’t imagine what THAT feels like,” I retort, earning another sigh from my friend.

“Okay, touché,” Kayla concedes. “But- but, you know? I actually feel far more at home here than I do in my parents’ house. I feel far more at home with you and the other girls, the Angels, than I do with my own parents, for god’s sake.”

“Ahh… The Heavenly Talent ‘extended family’,” I chuckle. “I think I kinda get where you’re coming from.”

“You’ve felt that way too?” Kayla asks.

“Sometimes,” I confess. “’Cause I’m sure my family still see ‘Steve’ when they look at me… But no one in the HT family ever knew ‘Steve’, so as I become more and more ‘Steph’, it’s like I sometimes feel closer to them than to mum and dad, or even Danny. And especially Tom, heh.”

“…I knew ‘Steve’,” Kayla shrugs.

“…Maybe,” I concede. “But you met ‘Steph’ first.”

“Did I?” Kayla asks. “Always thought ‘they’ were the same person.”

“Yes, yes, OKAY,” I say, making the tiny girl giggle. “And for what it’s worth, yes, it was supremely weird at first, going to work as ‘Steph-‘ as, umm, as a girl, but then going home and living as a boy. I am so, so glad I finally chose one, heh. The RIGHT one, hehe!”

“I’m glad too,” Kayla says softly.

“And maybe I’m being too hard on my family,” I muse. “Even if they do see ‘Steve’ when they look at me it’s only because they had nineteen years of ‘Steve’. And they all love ‘Steph’.”

“Especially the little girl who’s got your name,” Kayla says. “Who will NEVER know ‘Steve’.”

“Very true,” I say. “Kinda a weird thought, really. Tom says having my name will make her the coolest kid in school, but- you know? She’s going to go through life being named after a transsexual. THAT can’t be fun.”

“Well, she won’t start secondary school until what, 2028?” Kayla says. “A lot can change in eleven years.”

“Hope so,” I mumble.

“And besides,” Kayla says, “I’ve heard there have been a few ‘Jamie-Lee’s been registered over the last few years.”

“Ugh, maybe I’m NOT closer to the HT crew than I am to my blood relations, then,” I sigh.

“Oh- what?” Kayla moans. “I thought you and Jamie were friends now?”

“We’re civil,” I shrug. “Can be in the same room as each other without clawing each other’s eyes out. ‘Friends’ might be pushing it a little.”

“Well she’s bound to be more level-headed now that she’s a mum, right?” Kayla asks. “I’ve heard that she- Jamie’s daughter, that is- and little Stephi are already friends.”

“They’re both only a few months old,” I retort. “They barely even know the other one’s there.”

“Still, would you rather they were best friends, or had the same relationship as you and Jamie?” Kayla asks.

“Well- best friends, obviously,” I say.

“And would you rather you and Jamie were best friends or- well, what you are now?” Kayla asks.

“…Best friends,” I say with a long, tired sigh. “Though to be honest? I’m more than happy with the best friend I already have.”

“Aww!” Kayla coos, rising from her seat to give me a long, tight hug. “I love my best friend too, hehe!” yeah… Really need THIS confusion now, I think to myself.

“So… We’re the new Charlotte and Jamie, then?” I ask.

“Mm,” Kayla shrugs. “They were both only children too, and while you’re not, you don’t have, like, any sisters.”

“Don’t my brothers’ partners count?” I ask.

“Nah, too old,” Kayla laughs. “Kinda like Nikki and her sister, I mean, there’s an eighteen year age gap there- and I know Nikki adores the little girl, but do you reckon they’ll ever be REALLY close?”

“I dunno, me and Tom were pretty close and he’s ten years older than me,” I shrug, before looking quizzically at my friend. “…So, then, umm, are we more ‘Nikki and Sarah’ then ‘Jamie and Charlotte’, then?”

“Shut up,” Kayla mumbles, giggling and giving me a playful elbow in my ribs. That’s not a ‘no’, I think to myself. “Oh- wait, I’ve had an idea, you mentioning Snikki- why don’t we have a games night tonight?”

“Sure,” I shrug, trying to ease my frustration at Kayla’s non-committal answer. “Been a while since the last one, although we are still TECHNICALLY on tour…”

“Eh, whatever,” Kayla snorts. “Will be good, help us blow off some steam and catch up with what’s been happening since we were away. I’ll call Nikki, see if she can round up whoever’s free tonight.”

“Cool,” I say, sighing at Kayla’s blunt deflection of the question. “Meantime, I REALLY need to get changed for the interview. I mean, I’ve worn this outfit- in public- two days in a row now, right?”

“…You total GIRL,” Kayla teases, making me giggle as I head into my bedroom to change into a lighter pair of tights and a fashionable long-sleeved, short-legged red playsuit that I once saw on a fashion website and decided I needed to buy- way back in 2014, when my legal name was still ‘Steve’ and not ‘Stephanie’. Maybe Kayla WAS right about ‘Steve’ and ‘Steph’ being the same person after all. Obviously, my look is completed with another pair of high-heeled knee-high boots that Kayla rolls her eyes at when she emerges from her bedroom wearing another smart pencil skirt and top combo.

“You know, your shins aren’t THAT bad to look at,” the tiny girl teases.

“Nor are your knees,” I giggle, pointing at the hem of Kayla’s skirt. “Besides, I am ‘Steffieboots’, aren’t I?”

“Thought you hated that nickname?” Kayla asks.

“There are worse nicknames to have,” I muse. “God knows I’ve earned a few online.”

“From people who aren’t important?” Kayla asks.

“SO unimportant,” I giggle. “Whereas ‘Steffieboots’ was invented by Addie, who IS kinda important, hehe! So, the boots stay ON.”

“Glad to hear it,” Kayla giggles. “Boots are sex-y, hehe!” An awkward silence fills the room as we both consider what my BFF just said. “Umm, anyway…”

“Yeah,” I say, suddenly feeling VERY self-conscious in my boots. “Did- did you call Snikki? Umm, Nikki, I mean?”

“Umm, yeah, she’s gonna grab a few people after she does her community service, meet us here at about seven,” Kayla mumbles. “Steph, about-“

“…Yes?” I ask as Kayla suddenly pauses mid-sentence.

“Oh- it’s nothing,” the blonde girl says with a giggle. “Come on, don’t want to keep our adoring public waiting!”

“Umm… This interview IS pre-recorded and not live, you know?” I ask. “Pretty sure they could wait if they needed to?” I giggle as this earns me a playful elbow in my abdomen (my ribs being a little too high for Kayla in my heels and my natural six inch height advantage), but inside, I really, really wish she would just end her indecision. If Kayla does have a thing for me, then I can act on it, see where it goes, and if she definitely doesn’t, then I can move on and stop being so hung up on her. We’d still be friends- best friends, even, and maybe even better friends than we are now if I didn’t have the whole ‘what if?’ question looming in the back of my mind. I’d be a little disappointed, of course, but at least I’d have an answer. If only she’d just stop dropping these damned hints…

The interview goes great, of course- the four of us answer all the questions put to us and do our best to promote both the tour and the massive haul of merchandise that will be released supporting it (especially with Christmas only two months away), and thankfully, the interviewer avoids asking any personal questions to me, either about my transition of my (lack of) relationship status This means that when we arrive home, Kayla and I are both happy and relaxed- and obviously, deliberately avoiding any discussion of what we were talking about earlier.

“That was easier than I was expecting,” Kayla muses as she rummages in our fridge for something to eat.

“Or we’ve become a lot better at interviews than we used to be!” I giggle. “You still imagine the interviewers in their underwear?”

“Meh, depends on who it is,” Kayla shrugs. “Gethin Jones- yes, for obvious reasons. Piers Morgan- no, also for obvious reasons! If it’s someone like Steve Jones, sometimes I picture them in MY underwear, hehe! Uhh- umm, no offence intend-“

“None taken,” I giggle. “Kinda done the same thing myself at times, heh.”

“Probably doesn’t help that much when it’s Jamie you’re talking to, I’d imagine,” Kayla says, making me groan loudly. “…Problem? Didn’t realise I was now banned from merely saying her name…”

“No, it’s just now I remember where I saw this playsuit before,” I sigh, gesturing to the soft garment covering my torso. “Was one of her blog posts ages ago, 2013 maybe, before she was an ‘Angel’.”

“Aww, you followed her blog?” Kayla teases.

“Well- yeah,” I chuckle. “She went from being a shorter than average boy to being a glamorous supermodel. Kinda struck a chord, you know?”

“And yet, you hate her,” Kayla says. “They say ‘never meet your heroes’…”

“Weirdest thing is thinking that there are girls out there who feel the same way about me,” I snort. “Even after everything I’ve done, heh. Reckon Jamie-bloody-Lee-bloody-Burke doesn’t feel that way though.”

“I dunno, reckon she could always learn a thing or two from you,” Kayla shrugs, disappearing into her room and emerging a few minutes later in a very comfortable-looking, very slouchy pink and grey hoodie and a pair of tight black leggings.

“You’d never see her dressed like THAT, for example,” I giggle, heading into my room and emerging in a similar slouchy outfit.

“Even when walking around Lidl with her baby?” Kayla asks.

“Oh please, like she even knows what Lidl is,” I giggle. “You- you ever talked to her much?”

“Jamie?” Kayla replies. “A little. Probably even less than you have, though I’ve, well, shouted less than you have, heh.” I let out a long sigh at Kayla’s joke- ever since our actual fight last year, it’s become a joke among our ‘extended family’ that me and Jamie hate each other, and while that’s not technically true- not anymore, anyway- it’s still one ‘blemish’ on my character that I’d be more than happy to finally wipe clean.

“I- I really feel like I should, you know, bury the hatchet,” I say hesitantly. “And no, not in her skull, before you say it!”

“After you were just making fun of her?” Kayla teases.

“Well think about it,” I say. “I’m reconciled with Tom, the truth is entirely out in the open about me, there are no more- no more lies, heh. Me and Jamie, our animosity… It’s really the only ‘thing’ I have left, you know? The only thing holding me back…”

“Well, that and your shocking love life,” Kayla teases, giggling as I give her a playful shove.

“Look who’s talking!” I snort. “Reckon Jamie’ll be round tonight?”

“Doubt it, she’s not much of a gamer,” Kayla shrugs. “I can always text Nikki though, get her to pick her up…”

“…Nah, probably best if we talk in private anyway,” I say. “Finally clear the air, find some common ground, clear this tension between us.”

“I thought you were having joint sessions with your counsellor with her?” Kayla says. “Aren’t they helping?”

“A bit,” I say. “It’s the fact that we still need them that’s the problem. And there are things I can’t really say in front of Beverly, you know?”

“Well, we’re having that meeting with Joshua tomorrow,” Kayla shrugs. “Jamie will probably be around too, you can always catch her then if you want?”

“Sounds like a plan,” I say with a grin. “First things first, though… Are the Switches fully charged up?”

“You need to ask?” Kayla giggles, grabbing her Nintendo from its cradle and turning it on. “Up for some ARMS?”

“Seriously?” I snort as I grab my own Switch and turn it on. “After we were literally just talking about Jamie?”

“Ehh… fair enough,” Kayla giggles, before we both load up Mario Kart and while away the next hour racing around the Mushroom Kingdom hurling shells, banana skins and friendly insults at each other.

After our gaming session ends 6-5 to me, Kayla and I eat a quick takeaway dinner, before changing into smarter clothes- we can’t exactly entertain guests wearing leggings, after all- and getting some refreshments ready for tonight. Shortly after 7:30pm, our doorbell rings, and the two of us grin as we open the front door to be greeted by the smiling face of our producer Stuart, our boss Jonathan and their friends Dan and Paul.

“’Ello!” Stuart says with a chuckle. “We were told this was where the beer and videogames were, right?”

“Right through here,” Kayla says, gesturing to our living room and our bulging beer cooler. “And no, we don’t have Rock Band 4!”

“Poor you, having to play a REAL videogame for once!” Dan teases the transman as the four men each grab a beer and crash on our sofa.

“Any of you caught any of our concerts yet?” I ask.

“Nah, can’t get away from work,” Paul sighs. “We’ll be there on Friday though.”

“What about you two?” Kayla says, staring at Stuart and Jonathan with a smug grin on her face. “Given that our band IS your work…”

“It’s not my ONLY work!” Jonathan retorts between mouthfuls of beer. “Absolutely snowed under at the agency now, what with your tour and the Italian Angels launching next month.”

“Got a new baby,” Stuart says, his smile even smugger than Kayla’s.

“Then why the hell are you here playing videogames and not at home with her?” I ask, chuckling as the 27 year old man’s smile quickly vanishes.

“…She’s out with Jamie and her mother,” Stuart mumbles. “She, umm, sends her regards, by the way- Jamie, that is.”

“Given that your daughter’s eight months old and I’ve never even met Jamie’s mother, I did guess,” I retort, smirking as Stuart’s friend all laugh at him.

“Viks sends her regards too, by the way,” Jonathan says.

“Ditto Mary and the girls,” Dan says. “And before you say anything, Kristina-Leigh is three now and basically won’t shut up no matter what I try!”

“D’aww,” I say, making the boys all laugh.

“Paul of course doesn’t have any regards to pass on, being that he’s single… AGAIN,” Dan says, laughing as his best friend rolls his eyes and sighs. “Know any single women who’d be interested in a 6’ 1” fitness instructor?”

“With an awesome singing voice,” Stuart interjects.

“Shut up,” Paul mumbles, his cheeks growing increasingly red.

“So what do you say, girls?” Dan asks, framing his friend’s face before Paul angrily swats his hands away. “One 26 year old male, parts barely used…”

“BOYS,” Kayla and I simultaneously say, eliciting roars of laughter from the four young men.

“And your OTHER plan won’t work either!” Kayla snorts, glaring at our producer.

“…What plan?” Stuart protests.

“Getting your band to open for us,” Kayla says. “That’s why you mentioned Paul’s singing voice, right? Just give it up already, your band doesn’t even have a name!”

“We’ve narrowed it down to two,” Jonathan says. “The Celestials or The Clarences, both on an ‘Angel’ theme.”

“Uh-huh,” I say dismissively. “You’re still not opening for us.”

“Or playing Rock Band 4 tonight!” Dan jokes, causing everyone to laugh at the frustrated transman as our doorbell rings again. I giggle immediately as I open it and am greeted with four young women, all of whom I’ve come to know intimately over the last two and a half years.

“Hi Steph!” Nikki squeaks, giggling as we greet each other with air kisses. “Sorry I’m a bit late, had to repay yet another bit of society’s debt to me for decking Dannii…”

“Do you not mean your debt to society?” Zoe- who is standing behind Nikki and her wife- interjects.

“…Never met Dannii, did you?” Sarah retorts, eliciting giggles from all of us as I let the women into the flat. “I did invite Jacinta and Ophelia along, but they’re still down in Brighton until tomorrow. I also dropped a text to Jexy, but didn't hear back from them- hope you didn't mind me inviting them?”

“’Jexy’?” I ask. “Oh, the American girls? Yeah, the more the merrier, hehe! Pity you didn't hear back, I really wanted to meet them.”

“They’ll be around a few more days,” Sarah says with a smile. “I’ll get Nikki to set something up.” I smile, which turns into a wide grin when I see the identity of the last girl to enter the apartment.

“Hi Steph!” Natalie says in her thick northern twang, before giving me a tight hug. “Loved the concert yesterday, know that Jess and Paige did as well. They’d be here, but, you know, work…”

“S’okay,” I shrug, before giggling as the Mancunian woman playful fans herself with her left hand- and the ostentatious diamond ring on her third finger.

“Is it warm in here?” Natalie asks, before giggling as I roll my eyes.

“Yes yes yes,” I snort. “You’re not the first woman to get engaged. Or the first transgendered woman.”

“Or the first bigendered woman who was born male but prefers to live her life as a woman despite not taking hormones and who was proposed to by her now-fiancée?” Natalie says with an excited giggle.

“…It’s a big world,” I shrug.

“How you coping, anyway?” Natalie asks. “Almost a year on hormones, right?”

“Yeah, kinda,” I mumble. “Kinda feel bad in a way, I mean, you’re the only one of us now not, you know, ‘chemical’…”

“You have to do what you have to do,” Natalie says, grabbing a beer from the cooler and taking a long, deep swig from it. “What’s right for someone else isn’t going to be right for everyone else, what’s right for me isn’t necessarily going to be right for you.” Some people could stand to learn that lesson, I think to myself. “And besides, we’ve had a few new starts at the airline, one of whom isn’t ‘chemical’ yet. Young girl called Sophie, reckon you’d like her. Trying to get her along to Zoe’s Sunday morning ballet lessons but she’s not given in to the allure of a leotard and a pair of tights just yet, hehe!”

“Is it even possible to resist that ‘allure’?” I ask, earning giggles from my friend as she sits down and grabs an unattended game controller.

Minutes later, the doorbell rings again, announcing the arrival of our final carload of partygoers- all of whom have wide smiles on their face as I open the door.

“Hey there, superstar!” The tall, blonde figure of Hannah Dexter squeaks as she gives me a tight hug.

“Says the girl who won Strictly!” I laugh.

“Ehh, that was AGES ago,” Hannah giggles.

“…It was two years,” I retort. “Technically less than that, in fact.”

“Exactly,” Hannah shrugs. “In show business, that might as well be a millennium! Gotta accept that I’m 25 now, gotta stand aside for the younger superstars… Speaking of, you know our ‘junior’ Angels Abbey-Gayle and Alice, right?”

“We’ve met,” I say, exchanging giggles and hugs with the tall Jamaican girl and the red-headed northern woman.

“We brought along our guys if that’s okay, yeah?” Abbey-Gayle asks as two tall, young men approach and give me gentle, tentative hugs.

“Hi, I- I’m Reuben, Reuben Hartley,” Abbey-Gayle’s boyfriend says nervously.

“Keith’s brother, right?” I ask. “And… Laura White’s brother, right?” I ask of the tall, blond-haired man holding Alice’s hand.

“Yep, Ricky White,” the young man replies. “Laura’s talked to you before about me, then?”

“Only good things,” I shrug.

“Huh,” Ricky replies. “Doesn’t sound like her…” I giggle as Alice glares at her boyfriend and gives him a very hard-sounding elbow in his ribs.

“You behave!” Alice admonishes, pointing to our cooler. “Grab a beer, sit down and shut up!” Us two girls giggle as Ricky grins, before doing as he’s told.

“…Got him well-trained, then?” I ask, making Alice giggle as we head to the refreshments.

“He knows who wears the trousers,” Alice giggles. “It the same person who wears the skirt, hehe!”

“Wonder how that’d work with Snikki,” I muse. “I mean, with them BOTH wearing ‘the skirt’ in the relationship.”

“Presume it’s just, you know, a true partnership,” Alice shrugs. “I mean, they clearly adore each other. They’re only twenty and they’re already married, for starters!”

“Yeah, true,” I half-chuckle, half-sigh.

“…Getting a bit sick of being single?” Alice asks.

“Female intuition?” I ask.

“Most BOYS would notice that,” Alice laughs. “Then again, most BOYS think that every woman in the world is gagging for them, heh.”

“Proving that 99% of boys suck,” I say, earning a cheer from Alice.

“You said it, sister!” The northern woman laughs. “Though that does leave the 1% that doesn’t suck… How about Mr. Kennedy there, for starters?”

“Who, Paul?” I ask, speaking quietly so that the boys don’t hear. “…I guess, I mean, he’s okay looking…”

“He’s CUTE,” Alice says. “He’s tall, he’s fit- VERY fit, he’s a fitness instructor for god’s sake- he’s sensitive, and he just spent the last umpteen months dating a transgendered girl so you’ll have no problem there. Not that you would with any of the boys, to be fair to them, they’ve all got their heads screwed on properly when it comes to THAT.”

“Especially Kurt, my ex,” I sigh.

“Yeah, I heard that you two were dating before Kelly got her hands on him,” Alice says sympathetically. “If you want to get your hands on Paul, you might also want to act quick, you know?” I follow Alice’s gaze to the sofa where Paul is sat to discover that he’s been joined by Hannah, who is cuddling up VERY close to him.

“…Thought they didn’t want to be, you know, ‘paired spares’?” I ask.

“They also don’t want to be single their whole lives,” Alice says. “Think they’ve got one of those pacts, you know? ‘If we’re still single when we’re thirty’, that sort of thing. Now he’s 26, she’s 25 and the only original Angel who isn’t either married or engaged with a kid.”

“Great,” I chuckle. “Makes me and Kayla the only single people in this room, heh.”

“…Didn’t realise you were interested in her!” Alice teases, making me roll my eyes. How could she so precisely hit THAT pressure point, for god’s sake?

“Shut up,” I mumble.

“Ah,” Alice giggles. “So what would your couples name be, hmm? Kephanie? Stayla?”

“Stayla!” Sarah interjects, making me cringe. “Oh get over yourself, how long have you called us ‘Snikki’?”

“Oh- be quiet,” Kayla mumbles, giving Sarah a playful (but still firm-looking) shove as her cheeks start to redden. “We’re not even a proper couple…”

“So you’re an improper couple?” Alice teases as our ‘argument’ starts to attract additional unwanted attention.

“Apart from me and Paul, you ARE the only single ones here,” Hannah says. “And you already live together…”

“Oh Stayla, you’ve got me on my knees…” Stuart sings, laughing as I go over and punch him in the ribs.

"Hardly our fault there are more girls than BOYS here tonight!" I growl, which only makes Stuart's laughter even louder.

“And is this any way to treat your hosts?” Kayla pouts. “Just for that, I’m picking the next game. It’s going to be ARMS. And I am going to kick seven shades of shit out of ALL of your asses!” Kayla’s confrontational attitude earns an ‘ooh’ from the rest of the partygoers, but it thankfully brings an end to the ‘Stayla’ argument as we spend the next hour drinking, laughing and beating up our electronic avatars.

The party lasts until just after 11pm, when everyone heads home, leaving me and Kayla alone in our (very messy!) apartment.

“Ugh,” I moan as I collapse on the sofa, surrounded by empty beer cans, takeaway containers and Pringles tubes. “I am SO not cleaning this up tonight.”

“Well don’t look at me,” Kayla snorts. “You’re the taller, stronger half of ‘Stayla’, aren’t you?”

“Oh- shut up,” I snort, making Kayla laugh as I hurl a Pringle at her. “’Staler’ is something everyone working in entertainment wants to be called…”

“Ah, they’re just having a bit of fun,” Kayla chuckles. “Shows we really are part of the ‘family’, heh.”

“I guess,” I shrug. “Just hope they don’t want to wait too long for, like, nieces and nephews, heh.”

“I only just turned twenty,” Kayla snorts. “Trust me, they’d better not hold their breath! Just thank god my parents aren’t in the ‘must have grandkids’ stage yet.”

“Thank god my parents already have a grandkid, heh,” I chuckle. “Let’s- let’s just go to bed and worry about this tomorrow.”

“Now THAT’s a plan I can get behind,” Kayla grins. “Shotgun bathroom!”

“Dammit!” I moan as the giggling girl disappears into our bathroom. “Then I call dibs on Paul Kennedy!”

“Dammit!” Kayla yells from inside the bathroom as I let out a loud, smug laugh. “Also- no Instagram photos until the flat’s tidied up tomorrow. Don’t want our fans seeing the filth we live in!”

“Don’t want Joshua seeing it!” I laugh. “He might be fooled into thinking that we’re two young women in our early twenties, heh.”

“First thing tomorrow, we look on the internet for a cleaner,” Kayla giggles before allowing me into the bathroom to wash away the day.

When I emerge from the bathroom, my friend is already in her own bed, obviously either asleep or about to fall asleep, and with a loud sigh, I head into my own room and climb into bed, quickly falling into a deep, dreamless slumber.

I wince as my phone’s alarm wakes me the following morning- I hadn’t drank that much during the party, but it was enough to make me ‘wobbly’, which is always enough to make me ’regretful’ the following morning. Despite Kayla’s dislike of mornings, when I emerge from my room I’m unsurprised to find that she’s already awake and in the bathroom- as a teetotaller, she doesn’t have the ‘problems’ that the rest of us have.

“Good morning, sunshine!” Kayla says with a giggle as she emerges from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her hair and another wrapped around her narrow torso.

“Stop rubbing it in,” I snort. “I’m not even THAT hungover.”

“Yeah, you didn’t drink THAT much,” Kayla says as I strip off my nightie and jump underneath the shower. “Snikki will be in a LOT of pain this morning though, hehe!”

“Ah, they will never, ever learn,” I giggle. “Reckon we should give them a wakeup call?”

“Way ahead of you,” Kayla laughs. “Here’s how it went down- literally. Ring ring! Groan. Thud. Sound of a phone being picked up off of carpet. ‘Fuck off Stayla’. Click.”

“Ugh, that ‘Stayla’ thing’s gonna stick, isn’t it?” I moan.

“Meh,” Kayla shrugs. “Like I said, it’s just a bit of fun. Harmless really, isn’t it?”

“…I guess,” I mumble. It certainly wouldn’t be harmless if it were real, I think to myself.

I try to put all ‘Stayla’ thoughts- and thoughts of any other potential partners- out of my head as I dry my body and my hair, before picking out my outfit for the day. As we’re meeting with Joshua today, we have to keep up appearances, which means a smart skirt suit, so after applying my full face of make-up and pulling on a sexy lace bra, thong and a pair of light-coloured tights, I reach into my wardrobe for a very sexy, very form-fitting short red pencil skirt with matching jacket and high-heeled stiletto pumps. I close my eyes as I zip myself into the skirt, doing my best to savour every sensation the clingy garment provides. The more feminine my body becomes, the better my clothes fit, and the more I love every aspect of being girlish both inside and out.

Naturally, my smart look gets a wolf whistle of approval from Kayla as I step out of my bedroom and do a twirl for her, a gesture I reciprocate as my BFF does a twirl in her baby pink skirt suit with its (naturally) longer than knee length pencil skirt.

“Very smart, very grown up!” I say, laughing as Kayla rolls her eyes.

“Whatever,” Kayla chuckles. “Come on, don’t want to keep our taxi waiting. Or the inevitable paparazzi, heh. And before you ask, no we are NOT going out there holding hands!”

“I never said anything,” I protest as we head downstairs, fight our way through the gaggle of photographers and reporters that Kayla predicted and climb into our waiting taxi, which whisks us away toward the head office of Heavenly Talent. There, we meet up with our two other bandmates, who are, of course, as smartly dressed as the two of us.

“Hi girls!” Adeola giggles, greeting me and Kayla with a hug each. “Looked like a great party last night!”

“Yep!” I giggle.

“And where, pray tell, were the two of you?” Kayla pouts, tapping her stiletto-shod foot.

“Had plans with the boys,” Becca shrugs. “Hadn’t seen Riley in AGES, you know?”

“Ditto Marco,” Adeola says. “Yeah, yeah, I know, ‘sisters before misters’.”

“They’re not allowed to claim ‘sisters before misters’ when they had the ARSEHOLE-IN-CHIEF at their party!” Becca says with a smug grin, startling everyone in the reception area- in particular, her brother, who had just stepped out of the studio area.

“Bite me,” Stuart retorts, earning giggles from all four of us.

“In fact, I counted six guys at your party last night, didn’t I?” Adeola teases.

“Five of whom are married, engaged or in a long-term relationship,” I retort. “’Angel parties’ aren’t really, you know, known for their drunken debauchery, are they?”

“Doesn’t make them any less fun,” Becca says with a smile. “If monogamy doesn’t suit you, you’re obviously not doing it right.”

"Or you're not doing it with the right person," Adeola says with a nod.

"Or you're not doing it at all," I sigh, which earns sympathetic sighs and hugs from all three of my bandmates.

"Dunno why I'm hugging you, given that you just called dibs on Paul Kennedy!" Kayla snorts.

"Ooh!" Adeola teases, making me blush. "You like a bit of blonde beefcake, do you?"

"...Maybe," I mumble.

"Well if you do, get in quick," Becca advises. "Heard that Hannah might be lining him up for himself."

"My heavenly singers!" A familiar deep, booming voice calls from the top of the stairs, interrupting me before I can retort. "Come, come! We have much to talk about!"

"Which means that this conversation we're having now?" I say to my bandmates. "Over."

"Yes, ma'am!" Becca giggles as we slowly make our way up the stairs in our high-heeled shoes.

Naturally, the meeting is as exciting as meetings about things like attendance figures, crowd engagement and merchandise plugging tend to be, meaning that I leave the office ninety minutes later feeling like I'm about to fall asleep standing up. As I descend the stairs, though, I see a sight that causes me to be immediately alert again- because in the past, it would've put me straight on the defensive. Today, however, it's a sight I'm very happy to see.

"Hey gorgeous!" Stuart says as he lifts his infant daughter out of the stroller being pushed by his wife. "And also, hey, gorgeous, hehe!" I bristle slightly as Stuart gives Jamie a long kiss on her lips- even though I got over my crush on him a long time ago, it still makes me feel funny every time I see him kiss another woman. "You have a good time with your grandma?"

"She was an absolute angel, pun intended!" Jamie giggles. "Even if her father WAS playing videogames all night..."

"Blame those two," Stuart nods towards myself and Kayla as we head toward the happy family.

"It's our fault you played videogames at our house instead of playing them at your own house?" Kayla retorts.

"Oh, snap!" I giggle, making my former nemesis giggle as her husband blushes furiously.

"...Still blaming you two," Stuart snorts. "Come on, Olivia, let's get you something yummy to eat, eh?" I grin as Stuart takes his daughter into one of the side rooms, leaving me and Kayla alone with his wife.

"...She is REALLY cute," I say, earning a smile from the proud mother.

"The absolute cutest," Jamie says. "You- you two been, umm, talking about the tour?"

"More 'listening' than 'talking'," Kayla says. "When I've been able to keep my eyes open, heh. About to head home now."

"Uh-huh," Jamie nods. "I'm, umm, I'm here 'cause Nikki called, said she wanted to see me at the office..."

"She's conscious again, then?" I ask, making Jamie giggle.

"She didn't seem that way when I called her earlier this morning," Kayla says, eliciting a loud laugh from the blonde transwoman.

"Ah, she'll grow up eventually," Jamie giggles. "Impressive she can get THAT drunk just playing videogames though, heh."

"I, umm," Kayla mumbles, briefly locking eyes with me as the conversation pauses yet again. "I'm, umm, going to get a drink..." Jamie's frown at being left alone with me speaks volumes, but I don't let that deter me- this is something I NEED to do, after all.

"Can- can we, you know," I mumble, "go and find somewhere private to, maybe, talk?"

"Sure," Jamie mumbles, leading me to an unoccupied office, where we both sit down, elegantly crossing one nylon-covered leg over the other.

"Jamie," I say.

"Steph-" Jamie interrupts, before giggling. "No, you wanted to talk, you go first."

"No, it's okay," I say, which only serves to make us both sigh, giggle and roll our eyes.

"No, seriously," Jamie says firmly. "Seriously, Steph. There must be a reason you wanted to talk to me in private."

"...I hate that we even NEED to talk in private," I say. "I hate that we got into a fight last year, that everyone thinks we should be friends and yet we're not... I hate everything about, you know, this animosity between us."

"Yeah, I know how you feel," Jamie sighs. "And I hold my hands up, I've got to take some of the blame for that. Okay, okay, most if not all."

"You know I'd never had a fight with anyone before?" I ask. "As 'Steve' or 'Stephanie'."

"Yeah..." Jamie grimaces. "Can't QUITE claim the same..."

"Ah, your- when you, umm, fell out with Charlotte?" I whisper. "What was that, four years ago?"

"Over four years ago," Jamie laughs. "Before the Angels were even a thing. Hell, I don't think I'd even met Viks at that point. Part of me thought I'd never ever speak to Charlotte again."

"But now you're as close as sisters?" I ask.

"Closer," Jamie chuckles. "Okay, helps that neither of us ever had any siblings, but, you know..."

"Tell me about it," I chuckle. "Can't choose your siblings."

"But you CAN choose who you want to be friends with," Jamie whispers with a genuine smile.

"I know," I sigh. "And I know you've been trying, what with the meetings with Beverly and all that, but still there- there's a part of me that thinks- that thinks that you'll NEVER be able to trust me. Or that you'll never see me as a 'real' transwoman because of how I was, at the start of my transition and all that..."

"Trust is earned," Jamie says. "And- and you HAVE earned it, Steph. I was lucky at first, I could transition away from the public eye, I was always 'this girl hanging around with Charlotte', nobody cared who I was until I was outed before I was ready."

"But you handled things WAY better than I would've when you were," I say.

"I'd been transitioning for over two years AND I'd had my tits done," Jamie snorts. "And I lived with an expert at dealing with the media. You didn't quite have that support. And you should've, because it should've been me."

"Don't blame yourself," I say. "Maybe I just didn't meet up to expectations."

"Maybe I shouldn't have had expectations in the first place," Jamie sighs. "God knows I'm learning that every day since Olivia came into my life. I keep asking myself things like 'what if Olivia doesn't like dance?' or 'what if Olivia never makes any friends?'. Or worst of all, 'what if Olivia never loves me?'." I bite my lips as Jamie wipes a lone tear from the corner of her eye.

"...And do you have any answers for those questions?" I ask.

"Just one," Jamie says. "And that's that I'll love her no matter what choices she makes. Like a mother should. Or, say, a big sister should. Or a so-called mentor should..."

"It's never too late to start," I whisper.

"And it's never too late to start telling the truth," Jamie sighs. "And you have. And that's all I could ask of you. And as for 'being a real transwoman'..."

"I've taken the oestrogen today, I promise," I chuckle.

"Oh I don't even doubt you for a second there," Jamie says, before letting out another, longer sigh. "...Can I tell you a secret? Something only a few people know?"

"Umm, sure," I say.

"I started transitioning in April 2011, as you know," Jamie says. "Prior to March 2011, I- I'd never even thought about wearing women's clothing before."

"You- you did- what?" I ask, barely able to comprehend the information I'd just heard.

"Honestly," Jamie sighs. "I- well, what happened was... Charlotte noted how 'James' looked a little like her, we- we kinda met up, she thought it'd be a bit of fun, and six years later, here I am, wife, mother and proud owner of a vagina for several years now."

"W- WOW," I say, trying to process the information.

Jamie-Lee Burke, the same woman who made my life miserable for months about my transition, wouldn't have transitioned herself if not for a chance encounter, and she has the gall to accuse ME of being deceitful? I feel my anger start to boil within me as I remember all the accusations she made, all the judgemental stares I received from her for so long... There's only one appropriate response to a revelation like this.

"...Okay," I shrug, forcing a (hopefully) genuine-looking smile on my face.

"Thanks," Jamie laughs, breathing a sigh of relief. "God, dunno why I was so nervous, like I was expecting another fight or something, heh."

"Life's too short to hold a grudge," I say.

"And it's too short to pass up opportunities that are literally dropped in your lap," Jamie says with a smile. "Even if you end up with a lap that looks a LOT different, hehe!"

"So... You're saying 'always take opportunities'?" I ask.

"You always regret the things you DIDN'T do," Jamie says with a smile. "Though I think you already know that one, heh!"

"Kinda, yeah!" I giggle, before standing up, straightening my skirt and letting out a long sigh. "Thanks for the chat, Jamie. I guess we'll probably never be close friends-"

"Never say never," Jamie says, standing up and giving me a gentle hug. "You can never have too many friends. EVER."

"Where have I heard that before?" I retort, giggling as Jamie playfully sticks her tongue out at me.

The two of us are still giggling as we emerge back into the reception area where Kayla and Stuart (and, obviously, Olivia) are waiting for us, along with a couple of young women I recognise and a couple I don't recognise.

"Ah, good morning, sunshine!" I say to Nikki, who is clearly very miserable and hungover behind her oversized designer sunglasses.

"Not so loud, please," Nikki moans, before forcing a smile back onto her face. "Steph, Jamie, got a couple of friends I'd like to introduce you to. This is Alexa Quinn and Jenny Thompson, and they've come-"

"Ah, yes!" I interrupt, immediately recognising the names- and from more than one place. "Our fans from America! I was hoping I'd get the chance to meet you!"

"Oh my god, thank you!" Alexa says as Jamie and I exchange hugs with her and her partner. "Jenny and I are such huge fans of yours!"

"Thanks!" I say, giggling in the practised manner I've adopted when speaking to fans. "I'm kinda a huge fan of yours too- well, that video you tweeted at me in March, anyway!"

"Oh my god, you remember that?" Jenny asks, clearly mortified by the memory- and given how drunk she (and Alexa, and Nikki and Sarah) appeared to be in the video in the question, her mortification is more than justified!

"Hard to forget it," I giggle. "Especially as I play it every time Mrs. Phillips-Thomas- EITHER Mrs. Phillips-Thomas gets too big for their boots, hehe!"

"I really wish I hadn't shown you how to do that," Sarah- clearly as hungover her wife- snorts as our new friends giggle nervously.

"Too late for that now," I laugh. "I really can't believe you came all the way from America to see us, though! I didn't think anybody had heard of us over there!"

"We found you on YouTube a few months ago," Alexa explains. "And, well- umm..."

"What Lex is trying to say is that you've been a big inspiration to her," Jenny says, her teasing causing her partner's cheeks to redden.

"...Because you're transgender, and I'm transgender too," Alexa mumbles.

"Oh my god, I'd have had no idea!" I squeak, causing Alexa to giggle happily. This is, of course, a lie- Nikki had explained the situation to me when she returned from her holiday to America- but sometimes a little white lie can make people happy, not angry.

"So you're kinda of like an 'American Snikki'?" Kayla asks, making me giggle as both halves of Snikki cringe at the use of their nickname."

"Or they're the 'British Jexy'!" Jenny teases.

"We can't be, we're both brunette and one of you is blonde," Sarah quickly retorts. "Which would technically make you 'American Stayla'!" Kayla and I both roll our eyes at Sarah's retort, even though it causes our guests' jaws to drop.

"Are- are you two-" Alexa asks, pointing at myself and Kayla.

"What- what, us?" Kayla snorts. "Umm... Think 'Snikki' might have been pulling your leg there!" Ugh, I think to myself. Give a 'yes' or a 'no' already...

"...Shall we go somewhere else, maybe get a coffee or some lunch?" I ask.

"Sounds perfect," Alexa says, grinning uncontrollably as the six of us, accompanied by Jamie, Stuart and Olivia, head out of the office and toward a nearby posh coffee shop.

"So," Nikki teases our American guests, "has it been worth all the jet lag?"

"Are you kidding?" Jenny asks. "If we hadn't come over, we'd have regretted it for the rest of our lives!"

"Well, like I was just saying," Jamie says with a smile, "you only ever regret the things you DIDN'T do!"

The following evening, I have a confident smile on my heavily made-up face, a tight red fringed leotard on my body and a pair of fishnet tights and high-heeled shoes on my feet as I strut out onstage alongside my similarly-dressed bandmates.

"Hello London!" Becca yells to the over ten thousand screaming fans packed into Wembley Arena. The four of us take our positions on stage and exchange a smile with each other as we take our positions, ready for our first song of the night.

"Ooh, baby do you know what that's worth?" The four of us sing in perfect harmony. "Ooh, Heaven is a place on Earth! They say in Heaven, love comes first, we'll make Heaven a place on Earth! Ooh, Heaven is a place on Earth!"

Three and a half hours later, with the concert, a meet and greet session and a quick debrief under our belts, Kayla and I return home, secure in the knowledge that all of our fans went home happy, our bank balances have swelled considerably and we have the next week and a half off work.

"I will NEVER get tired of that," Kayla giggles. "Walking out on stage, performing for thousands..."

"I know what you mean," I sigh as I slip off the knee-high boots I changed into for the meet and greet and crash heavily onto our sofa. "It never gets old, you know? I thought after a while, something like that would become commonplace..."

"What, like wearing a pair of sexy knee-high boots?" Kayla teases.

"'Commonplace' doesn't mean 'boring'," I retort.

"I know, I know," Kayla says, sitting down next to me and tucking her legs underneath her bottom. "And I know this won't last forever. Kinda why I started when I was seventeen, heh!"

"Tick everything on your bucket list off before you hit thirty?" I ask.

"Meh, then I'll just start another one," Kayla says. "A lot of things left in the world I haven't done. And like Jamie says, you only ever regret the things you didn't do."

"Very true," I say, before taking a deep breath. You only regret the things you didn't do. The things you DIDN'T do...

Almost in slow-motion, I find myself leaning forward, taking Kayla by surprise as I close my eyes and gently press my lips into hers. When she doesn't pull back or cry out in surprise, I take that as a sign to continue the kiss, though when I open my eyes, they meet those of my friend's, who has a look of utter shock on her face. I slowly break the kiss and lean back, my heart beating faster as Kayla's jaw drops.

"..K- Kayla?" I tentatively ask.

"St- Steph?" Kayla whispers, her eyes not blinking and her body frozen in shock.

TO BE CONTINUED

"Umm..." I mumble, not breaking eye contact with my friend for one moment.

“Steph?” Kayla repeats, obviously stunned by my unexpected action.

“I, umm,” I mumble as panic starts to grip my body. “I’m, umm, I’m going to, uh, head out for a bit, umm… I’m going to my parents’ house, yeah, I’m, umm, going to see my parents…”

“St- Steph, wait!” Kayla urges, staring in disbelief as I grab my coat and my handbag, slip my feet into a pair of flats and head out the front door, not looking back for a second.

As I walk down the streets of London, I feel a sense of panic I haven’t felt in ages… And a presence at the back of my mind I desperately try to ignore, to ‘dehumanise’ but not allowing it- not him, IT- a voice. So much for ‘you only regret the things you don’t do’- I may well have just screwed up both the best friendship I’ve ever had and the best job I’ve ever had- not to mention my entire life.

What was I thinking? I mean, sure, Kayla was giving me ‘signals’- but were they REALLY signals? Was she just being friendly, over-familiar? She’s an only child, did she just want a sister, like Jamie and Charlotte? Did she want the best friend she never had at school? Or maybe, just maybe, did she want the lover she’s struggled so hard to find, the person she could have a deep, intimate relationship with, as she certainly hasn’t found that with any of the men she dated so far?

…But would that mean that Kayla sees me as a man? She’s never shown any interest in any other women before, whereas I’ve always been (among my friends, at least) open about the possibility of dating all genders, even if I do tend toward men more than women. But if Kayla knew this, why would she confuse me by constantly flirting with me?

In my confused state, I find myself walking toward the nearest tube station as the one instinct I’d hoped to have shaken off starts to take hold. I know I shouldn’t run away, but a couple of days on my own, to clear my head- it can’t hurt, right? Just go to a hotel somewhere, clear my head, after all, I DO have the next week and a half free from any obligations…

My thoughts are suddenly interrupted by the sound of a car horn beeping behind me, which causes me to yelp with surprise and turn around to see the unexpected sight of my father sat in his car, gesturing for me to go over to him.

“What- what are you doing here?” I ask the middle-aged man.

“Kayla called, explained you said you were planning to come over, so I figured I’d come and pick you up,” dad says. “So get in.”

“Why- then why didn’t you go to the flat?” I ask as I resignedly slide onto the passenger seat and fasten my seatbelt.

“…Because from the tone of her voice, I know that you WEREN’T heading to our place,” dad sighs. “…What happened, Steph?”

“Me screwing everything up,” I moan. “As usual.”

“You’ve literally just sung in front of over ten thousand people,” dad retorts. “You should be on the kind of high I can only dream of. What on Earth could have happened to make you want to run away again?”

“I wasn’t going to run away,” I retort. “…Okay, maybe, but only for a few days!”

“Steph…” Dad sighs.

“Okay, okay,” I moan, before letting out a long, pained sigh. “I- I kinda- kinda, umm, kissed Kayla...”

“You- you did what!?” Dad asks, making me squirm and sink into seat.

“Yeah…” I grimace. “It was, you know, a kinda spur of the moment thing…”

“I- I didn’t even realise you liked Kayla,” dad says. “Didn’t even realise you liked GIRLS.”

“I never said I didn’t,” I shrug. “And you actually like the idea of me being ‘with’ a man?”

“No more than I like the idea of Tom and Danny being ‘with’ their partners,” dad says. “As long as you’re with someone who makes you happy, gender is- well, I won’t say ‘unimportant’, as it’s important to you, but-“

“I get what you mean,” I sigh. “But yeah, I’ve been having, you know, feelings about Kayla, and she’s been dropping hints…”

“Then why were you in the middle of doing a runner after kissing her?” Dad asks.

“Because she reacted like I’d just run over her cat,” I snort, making dad chuckle. “It’s not funny, dad! Might have just screwed up everything, I can hardly live with her now that I’ve done this, can I? Can hardly work with her either…”

“Don’t be like that,” dad says. “There’s no problem that can’t be worked out. And NOT by running away! Though looking back on it, I guess there WERE hints.”

“Am I that obvious?” I say.

“When you first started with the band, you said you’d met a girl who was taking up all your free time,” dad says.

“Yeah, and I said her name was Kayla,” I sigh.

“…Actually, you said her name was Becca,” dad says, making me frown in confusion. “Then a few weeks later, suddenly ‘Becca’ became ‘Kayla’.”

“Oh- oh god, I did, didn’t I?” I moan.

“Didn’t think anything of it at first,” dad shrugs. “When your brothers were nineteen they went through what seemed like a new girl every week, we had no idea to suspect that you were any different. But, of course, you WERE different, and the whole ‘Becca/Kayla’ thing got pushed to the back of my mind… But looking at it now, it does kind of make sense. Have- have you always had feelings for Kayla?”

“…I’m not going to discuss my love life with my dad,” I pout, earning a loud laugh from the middle-aged man.

“Fair enough,” dad says. “But you ARE going to need to discuss it with someone.”

“I know, I know,” I sigh. “But I don’t think I can face Kayla, not yet anyway.”

“I was thinking more your counsellor,” dad says.

“She doesn’t work weekends,” I say.

“Then make an appointment with her for Monday,” dad retorts, sighing as I roll my eyes. “In the meantime, you’re stuck with us.”

“Yay,” I sarcastically retort.

“And if you really think you can’t face Kayla again, remember this-“ dad says. “She called us about you after you bolted. She. Called. Us. Regardless of how strong your feelings are, she obviously cares about you a lot, even if it is just as a friend.”

“Or a colleague,” I say.

“Would a colleague have personally travelled to where you were sighted the last time you did a runner?” Dad asks, reminding me of the fact that last time I vanished from home, it was indeed Kayla who brought me back.

This thought dominates my mind as we arrive back at my parents’ home and I head straight up to my bedroom, crashing heavily on the bed. Kayla didn’t flat-out reject me, or react with disgust- but at the same time, she didn’t exactly appear happy about the situation either, and she certainly didn’t do anything to lead me on, either. Well, not AFTER I kissed her, anyway…

Before I get ready for bed, I go to check my phone, only to find that I’ve left it back at my- well, mine and Kayla’s flat. The same goes for my laptop and my iPad too, meaning I have no way to check my messages or my Facebook account (I don’t have my password memorised so I can’t log in on either of my parents’ computers). Naturally, this results in a restless night as I continually toss and turn, panicking about what my friend’s reaction might have been.

My anxiety is so bad, in fact, that I eventually get up just after half past six in the morning- startling the hell out of both of my parents.

“Stephanie, you do know it’s half past six in the MORNING, right?” Mum teases as I heavily slump into one of the kitchen chairs. “Normally, after a concert, you’re not up until mid-afternoon…”

“Ugh,” I spit. “You- did dad, umm, tell you about-“

“Yes,” mum interrupts, her voice immediately softening. “Steph… If it’s not one thing, it’s the other, isn’t it?”

“Sorry,” I mumble, blinking back tears as mum sits down next to me and gives me a tight hug.

“Don’t be sorry, don’t you dare be sorry!” Mum sighs. “All the stress you’ve had in your life, just once I’d hoped things would go smooth for you.”

“Eh, it’s my fault this time, though,” I moan. “Things were going so well…”

“Kayla must surely have dropped some hints for you to kiss her though, right?” Mum asks.

“Oh- barrels of hints,” I snort. “Maybe they just didn’t mean what I thought they mean. I just- I just wish I knew for sure what she was thinking, what she felt, what she wanted, even.”

“And yet you ran away before asking her,” mum says, making my cheeks redden.

“…Sorry,” I mumble again, earning another hug from my mother. “Glad my fans can’t see me now, heh. God knows what they’d think!”

“Well for what it’s worth,” mum says, “I’m your BIGGEST fan, and I still think you’re amazing!”

“You’re meant to, you’re my mum,” I retort.

“…I prefer that mouth when it’s singing, and NOT mouthing off!” Mum chastises, making me giggle. “Good to see you’re smiling again. But you NEED to talk to Kayla. Did she at least text you after you left the flat?”

“I, umm, I left my phone at the flat…” I mumble, earning a tired sigh from my mother.

“I’ll call work,” mum eventually says. “Try and switch onto a later shift. We’ll head round there this morning, grab your stuff, then you can have a good, long talk with Kayla and sort these things out!”

“Why would I need to grab my stuff if I’m going back to the flat anyway?” I ask.

“Because after what you nearly did last night,” mum replies, “there is no way I’m letting you out of my sight again! You can stay here for the next few nights. At home. Where you BELONG.”

“I’m 21,” I retort. “I’m an independent woman. A RICH, independent woman.”

“That doesn’t make you any less my baby,” mum replies. “No matter how rich or famous you are, you’ll always be my priority.”

“…Thanks,” I sniffle, giggling as mum gives me one last hug before pouring me a hot cup of coffee, which thankfully wakes me up a little following my sleepless night.

After a further cup of coffee and a filling breakfast of eggs and toast, I head up to my bedroom, where I can’t help but sigh. Three years ago, I used to fantasise about what it’d be like, the first time I brought a girl home and woke up in bed with her. Then again, I also used to fantasise a lot more about what it’d be like to wake up in that bed AS a girl, and that dream came true in a way I never expected. Who’s to say my other dreams can’t come true either? Well, I suppose Kayla herself could prevent, or at least delay, one of the dreams.

A comment from mum in the car en route to mine and Kayla’s flat, however, reminds me that that dream in particular may take on a very different ‘shape’ to what I was expecting.

“So, then,” mum says quietly. “You- you’re bisexual, then?”

“…Mum?” I ask. If I was uncomfortable discussing my love life with dad, this will inevitably end up being a hundred times worse…

“You went out with that nice Kurt boy for several months,” mum reminds me. “You’ve been on dates with other men, but you also have feelings for Kayla?”

“Well- I guess,” I shrug. “I mean, yes, I fancied Kurt a LOT, and I’ve fancied other, umm, men before… Guess I am bisexual, I dunno. With the whole ‘transgender’ thing, I’ve got enough labels and categories in my life already, heh.”

“Well, as long as you’re happy, that’s the important thing,” mum says.

“Assuming I actually know what’ll make me happy,” I chuckle. “God… Dunno why I’m so nervous about this…”

“In a way, it IS understandable, you being nervous,” mum says. “If you didn’t have genuine feelings for Kayla, then you wouldn’t be.”

“Well- yeah, I guess,” I sigh. “It’s her feelings toward me that I’m most nervous about…”

A short while later, our car pulls up outside my posh flat, and from reflex, I go to get my keys out, only to pause. If I barge into the flat like nothing happened, it might only serve to make things worse. Then again, it’s hard to see how it could be worse than me running in the opposite direction last night…

After a long, anxious pause, I knock on the front door of the flat, but after a minute’s wait, no answer comes from inside.

“Kayla’s not really a ‘morning person’,” I whisper to mum as I knock on the door again.

“Could- could she be out?” Mum asks.

“As this time of the morning?” I ask. “I doubt it…” Hesitantly, I reach for my key and unlock the front door, unsurprised to find that everything within the flat is switched off. “Kayla? You awake? You here?” I gently knock on my friend’s bedroom door, only to discover that it’s slightly ajar- and a quick peek around the door reveals that Kayla’s bed has been slept in, but isn’t occupied anymore.

“Steph,” mum called from the flat’s kitchen area.

“Just a sec,” I say, heading across the short hallway to my bedroom, where I pick up my phone from where I left it last night. Unsurprisingly, there are two missed calls on it from Kayla and one voicemail. I’m hoping that the reason she didn’t call more is that she must’ve heard my ringtone coming from my room, but there’s a part of me that still fears that she’s giving me the cold shoulder after walking out last night- the fact that she’s not here this morning kinda supports that idea. With trembling fingers, I tap the button to play Kayla’s message.

“Steph, wherever you are, please call me back when you get this message,” Kayla says, her voice a mixture of anger and tiredness. I blink twice as the message ends- is that it? No in-depth discussion or admission of feelings, either positive or negative? Then again, it’s not the sort of thing you’d put in a voicemail. I get ready to phone Kayla back, but pause before pressing ‘call’- it’s not the sort of thing that’s best done over the phone, either- we NEED to talk face-to-face. Unfortunately, Kayla’s face is currently absent, along with the rest of her…

“Finally!” Mum sighs as I head through to the kitchen, where she’s stood with a slip of paper in her hand. “It’s from Kayla. You should read it.” I let out a tired sigh, before taking the note from mum and silently reading it.

‘Steph,’ the note reads. ‘After what happened last night I need some time to myself to think. I’ve headed back to my parents’ for a bit. I’ll talk to you soon- assuming you haven’t run off again and are actually reading this note.’ I let out a long, frustrated sigh, not just at Kayla’s belief that I’ll do another runner, but at the fact that she isn’t even HINTING at how she felt about the kiss. Then again, a handwritten note would be just as bad as a voicemail in that regard…

“Are you- do you want to go to Southampton?” Mum asks.

“No point,” I groan. “because Kayla definitely wouldn’t have wanted to go either, she was only saying last week how London feels more like a ‘real’ home to her than Southampton, so for her to actually go back there, it- ugh, I dunno WHAT to think…”

“Wasn’t it her birthday party tonight, too?” Mum asks. “At your friend Charlotte’s house?”

“Nah, Kayla asked them not to bother this year,” I say. “And it’s Halloween on Tuesday anyway, that- ugh, that’ll be fun if Kayla’s not back by then. Heh, it’ll probably be ‘fun’ if she IS back by then.”

“Well either way, you need to talk to SOMEONE,” mum sighs. “And you’re definitely not staying here by yourself to mope! Can you talk to either of your other bandmates?”

“About THIS?” I snort. “Hardly. Can’t talk to Jamie, either, I mean, we’re getting on better now, but- can you even imagine what this would be like if everyone found out? If our fans found out? Or worst of all, if Joshua found out?”

“He’s very liberal-minded though, isn’t he?” Mum asks.

“Oh, extremely liberal-minded,” I say. “Especially as the country he comes from still imprisons people for being gay. He’d have no problem with me dating A girl, but THIS girl…”

“What about your friend Nikki?” Mum asks. “Isn’t she married to another woman?”

“She is,” I say, “but she’d feel obliged to tell Jamie or Joshua too.”

“Someone who doesn’t work for the agency, then,” mum says, clearly getting more and more frustrated by my angst.

“…I could try to talk to Natalie,” I shrug.

“Perfect,” mum says. “Going to call her?”

“I’ll get her on Facebook,” I say, sitting down on my sofa and grabbing my iPad. “I know she works awkward hours sometimes so need to make sure she’s up…”

“Good, you can do that at home,” mum says.

“…I AM at home,” I retort, gesturing to my living room.

“At your REAL home,” mum insists. “Grab your phone, your iPad and some clothes, and come on. We’re not letting you out of our sight until this is sorted and you’re not in any mood to run off again!”

“…Yes, mum,” I sigh, grabbing a small bag and filling it with clothes before following my mother back to her home, where I collapse heavily on the sofa. I check my iPad, only to find that my friend from Manchester isn’t logged into Facebook, leaving me frustrated and without anyone to talk to. Very few people are online, in fact, which is especially surprising for a Saturday morning- what’s unsurprising, though, is that Kayla is one of those who’s currently incommunicado. With no better options, I fire off a message to Natalie to contact me back when she’s available, before taking my Nintendo 3DS out of my bag and playing a few levels of Metroid, but even this doesn’t settle my nerves, as my usual gaming partner is, obviously, nowhere to be seen.

It’s a little after 1pm when Natalie finally messages me back, and the message notification from my iPad actually causes me to jump slightly- especially as, in my excitement, I briefly believe the message to be from Kayla. It’s almost disappointing when I read that the message is from my Mancunian friend instead- though it is a relief to finally be talking to SOMEONE.

‘Now then, Steph,’ Natalie’s message reads. ‘You were up early after last night! Everything okay, I hope?’

‘Not great,’ I type with a sigh. ‘Really could use someone to talk to right now.’

‘Always happy to lend an ear,’ Natalie replies. ‘What’s wrong with Kayla though? She still in bed? Heard she was a bit allergic to mornings.’

‘It’s Kayla that I need to talk about,’ I type, letting out a long sigh. ‘Can you keep a secret?’

‘Kept me and Zoe a secret for months while we were living with her sister,’ Natalie replies, making me smile.

‘That’s kinda what I was hoping you’d say,’ I type, before taking a deep breath. I type, delete and retype the next part of my message countless times before finally sending it. ‘Kayla and I kinda kissed last night.’

‘OMG,’ Natalie replied. ‘Didn’t realise you two had a thing for each other! And you want to keep this secret?’

‘I may have misled you there,’ I type, letting out a long groan. ‘It’s more that I kissed Kayla rather than we kissed each other.’

‘Ah,’ Natalie replies. ‘And what’s Kayla’s reaction to all this?’

‘Ironically, she’s done a runner back to her parents’ in Southampton,’ I type with a long sigh. ‘We kissed, I think we both panicked, I went back to my parents, she’s apparently gone to hers.’

‘So you haven’t spoken since the kiss?’ Natalie asks. ‘I know what my first piece of advice would be.’

‘Yes yes I know,’ I reply. ‘I want to do this face to face though.’

‘Understandable,’ Natalie types. ‘Honestly, it’s difficult to know what to advise here apart from ‘talk to her’. Obviously I’ll keep your secret but you’re not doing yourself or her any favours by staying in limbo like this. TALK TO HER.’

‘I will when she gets back from Southampton,’ I reply. ‘Or should I go down there to see her?’

‘It’d be a romantic gesture, but you don’t want to appear pushy,’ Natalie types. ‘if you’re now asking ‘should I pursue this?’ then my answer is, I’m afraid, ‘depends’. If it’s worth the risk to your friendship, then sure, but obviously you have your fans to think about as well.’

‘Some of whom already ship us lol,’ I reply.

‘If you’ve noticed that then Kayla must have too,’ Natalie types with a ‘winking’ emoji. ‘Honestly, I wish I could help more, but you know who you should talk to and when you should to her- as soon as possible. If you both want the same thing, then great! Go for it! Just don’t get caught snogging in the bogs at work.’

‘Can probably manage that,’ I reply, earning a ‘laughing’ emoji from Natalie in response.

‘One other thing I’ll say is that from what you’ve told me, keeping secrets hasn’t exactly worked out well for you in the past,’ Natalie types. ‘Just something to think about. G2G now, I only logged on to check for notifications but can chat later if you really need to.’

‘Thanks,’ I type. ‘Going anywhere nice?’

‘Heading to a local pub that'll have the City game on,' Natalie types. ‘Me, Zo, Jess and Paige have been entertaining our American friends all morning and I’m kinda hoping to twist their arm, we’re going to see the NFL at Twickenham tomorrow so I want to introduce them to some REAL football first! Room for one more if you want?’

‘Will pass, thanks,’ I type.’ But definitely talk later. Thanks for the talk.’

‘Anytime,’ Natalie replies, before logging off.

“Ugh, that was a waste of time,” I moan, earning a concerned sigh from my mother.

“Just shows that you WERE talking to the wrong person,” mum replies.

“I know, I know,” I moan, opening up Facebook again on my iPad to discover that Kayla still isn’t online.

“Have you called your counsellor yet?” Mum asks.

“I told you, she doesn’t work at weekends,” I sigh.

“You can at least arrange an appointment with her, you have her mobile number,” mum retorts. “She knows that you’re, umm…”

“’High maintenance’?” I ask. “Because I’ve been in the funny farm, or hear voices in my head?”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” mum sighs. “But it can’t hurt to call and ask, right? You’re friends with her daughter too, right?”

“I’ll call her, I’ll call Sarah,” I say, groaning as I lay back, full-length on the sofa. I hesitate before dialling Sarah’s number- she isn’t her mother’s secretary, after all- but ultimately, I NEED to talk to someone about this, and Beverly is by far the most qualified person. Well, apart from the person I need to talk to most, anyway…

“What’s up, Steph?” Sarah asks as she answers her phone. “Great concert last night by the way! Make sure to pass that on to Kayla as well.” God, even here, I think to myself.

“Yeah, umm…” I mumble. “Is- umm, do you- do you know, your mum?”

“We’ve met a few times, yeah,” Sarah laughs. “Why- what, umm, what’s up, Steph? Are you okay?”

“I know- she, umm, she doesn’t normally work Saturdays, does she?” I ask hesitantly.

“I’ll call her, let her know you need help,” Sarah says.

“Oh- don’t- I don’t want to be any trouble,” I stammer.

“Steph, you wouldn’t have called me if everything was okay,” Sarah says. “I’ll get her to call you, see what she can do.”

“…Thanks,” I sniff, blinking back a tear. “Honestly-“ Before I can say another word, the call ends, leaving me laid back on the sofa with a wide smile on my face. Regardless of what happens with Kayla- or the rest of the group, for that matter- at least I know that I’ll always have a group of true friends who’ll always be there for you. Whether or not that’ll include my best friend, though…

I spend the next ten minutes anxiously waiting for Beverly to call, gradually getting so wound up that when Beverly calls me, my phone slips out of my hands and clatters to the floor. Fortunately, the screen isn’t damaged (I’ve broken phones before due to my clumsiness) but with my shaking hands, it still takes me a few tries to connect my finger to the ‘answer call’ button.

“He- hello?” I nervously ask.

“Hi Steph,” Beverly says, her calm voice quickly soothing my nerves. “I just had a call from my daughter asking me to give you a call, she said you were pretty stressed out- what’s happened?”

“…It’s a big one,” I sigh. “I don’t want to be a burden on your ti-“

“It’s no burden, Stephanie,” Beverly assures me. “I’ve got nothing on today, was only going to watch a movie.”

“I- I kinda, umm…” I mumble, before taking yet another deep breath. “I kinda kissed Kayla last night.”

“I see,” Beverly whispers. “And she- she wasn’t expecting this, right?”

“I assume she wasn’t,” I sigh. “I mean, I- I kept seeing all these signs, or at least I thought I saw all these signs, anyway, thinking she was flirting…”

“How did Kayla react after the kiss?” Beverly asks.

“It’s more how I reacted,” I groan. “Immediately ran out of the apartment, if dad hadn’t picked me up on my way to the nearest tube station I- I may have-“

“Say no more,” Beverly whispers- she’s made no secret of how opposed she is to the idea of me doing another runner. “Where are you now? At your parents’ house?”

“Yeah,” I say. “Kayla’s gone to visit her parents in Southampton, I haven’t spoken to her since the kiss, she hasn’t been online on Facebook either-“

“This IS something best dealt with face to face instead of by text, or even over the telephone,” Beverly says. “First things first, though, what are YOUR feelings about the kiss?”

“I- I don’t know, really…” I meekly reply. “I mean, yes, I think she’s pretty, we get on REALLY well, we’re best friends, we’ve been living together for ages, I’ve thought about, well, this for ages…”

“Sometimes a best friend CAN be a good choice for a partner,” Beverly says. “A lot of people talk about ‘ruining friendships’, but if the friendship is strong enough to begin with, it can be made to work, provided you don’t rush things.”

“The most important thing is how Kayla feels, though,” I say.

“Hmm, I’d say your and her feelings are equally important,” Beverly says. “If you’re telling me that the kiss wasn’t a spur of the moment thing but something you’ve thought about for a long time, then you need to think about where you want to go next, whether or not you do want to cultivate a relationship with Kayla.”

“…I do tend to act first, think later, don’t I?” I mumble, my cheeks reddening.

“It’s a character trait you could do without,” Beverly says. “But you ARE only 21, and there are much worse character traits that you could have. It’s a cliché, sure, but it’s true when people say that you’re only young once, and you need to seize every opportunity that presents itself.”

“Yeah, ‘you only regret the things you don’t do’,” I snort. “Beginning to think that might not be THAT true.”

“Well some positives HAVE come out of this, and you need to focus on them,” Beverly says. “Your feelings for Kayla are out in the open and no longer bottled up. Okay, so you don’t know whether or not Kayla has any feelings for you, but there’s an easy way to find out, and you know what that is.”

“Yes, yes,” I sigh. “We need to talk, obviously. Kinda hard when I’m in London and she’s down on the coast, and like you said, texting or a phone call isn’t really an option here. Gonna be hard to actually get together to talk, heh.”

“Well you have plenty of friends,” Beverly advises. “Someone will be happy to act as a go-between for you and Kayla for the meantime. Who else knows about the kiss?”

“Just my parents,” I say. “Oh, and my friend Natalie, I kinda needed to talk to SOMEONE this morning. She’s not really a close friend of Kayla’s, though.”

“I’ll talk to Sarah,” Beverly says. “She volunteered me to call you- not that I mind, of course- she can be your go-between. I won’t tell her the details but I’ll explain that you and Kayla have fallen out, that you need to talk, and she needs to arrange it for the two of you.”

“Thanks,” I whisper. “God, why did I have to just act on my impulses? It’d have been easier if I’d just never kissed her…”

“Short term, maybe,” Beverly says. “But you know that bottling feelings up can only be damaging in the long run. Obviously, talking to Kayla would’ve been a better option that acting on your impulses, but what’s done is done, so we need to decide how we’re going to move forward from here.”

“And if we DO start a relationship,” I moan, “it’ll be a hell of a thing to explain to Joshua, or worse, to our fans…”

“One step at a time,” Beverly advises. “Top priority now is Kayla. I’ll get Sarah to text her, I know she and her American friends are going to the American Football game at Twickenham tomorrow, and I think they bulk-bought tickets, so I’ll get her to text Kayla on the pretense of offering her a spare ticket. We’ll see what she says.”

“…I’ll probably need a ticket too if she says yes,” I say, earning a laugh from my counsellor.

“That can probably be arranged,” Beverly chuckles. “Going out socially, being among friends would probably do you good after an episode like this, and as Charlotte’s not putting on a party tonight, the game is probably your best shot. I’ll call Sarah and get her to set everything up.”

“Thanks, Beverly,” I whisper.

“Don’t worry about it,” my counsellor replies. “Now what’s important for you is to relax and try not to let the panic overwhelm you. There’s no problem that can’t be resolved with the proper help.”

“I know,” I reply. “And there’s one good thing about all this, actually.”

“Oh?” Beverly asks.

“’It’ hasn’t put in an appearance,” I say with a confident grin, referring to the aspect of my psyche I used to call ‘Steve’.

“Good,” Beverly says. “And I know you’ll keep it that way. Talk soon, Stephanie.”

“Talk soon,” I whisper, ending the call and relaxing back onto my sofa. As always, my counsellor knew exactly the right thing to say to calm my nerves and ease my panic. There IS no problem that can’t be resolved. However, there’s no guarantee that I’ll like the eventual resolution…

After another half an hour of ‘relaxing’, I receive a text message from Sarah explaining that she texted Kayla about tomorrow’s NFL match but not heard anything back- but she also explained that I would be there, meaning that ready or not, tomorrow I’ll be going to watch an American Football match. Knowing my luck, this’ll be one of those American sports with a ‘kisscam’ at half time…

I spend the rest of the afternoon and evening trying to focus on Beverly’s advice and trying not to let my panic reaction overwhelm me. I’m NOT going through this alone. I have friends who will help me, and in a practical sense too- Sarah’s said she’ll text me the second she hears back from Kayla, for example. And yet, I still feel guilty that I’m once again keeping secrets from my friends. Sarah doesn’t know exactly why she’s acting as a go-between for me and Kayla, for all she knows, we’ve had a falling out, not- well, not the exact opposite of falling out. I’d just got my life to a point where I no longer have to lie or keep secrets from my friends, and I’m finally being accepted for who I am, and all of a sudden, I’m once again thrust into a situation where I’m facing the prospect of keeping yet more secrets- and again, it’s all my own doing.

My stress is only compounded a few hours later, after a quick dinner, when my phone rings again- and much to my chagrin, the caller ID shows it’s probably the person I least want to talk to right now.

“Hi Jamie!” I say with a very forced enthusiastic voice. “What’s up?”

“What’s up is a load of rich, famous women in their twenties having not had a night out yesterday or a traditional party tonight,” Jamie replies with a giggle. “So me and a few of the girls are hitting the town tonight. You in? Tell Kayla same goes for her too, it WAS her birthday on Tuesday, after all…”

“Ehh…” I grimace. “Kinda… Kinda still recovering from last night, sorry…”

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” Jamie says. “Figured you might be but thought I’d ask anyway. Kayla?”

“In- in Southampton!” I reply in maybe TOO hasty a voice. “Umm, visiting her parents… Gonna struggle to get back to London in time, heh.”

“Heh, probably!” Jamie giggles. “No worries, there’ll be other nights. Such as this Tuesday coming… I take it you WILL be there?”

“Oh- with bells on,” I giggle.

“So…” Jamie teases. “Coming as a jester, then? Or a sexy female Santa?”

“Not LITERAL bells,” I retort, smirking at the older woman’s good-natured giggling. “But yeah, I’ve got my costume picked out. Doubt it’ll match some of the others there, though- naming no names, of course.”

“No names that don’t begin with an ‘O’, anyway,” Jamie giggles. “And I do NOT mean my daughter, even though she will be the cutest baby to have ever worn a pumpkin costume, hehe! Though given recent events, I reckon the other ‘O’ might be a little preoccupied…” Wow, thanks for reminding me of THAT of all things, I think to myself.

“Speaking of Olivia,” I say, changing the topic as fast as I can, “who’s looking after her tonight? Stuart?”

“Yep,” Jamie says. “It’s a girl’s night tonight, then we’re looking after the kids tomorrow so the BOYS can go to the NFL game.”

“You- you’re not coming to that yourself, then?” I ask.

“Nah, not really my thing,” Jamie says. “I know our new American friends will be there but I’ve already arranged to hang out with them on Monday before they fly back. You’re invited to that too, if you want…”

“Sure, I can be there for that,” I say.

“Cool!” Jamie squeaks. “Got to go now, ‘night out faces’ don’t apply themselves, hehe! And DON’T spoil Strictly for me!”

“The two Scouse girls from Constellation top the leaderboard,” I retort, earning a playful groan from Jamie.

“Hardly a spoiler,” the blonde woman giggles. “Talk later, Steph.”

“See you, Jamie,” I reply, smiling as I end the call, but quickly frowning when I realise that Jamie- of all people- probably won’t be happy when she realises I’ve been keeping secrets from her once again.

Rather than risk being made to feel guilty by any more of my friends- and they are my friends, regardless of what secrets I may keep from them- I switch off my phone for the rest of the night and spend the evening rooted to the sofa watching Strictly and the X Factor (the latter show making me feel smug thanks to the knowledge that literally every contestant would give their right arm for my job). I head to bed just after 10pm- an unbelievably early night for a Saturday, but after my sleepless night last night, a much needed early night.

I’m woken on Sunday morning just after 9am by the sound of loud knocking on my front door, which is quickly answered by my mother.

“Steph!” Mum yells upstairs, making me sigh and cuddle my warm sheets closer to my slender body. “Nikki and Sarah are here!”

“Ugh,” I moan, before rolling out of bed and wrapping a warm dressing gown around my body.

“Hey Steph!” The married couple giggle simultaneously as I enter the living room and slump onto the sofa opposite them.

“Hey girls,” I say. “What you doing here this early, game isn’t until half past one, isn’t it?”

“You weren’t answering your phone,” Sarah replies, reminding me of my switched-off mobile. “And I don’t know your landline.”

“And why are you two even alive at 9am on a Sunday?” I tease, making the two twenty year old women blush. “Didn’t go out last night?”

“Nah, promised to show Jexy a bit more of London before the match,” Nikki says. “They’d be here too, but it’s kinda 3am their time and, well, I’m not going to be the one to wake them up, hehe!”

“Steph-“ Sarah says, but I interrupt her before she’s able to get off another word.

“Were they out last night?” I ask. “Jexy, I mean, with Jamie and the other girls?”

“Steph,” Sarah says firmly, “mum wouldn’t ask me to liaise between you and Kayla if there wasn’t something wrong. She said too that this was what YOU wanted.”

“…Yeah,” I sigh.

“She’s texted me to say that she won’t be at the game today,” Sarah says, “but she’ll be coming back to London tomorrow.”

“What happened between the two of you, anyway?” Nikki asks. “You fallen out? Over, umm, over a guy or something?”

“…Not quite,” I sigh.

“Then what HAS happened?” Sarah asks.

“It’s personal,” I say.

“We’re friends,” Sarah retorts.

“It’s complicated,” I argue.

“We’ve got plenty of time,” Nikki says, making me lean back in my seat and groan.

“I…” I say, taking a deep breath and letting it out as a long, pained sigh. “I- I kinda kissed Kayla. On Friday night, after the concert…”

“…Ah,” Nikki says. “Obviously, neither of us are going to judge THAT, heh!”

“Definitely not,” Sarah whispers, gently squeezing her wife’s hand. “I- I take it Kayla didn’t, you know, respond well, then?”

“More like I didn’t,” I chuckle. “Did a runner straight after the kiss, I- I, umm, came back here, Kayla went back to her folks’ in Southampton, we haven’t spoken since…”

“You don’t have, you know, feelings for her, then?” Nikki asks, obviously struggling to assimilate what I’m telling her.

“I do,” I mumble. “I think. I dunno! I mean, we’re best friends, I know I love her as a friend, but I kept thinking she was dropping hints… Ugh.”

“No wonder you two badly need to talk,” Sarah whispers.

“I need you two to promise me that you’ll keep this to yourselves,” I say, my hands starting to tremble. “Especially if Kayla and I don’t end up together.”

“Of course,” Nikki says, reaching across and gently squeezing my hands in an attempt to stop them from shaking. “Everything will be fine, Steph.”

“We’ll pick up Kayla when she gets back tomorrow,” Sarah says softly. “Drop her round here so you two can talk.”

“No-“ I say suddenly. “Our- drop her round to our flat, please. Better we talk there, where it’s home to BOTH of us.”

“Of course,” Nikki whispers, squeezing my hands once again.

“…I don’t care what the official merchandise says, you two are just as much angels as the other girls, hehe!” I giggle, making the married couple smile and blush.

“I wish,” Sarah giggles. “Still, you never know, this could be the start of something beautiful…”

“I wish!” I chuckle. “No guarantee that Kayla even likes girls. Or worse yet, she doesn’t like girls, but DOES like me…”

“Worked for me,” Sarah shrugs, making me frown in confusion. “I’m serious. Before I met Nikki, I didn’t know whether I liked boys, or I liked girls, or what I liked. And eventually, you know, I found out what it was that I liked.”

“…Girls?” I ask.

“Girl,” Sarah corrects me. “Singular, not plural, just one girl.”

“Girl love forever!” Nikki giggles, cuddling her wife close to her and pressing her hand against hers in an unusual way. “No reason that same can’t happen for ‘Stayla’, hehe!”

“Except me and Kayla have already had relationships before?” I retort. “And both fancied other guys- not girls, but GUYS. That’d make things a little complicated!”

“Doesn’t mean it won’t work,” Sarah shrugs. “Doesn’t mean you two aren’t perfect for each other. Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t at least give it a go.”

“If you hadn’t ‘given it a go’ at the audition you wouldn’t be where you are now,” Nikki says. “And that WAS an improvement, wasn’t it?”

“…A huge one,” I chuckle.

“Either way, tomorrow, you’ll find out,” Sarah says. “And I know that either way, you and Kayla will still be friends.”

“Kinda obviously,” Nikki giggles, “me and Sarah DON’T believe in the whole ‘sex ruins friendships’ thing, hehe!”

“We spent most of the last year trying to set up Jacinta and Ophelia,” Sarah chuckles. “Then, well, ‘you know what’ happened.”

“Yeah,” I laugh. “What- what exactly happened there, anyway?”

“We’ll tell you on our way to pick up- sorry, WAKE up Jexy, hehe!” Nikki giggles.

“Another amazing couple who started from humble origins,” Sarah reminds me. “And they’ll be up and about in a few minutes, so go and get dressed, MISS Abbott!”

“Something suitable!” Nikki advises.

“…What’s ‘suitable’ for an American Football game in England?” I retort.

“You need to ask?” Sarah giggles.

“Something girly, sexy and gorgeous!” Nikki cheers, making me giggle as I disappear up to my bedroom.

Naturally, when I descend the stairs again just over half an hour later, my face is covered in a layer of thick (but still elegant) make-up include dark eyeshadow and dark red lipstick, my hair has been teased out to its fullest volume and is hanging loosely over my shoulders, my body is covered by a fashionable dark red long-sleeved bodysuit and a short, tight black miniskirt, and my legs are covered in shiny black tights and, of course, a pair of black knee-high boots.

“Is there something wrong with your shins that we don’t know about?” Sarah teases, giggling when I respond with a loud raspberry. “Just kidding. Girly? Tick. Sexy? Tick. Gorgeous? Tick!”

“Make me jealous, why don’t you?” Nikki pouts, before giggling herself as her wife gives her a gentle cuddle.

“You know you’ll always be girliest, sexiest and gorgeousest!” Sarah giggles. “Or are you saying that Steph ISN’T girly, sexy or gorgeous?”

“If anything, Steph’s TOO girly, sexy and gorgeous!” Nikki says, making me giggle and blush.

“Is that even possible?” Sarah asks.

“…No,” I say, earning excited giggles from my friends.

“Seriously though,” Sarah says, “I LOVE those boots. And you’ve got, like, a hundred pairs, right? So you won’t miss a pair if a friend, say, wanted to borrow them…?”

“Sure,” I shrug, making Sarah grin excitedly. “What size shoe are you?”

“Six,” Sarah says, making me sigh sadly.

“I’m a seven,” I say, earning a frown from my friend.

“That’s probably for the best,” Sarah says, gripping her wife’s hand. “Don’t want SOMEONE getting too jealous of me swapping clothes with someone who isn’t her!”

“…And I’m an eight,” Nikki says, pointing at her fashionable high-heeled shoes. “And for the record, I have no problem with you swapping clothes with my wife… As long as I get to join in too!”

“You even need to ask?” I reply, making the taller transwoman giggle happily. “…And thanks, both of you. I know what it is you’re doing.”

“…Which is?” Nikki asks.

“Keeping me company,” I reply. “Taking my mind off the whole ‘Kayla’ thing, making sure I don’t do another runner- which I won’t.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Sarah says, before chuckling and rolling her eyes. “Okay, maybe, yeah, a little bit.”

“Before today, I didn’t even know Sunday HAD a 9am, heh,” Nikki jokes. “Sarah got kinda worried when you weren’t answering your phone.”

“Maybe a bit more than ‘kinda’,” Sarah laughs. “And my mum kinda- well, she DID ask me to check in on you, see how you’re doing.”

“Though you do owe us both a lie-in!” Nikki teases, making me giggle and roll my eyes. “Probably wouldn’t have been here this morning if we’d been out last night!”

“’Probably’? Try ‘definitely’!” Sarah giggles.

“Don’t worry, I’ll find some way of making it up to both of you,” I say, wiping a tear from the corner of my eye. “I really, really am lucky to have friends like you two.”

“Well, you know what they say,” Nikki says with a smug grin. “You can-“

“I think the whole world knows that catchphrase by now!” I interrupt, making the married couple laugh excitedly. “Doesn’t make it any less true, though!” The three of us all have wide smiles on our faces as we leave the house and head toward the posh hotel where Alexa and Jenny are staying.

After waking up Alexa and Jenny (which is as scary a prospect as Nikki and Sarah hinted- though the American girls’ tempers soon settled when they saw that I was present) we grab a quick breakfast at an expensive local coffee shop before rounding up the rest of the ‘gridiron party’ and heading west to the vast stadium in Twickenham. As Jamie hinted last night, a lot of the party are boys, though some girls are present too- Hannah, Kelly, Malaika and Alice from the Angels all come along, as does Nikki & Sarah’s friend Jacinta and my friends (and favourite flight attendants) Jessica, Paige, Natalie and Zoe.

However, even though they’re technically outnumbered fourteen to twelve, the boys make more than enough noise to seem like they’re in the majority- especially all six members of ‘The Celestials’, who seem determined to pester me into auditioning them for opening for us at a future concert. The fact that none of them have brought along any instruments doesn’t seem to be deterring them one bit. The one respite from the musical barrage is that Paul Kennedy- the ‘band’s lead singer- isn’t joining in the teasing, though as he’s too distracted by Hannah’s presence on our rented bus, that’s not really that much of a comfort. Nor is the presence of both my brothers (both of whom are happily encouraging the ‘band’s antics), despite the fact that this is technically the first time all three of us have done something together since the start of my transition. Sure, the constant teasing and singing IS distracting me from my Kayla-related anxieties, as Nikki and Sarah promised, but all it does is replace one type of anxiety with another, especially when I glance to the back of the bus and am reminded of the identity of the final member of our ‘party’- Mister Kurt Vance.

Naturally, Kurt is sat next to Kelly, with whom he’s been going out a lot longer than he went out with me (a fact I can’t shake from my head no matter what I try), and who is now eight months post-op- a fully externally anatomical woman, unlike yours truly, which is something else I can’t shake from my head. And yet, as I watch Kurt and Kelly cuddling up together on the back seat, it’s not jealousy that occupies my mind, but rather whether or not I could have as loving a relationship with Kayla as I did with Kurt. However, even those thoughts bring me back to one inescapable dilemma- did I fancy Kurt so much because I saw him, as an FtM transsexual, as a woman, and if Kayla does fancy me, is it because she sees me, an MtF transsexual, as a man? Or, as Nikki and Sarah hinted, is the person more important than the gender? Kayla and I have more in common than Kurt and I did, and I know that can be said for Kayla and some of her ex-boyfriends as well. Is that enough, though? God, I wish she was here right now…

“Boo!” Danny yells, causing me to shriek with surprise as he sits down next to me.

“…Arsehole!” I growl, punching my brother hard in his arm as he breaks down in a fit of laughter.

“Oh come on,” Danny pleads. “Looked like you were in a trance, for god’s sake. Missing the other members of your ‘sub-gang’?” Yeah, you might say that bro, I think to myself.

“…Meh, we’re all friends on this bus, aren’t we?” I ask. “Impressed we got 26 of us to come along today.”

“Huh, you’re including everyone in this bus as part of the ‘extended gang’, then?” Danny asks, making me frown in confusion.

“Well… Sure,” I say. “I mean, Jenny and Alexa may live in America, but that doesn’t mean we should-“

“It’s… Not them I was talking about,” Danny says. “I was thinking more about the guy we BOTH call arsehole.”

“…Who, Tom?” I ask. “Well… Sure, I guess, right? He’s, you know, making an effort to fit in…”

“Big time,” Danny says, gesturing to where our brother is sat talking with Jonathan, Mikey, Dan, Keith and Stuart from the Celestials- no doubt swapping stories and tips about fatherhood. “He REALLY wants your namesake- our niece- to be part of that inner circle, you know?”

“He’s absolutely devoted to her,” I muse.

“Big time,” Danny chuckles. “He’s even postponed his wedding until she’s old enough to walk and be Amanda’s flower girl.”

“Yeah,” I sigh happily. “I- you know? I’m really glad he, like, ‘came around’ in the end.”

“Oh, me too,” Danny says. “Hadn’t been the same since, well, you know…”

“Since one of the three musketeers became the Queen of France?” I ask, making my brother snort with laughter.

“What, Out of Heaven playing Paris next year?” Danny retorts. “But yeah, it’s good to be able to talk to Tom again, hang out the way we used to. Even been on a few double dates with him and Amanda, me and Rachel.” Here it comes… “We’d be happy to make it triple dates if, well, you know…” Why does everything always come back to that? I think to myself.

“…Don’t hold your breath,” I mumble.

“Meh, you’re only 21,” Danny shrugs. “Plenty of time to find the person you want to be with. No angst about being thirty and unmarried or something like that.”

“Yeah,” I muse, before frowning as Danny stares at me expectantly. “…What?”

“…Know anyone who’s turning thirty in a few weeks?” Danny asks.

“Well you were born in 1989, so not you,” I say, before my eyes go wide in revelation. “Oh, Ra- Rachel was born in November ’87, wasn’t she?”

“Yep,” Danny says, his cheeky demeanour suddenly disappearing. “And, well, she’s been dropping a few hints, so I may have, well, bought her a ring…”

“Oh my god, Danny!” I squeak.

“I know she’s got all this angst about, well, bring ‘thirty and unmarried’,” Danny mumbles. “So I’m going to, you know, pop the question the day before her birthday. So she can at least say she was engaged when she turned thirty. Assuming she says yes, anyway!”

“I’m sure she will,” I whisper.

“Thanks, sis,” Danny says. “You know mum will start to lean on you to find someone though, right?”

“Can- can we change the subject, please?” I grimace.

“What?” Danny protests. “Something happen, Steph? You’re not usually this defensive about your love life. Or lack thereof, heh!”

“Arsehole,” I snort. “It-“ I pause before continuing, wondering whether or not to trust Danny with the current situation. I mean sure, he IS my brother, and my parents already know, but this bus is about as public a place as it’s possible to get, and Danny does kinda have a loose tongue, so it’d inevitably get spilled to the other guys, and from the guys to the other girls… Like Jamie…

“…It’s Kurt,” I say, gesturing to the back of the bus.

“Jesus, Steph,” Danny moans. “You’re STILL hung up on him?”

“He was my first proper boyfriend!” I retort. “We’d probably still be together today if I hadn’t- well, you know…”

“Yeah, well move on, for god’s sake,” Danny sighs. “Trust me, no point dwelling on the past. You can have your pick of any guy in the country. And don’t try to tell me ‘no one would date a transgendered girl’, because believe me, there are thousands if not millions of guys in the UK who WOULD happily date you despite being transgendered. Thousands of girls too, probably.” I feel my fingernails start to dig into my palms as Danny’s rant cuts closer and closer to the bone.

“Subject change, please?” I ask.

“…Fine,” Danny sighs, throwing up his hands in mock surrender. “…So, who you picking to win, the Vikings or the Browns?”

“Don’t think we’re allowed to not pick the Vikings,” I chuckle, gazing at the purple and white decorations on the bus. “Where are the Browns from again?”

“Cleveland,” Danny replies.

“…Okay, bit more help, please?” I ask. “American geography isn’t my chosen specialist subject.”

“Ohio,” Danny says, playfully rolling his eyes at my confusion. “Just south of the Great Lakes. Next to Pennsylvania. Good job you’re not touring the US anytime soon. Even better job you’re not driving the tour bus, heh!”

“Oh- shut up,” I feebly moan, my face contorting into a pout as the bus pulls into the stadium’s vast car park. Naturally, as we disembark, a group of paparazzi are waiting for us, making Danny very excited as he wraps his arm around me and smiles a big, fake grin for the cameras.

I half-pay attention to the game as we watch it from our (very good) seats- I’ve never been terribly interested in sports and have never even seen an American Football game before, so I actually need to have it explained to me at half time and after the game who actually won it. Nonetheless, the atmosphere within the stadium is electric, and helps to take my mind off of my anxieties, right up until I get back on the bus, check my phone… And find a text message waiting for me that almost causes me to drop my phone in shock.

‘Hi Steph,’ the message reads. ‘Will be back in London tomorrow. See you at the flat. Kayla.’

“Getting good comments on your Instagram posts then?” Danny asks, once again startling me as he sits down next to me.

“Umm, didn’t post anything from the game,” I mumble. “Just a bit, you know, tired…” Or anxious, same thing, I think to myself.

“Meh, been a big day,” Danny shrugs. “Know I’m definitely going to the next NFL game they hold in London, that game was awesome!”

“It was… Exciting!” I chuckle. “Definitely more of a spectacle than a Premier League game.”

“You been to any Premier League games before?” Danny asks, before suddenly remembering something. “Oh, wait, you went to Palace vs Southampton with Kayla last year, didn’t you?”

“Umm, yeah,” I mumble.

“Yeah, an NFL game at a stadium like Twickenham will make that seem like a kickabout in a local park,” Danny laughs. “Dunno how it’d compare to, like, an FA Cup Final though. Hey, Stu!”

“What?” Stuart shouts from the back of the bus.

“You went to the FA Cup final last year, didn’t you?” Danny asks, a mean twinkle appearing in his eyes. “How does an NFL game compare?”

“Infinitely better,” Stuart growls, earning laughter from all those sat around him.

“Is that because you DIDN’T make a bet this time?” Danny asks as the laughter in the bus intensifies.

“Fuck. Off,” Stuart retorts.

“For what it’s worth, I preferred the cup final!” Jonathan says, his quip followed by the sound of an elbow connecting with a set of ribs and yet more male laughter.

“Ah…” Danny chuckles. “Bet you’re glad you don’t have to put up with male egos anymore, eh?”

“What do you call what I’m doing now?” I snort, making my brother laugh. “And I’m in a band, remember? Male or female, celebrities and egos kinda go hand-in-hand.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Danny shrugs. “Lucky I’ve never had an ego, right?”

“Shut up,” I say with a snort of laughter that makes my brother almost double over in a fit of giggles.

Danny’s teasing- both of me and others on the bus- lasts until we arrival back at our parents’ house, and whilst the distractions are welcome (and very occasionally funny), my mind stays fixated on Kayla’s text message all the way home, to the point that when I step off the buzz, my knees are almost trembling. It’s a relief when I’m finally able to kick off my boots and stretch my tired and anxious body out on my parents’ sofa.

“Right then,” Danny says, sitting down next to me and making me groan. “Destiny 2?”

“Don’t you have a job?” I moan.

“Got the day off,” Danny shrugs. “One of the advantages of sleeping with the boss! Besides, mum and dad will be home soon and I haven’t seen them in over a week.”

“…Fine,” I moan as I switch on the Xbox I keep at my parents’ house.

“You know,” Danny says, “you could be happier to be spending time with me.”

“Ugh- really?” I moan, before sighing. “…Sorry. Just got a lot on my mind right now…”

“Not going to have to tie you to a chair to make sure you don’t do a runner, am I?” Danny asks.

“Piss off,” I snort. “I’m better. I don’t get those- well, ‘urges’ anymore.”

“And you of course don’t have a history of acting on ‘urges’,” Danny says, playfully flicking my long brown hair.

“That-“ I protest.

“Yes, yes, I know,” Danny says. “There’s a difference between being the person you always wanted to be and something destructive like running away. And I happily concede that you transitioning has only been constructive for you.” Well, mostly, I think to myself.

“Yeah,” I concede.

“So what, pray tell,” Danny asks, “is stressing out my millionaire celebrity sister?”

“I’m not QUITE a millionaire,” I snort. “And celebrities get stressed all the time. Hell, even Prince Harry went on record last year about suffering from depression. He’s a nice guy, incidentally.”

“He was also single for ages…” Danny teases, making me squirm in my seat as he once again lands squarely on my current pressure point. “…What, no retort about what all the toffs would say about a royal wedding with a transgendered bride?”

“Shut up,” I mumble as another look of realisation comes over my brother’s face.

“You- you ARE having boy trouble!” Danny exclaims.

“I told you, it’s seeing Kurt again,” I mumble as my cheeks start to redden.

“You didn’t have any contact with Kurt on the bus or at the game,” Danny retorts, “and he’s long since out of sight. This is someone else, it’s got to be.”

“Leave me alone,” I growl, before breathing a sigh of relief as the front door opens and two pairs of feet walk through it.

“Hello!” Mum calls. “Anyone home?”

“In the living room,” Danny replies as I continue to seethe. “Steph’s having boy trouble. Again.”

“You prick!” I growl, trying to compose myself as our parents enter the living room with concerned looks on their faces.

“You’re having boy trouble?” Mum asks. “So- so did you resolve whatever it was that was happening with Kayla, then?”

“…No,” I mumble as Danny stares at me with a look of confusion on his face.

“What’s this about Kayla?” My brother asks. “Have you two fallen out?”

“You mean you haven’t told your brother yet?” Dad asks.

“Told me what?” Danny pleads. “Are- no…”

“Yes…” I sigh.

“You… And Kayla!?” Danny exclaims. “I didn’t even know you were into-“

“Jeez, you knew me as a boy for nineteen years!” I retort. “Wouldn’t have picked me for being ‘into boys’ back then, would you?”

“Well- there were times…” Danny says, before letting out an angry ‘hey’ as I elbow him in his ribs. “What was that for? I wasn’t kidding, you know? You never were as, you know, interested in girls as me or Tom…”

“I’m seven years younger than you and ten years younger than him,” I retort. “That might have been why!”

“Danny’s not wrong, Steph,” dad says. “Compared to your brothers at the same age, you were, well, not as ‘preoccupied’ as they were.”

“Meaning you didn’t spend as much time wan-“ Danny begins.

“Daniel!” Mum interrupts with a growl. “Though however he wants to put it, he is right.”

“Like I said to you yesterday, maybe I’m bisexual,” I shrug. “Don’t see what business it is of everyone.”

“It’s our business when it’s causing you stress and anxiety,” dad says. “God knows you’ve had enough of both of those over the last couple of years. Though I suppose the fact that you’re slumped on our sofa playing your games shows it’s not affecting you TOO badly, heh.”

“I guess not,” I sigh. “…Though I’ll be seeing Kayla tomorrow, she’s coming home tomorrow morning… God…”

“Still trying to figure out what you’re going to say to her?” Dad asks.

“Still trying to figure out how to even look her in the eye,” I snort. “God, we had such a good thing going too…”

“But- but you and Kayla, though?” Danny asks. “Guess it’s lucky your fans are already LGBT-friendly, heh.”

“Oh- no,” I say. “I don’t want the fans to find out about this. Hell, I didn’t even want YOU to find out about this…”

“Yeah, this is the sort of thing you’re kinda gonna struggle to keep quiet,” Danny says.

“What, am I not entitled to a little privacy?” I snort.

“Danny’s got a point,” dad says. “You’re ENTITLED to privacy, sure, but whether or not you’ll get it when you- and Kayla, for that matter- have photographers following your every move…”

“Well- well regardless, this is something I want to keep to as few people as possible,” I say.

“Yeah, ‘cause keeping secrets has worked out so well for you in the past, hasn’t it?” Danny snorts, replying to my elbow in his ribs with an elbow of his own that makes my face contort with anger.

“Danny IS right,” mum says. “If you and Kayla are- well, going to be ‘you and Kayla’, keeping it a secret from your friends will be a disaster.”

“If I can find out by accident, anyone can,” Danny says softly, wisely choosing not to use his usual sarcastic tone of voice.

“…Suppose we don’t?” I ask. “Suppose we just decide to stay friends?”

“Then we’ll keep your secret, won’t we, Daniel?” Dad asks.

“…Okay,” Danny mumbles. “How- how did all this happen, anyway?”

“Ugh,” I spit, grabbing my game controller. “LONG story…”

After a quick dinner, and despite my parents’ protests, I leave the family home and head back to my own posh flat, shivering when I unlock the door to find the lights off and everything just where I left it yesterday. The feeling of coming into an effectively deserted home like this one is one I’ll never get used to- and the main reason why I never want to live alone. Of course, whether it’s a best friend or a partner I live with is still up in the air…

I try to relax for the rest of the night by watching TV- specifically, the Strictly Come Dancing results show- but with no one to distract me, my mind is occupied by Kayla’s text message. If she’s coming back, obviously she doesn’t want to just cut all ties with me- then again, she loves the band more than anything, and regardless of how she feels about me, I know that if the current situation resulted in me leaving the band, she’d NEVER forgive me. Or maybe, she’s only coming back to collect her stuff ahead of moving out- it’s not like either of us couldn’t afford our own place, after all. Or she’s coming back to tell me that maybe, just maybe, she actually wants a relationship with me. Or maybe she’s coming back to tell me that what happened on Friday simply didn’t happen. Or maybe- or maybe I’m working myself up into such a state that it’ll be a miracle if I don’t explode the second Kayla walks through the door.

Naturally, I don’t get much sleep, and when my alarm wakes me at7am, my head is still foggy from all my worrying the night before. I’d wanted to get an early morning so I could get a head start on the day, be extra prepared and ready for when Kayla returns, but as I shower, I find myself struggling to simply stay awake. After drying myself, I don’t even put on any make-up, instead tying my messy hair back into a ponytail and getting dressed in a very plain lilac hoodie and girly hipster jeans (though I do wear my usual underwear underneath- though nowadays wearing a bra is much more a 'need' rather than 'want' situation) thanks to twelve months of hormones. As I stare at my unbelievably drab reflection in the mirror, I’m forced to smile- even with a face free to make-up or any stray hair, I look unquestionably female. The problem is, though, when Kayla looks at this face, will she see the game girl she’s been best friends with for years- or the boy she’s been flirting with- or at the very least, the boy I think she may have been flirting with?

I examine my reflection more closely as I agonise over whether or not to put on some make-up, even a tiny amount, to disguise what others (but not myself) might perceive as ‘Steve’s face. I eventually decide to put on just a little bit of mascara and am heading back to my bedroom when the doorbell rings, causing me to freeze in place.

“Uh- uh- just a sec- just a second,” I nervously stammer, pausing as I decide what to do next. Obviously, this isn’t good enough for Kayla, as mere seconds later, I hear the door unlock- Kayla obviously using her own set of keys- and seconds later I’m staring into the face of the tiny twenty year old girl, which, like mine, is devoid of make-up. It looks like our ‘face to face’ will be just that- with nothing to hide behind, no ‘masks’.

“Hi Steph,” Kayla says in a hoarse voice, barely louder than a whisper.

“Hi Kayla,” I mumble, my heart racing and all of my limbs shaking uncontrollably. “Do- do you want- would you- some coffee?”

“Please,” Kayla says, slowly and deliberately walking to the sofa and sitting down in her usual spot- though she looks far from comfortable there.

The flat remains silent as I pour us both a cappuccino from our Tassimo machine, and as I sit down in my usual spot on our sofa, I can’t help but feel just as uncomfortable as Kayla looks.

“We- umm,” I mumble. “We need- we should talk.”

“Yeah, I’d say we should,” Kayla whispers. “Steph, about what-“

“I was just acting on impulse,” I blab. “I was on a high from the concert, it- it just kinda happened.” I stare at my friend, biting my lip as she remains silent, digesting my words. “Did- did it, you know, umm, did it happen?”

“…No sense pretending it didn’t,” Kayla mumbles. “Steph, I-“ I look on expectantly as Kayla pauses, only for her to let out a long, frustrated sigh.

“Kayla, do-“ I say hesitantly. “Do- do you regret the- the thin- the-“

“The kiss?” Kayla asks. “I- ugh. I dunno.” Okay, I think to myself. Not the response I was expecting…

“Do you- do you want-“ I stammer.

“Another?” Kayla asks, shaking her head frustratedly. “I really, truly don’t know. Maybe?”

“So- so you-“ I babble, taking a deep breath to compose myself. “Kayla, do you- do you have, you know, umm, feelings?”

“…I’d be lying if I said I definitely didn’t,” Kayla mumbles, sounding almost ashamed of the confession. “I, umm…”

“I’ve had- I’ve had, umm, feelings for you for a while,” I say. “I don’t- I don’t know what I really want…”

“Nor do I,” Kayla sighs. “I mean, we WOULD be good for each other, you know? We’re best friends, after all.”

“We have a lot in common,” I say. “Work, hobbies, we already live together, for god’s sake.”

“We have the same friends,” Kayla continues. “Literally, I don’t think I have a friend who isn’t already friends with you.”

“My parents love you,” I say. “So do my brothers.”

“My parents are fond of you too,” Kayla says. “But- ugh. I- I do love you, Steph. But I always thought-“

“…Yes?” I ask, my anxiety slowly being replaced by excitement at the possibilities unfolding in front of me.

“But I-“ Kayla stammers. “I always thought we were more ‘Charlotte and Jamie’ than ‘Nikki and Sarah’. Sisters, you know? Not, umm, not really lovers…”

“I- I kinda, umm… I kinda felt the same way,” I mumble. “At first. But- ugh. Like I said, I don’t know what I REALLY want. But I know- I know that I DO like you. And I- I think you like me too.”

“…Yeah,” Kayla whispers, nearly making my heart skip a beat.

“Was I- was I imagining it?” I ask. “All those times you seemed to be, umm, flirting with me? You know, cuddling up to me on the sofa…”

“I wanted-“ Kayla says, obviously struggling to find the right words. “I- I wanted to be close to you. I’ve never, you know, had someone like- like a best friend, or a sister, or someone, you know, like that…”

“…I haven’t really either,” I chuckle. “Not a best, well, female friend, anyway. Though- though that’s it, though…”

“What- what’s it’?” Kayla asks.

“You ARE my best friend,” I say. “If we- if we change our relationship, that- that might, you know, umm, change…”

“I know what you mean,” Kayla mumbles. “I don’t want to lose my best friend for something that might not even, umm, work…”

“And then there’s the reaction of the fans to think about,” I say.

“And the press!” Kayla snorts. “Can you imagine the field day that Fail Online would have if they find out?”

“And they WOULD find out,” I say. “Ugh, people have already accidentally found out that we kissed…”

“Who- who did you tell?” Kayla asks, obviously anxious about the idea of anyone else knowing.

“Just- just my parents, my brother,” I reply, before letting out a long sigh. “…Natalie, Nikki, Sarah might also know… And, umm, and Beverly…”

“Oh, GOD,” Kayla moans, burying her face in her hands.

“I’m sorry,” I meekly mumble.

“No, no, it’s okay, they’re all friends,” Kayla sighs. “And I suppose you WILL have needed someone to talk to… Better that than you holing up in a hotel somewhere in deepest darkest Wales or something, heh.”

“Yeah,” I say. “Believe me, I’ve been learning my lessons there, you know, opening up to people… God, Jamie’s reaction would be worst of all if she found out.”

“She doesn’t seem THAT bad,” Kayla says. “And she is very LGBT-friendly, I mean, she was maid of honour at Nikki’s wedding, not to mention being, umm, ‘T’ herself…”

“It’s more her being kept in the dark that she’ll have a problem with,” I sigh, before it suddenly dawns on me exactly what Kayla just said. “So- so you’re okay, then, with- with, umm…"

“…With what?” Kayla asks.

“With the idea of being, umm,” I stammer. “A- An ‘L’ couple?”

“…Sure,” Kayla says, though her hesitation hardly fills me with confidence.

“So- so you see me-“ I ask.

“As a woman,” Kayla says. “100%, Steph, I swear.”

“…Okay,” I whisper. “Because- because that would really have worried me-“

“Honestly, Steph,” Kayla says. “Even now, jeans, no make-up, all I see is a girl. All I’ll ever see is a girl, I promise.”

“Thanks,” I say with a smile. “Because- ugh, god, I’m all worked up about this, we’re not even an actual couple.”

“That’s true,” Kayla whispers, leading to an awkward pause.

“…Yet?” I ask. “I mean, umm, sure, there are a lot of reasons why we SHOULDN’T be together…”

“Oh- loads,” Kayla chuckles. “It’ll change EVERYTHING.”

“And- and there’s the physical aspect too,” I say. “I mean, twelve months on oestrogen, I’m not- well, I’m not, you know…”

“I can guess,” Kayla whispers. “And obviously, umm, it’s- it’s whether or not you’d be comfortable being, you know, ‘top’ in bed…”

“And our private lives would never be private ever again if it became public,” I say. “And if we keep it private, it’ll probably drive me round the bend, heh.”

“…Unless I was there to help you out every time you got stressed,” Kayla says softly. “Because, I mean, there are, like, plenty of reasons why we SHOULD be together.”

“Oh- for sure,” I say. “When we’re on the road together, we’ll be, you know, on the road ‘together’.”

“You’re sweet, sensitive, funny,” Kayla says. “Much more so than any BOY, that’s for sure.”

“We can share make-up tips,” I say. “Maybe not clothes, ‘cause, you know, the size difference…”

“You’re not THAT tall,” Kayla snorts, before smiling. “Certainly not too tall that anyone would mistake us for parent and child.”

“…Did that actually happen?” I ask, giggling as Kayla rolls her eyes.

“Made worse by the fact that we held hands everywhere we went,” the blonde girl snorts. “But there, that- that’s probably reason number 1 why we SHOULD get together.”

“What’s that?” I ask.

“You make me smile,” Kayla says with a warm grin of her own.

“…You make me smile too,” I say, smiling despite the flushed feeling in my cheeks. A tense silence fills the room as Kayla and I stare at each other, before leaning in toward each other, our lips slightly parted.

The moment our lips make contact with each other is unlike any feeling I’ve ever had. Sure, I’ve kissed people before, but this- this is different. Tiny lightning bolts of excitement jump between my mouth and Kayla’s as our lips slowly glide over each other, the pressure increasing with every passing second and forcing our mouths to part further, allowing our tongues to gently come into contact and tentatively explore each other. As the kiss continues, I feel my whole body start to melt into a happy, contented puddle of joy.

“O- okay,” I gasp as our mouths finally part.

“Yeah,” Kayla breathlessly giggles. “Umm, so, umm, oestrogen, then?”

“’Fraid so,” I say with a grimace as I follow Kayla's eyes to my still-flat crotch. "This- this isn't a problem, right? Because there are-"

"It's okay," Kayla says, though deep down, I can't help but wonder just how disappointed she is- and the fact that she brought it up at all brings my biggest concern back to the front of my mind.

"And- ugh," I sigh. "The fact that you mentioned it at all-"

"Was my mistake," Kayla interrupts. "I guess- argh, this'll sound crap..."

"No, go on," I whisper.

"I guess-" Kayla says, frowning and looking almost ashamed of herself, "I kinda see you- see you more as 'transwoman' than 'woman'. Ugh, I'm SO sorry, I don't know if that makes any sense..."

"A bit," I whisper. "I- I guess that how I always saw Kurt, in a way, more 'transman' than 'man', so I can hardly complain, heh. But that WAS a hetero relationship, I knew that from the start."

"And this will be a lesbian one," Kayla says with a smile, before leaning in to give me another long, soft kiss.

"So- so we- we're really doing this, then?" I whisper nervously.

"...You only regret the things you DIDN'T do," Kayla says with a confident smile. "If we don't, we'll both wonder for the rest of our lives."

"We would," I say, my heart fluttering as my girlfriend- my new girlfriend- smiles at me.

"Obviously, we shouldn't jump in feet first," Kayla says. "We'll go slow at first, take it a step at a time, make sure this is what we both REALLY want."

"Yeah," I whisper.

"And then, if things go well, we'll step it up a gear," Kayla says.

"Yeah!" I giggle excitedly.

"Obviously, we'll keep it private at first," Kayla says. "Just- just the two of us. Those who know we've kissed... We'll tell them we're still working things out between us."

"I dunno," I mumble. "Keeping secrets has never worked out well for me in the past, you know?"

"I know," Kayla whispers. "But we don't want to go too fast, feel all the pressure and crack apart... Because the absolute last thing I want to do is lose you as a friend. You're far too precious to me for that to happen."

"So- so no public displays, then?" I ask.

"HELL no," Kayla laughs. "Not for now, anyway. But behind closed doors..." Kayla punctuates her words with yet another kiss that turns my already relaxed body to jelly. "This really could be the start of something beautiful."

"I know it will be," I say, returning Kayla's kiss, before we spend the rest of the morning, afternoon and evening cuddled together on the sofa, not just enjoying but loving each other's company as we talk about our future together, and what it might bring.

So, I have my answer. And it's not just a good answer, but one better than I could ever have expected. Kayla and I are now a couple- maybe not an official couple, and not a physical one just yet, but a couple nonetheless. She wants to explore a relationship with me, and I want the same.

And yet, I can't help but worry. There ARE plenty of obstacles ahead of us. Our friends, our management, our fans... And then there's me and Kayla ourselves. We may compare ourselves to Nikki and Sarah, but it wasn't love at first sight for us, we have had other relationships, and as our first proper kiss shows, as my body gets more and more feminine, Kayla may decide that I'm not able to give her what she wants- and she may not be able to give me what I want.

But for now, all I want is someone to love, and someone who loves me back- and in Kayla, I have just that. There's no need to be pessimistic- any problem we encounter can be worked through, as long as we work through it together. And we will work through them. And no matter what, we WILL be together.

I let out several shrieks of laughter as the loud music pulses inside my head, mixing with the alcohol and the hot, sweaty atmosphere of the nightclub to create a strong sense of euphoria. This euphoria is, of course, helped by the short, tight black dress I’ve squeezed my fledgling curves into, the thick make-up on my face and the extra-high heeled shoes attached to my feet!

I’m no stranger to loud music and crowded situations, of course- but it makes a nice change to be in the crowd for once, rather than stood above it, especially as the crowd is full of tall, handsome young men… And one exceptionally beautiful petite young woman.

It’s been just under two months since the first kiss between myself and Kayla, and in that time, our relationship has grown stronger- but at a very, very slow rate. Emotionally, we’re ‘there’- we talk freely with each other about everything. Our feelings, our hopes and our desires- well… Maybe not that last one, as physically, our relationship has barely got beyond square one. We frequently cuddle up together on the sofa, we kiss each other good night every time we go to bed- before going to sleep in separate beds. We’ve not yet shared a bed, even two months on, and beyond the occasional hand up each other's tops, we’ve not made any sexual ‘exploration’ at all- not that I could, even if I wanted to, thanks to the oestrogen that’s been flooding my body for the last year and a bit.

It’s hardly a secret that Kayla’s only ever been in relationships with men, and as such, has certain ‘expectations’. Then again, I’ve only ever been in relationships with men- well, A relationship with A man, who was just as ‘anatomically reversed’ as I am. Then again, I never slept with Kurt, either…

This uncertainty isn’t exactly helping our relationship, but at the same time, we know that we can’t risk taking things any faster for fear of damaging our friendship, which is far more valuable to the both of us than any physical desires (my ‘desires’ being another thing diminished by the oestrogen). Therefore, we’re taking it slow, and apart from those who already know about our relationship (our families, Nikki, Sarah, Natalie and Dr Phillips), we’re also keeping it quiet for now- a ruse that’s hopefully being maintained by the sight of me dancing with a tall, sexy guy while Kayla does the same thing in another part of the club.

The two of us stay out extra-late tonight for two very important reasons- first, we chose a REALLY good nightclub, and second, tonight is Friday the 22nd of December- or, more accurately, it’s the early hours of the morning of Saturday the 23rd of December- and tonight is our last chance to party before Christmas!

“Ahh!” Adeola cries as we leave the club just after 2am to be greeted by a VERY cold blast of winter air. “Why didn’t I wear tights tonight?”

“Because you have long, sexy legs that deserve to be shown off!” Marco- Addie’s boyfriend- says, wrapping his arms around the dark-skinned girl in an attempt to keep her warm.

“No good being ‘sexy’ if they freeze solid and snap off at the hip, innit?” Adeola protests, shivering as she climbs into a waiting cab with her boyfriend and Becca and her fiancé.”

“Well I AM wearing tights,” Kayla announces, gesturing to her short, shiny legs, “and I’m still freezing!”

“Having 0.01% body fat will do that,” Nikki teases as we (accompanied by Nikki’s wife, of course) climb into our cab and huddle together on the back seat for warmth.

“Oh- shut up,” Kayla retorts, before giggling as the cab pulls away. “I SO can’t wait for my bed…”

“And is- is it still, you know… ‘Your’ bed?” Sarah asks hesitantly, making my eyes widen.

“Shh!” I hiss. “Careless talk costs careers!”

“Oh relax,” Nikki sighs. “These cabs are soundproof, I should know, my dad drives one. Driver can’t hear what we’re saying.”

“Though if you don’t want to talk, that’s okay,” Sarah says. “Probably not the right time or place-“

“-Or the right blood alcohol level for it!” Nikki interrupted, making her wife drunkenly giggle.

“But we’ll still be here if you need to chat,” Sarah says with a warm smile. “Though this is your flat…”

“Yep!” Kayla says with an obviously forced smile. “See you tomorrow- or tonight, hehe! At the gift exchange, okay?”

“Like we’d miss that!” Nikki giggled. “See you later, Staylagator!”

“Until tomorrow, Snikkihollow!” I reply, making the married couple giggle excitedly as their cab pulls away.

Naturally, once we enter our flat, the first thing we do is switch on the central heating. The second thing we do is kick off our torturously high-heeled shoes, and the third thing we do is give each other a long, deep kiss.

“Mmm,” Kayla moans happily as our tongues slide over each other. “…You really taste of booze, hehe!”

“Not my fault you’re teetotal!” I retort, before leaning in for another kiss.

“Let’s- let’s get some sleep,” Kayla says, gently placing her hand on my chest and giving me a soft, gentle kiss before heading into her bedroom. However, her bedroom door is thin enough to let me hear the long, drawn-out sigh she lets out once her door is closed- something I repeat after closing my bedroom door behind me. She’s clearly frustrated, and if I’m honest, so am I.

I’ve got no problem with never having had sex as a man. My life as ‘Steve’ is in the past, where it belongs. It- and I do mean ‘it’- isn’t coming back. I consider my relationship with Kayla to be a lesbian one, and she says she does too- but I can’t help but wonder whether or not, deep down, she truly means it, whether she’s truly adjusted her ‘expectations’. Hell, some couples even go years without ever having sex, and if I’m honest with myself, that prospect doesn’t bother me a great deal- but it might bother Kayla, and that’s the tricky part. A relationship is a partnership, we’re both equals, we both have ‘needs’ that the other must satisfy. Kayla definitely satisfies my ‘emotional needs’, but I can’t say for certain that I satisfy her needs- and that’s what makes me concerned for the long-term future of our relationship.

In the short-term, however, I’m satisfied that things are going okay, especially with one of our favourite times of the year fast approaching. Despite my hangover, I have a smile on my face when the cold winter sun shines through my curtains, waking me from my slumber. My smile widens when I open my bedroom door and am greeted by the high-pitched sound of Super Mario’s voice.

“Starting early, then?” I ask, trying to disguise the pain in my head as I pour a hot, sweet mug of coffee.

“I’m going to get this Power Moon even if it kills me,” Kayla replies, a look of pure determination on her face. However, it’s what’s on her body that interests me the most.

In stark contrast to her ‘high fashion’ tiny clubbing dress from last night, Kayla is dressed in a very warm-looking pair of pyjamas with a pink floral pattern on them, and on her feet, instead of the torturous stilettos of last night, are a pair of very warm-looking fleece lined booties. Kayla’s hair is messy and unwashed, and her face is make-up free… And yet she looks just as beautiful as she did last night when she was dolled up to the nines. I let out a small giggle as I grab our ‘snuggle blanket’ from the side of the sofa and wrap it around my own nightie-clad body, before crashing on the sofa next to Kayla and letting wrap the rest of the blanket around her.

“Mmm…” I moan contentedly. “Cozy…”

“Yeah,” Kayla giggles. “You’d probably be cozier if you weren’t hungover. And don’t argue, I can still smell it!”

“Girls just wanna have fu-un…” I sing, making Kayla giggle. “That counts as a private concert, by the way, so you owe me £200.” I giggle as Kayla rolls her eyes, before pausing the game and giving me a soft kiss on my lips.

“That counts as a meet and greet, by the way, so you owe ME £300!” The tiny blonde girl teases, making me giggle.

“Tell me where you got your pyjamas and we’ll call it quits,” I retort, gently stroking the extra-soft fabric covering Kayla’s arms.

“Yeah… Sadly they don’t do them in adult sizes, heh,” my girlfriend sighs, making me smile sympathetically. Kayla’s always been self-conscious about her height, and how youthful she looks… Maybe this is another reason why there’s so much anxiety in our relationship?

“Still cute, though,” I say, making Kayla giggle.

“Thanks!” Kayla squeaks. “I’m not wearing it to the gift exchange, though!”

“Meh,” I reply. “Their loss, my gain. Have you wrapped all your gifts?”

“Yep,” Kayla sighs. “One of the things that sucks the most about keeping ‘us’ secret, we can’t save time and money on gift wrapping!”

“But on the plus side,” I retort, “we get to spend twice as much time shopping for gifts?”

“…We’ll do that anyway when we tell everyone,” Kayla giggles as I bite my lip.

“Yeah,” I say hesitantly. “About that…”

“Ugh,” Kayla spits. “Really- really not the time. REALLY not the time, what with Christmas in two days, and besides, we’ll be spending it mostly with family… Probably not going to so much as see another ‘halo wearer’ until the New Year.”

“At which point we’re going to be up to our eyeballs either touring or working on our third album,” I retort, making the tiny blonde girl sigh.

“…Probably,” Kayla concedes. “But this thing needs to be done carefully. You of all people should know that.”

“I of all people should know why you don’t keep secrets in the first place!” I say, before taking a deep breath. “We’ve had this discussion hundreds of times, we’re not going to do either of us any good having it again. ESPECIALLY at this time of year.”

“True,” Kayla says, before letting out a loud cheer as she finally clears the level she was stuck on. “Ugh, finally!”

“Ahh,” I giggle. “You know, sometimes I worry that I’ve, you know, ‘ruined’ you? Like, with videogames and pizza…”

“That’d only be true if gaming and pizza are ‘boy things’,” Kayla retorts. “Want to know how I know they’re not?”

“Go on,” I say.

“You play videogames and eat pizza,” Kayla says with a giggle, before smiling as I lean in for a kiss- though I can’t help but wonder whether or not the kiss is what Kayla was angling for, whether she’s able to see ‘Steph the best friend’ and ‘Steph the girlfriend’ as the same person. “If anything,” my girlfriend continues, “stuff like videogames and pizza have improved me, rather than the other way round. Made me, you know, a more ‘rounded’ person.”

“I would say ‘pizza usually has that effect’,” I say as I gently rub Kayla’s flat belly. “But for you… I’m not convinced, hehe!”

“Yeah,” Kayla laughs cautiously, before wriggling in her seat and causing me to hastily withdraw my hand from her stomach. “Doesn’t mean that I don’t still love more ‘traditional’ girl stuff, you know.”

“Yeah- remember this is me you’re talking to?” I say, making the blonde girl giggle. “Both in ‘knowing that you love that stuff’ and ‘really loving it myself’. And while we’re talking about ‘traditionally girly stuff’, I’m the one wearing a nightie and you’re the one in, like, ‘trouser pyjamas’…”

“That I’m going to swap for a pair of tights, a stretchy bodysuit and a long pencil skirt when we head out,” Kayla retorts. “Oh, and heels, of course!”

“Duh,” I giggle. “Though for me it’ll be a tight sweater, opaque tights and a knee-length leather skirt. Oh, and a pair of knee-high boots, of course!”

“Duh!” Kayla retorts with an excited giggle. “Ahh… You know, I’ve always really wondered, you know? Why it is that men wear trousers and women wear skirts, when logically, shouldn’t it be the other way round?”

“What, to give men more ‘room’?” I reply. “Thought the same thing myself. Yes, before you say it, it IS obvious that I’d have those thoughts.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Kayla mock-protests.

“Nah, but I don’t blame you for thinking it,” I say. “I actually like, you know, having these conversations, being able to talk openly about gender-related stuff…”

“Me too,” Kayla says, cuddling her tiny body closer to mine. “So why DO men wear trousers and women wear skirts?”

“I dunno,” I shrug. “Social thing, maybe? I mean, skirts are less, you know, ‘convenient’, so women have to wear them to ‘know their place’?”

“I heard a saying recently, though,” Kayla retorts. “’A skirt is a symbol of strength’. Think Nikki told me that one. And she IS right.”

“Says the woman wearing a pair of trousers,” I say, gently stroking Kayla’s thigh. “God, these pyjamas are SO soft! You sure they don’t make them in adult sizes?”

“’Fraid so,” Kayla sighs. “And you’d be okay with wearing a pair of trousers to bed?”

“I’m okay wearing trousers full stop,” I reply. “Provided they’re pink, or made of a soft fabric, or have ‘women’s’ on the label…”

“Wish I’d known that before buying all your presents!” Kayla teases. “So… Are you saying you WOULDN’T be comfortable wearing a man’s skirt?”

“’Men’s skirts’ being…?” I ask.

“I dunno,” Kayla shrugs. “A kilt, maybe?”

“…’Kilt’, no, ‘tartan skirt’, yes,” I say, making Kayla giggle. “Think I’ve got one, actually- a tartan skirt, that is, not a kilt. Think I got it for Christmas two years ago from, umm…”

“One of the former members of our ‘family’?” Kayla asks with a sigh. “I was thinking about how much the family had grown when doing all the gift wrapping, forgot that sometimes it shrinks, too.”

“It’s weird,” I sigh. “It’s been, like, over a year since the quote-unquote ‘war’ and I haven’t so much as spoken to her, but I still kinda miss her, you know?”

“Yeah- I used to live with her, remember?” Kayla retorts.

“So did I,” I say. “Oh well. She made her bed, she can sleep in it.” I bite my lip as I realise that ‘sleeping in one’s own bed’ is still a sensitive topic for me and Kayla- but the blonde girl doesn’t seem to have noticed. Though I’m not sure whether to be relieved or frustrated by that fact…

“It’s really gratifying that Constellation haven’t released an album yet,” Kayla says with a smirk. “And from what Jon tells me, they’ll be on, like, half the pre-recorded Christmas shows that we are.”

“Thought it was pretty funny that we did the Strictly results show when they didn’t,” I chuckle. “Even though TWO of their members were on the show this year.”

“Hehe,” Kayla giggles. “Jon also says he’s 99% certain someone from Heavenly Talent will be on next year, which means us or the Angels, and there have already been two Angels on the show…”

“Too late to call dibs?” I ask.

“Maybe,” Kayla replies with a smug smile. “Though it’s more like it’s too early to call ANYTHING, it’s, like, nine months to the next series!”

“Nine months too long!” I giggle. “Ahh… We’re gonna have to get dressed eventually, aren’t we?”

“Can’t keep you out of a 100% gorgeous, 100% girly skirt forever!” Kayla giggles, unwrapping herself from the blanket. “And speaking of dibs- dibs on first use of the shower!”

“Go right ahead,” I say with a grin as I pick up Kayla’s discarded Switch controller, before spending the next half an hour gaming.

My gaming session, naturally, comes to an end when Kayla steps out of her bedroom and does a twirl in her outfit for the day, almost making me drool. Her bodysuit clings to every part of her torso, and the open back shows an enticing amount of skin, her skirt hugs her curves beautifully and her shiny black tights make her legs glisten in the light. Under ordinary circumstances, I’d be desperate to pull on such an outfit myself, and even though I’m making a mental note to buy Kayla’s entire outfit in my size, my main thought is how beautiful Kayla looks in her clothes- especially with her wavy blonde bob framing her lightly made-up face.

“Hot stuff!” I say, making Kayla giggle bashfully. “Seriously. And you need to tell me where you got that bodysuit!”

“Or maybe you need to wait two more days?” Kayla retorts with a wink. “Come on, your turn now!” I giggle as I turn off the Switch, before heading into the shower and letting the hot water cascade over my body. My curvy, soft skinned feminine body with firm B-cup breasts- though one that still has an 'unwanted guest' hanging between its legs. Then again, said 'unwanted guest' hasn't 'made his presence known' in months now, and never will again- though a part of me almost wishes that 'he' would, if only to set Kayla's mind at ease...

Once I’ve blow-dried my extra-long brown hair and tied it into a ponytail (which almost reaches down to my waistline), I take a razor and make sure I am utterly hairless below my eyebrows- before turning my attention to my eyebrows, tweezing them into a perfect slender, feminine shape. My make-up is next- a plain foundation (anything darker or shinier would look ridiculous in December), followed by a smoky eyeshadow, thick mascara and eyeliner, and a matte red lipstick.

After returning to my room, I pull on my plain black bra and thong, followed by a pair of light black tights, and I can’t help but muse at how, two years ago, every item in my underwear was almost like a feat of engineering. My underpants were designed with special ‘pouches’ to keep me flat, my bras were padded and I even wore special foundation garments to hold my waist in and give my hips extra ‘definition’. Nowadays, the underwear I wear is identical to what any other woman would wear- and that fact never fails to excite me.

Naturally, I’m also excited when I step into my favourite slender, knee-length leather skirt and when I pull on my clingy burgundy-coloured turtleneck sweater, and especially excited when I zip my lower legs into a pair of pleather knee-high boots with a chunky 4” platform heel. I used to only save boots (especially ones as girly and sexy as these) for special occasions, but over the last few months (and after the nickname ‘Steffieboots’ became public), they’ve become seen as an integral part of my ‘look’, and, well, I am a celebrity, I’ve got to keep up appearances when out in public!

“Sexy…” Kayla sings as I emerge from my bedroom and do a twirl for her. “Everything about her’s so sexy…”

“Hehe!” I giggle as I all but skip toward the sofa and sit down, keeping my nylon-covered knees pressed tightly together. “You- you mean that, I take it?”

“Duh!” Kayla retorts, giggling as she gives me a long, deep kiss, while I gently stroke the exposed skin on her back. “…We should probably get going soon.”

“…To the gift exchange, I assume?” I say, giggling as the tiny girl gives me a playful shove.

“You know people are always there early,” Kayla says. “Kinda like watching my table growing over the course of the afternoon…”

“Huh,” I reply. “I always like going late and seeing a huge pile already there waiting for me…” I bite my lip as Kayla stares at me with a confused look on her face, before breaking down in a fit of giggle.

“I take two steps forward-“ Kayla sings.

“And I take two steps back,” I sing along.

“We come together ‘cause opposites attract!” The two of us sing together, before we both collapse into each other’s arms in a fit of giggles.

“Ahh,” Kayla chuckles. “One thing’s for sure, I’m never going to get THIS from a boy, hehe!”

“Damn straight,” I say with a smug smile, before opening an app on my phone and summoning a taxi to our flat.

Just over half an hour later, Kayla and I- and our large, heavy sacks of presents- are bouncing with excitement as we step through the front door of the vast London home of Charlotte Hartley & her family- which, as we’re reminded when we see the hostess herself, will soon be growing!

“Hi, yummy mummy to be!” Kayla giggles as she rushes over to Charlotte and exchanges a quick hug with her, before gently resting her hand on the 26 year old woman’s abdomen. “How many months is it now?”

“4 down, 5 to go!” Charlotte giggles. “Though they might bring them out early, as they’re, well, ‘them’, hehe!”

“So cool,” I whisper, instinctively reaching to place my hand on top of Kayla’s, before pausing and allowing her to withdraw hand before placing mine onto Charlotte’s abdomen. “You know the genders yet?”

“No, not for another month,” Charlotte sighs. “Really, REALLY got my fingers crossed for two girls.”

“Well, duh!” Kayla giggles. “Any chance ‘daddy’ can come and give us a hand with our present bags? Nearly ripped my arm off carrying it from the taxi…”

“Keith! Mikey!” Charlotte yells, her grin growing in smugness as the two tall young men come jogging toward us with a playful spring in their step.

“Yes, ma’am!” Mikey says with a mock salute that makes the pregnant woman giggle and roll her eyes.

“Care to put those muscles to good use and help Steph and Kayla with their bags?” Charlotte asks with a pleading, feminine pout.

“Ah, how could I ever say no?” Keith giggles, grabbing Kayla’s bag while Mikey grabs mine.

“Wow!” Mikey chuckles as he lifts the sack. “This is almost as heavy as I am! I love it. Hope there’s one in here for me?”

“Naturally,” I say with a coy smile, which fades as my memory of Mikey’s present come back to me. “Actually… Think I got you and Krystie a joint present this year… Sorry.”

“…Meh, same difference,” Mikey says, his voice indicating that he would’ve shrugged it off if his arms weren’t being weighed down with several dozen Christmas presents. “That’s been happening a lot, actually, me and Krystie seem to be getting mostly couple’s presents this year.” The tall, long-haired man gestures toward one of the tables at the side of the vast function room- which, on closer examination, is revealed to be two smaller tables that have been pushed together, one of them bearing the name ‘Mikey Dawson’ while the other table’s nameplate reads ‘Krystie Fullerton’, and several presents have been strategically placed so that they’re straddling the gap between the tables. My eyes, however, are more drawn to the table next to Krystie’s, which bears the nameplate ‘Maria Dawson’- and has twice as many presents as her parents combined!

“Naturally, I didn’t forget Maria either!” I giggle.

“NO ONE forgets Maria!” Mikey says with the proud smile of a new father. “Think me and Krys have got about four times as many presents as are in that pile. Then again, it IS her first Christmas.”

“I’m guessing her presents include a toy guitar and a dress-up tutu?” I ask, referring to the baby’s parents’ professions.

“Good quote-unquote guess,” Mikey giggles. “Think everyone’s gone all out this year on the new arrivals. I know there’s someone in particular who’s happy about that…” I follow Mikey’s eyes to a corner of the room, where three very unexpected figures are stood- my eldest brother, his partner and their baby daughter, my namesake. “Don’t worry,” Mikey assures me. “We made sure that the nameplates say ‘Stephanie’ and ‘Stephi’ so as to avoid confusion. You can also tell your pile as it’ll be about three times smaller than your niece’s, heh!”

“Good job I didn’t bring my gifts for Stephi,” I retort. “We’d probably have filled the entire room!”

“Glad to hear it!” Mikey chuckles. “Want me to deal out your presents for you, if you, you know, want to talk to Tom?”

“Please,” I say, leaving the long-haired man to his task as I head over to where the family are stood, dishing out presents of their own.

“Oh, hello!” Amanda giggles as she sees me approach. “Say hi to your Aunt Steph, Stephi!”

“Hey, cutie!” I giggle as the seven month old girl gurgles in her mother’s arms, before sharing quick, awkward hugs with both of her parents. “I’ve got to admit, I never thought I’d see the two- well, the three of you at one of these, heh!”

“Just ‘cause she isn’t one yet, doesn’t mean she can’t get to know her future best friends better,” Tom replies with a smirk. “And Danny called last week, said that she was going to get loads of presents from the others, so… Yeah. Almost makes me feel, you know, ‘inadequate’…”

“Ugh, this again,” Amanda sighs.

“Umm…?” I mumble.

“Tom feels ‘less of a man’ because his rich, famous friends have bought more presents for his daughter than he has,” Amanda explains as my brother lets out a long, tired sigh.

“Hope when he says that, he’s not including his rich, famous sister,” I say, placing my hands on my hips and pouting deeply.

“It’s different if you’re party of the family,” Tom says quietly. “So you and Kayla are both fi-“

“Shh!” I hiss, silencing my brother, who lets out a long, tired sigh.

“Still not told anyone else, then?” Tom asks with an accusing stare.

“We will when the time is right,” I reply. “When we’re sure we know where we’re going with the relationship, then we’ll tell everyone. It’s not really as simple as you’re making out, not when you’ve got a hundred reporters ready and willing to make you headline news at the drop of a hat.”

“Oh I get that,” Tom says. “But I’m not talking about going public, I just mean telling your friends. And many of them know just what a pain being public interest can be, right?”

“When we’re ready,” I say.

“Fine, fine,” Tom says, holding his hands up in mock-surrender. “You’re both adults, I guess, I’m not going to tell you how to live your lives, I’ve got my own Steph for that.” Despite myself, I giggle when Amanda gives my brother a playful punch in his arm. “We’ve not got your presents here- yours or Kayla’s- we’ll drop them round on Christmas Day itself, okay?”

“Sure- we’ll drop yours around at the same time,” I say, before leaning in to give my brother a quick, awkward hug, followed by a slightly less awkward, slightly longer hug for my future sister-in-law. I let out a long sigh as I head toward the bar to get myself a drink, only to groan when I discover the identity of the barman.

“Hello to you too, sis,” Danny says with a smug grin.

“Seriously?” I sigh.

“I know,” Danny chuckles. “As if I’m not going to be busy enough tonight at the pub, what with it being the last Saturday before Christmas…”

“Poor you,” I snort as my brother pours me a glass of white wine. “Rachel at work, then?”

“Yep,” Danny replies. “I got here early. Nearly got here before Charlotte herself, heh. Dished out all our presents early. Including yours and Kayla’s- we’re going to Rachel’s parents’ place on Christmas morning so I dunno if we’ll see each other.”

“Thanks,” I whisper. “We- we’ll drop off our presents to you at some point.”

“If only there was a big get-together just before Christmas where people could exchange presents, eh?” Danny teases.

“Shut up,” I snort. “Haven’t even found my table yet, heh.”

“It’s just around the corner,” Danny says. “Where the beige sofa usually is.”

“Thanks,” I say, taking my drink and heading away from the bar.

“Seriously?” Danny says with a smug grin. “We might not see each other before Christmas and no hug for me? Tom got one…” I sigh as I lean over the bar and give my brother a gentle hug- though a much less awkward one than I shared with my oldest brother. “Amanda got one, too…”

“Yeah, but Rachel isn’t here, is she?” I retort.

“I’ll pass it on to her,” Danny says, keeping his arms open. I let out a long sigh and roll my eyes, but I lean in for another hug, before hastily grabbing my wine and heading to our table, where Mikey is waiting for me with an empty sack.

“All done!” The long-haired musician says with a goofy grin.

“Hope you didn’t throw any of them,” I tease. “Stuart’s been telling me how much you’ve been getting into American Football since we saw that match at Twickenham…”

“Skol!” Mikey cheers. “And no, I was as gentle as a- well, as a gentleman, heh!”

“I’ll take your word for it,” I say with a grin as Mikey jogs off to greet the latest arrival to the exchange. I’m only granted a few seconds of respite, however, before I’m approached by another couple of my friends.

“Merry Christmas!” The familiar refined American accent of Jessica Tyler says as she and her fiancée exchange tight, feminine hugs with me.

“Merry Christmas!” I giggle. “Or should I say ‘Happy Holidays’?”

“No you shouldn’t!” Jessica giggles. “Hated that enough when I was actually living in America, hehe!”

“Speaking of, are you flying out tomorrow?” I ask.

“We wish,” Paige snorts in her thick Glaswegian accent.

“Been scheduled on flights all over the hol- all over the Christmas period,” Jessica sighs. “Today’s the last day we both have free until after the New Year.”

“Ugh, that sucks,” I sigh.

“Meh, someone’s got to serve the Christmas commuters their drinks,” Jessica shrugs.

“Even though we don’t even get time and a half for it,” Paige spits. “Still, no’ mind. There’ll be other holiday seasons. And we’ll just have tae open our pressies tonight, hehe!”

“Especially as most of our presents are ‘joint’!” Jessica laughs. “Speaking of- and speaking of the States- do you know if the presents we sent to Minnesota got there safe?”

“Umm… Think Nikki was dealing with that, you’ll need to ask her,” I reply. “Should be okay, though, she sent it in plenty of time.”

“Ooh, and speaking of couples of presents…” Paige teases, pointing to my table- or rather, to where my table has been pushed next to Kayla’s, and the presents that are straddling both tables in a very familiar way. “Is love in the air as well as the cold?”

“No comment,” I say with a smirk that the Scottish girl will hopefully take as me simply teasing them. Fortunately, before they can reply, we’re interrupted by someone whose arrival would have sent a shiver down my spine mere months ago, but right now, I’m actually happy to see.

“Hello, fellow fellowship members!” Jamie giggles as she turns around and shows off the tattoo on her shoulder blade that Jessica and I also have on our bodies. “And yes, that includes you Paige, you’re as much a member of this family as any of us.”

“Thanks,” Paige says with a giggle. “Reckon we might be getting tattoos of our own soon anyway, hehe!”

“Okay…” Jamie replies. “You just- you just go ahead and be enigmatic, then, hehe!”

“Can do,” Paige giggles as she links fingers with her fiancée and heads off toward their growing pile of presents.

“You’ve done well this year, then,” Jamie teases as she stares at my present pile.

“I’ve got no complaints,” I reply with a smug grin. “My pile’s kinda pathetic compared to the OTHER ‘Stephanie Abbott’, though! Though I guess you’d know a thing or two about that…” The blonde woman giggles excitedly as I point across the room to the modest pile of gifts on her table- and the vast pile of gifts on the table whose nameplate reads ‘Olivia Milton’!

“Yep!” Jamie says, clapping her hands together excitedly. “I’ve been talking to Krystie and Viks about it, we’re all really excited about our first Christmas as parents, hehe!”

“Even though Olivia is TOTALLY overshadowing you?” I tease.

“Good!” Jamie chuckles. “Ahh… You’ll understand when you have kids of your own.”

“…Kinda more ‘if’ than ‘when’,” I mumble.

“Aww, don’t be like that…” Jamie sighs. “You- you had sperm frozen, right?”

“Some, yeah,” I shrug. “Kinda need to find an egg to put it in, though.”

“Trust me, all you need to do is ask and you’ll get, like, a dozen volunteers,” Jamie says with a warm smile. “I know it’s easy for me to say, but if I had any eggs, and, you know, somewhere to put them…”

“Thanks,” I say with a warm smile, as I know that Jamie almost certainly genuinely meant what she said.

“One thing about being a family, though,” Jamie says while pointing across the room, where our friend Ricky is carefully placing a present on the join between her and her husband’s table. “You do kinda miss getting your own presents, heh.”

“I guess,” I shrug, before internally grimacing as Jamie glances at my table- or rather, the join between mine and Kayla’s tables.

“Ooh, looks like you won’t need to guess much longer,” Jamie teases, gently fingering the label of one of the gifts that reads ‘to Stephanie and Kayla’. “Guess as you’re living together, it’s easier for people to do gifts this way, heh.”

“Umm, yeah…” I say, before my cheeks start to redden as my girlfriend approaches us, fresh from delivering all of her presents.

“There you are,” Kayla says with an accusing stare. “If only I had a big, strong young man helping ME dish out all my presents, I’d probably have been done ages ago too…”

“Umm, Kayla?” Jamie sighs, gesturing around the room. “We’re not exactly short of big, strong young men, hehe! Basically, you can just take your pick!” Thanks for wording it like THAT, I think to myself.

“…It’s okay,” Kayla says with a giggle, letting us both know that she was only teasing us. “I actually prefer giving out all the presents myself, it’s, you know, the personal touch, that sort of thing?”

“Yeah, I think I get what you mean,” Jamie says with a smile. “I’ll stick with the ‘strong young man’ method if you don’t mind!”

“Speaking of, where is he?” Kayla asks.

“Being a good dad,” Jamie replies. “Well, hopefully, anyway, hehe! Seriously though, he’s in the kitchen, feeding Olivia… Did you want to speak to him or something?”

“Umm, no,” Kayla says. “Just- the band kinda- kinda got him a special present, that’s all. For all the help he gave us rehearsing for the tours…”

“’Him’ and not ‘us’?” Jamie asked with a mock pout, which quickly gave way to a giggle. “It’s okay, you spend all day working with him, I guess. Lucky I’m not the jealous type, heh!”

“Yeah,” I laugh nervously.

“Though it looks like we’re not the only ‘us’ in here who are getting presents…” Jamie teases, showing the ‘to Steph and Kayla’ label to my girlfriend- whose eyes go as wide as dinner plates.

“Who- who did-“ Kayla stammers, startling Jamie and making my anxiety levels rise.

“Umm… Deep breaths?” Jamie responds with a confused giggle. “It’s from Nat and Zoe, probably something for your flat, I dunno. Just be thankful that you’re not getting yet ANOTHER leotard from Zoe this year, heh!”

“Yeah, heh,” Kayla replies, taking a deep breath to calm herself down. “Actually stuff like that would be welcome, we had a clear out of clutter last month when we were putting up our Christmas decorations…”

“Wish I’d known THAT a few weeks ago,” Jamie teases. “Ooh, actually, Steph, that reminds me- did you get a present this year for Laura and Ashley?”

“Yep,” I reply. “Dropped them at their parents last week. Well- got Nikki to, hehe! Janet and Ellie too. And Alexa and Jenny. This has been an expensive Christmas, hehe!”

“’Tis better to give than to receive,” Jamie shrugs, bringing a smile to mine and my girlfriend’s faces.

Those smiles stay on our faces for the rest of the exchange, even as- in keeping with tradition- me, Kayla, Becca and Adeola are ushered to the front of the room to sing a medley of popular Christmas songs. My nerves start to rattle a little when Kayla and I are all but forced to do a duet, but the song at least is ‘Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree’ rather than something more suggestive, like ‘All I Want for Christmas Is You’- Becca does the honours with that particular one, making sure to show off her sparkling engagement ring throughout the entire song!

Kayla and I- and our ridiculously huge pile of presents- choose to leave the party shortly after our ‘set’ ends and ‘The Celestials’ take over onstage, with Stuart and Mikey doing a very passable guitar duet of Mike Oldfield’s ‘In Dulci Jubilo’ as we climb into our taxi.

“Ahh,” Kayla sighs, letting out a VERY loud sigh of relief as she slumps onto the back seat of the car.

“That bad, eh?” I tease.

“God, when we were talking to Jamie…” Kayla sighs. “Genuinely thought we were going to be, you know, outed. And if anyone has form when it comes to ‘outing’ people…”

“Welcome to the last three years of my life,” I chuckle. “But- but, you know, seriously… Would it hurt to tell her? I mean, Nat already knows, so does Zoe most likely, what with that gift they’ve got us, and Nikki and Sarah know…”

“When- when I’m- when WE’RE a bit more, you know, ‘sure’…” Kayla mumbles.

“You know she will be PISSED off if she finds out we’ve been leaving her in the dark,” I say.

“Her problem,” Kayla says, before resting her head on my shoulder. “Can we not talk about Jamie, please? Kinda ruins the mood, heh.”

“Can we talk about her daughter instead?” I ask with a sly grin. “And then segue to my niece? I trust you’ve got her a boatload of presents, I mean, it is her first Christmas, after all?”

“Well- duh,” Kayla giggles. “SO looking forward to spending Christmas day with your family, and yes, both ‘Stephanie Abbott’s are the reason why, hehe! Kinda wish I had nephews or nieces of my own…”

“Stephi’s as good as, right?” I ask.

“’Course,” Kayla shrugs. “Gonna get an early night when I get in, reckon you should too, got an early morning tomorrow to get down to Southampton.”

“Yeah, I guess,” I say, trying to relax as I slide an arm around Kayla’s tiny waist.

I ‘obey instructions’ when we arrive home just after 7pm, only staying up long enough to watch some TV (including the all-important Strictly grand final) before scrubbing away my make-up, changing into my nightie and climbing into bed… My own bed, in my own bedroom, by myself yet again.

However, I’m not alone the following morning, when I’m woken up by the familiar feel of a gentle breath of air on my earlobe.

“Mmph,” I grunt as I slowly open my eyes, before smiling tiredly at the sight of my pyjama-clad girlfriend hovering over me. “What is it with you and Sunday mornings, anyway?”

“Merry Christmas Eve!” Kayla giggles, giving me a quick kiss. “Get up and get dressed, taxi’ll be here in a few minutes!”

“Dibs on the shower!” I say, making the tiny blonde girl playfully groan with frustration as I head through to the bathroom.

Unlike yesterday’s look, which had to be immaculate (the gift giving is surprisingly ‘public’- there were even paparazzi camped outside Charlotte’s house), I opt for a more subdued look today. I still wear a full face of make-up, but it’s subtle, subdued, highlighting my features rather than dominating them. My long hair is tied back into a ponytail, and my attire consists of a very non-descript long-sleeved bodysuit, a pair of dark black tights and a very short butt-hugging skirt, the sight of which makes my girlfriend playfully wolf whistle after I step out of my bedroom and do a slow twirl.

“Hubba hubba!” Kayla cheers.

“I look about as plain as it’s possible to get,” I argue as I adjust the hem of my skirt.

“Mmm,” Kayla shrugs. “Still cute, though!” I giggle as the tiny blonde girl gives me a playful kiss on my lips, before disappearing into the bathroom herself. Twenty minutes later, Kayla confidently strides into the living room wearing a tight red turtleneck sweater and a pair of tight black jeans.

“Very sexy!” I say, making my girlfriend giggle bashfully.

“’Very grown-up’ is the idea,” Kayla says as she slips her feet into a pair of ankle boots with a chunky 4” heel. “You know my parents, they go back and forth between seeing me as another adult or ‘their little girl’… Kinda prefer them to settle on option one as soon as possible.”

“So the pink pyjamas are staying at home, then?” I tease, laughing as Kayla replies with a playful shove.

“Just ‘cause it’s on the coast, it doesn’t mean Southampton’s gonna be any warmer,” Kayla says, before a grimace and a look of almost terror spreads across her face. “Though my parents will be expecting me to keep warm some- some other way, you know…?”

“…Hot water bottle?” I ask, before my eyes widen as I cotton on to what she means. “…Oh.”

“Yep,” Kayla says.

“Well- it’s probably best it happens sooner rather than later, right?” I ask. “God knows we’ve been ducking this issue so much, right?”

“You’re making it sound like a flu jab, or getting a tooth filled,” Kayla retorts. “But I guess- I guess you’re right, I mean, it SHOULD be something we’re both excited about, right?”

“Well- well it’s okay to be nervous, I guess,” I say. “I mean, we- the two of us- you- you know it’s the, um, the furthest-“

“I know,” Kayla says softly as she links her fingers with mine. “It’s okay to be nervous as long as we’re not scared, right?”

“Yeah,” I whisper.

“And- and you definitely, you know…” Kayla mumbles. “You- you ‘want’ a woman’s body, right? By which I mean-“

“Yes, yes I do,” I say, leaning in to give my girlfriend a slow, deep kiss. “And- and do you ‘want’ a woman’s body?”

“…I want Stephanie’s body,” Kayla replies, making me sigh.

“That’s not what I asked,” I mumble.

“Yes, yes it is,” Kayla says, making me smile even as another question flashes into my brain.

“Even if I had a vagina between my legs?” I ask, frowning as Kayla pauses.

“If it was your vagina, then yes,” Kayla says- though this answer is far from comforting.

“I see,” I mumble.

“Steph,” Kayla sighs, gently taking my chin in her hand. “I fancy YOU, okay? Gender doesn’t come into it. We’ve grown closer over the last few years, and now you’re the one I want to be with.”

“…Gender kinda DOES come into it with me,” I mumble.

“Does it, though?” Kayla asks. “How many women have YOU dated before?” I open my mouth to reply, but I have no words- as Kayla is correct in what she says. Before her, I’d never even really fancied any women. Then again, before Stuart and Kurt, it’s not like I’d really fancied any men, either…

“…So you’re happy being LGBT, then?” I ask.

“Don’t really see what labels have to do with it,” Kayla replies. “I’m a woman in a relationship with another woman. If that makes me ‘L’, whatever. If it makes me ‘B’ ‘cause I’ve dated men before, also whatever. Might even prefer sex with a woman to sex with a man. God knows you smell a lot better than any of my previous boyfriends, hehe!”

“And what if- what if I just don’t like sex?” I ask.

“Trust me, you will,” Kayla says with a smile, giving me a gentle kiss as a car’s horn sounds outside. “Think that’s our taxi.”

“Okay, then,” I say, slipping my feet into a pair of cute flats (with no ‘appearances’ to keep up, I can leave ‘Steffieboots’ behind for one day), grabbing the travel suitcase I packed last night and following my girlfriend down to our taxi.

A short while later, we’re getting onto a train at Waterloo Station, and a short while- and several selfie requests- later, we’re getting into a taxi at Southampton station, which whisks us to the posh suburban home of Kayla’s parents.

“Hellooooo!” Kayla calls as she opens the front door. Almost immediately, the two of us are wrapped in tight hugs from Kayla’s parents, both of whom have wide, genuine grins on their faces.

“Merry Christmas Kayla!” Kayla’s mother cheers. “Merry Christmas, Steph!”

“Thanks, Charlene!” I giggle as I return the middle-aged woman’s hug. “Thanks for having me on Christmas Eve.”

“Least we could do,” Kayla’s father says with a smile. “Especially now that you and Kayla are, umm…” I grimace as the festive nature of the greeting immediately vanishes.

“…What Gary means,” Kayla’s mother says, “is thank you for letting us come to Christmas dinner tomorrow!”

“You’d- you’d kinda need to thank my parents for that,” I chuckle. “And thanks in advance for giving us a lift up to London tomorrow…”

“Enough thanks!” Gary chuckles, lightening the mood inside the house. “This is Christmas, not Thanksgiving! And this is Britain, not America! We don’t even DO Thanksgiving!”

“Some shops in London, that’s more literal than you might think!” Kayla laughs as we drop our bags in the hallway and crash on the sofa.

“Well- welcome back to civilisation for the time being!” Gary says with a hearty laugh. “I saw some photos of the two of you at the big gift-giving party at your friend’s house.”

“Yep!” Kayla giggles. “Not quite as, well, ‘loud’ as the usual Saturday parties, heh.”

“Probably because of, you know, kids,” I shrug. “Like, my niece was there…”

“Hope you’re spoiling her rotten this Christmas!” Charlene chuckles.

“And that goes for both of you!” Gary interjects. “It’s her first Christmas, isn’t it?”

“Yep!” I say. “And yes, I’ve probably spent more on her than on anyone else, heh! Well, apart from, umm, Kayla…”

“Umm, same here,” Kayla says in a voice barely louder than a mumble.

“Good to hear it,” Caroline says with a smirk, which fades as an awkward silence fills the room. “I’ve, umm, I’ve got your room ready…”

“Thanks,” Kayla mumbles, which only serves to trigger an even more awkward silence. “We, umm, we brought presents with us…”

“Glad to hear that!” Caroline laughs. “Worried tomorrow morning might be a bit, umm, dull, heh. We’ve got gifts for both of you too, obviously… A few- a few of them are for the both of you, is that okay?” Kayla and I exchange a brief look, one that says ‘oh god, not here as well’, before smiling politely and nodding.

“That’ll be fine,” I say, barely suppressing a giggle.

“…Go on, what’s the joke?” Gary asks.

“Nothing, honestly,” Kayla says, before sighing. “…We’ve got a few more ‘both of us’ presents waiting at home, some from the people who already know about us…”

“Only been going out two months and you’re already like a married couple, eh?” Gary teases, making both of us blush as we gently slide an arm around each other’s waist. “How- how many of your friends do actually know about you, then?”

“Not counting family and partners of family… Umm, four,” I mumble.

“…Two couples,” Kayla interjects in a mumble even quieter than mine.

“I get not going public yet,” Charlene says. “But you could surely tell your friends about this? I mean, many of them are celebrities too, so-“

“We-“ Kayla says, interrupting her mother. “We don’t want- umm… Any fuss…”

“We- we want to make sure we know where we are in the relationship before telling everyone,” I say.

“You’ve had two months, how much longer do you need?” Gary asks, before being silenced by a stern stare from his wife.

“You know it isn’t that easy, Gary,” Charlene says. “What with all the two have been through over the last two years. Though I am surprised that you feel you can tell some of your friends but not others.”

“The ones we’ve told are in- well, they’re kinda like us,” Kayla explains. “A transgendered girl going out with a cisgendered girl…” It actually takes me a few seconds to realise that Kayla’s right about this- Nikki and Sarah and Natalie and Zoe could easily fit into the same ‘category’ as me and Kayla, even if the ‘state’ of Nikki’s and Natalie’s transitions are very different from my own- namely, post-op and ‘not taking any steps to physically transition’ respectively. Then again, their relationships are at very different ‘states’ too, with one couple being married and the other engaged…

“They do help out a lot,” I say. “With, umm, advice…”

“And if we tell more people,” Kayla says, “we run the risk of it going public before we’re ready, it only takes one person, you know?”

“It’s your lives,” Gary says. “You’re both adults…”

“Even though we do still have a sense of responsibility toward you,” Charlene interjects. “You’re still our daughter, no matter how old you get, or how rich, or how famous…”

“Thanks,” Kayla whispers.

“And that goes for you too, Steph,” Gary says. “As long as you and Kayla are together, you’re a part of this family too.”

“As long as you and Kayla are FRIENDS, you’re part of this family,” Charlene says, forcing me to bite my lip to prevent tears from flowing from my eyes.

“Thank you,” I whisper in a hoarse, emotional voice.

“Well then,” Gary says. “If you’re part of the family, that means we ought to share a few family traditions with you! And we like our traditions, especially at Christmas, don’t we, Kayla?”

“Depends which ones,” my girlfriend replies with a concerned look on her face.

“This one?” Gary asks, holding up a DVD copy of The Polar Express. A wide grin immediately spreads across my girlfriend’s face, and ten minutes later, the four of are watching the modern classic with eager eyes, marvelling at the graphics, singing along to all the songs and, yes, sniffing back a tear or two when the kid asks Santa for one of the bells from his sleigh.

Other movies follow as morning turns into afternoon and evening, including the Muppet Christmas Carol and Nativity (the Martin Freeman film), all of which Kayla and I sing along to, much to the obvious delight of my girlfriend’s parents!

“Ahh,” Gary laughs as the credits of Elf roll and Kayla and I- having stood up to sing the credits song as a duet- take a bow. “Hope you’re not counting this as one of our Christmas presents, I reckon some people would give their right arm for a private concert from half of Out of Heaven!”

“No, this one’s free,” Kayla says with a smug grin.

“If anything, it’s as much a present for me as it was for you,” I say, giggling as I straighten my skirt and sit back down next to Kayla. “Just being able to have fun singing like this…”

“You- you never got the chance when you were younger?” Charlene asks.

“…Never actually thought of it that way,” I muse. “I was more thinking about work, usually when we’re singing we’re given really strict instructions, lines, tones we have to stick to.”

“We can never really cut back and just sing for fun,” Kayla says. “Not like I used to, anyway!”

“Ah, I remember that first Christmas play you were in when you were at school,” Charlene says, making my girlfriend’s cheeks start to redden.

“Oh?” I ask. “This sounds like a story…”

“That’s the thing, it actually wasn’t,” Gary chuckles. “She got up on stage, sang her part, then stepped off. She wasn’t even in any special costume, just a smart dress- well, smart for a six year old, anyway. But we knew even then that she had a real talent.”

“She’d always sing along to every movie we watched, just like you two did just now,” Charlene says with a happy sigh. “When she was in school, she’d hang around with a group of girls and pretend that they were Girls Aloud, making up dance routines…”

“Okay, we are officially in ‘really embarrassing’ territory now,” Kayla says. “Do we have any more DVDs? Or do you have Amazon Prime?”

“Oh, relax,” Gary teases his daughter. “I’ll be sure to ask Pete and Sam tomorrow if they have any embarrassing stories about when Stephanie was a- a girl…” Naturally, an awkward silence fills the room at this faux pas- and it’s obvious that I’m going to have to be the one to break the silence.

“I’ll, um, I’ll warn them,” I mumble, cringing at my feeble effort to make the situation less awkward.

“Steph, I’m sorry, I-“ Gary sighs.

“Honestly, don’t worry about it,” I say.

“I mean, it- it’s just so easy to forget,” Gary says.

“That is kinda the idea!” I say, smiling as I earn a chuckle from the embarrassed older man.

“I guess,” Gary laughs. “Umm, think I have another DVD around here somewhere…” Kayla and I both grin as Gary searches his shelves for another Christmas DVD, eventually settling on the Santa Clause, but it’s obvious from the look that she gives me that she is utterly mortified by her parent’s faux pas- more so than any of my other friends would be, come to think of it.

Kayla’s mood seems to recover throughout the rest of the evening as we relax in the living room and eat a delicious meal of roast ham and home-made potato salad. Eventually, though, evening turns to night, and after Gary shares a very cute story of how Kayla once stayed up all night waiting for Santa, the four of us head to bed. As we’re getting ready for bed, however, Kayla stops trying to hide her frustration at her parents.

“Ugh, can’t believe my dad,” Kayla sighs as she nonchalantly removes her turtleneck and jeans, standing in front of me in just her black bra and thong. “Nice reminder of why I only very rarely come home…”

“Nah, he’s alright,” I shrug as I step out of my tight skirt. “Not like I don’t have my own embarrassing parents, heh, and I’ll trade your dad for Danny any day of the week! And, you know, it’s actually kinda a compliment when someone, you know, ‘forgets’…”

“I guess,” Kayla shrugs as she turns her back and removes her underwear, giving me an unrestricted view of her petite, naked body- or at the very least, the back of it. “I just- I just want to, you know, get some sleep…” I bite my lip at Kayla’s mention of the word ‘sleep’- it’s not the only thing we were planning to do in bed tonight…

“…T- together?” I ask, making Kayla pause. “In the same bed? Because, you know, we were going to use this trip to- to-“

“I- I’m really not in the mood,” Kayla sighs. “I- I’m sorry, Steph.”

“Be- because of your dad?” I ask, confused by Kayla’s sudden reluctance.

“Umm…” Kayla mumbles.

“Kayla, what- what’s wrong?” I ask, gently placing my hands on Kayla’s shoulders and recoiling with shock when that simple action makes the tiny girl jump with shock. “Oh my god… Really, are- are you alright? Have I done something?”

“No,” Kayla says, turning around with a wide smile on her face. “I- I’m fine.” As if to prove her point, Kayla rises onto her tip toes and gives me a long, deep kiss, penetrating my mouth with her tongue and sending tiny lightning bolts of electricity through my lips with her touch. Without breaking the kiss, she reaches down and unfastens the snap crotch of my bodysuit, slowly raising it over my head as we fall onto her bed...

As I lay on my back in Kayla’s bed, my whole body tingling and covered in patches of fine sweat, I try to process what just happened. It feels almost unreal, but the fact is that I, at the age of 21 years and 11 months, am finally no longer a virgin. I just shared myself with a woman I adore in the most intimate way possible… And yet the whole thing left me feeling deeply unsatisfied. We were passionate, but almost reluctantly so. At times it felt like I was kissing my sister, and there were several times when Kayla had difficulty even touching me. For all her talk of being happy to be in a same-gender relationship as long as I’m the one she’s in the relationship with, Kayla seemed to almost be having second thoughts. One thing’s definitely for certain- we now need to talk a lot more than we did half an hour ago.

“Hey,” I whisper to my tired girlfriend. “You still awake?”

“Mmph,” Kayla grumbles into her pillow, which naturally does nothing to set my mind at ease.

“…That a yes?” I hesitantly ask.

“Yes,” Kayla sighs. “Steph, I- I’ve never really been good at pillow talk…”

“Still, though,” I say. “We should talk…”

“Can’t it wait until morning?” Kayla moans.

“Tomorrow’s Christmas Day,” I retort. “That, and we’ll be spending all day either with your parents or with mine… And I, you know, want to talk when everything’s, like, fresh in my mind…”

“…So talk then,” Kayla shrugs.

“Okay then,” I say, slightly taken aback by Kayla’s uncharacteristic bluntness. “You- you didn’t enjoy that, did you?”

“What makes you say that?” Kayla retorts.

“You acting like I’ve just pissed in your corn flakes,” I say, frowning as this doesn’t even elicit a smile from my girlfriend. “Kayla, I- I’ve never seen you so stressed out, so anxious… I want to know what’s wrong, what I can do to make things better.”

“What, as my girlfriend or my best friend?” Kayla asks.

“I thought I was both,” I retort.

“…You are,” Kayla sighs. “You- you want the truth?”

“Ironic as it is, yes please,” I say.

“You…” Kayla says, before letting out a long sigh. “You’re a lot- a lot more girly than I was expecting.”

“What tipped you off?” I ask. “Was it the long hair, the lack of muscles, the breasts, maybe?”

“I- I dunno,” Kayla sighs. “I dunno what I was expecting. Maybe I thought that it’d just be, you know, normal only with a few differences…”

“…You were expecting ‘Steve’?” I ask. “I know you’re one of the people who have met, you know, ‘him’…”

“No,” Kayla insists. “I entered this relationship with ‘Stephanie’, not ‘Steve’. And even I sometimes, you know, ‘forget’, but- but I- ugh, I dunno. I really don’t know how to put this into words, I’m sorry, Steph, I- ugh.”

“You still consider yourself to be straight, don’t you?” I ask.

“…Maybe from a sexual point of view?” Kayla replies uncertainly. “But it’s not like any of the guys I had sex with were, you know, ‘earth rocking’…”

“Sex- sex isn’t everything though, right?” I ask, biting my lip as my girlfriend pauses before answering.

“Well- no, it doesn’t have to be,” Kayla says. “Was- was it- ugh, can’t believe I’m going to ask this… Was it good for you, Steph?”

“Couldn’t have worded that differently?” I ask, smirking as I earn a genuine giggle from the tiny blonde girl.

“Truthfully,” Kayla insists. “No more lies!”

“Couldn’t have worded THAT differently either?” I snort, before taking a deep breath. “Honestly? I didn’t enjoy it as much as I was expecting. Then again… I didn’t know what to expect.”

“And obviously I didn’t have any, you know, ‘indicator’ of how things were going…” Kayla sighs.

“’Indicator’?” I ask. “So, what, you flick it one way and it makes that nipple light up or something?” I have to suppress a giggle as Kayla lets out a loud snort of laughter.

“That would make it more fun,” Kayla giggles. “Okay… I guess that, you know, the ‘S’ word… It isn’t- it isn’t what I was hoping for. And I’m not, you know, in a rush to do it again…”

“So- so are we-“ I ask, before relaxing as Kayla silences me with a long, gentle kiss.

“Sex ISN’T everything,” Kayla says. “And I- I like being with you, Steph. I like being your girlfriend. And- and I think I love you, Steph.”

“I think I love you too,” I reply, leaning in to give Kayla another kiss, not a passionate, steamy kiss, but a soft, loving kiss. Love, after all, is far, far greater than lust. I smile as I wrap my arms around Kayla’s body in a tight, loving cuddle, which elicits a happy giggle from the tiny girl.

“This is perfect,” Kayla says sleepily. “Merry Christmas, Steph.”

“Merry Christmas, Kayla,” I whisper as we slowly fall asleep in each other’s arms.

Naturally, we wake up in the same position early the following morning, but we both get up shortly after waking- not because we don’t want to stay in each other’s arms, but because today is the 25th of December, and we both have a very busy day ahead of us! After both of us have showered (separately), we return to Kayla’s room where we get ready for the day- with both of us again thinking nothing of stripping totally naked in front of each other.

“You know,” I muse as I pull on a comfortable short grey t-shirt dress, followed by a pair of shiny black tights, “that really was one of the best night’s sleep I’ve ever had.”

“Me too,” Kayla replies with a smile as she applies her make-up. “And I think it was the cuddling more than the sex. I’ve always had, you know, ‘problems’ when it came to sleeping in the same bed as a guy… But with you, it- it just felt natural, you know? Comfortable, that sort of thing…”

“Yeah,” I say with a smile. “Definitely won’t be the last time we do THAT, then?”

“Oh- definitely!” Kayla giggles, finishing her make-up and giving me a long kiss. “Merry Christmas, Steph!”

“Merry Christmas, Kayla!” I reply, waiting for my girlfriend to finish dressing in her trademark look of a tight top and a smart pencil skirt before linking my fingers with her and walking downstairs, where we find Gary and Charlene are already awake and laying out our many presents on the sofas in the room.

“Merry Christmas!” Charlene says with a giggle, exchanging hugs with both of us. “So, did- did you two, umm, get a good night’s sleep?”

“…The best,” Kayla replies with a smile.

“Glad to hear it,” Gary says, exchanging quick hugs with both of us before practically forcing us toward our present pile. “Now get opening! Not got long before we need to be on the road. Unless you want to call your parents and tell them we’ll be late, Steph?”

“Pass,” I giggle as I grab a present from the top of my ‘pile’ and tear into the brightly-coloured wrapping paper.

Even though the only presents Kayla and I have here are from Kayla’s parents, we still have plenty to unwrap, including clothes, a couple of DVDs each (including, predictably, my own personal copy of the Polar Express) and a couple of books each. The majority of our presents, though, are ornaments and decorations for our flat, and are labelled as being for both of us- and yet, unlike two days ago, this doesn’t bother us in the slightest. If anything, receiving ‘couples gifts’ actually makes us MORE excited.

After all of our gifts are opened, we load them, followed by ourselves, into Gary and Charlene’s car, and before long we’re heading north on the M3 toward my hometown. Excitement levels inside the car remain high even as we drive through the surprisingly crowded London streets, and before too long we’re pulling up outside the modest suburban house that belongs to my parents.

“Merry Christmas!” My father says with a wide grin as he opens the front door before I even have the chance to get my keys out of my handbag.

“Thanks!” I giggle as I exchange a hug with both of my parents, before heading inside and sharing an awkward hug with my brother, a slightly less awkward hug with my future sister-in-law and a very loving gentle cuddle with my tiny niece.

“Ah, grandchildren,” Gary chuckles as he and his wife follow me and Kayla- who immediately looks embarrassed by her father- into the living room. “Your first?”

“Yep!” dad says with a wide, proud grin.

“Our first Christmas as grandparents, too,” mum interjects. “Probably the only reason we were both able to get today off, heh! Not easy when you both work in a hospital, people don’t simply stop having accidents and illnesses just because it’s Christmas Day.”

“If anything, it’s the opposite, I could tell you a few horror stories!” dad chuckles, before directing me and Kayla to our present pile- which, naturally, pales in comparison to my niece’s! “Go on, you lot, now that everyone’s here, get stuck in!” Naturally, we don’t need to be told twice, and we- along with Tom and Amanda (and technically Stephi) tear into our presents.

Once again, our presents consist mainly of clothes, the occasional bit of jewellery and trinkets for our flat- with all of the latter category coming from presents intended for both myself and Kayla. After all of the presents have been opened (with Stephi’s pile being by far the last to clear), thanks have been exchanged and wrapping paper stuffed into a large refuse sack, Tom and I head into the kitchen to prepare dinner for our families (having been ‘volunteered’ by our parents)- and my brother almost immediately seizes the opportunity to speak to me privately.

“So how’s it going with you and Kayla, then?” Tom asks in his typically blunt manner. “You seem pretty happy today…”

“It’s okay,” I shrug. “Got no complaints.”

“When I said ‘you look happy’,” Tom clarifies, “I mean ‘you look a lot surer about the relationship than you were two days ago’. You know what I’m going to ask next, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I say with a long sigh.

“And?” Tom asks.

“And we’ll tell everyone when we’re both ready,” I say. “I can’t go blabbing about it behind Kayla’s back, that’d do way more harm than good!”

“Oh, definitely,” Tom says. “Even if that was the way I found out. And mum, and dad, and Danny, and at least two of your friends…”

“Funny way of agreeing with me,” I mumble as I check our oven to see how our extra-large turkey is coming.

“I’m just pointing out the obvious,” Tom retorts. “’Cause god knows you need that from time to time. If you want to tell everyone, great. If it’s Kayla that doesn’t, you may want to ask her why.”

Naturally, Tom’s words resonate in my mind and keep me distracted throughout the rest of Christmas Day. Kayla’s parents leave shortly after dinner (and the Queen’s speech) and Tom, Amanda and Stephi depart just after the Strictly Christmas special, leaving just me, Kayla and my parents in the house- which makes me focus even more on what Tom said.

"So, you two staying the night?" Mum asks, snapping me out of my 'trance'.

"Hmm?" I reply.

"Are you two going to stay over tonight?" Mum asks. "Because it's already late, you don't want to be out in the dark and both your father and I have had a drink tonight..."

"Umm..." I say, looking at Kayla- who looks as uneasy at the prospect as I feel.

"We- we'll get a taxi back, it's okay," Kayla says.

"On Christmas night?" Mum replies. "That'll cost a fortune..."

"We have presents at our place that we haven't opened yet, anyway," I say. "Like, umm, presents to each other..."

"...Oh," mum says. "Well- well at least let me call your brother to see if he can pick you up. He said he'd be dropping in later this evening anyway..."

"Thanks," I reply as Kayla smiles sympathetically at me. The blonde girl opens her mouth as if to speak, but quickly closes it again, presumably unwilling to talk in front of my mother. However, that does come as some kind of relief, though- she needs to talk to me just as much as I need to talk to her.

Danny and Rachel arrive a short while later, and after presents (and hugs) are exchanged with them, we hitch a lift with them back to our flat, arriving just after 10pm and immediately crashing onto our sofa with heavy sighs.

"Ah, that is so much better," Kayla chuckles as she kicks off her high-heeled shoes. "Still got a huge pile of presents each, heh! Want to open them tonight or just get to bed now?"

"...Will that be the same bed again?" I ask.

"It- it can be, I guess," Kayla shrugs, making me frown.

"Way to make a girl feel wanted..." I mumble, frowning as Kayla lets out an overdramatic groan.

"Look, Steph, I- I'm really tired," Kayla moans.

"So you don't want to have sex," I say. "That's okay. But do- do you want to at least, you know, cuddle? You said last night you loved it..."

"And I did," Kayla says, the smile returning to her face. "But I- ugh. I just want to sleep in my own bed, you know?"

"Alone in your own bed?" I ask, letting out a long sigh. "It's okay. I know how that feels." And I definitely know how it feels to take a step forward, only to take two steps back...

"I'm sorry, Steph," Kayla whispers.

"It's okay," I shrug. "Before you go to bed, though, you may as well open this." Kayla smiles as I hand her my gift to her- a small, rectangular box.

"Okay then," Kayla says as she examines the gift. "Jewellery, I'm guessing?" I smile as Kayla carefully rips off the wrapping paper and opens the box, revealing a bracelet with six jewels on it. "Okay... It's cute, I guess!"

"Read the card," I say.

"Okay..." Kayla says, reading the enclosed card. "'Decode the bracelet to find the secret message'. Jewellery AND a puzzle?"

"Start with the blue gem," I advise, a wide grin on my face as I reach into one of the drawers of our coffee table.

"Okay," Kayla says, matching each gemstone. "S... T... A... Y... L... A again. St- Stayla?"

"Just like this one," I say, slipping a matching bracelet onto my wrist.

"Oh my god, that's so cute!" Kayla says, slipping on her own bracelet and leaning in to give me a gentle kiss. "Thank you so much."

"Thank YOU," I say, returning my girlfriend's kiss.

"And I like how you did it in code," Kayla says. "So that, you know, if anyone asks, we can just say they're, like, 'BFF bracelets', right?"

"...Yeah," I say, my heart starting to sink again. "Still don't want to tell ANYONE, then? 'Cause I'd have thought last night would make you a lot more 'sure' about the relationship..."

"I- I still have a few things I need to work out, Kayla sighs as she fiddles with her new bracelet."

"'You' or 'we'?" I ask.

"We," Kayla replies instantly. "But we will get there soon, Steph. I promise."

"...Okay," I say, though I'm far from convinced by Kayla's words. Hopefully she'll have got me a mind reading device for Christmas, as that seems to be the only way I'll work out what it is she REALLY wants from this relationship...

"And..." Kayla says with a grin, reaching to her side and passing me my present from her. From the feel of it, it's definitely clothes...

"Okay," I say, ripping open the wrapping paper to discover that Kayla's bought me a dress- though this one is obviously a bespoke dress, knee-length and very form-fitting, and made of a very delicate purple fabric with an unusual pattern stitched into it.

"It's beautiful," I say. Even if it is a lot less 'personal' than my gift...

"Do you like the pattern?" Kayla asks.

"I- I can't quite make it out," I say, squinting at the dress.

"Try looking at it under the light," Kayla says, and to my surprise, the thread in the stitching seems to glow- and clearly spells out the letters 'K' and 'S' in pink and red respectively, but intertwined so that you would only be able to see it if you knew what you were looking for.

"It- it's beautiful," I say, thanking Kayla with a long, deep kiss.

"I commissioned it from Sarah months ago," Kayla says. "Originally it was just going to have the 'S', but after we got together- and because Sarah already knows, obviously- I asked her to, you know, add the 'K' too..."

"It really is brilliant," I say with a genuine grin. "Thank you so, so much."

"Anything," Kayla says with a grin, "for my lover."

"...Still want an early night?" I ask.

"Definitely," Kayla says with a grin. "But- but cuddling only, okay?"

"Sure," I say with a smile. "Your bed or mine?"

"...Yours," Kayla replies. "Whenever we want to, you know, 'cuddle', we alternate beds, okay?"

"Sounds great," I say, kissing my girlfriend one more time before leading her to my room, where within minutes, we're scrubbed clean of make-up, changed into our pyjamas and tucked up together in bed, our bodies keeping each other warm as we gently drift off to sleep.

Even now, though, as I'm at the most content I've felt in this relationship, I can't help but wonder if Kayla and I truly want the same thing. She says she's happy without sex (or with very limited amounts of it), but is she really? And then there's her reluctance to tell our friends, and the 'secret' nature of our gifts to each other... In many ways, Kayla still seems much more like my best friend than my girlfriend. Life was much simpler when that was the case. Maybe that's the way it should've stayed...

“Cheese!” I yell, pulling my widest grin as I and my other bandmates pose for a selfie with the excited young woman.

“Oh my god, thank you so much!” The girl- who I am told is barely eighteen years old- squeaks, before heading into the crowd to find other famous faces to photograph.

“You know, I like the idea, yeah?” Adeola says. “Giving, like, fans the chance to come to these parties…”

“Especially as, if memory serves, that’s how someone became part of this ‘family’ in the first place?” I tease Becca, who rolls her eyes and sighs over-dramatically.

“…Worked, didn’t it?” The brown-haired girl asked, triggering a mass giggle among her bandmates. “Maybe I’ll ask her to come back on Tuesday, just for that remark?”

“Don’t you dare!” I say, earning another mass giggle. The reason I don’t want any ‘interlopers’ going to the party on Tuesday, and the reason there’s a party on Tuesday at all, is because Tuesday is the 23rd of January- aka my 22nd birthday.

Plans for my 22nd birthday party were likely put in place shortly after the end of my 21st birthday party, and it’s the usual suspects- Jamie, Charlotte and Nikki- taking charge of organising it. What’s surprising, though, is that my girlfriend of three months isn’t having anything to do with the party.

In the four weeks since Christmas, when we first became ‘physical’, our relationship has been steady. It hasn’t ‘progressed’, and it certainly hasn’t ‘regressed’ either, it’s been… Steady. Okay. Alright. Not bad. Comfortable, maybe. Kayla and I have only been physical once since our first ‘encounter’ at Christmas, and that was partially due to Kayla drinking more than usual amount (it was our friend Katie’s birthday and Kayla drank two glasses of champagne, which is two more glasses than she would usually drink). And, as with our ‘encounter’ at Christmas, neither of us were particularly ‘satisfied’ afterwards.

I am, however, very satisfied with every other aspect of our relationship, and as far as I can tell, so is Kayla. Our default position on our sofa is cuddled together underneath a quilt (often with videogame controllers in hand), we often sleep together in a non-sexual sense (especially in the cold winter nights) and we share everything with each other, our feelings, our wants for our relationship… Which don’t always match each other’s.

Somehow, nobody new has found out about our relationship since Christmas. Nikki, Sarah, Natalie and Zoe have, as promised, kept their mouths shut, as have our families. Kayla is happy about this, but I’m, to put it bluntly, not. Keeping secrets has not only gone badly for me in the past, but it’s caused stress and has effectively been the source of all of my ‘breakdowns’. It’s a testament to the level of support I get from my family and friends that keeping my transition a secret from them caused more problems than the transition itself, and I’m absolutely convinced that this will be the case for my relationship as well- I just wish that Kayla could see it this way.

“Hey girls!” Jamie says, ending my brief daydream. “Was that Kelsie I just saw you talking to?”

“Yep!” Becca says. “Cool girl, even if she is a bit, you know, ‘eager’.”

“Hmm,” Jamie muses. “Kinda reminds me of someone who got a similar ‘gift’ a few years ago…”

“Oh god,” Becca moans as the rest of us giggle. “Am I going to be reminded of that all night?”

“Nah, we’ll stop when it ain’t funny anymore!” Adeola giggles, making her BFF sigh in an overdramatic way.

“And from my maid of honour, too…” Becca says, before giggling as we wrap her in a tight group hug.

“Though you were going to ask Emma to be maid of honour?” Jamie asks. “You were hers, weren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Becca says with a grimace. “But, you know, we talked, and she knows that me and Addie are WAY closer, so… Yeah.”

“And I don’t have a sister, so I ain’t gonna be a maid of honour any other way,” Adeola says. “Unless you two have got a guy neither of us know about?”

“Oh- no, no guy,” I say, biting my lip to keep from grimacing as I’m technically not lying.

“Steph and Kayla are obviously gonna be each other’s maids of honour anyway,” Becca says as I feel my nerves start to jangle. I want to tell my two friends about our relationship so badly. I want to tell EVERYONE about it- but a quick glance to my side reveals just how stressed this conversation is making Kayla…

“Ah, is there a better or more girly topic of conversation than weddings?” Jamie giggles.

“I can think of one,” Becca says with a smug grin. “My little niece, maybe?” The four of us all giggle as a happy, involuntary smile spreads across Jamie’s face at the thought of her baby daughter.

“Okay,” Jamie concedes. “Nothing’s better than that, hehe! Speaking of, I’m going to need to head off in a bit. I know it’s early, but I can’t sleep unless I get my nightly Olivia cuddle, hehe!”

“Make sure you give her one from her auntie!” Becca says with a wide, excited grin.

“Oh, I can probably manage that!” Jamie giggles.

“And one from her three other aunties too!” Adeola says.

“If I give her a cuddle from everyone, I’ll probably never put her down!” Jamie retorts.

“And that’s a problem because…?” Becca asks.

“…Nope, got nothing,” Jamie says, sharing a giggle and a gentle hug with her sister-in-law. “I’ll see you girls later. And by ‘later’ I mean ‘Tuesday’, miss soon-to-be-twenty-two-years-old!” This time, it’s my turn to giggle as I exchange a gentle hug with the woman with whom I had a very strong mutual dislike for months. Right now, though, things between me and Jamie have never been better, which makes my professional and my personal lives a lot easier. How she’ll react when she finds out about me and Kayla, though…

Kayla and I end up leaving the party shortly after Jamie. It’s not a ‘special’ party like a birthday or an anniversary celebration, so it’s no problem if we sneak off earlier than everyone else, and both of us let out heavy, tired sighs when we walk through our flat’s front door.

“We should NOT be obliged to attend parties when we were up early doing interviews,” Kayla moans, kicking off her high-heeled shoes and sprawling out on our sofa.

“Trust me, there are worse jobs!” I retort, making my girlfriend giggle.

“Oh- I wouldn’t give this up for anything,” Kayla says.

“Not even more fame, or more money?” I ask, flinching as my girlfriend gives me a withering stare.

“I have more money than I could ever spend,” Kayla replies. “As for ‘fame’, we spent this evening hanging out with a girl who entered a competition where the top prize was literally hanging out with us. Well, okay, us and the Angels, but still, you know?”

“I know the feeling,” I say with a grin. “Safe to say that three years ago, I never imagine my life being like this, hehe!”

“Oh- me either,” Kayla says.

“I especially never thought that I’d be going out with someone as amazing as you,” I whisper, kneeling down beside the tiny blonde girl and giving her a slow, soft kiss on her lips, something she eagerly reciprocates.

“It’s safe to say you’re not the person I thought I’d end up with,” Kayla whispers. “But I’m glad I did.”

“So am I,” I say, giving Kayla another gentle kiss. “Are- are we still planning on going to the dance class tomorrow morning?”

“Well, showing up after it, yeah,” Kayla says. “I know you want to talk to Natalie and Zoe.”

“Yeah,” I sigh, biting my lip as the petite girl frowns.

“I know it’s not easy for you, keeping it from everyone,” Kayla sighs. “It’s not going to be forever, I promise.” What, the secrecy or the relationship? I think to myself.

“Thanks,” I whisper. “Can- can we at least tell Becca and Addie? Now that we’re recording again, having to lie to them every-“

“They’re not exactly the most ‘discreet’ people in the world, are they?” Kayla asks. “Ugh, Steph, I- you know I hate making you keep things from people. Especially our friends. But- but I need to know, you know? Need to know- need to know if I’m ready to go public with this.”

“Okay,” I whisper, even though deep down inside, I’m NOT okay with this. It’s not just the fact that once again, I’m forced to keep secrets from my friends, or that Kayla knows how damaging this has been to me in the past- my main worry is how damaging this might be to her. The mere thought of revealing the relationship to everyone is clearly sending Kayla into a state of near-panic, and I can’t help but feel responsible, whether it’s through my example, my ‘history of deception’, or the mere fact I initiated this relationship in the first place- if Kayla does want to break it off, it’d make home life a hell of a lot harder…

The two of us head to bed shortly afterward, and as always, we sleep in our own separate beds. As I walk into my bedroom, though, I catch a glimpse of something that makes me equal parts excited and anxious- my reflection in my full-length mirror.

15 months on oestrogen has dramatically transformed my body- not that I was particularly masculine to begin with. My skin is soft, smooth and hairless, my waist is narrow and my hips and backside have widened, and even my chest is a more and more ‘prominent’ with every passing day. Wrapped in my skimpy clubbing dress, my shiny tan-coloured tights and stiletto heeled shoes (not to mention my thick, expensive make-up), I am every bit the woman I always fantasised about being when I was a boy. I don’t miss life as ‘Steve’ at all anymore. My sessions with Dr Phillips (and my many talks with friends like Jamie, Nikki and all my other transgendered friends) have helped me to realise that this is the only life I should be living.

And yet, I can’t help but wonder whether or not it’s ‘Stephanie’ or ‘Steve’ that Kayla wants to be with. Or, worse yet, whether or not I consider myself to be a lesbian…

“Good morning, sleepyhead!” I hear a familiar voice whisper as I’m slowly nuzzled awake. I roll over and am greeted by the smiling, make-up free face of my girlfriend, who’s wrapped herself in her warmest onesie and curled up on top of my bedsheets. My only reply is to give Kayla a long, soft kiss on her lips- as tense as the relationship makes me, moments like this make me happier than I have ever been in my life.

“Mmm, morning!” I say, giggling along with my girlfriend. “Do we really need to get up?”

“’Fraid so,” Kayla sighs. “Think the lesson’s already halfway done, heh. So get up!” I giggle as Kayla gives me another kiss and hops off my bed, heading to the bathroom and locking the door, laughing as I playfully protest from outside.

About half an hour later, the two of us head out of our flat, smiles on our faces but a noticeable physical distance between us as we head to the nearest tube station. Given how famous we are, we can’t afford to so much as hold hands for fear of ending up on the front pages of tomorrow’s tabloids, and even though I logically understand this, it still makes me frustrated.

It does help, though, that I know I look good in my tight turtleneck, my short skater skirt, my opaque black tights and (of course) my knee-high boots. And Kayla looks REALLY good in her long-sleeved black bodysuit, long hounds tooth pencil skirt and black heels.

Our hands remain apart as we enter the familiar surroundings of the Krystie Fullerton School of Dance, as even though the two people we’re here to see know about our relationship, there will be plenty of other people here today who don’t know- one of whom instantly brings a smile to our faces as she pirouettes around the light, airy studio in a voluminous pink tutu.

“Shake that booty, Anna-Jade!” Natalie- who, like the rest of the girls, is dressed in a pair of pink tights and a skin-tight black leotard- teases the ginger-haired ballerina.

“Fuck you,” Anna-Jade replies, making the rest of the room giggle as she finishes her dance and exchanges hugs with all of her friends.

“Very ‘elegant’,” Zoe says, earning more swearing from the Irish girl. “Maybe we should have asked you to wait so that you would have singing with the music?”

“Like I could fucking afford it!” Anna-Jade says with a giggle, before exchanging hugs with myself and Kayla. “Thanks for coming, you two! Even though I know you’re not REALLY here to see little old me…”

“We are happy to see you, though,” I say with a warm smile.

“And we’ve really missed you girls at the parties lately,” Kayla sighs. “Just cause the ‘Sky Angels’ programme didn’t, well, fly, doesn’t mean you’re, like, banned, you know?”

“Sadly, we’ve had proper jobs to do,” Jessica retorts, flashing a smug grin toward myself and Kayla. “Which is where I’ve got to go now, not on a flight today but got a supervisors’ meeting.”

“Swot,” Natalie teases the American girl, before greeting me and Kayla with hugs. “So glad you two were free this morning, been AGES since we last caught up.”

“You’re telling me,” I chuckle.

“I think Steph needs someone to, you know, ‘properly’ talk to,” Kayla says softly, biting her lip as I grimace and Natalie nods knowingly.

“Fortunately, I know just the place,” Natalie says with a smile. “Just let me get changed first- much as I’d love to wear this to work, hehe!”

“Maybe you need a better job?” Zoe asks, giggling as she plays with the straps of her leotard (which is, of course, her work uniform).

“And how many times have I asked you to teach me how to teach?” Natalie pouts with her hands on her hips.

“Ladies? Not here?” Kayla chastises, making everyone giggle as Natalie heads to the changing room, emerging a few minutes later in her work uniform, which consists of a knee-length black denim skirt, black tights, black flats and a polo shirt with the name ‘Natalie’ on one side of the buttons and the logo of her employer on the other side.

“…So we’re going to having brunch with ‘Natalie’ and not ‘Matthew’, then?” I ask.

“Who?” Natalie asks with a smug grin as her fiancée locks the studio doors and leads us to her car. “In all seriousness though… Yeah. ‘Natalie’ is, like, my ‘default’. ‘Matthew’ is only when I’m with my family, or I need to prove a point.”

“Thought you’d changed your name back to Matthew?” I ask.

“Yep,” Natalie replies. “But I’ve kept ‘Natalie’ as my middle name. Must’ve raised a few eyebrows at the deed poll department, hehe!”

“Especially as she shall be changing it again soon!” Zoe giggles.

“Would’ve done it already if SOMEONE wasn’t all ‘oh, but you can’t change before the wedding, it’s not traditional’…” Natalie mock-whines, giggling as her fiancée gives her a sharp punch in her arm.

“It is bad enough that your dress shall be sky blue!” Zoe retorts as I start to fidget in my seat- though not as much as Kayla is. Even though we’ve been friends for three years- and despite the fact that many people say we’re already ‘like an old married couple’- we have only been in a relationship for three months, far too short a time to be thinking about getting married, and short enough a time that merely listening to other people talk about their marriage makes us feel awkward.

“...Think we should change the subject,” Natalie says, pointing to the two of us on the back seat.

“My apologies,” Zoe says. “Is- is everything all okay with the two of you?”

“Yeah, we’re alright,” Kayla shrugs. “Just- just, you know…”

“It’s, like, ‘converting’ being best friends into being lovers…” I explain, deciding not to elaborate on the fact that as ‘lovers’ we haven’t done a great deal of ‘loving’.

“All the great relationships have some teething problems,” Natalie says.

“Though it is helpful to have someone you can speak with,” Zoe says softly. “And the more people you have to talk to…”

“Not that we won’t always be here to talk to,” Natalie clarifies. “Any time, day or night, you know that. Well, provided we’re not at work, anyway!” Kayla and I smile as the car approaches the modern-looking coffee shop where we’ll be hanging out today- or rather, where three of us will be hanging out.

“Travail!” Zoe teases her fiancée, who rolls her eyes as she approaches the staff entrance of the coffee shop.

“Hi Zoe,” the head barista says as we approach the counter. “Oh- hi Steph! Hi Kayla! The usual?”

“Please, Saffron,” I say to the young blonde woman, before finding a quiet table in the corner of the shop.

“I REALLY love what they’ve done with this place,” Kayla says, staring at all the Heavenly Talent-related decorations covering the wall as we sit down. “Would’ve thought it’d be a bit more popular than this, though…”

“It is still new,” Zoe shrugs. “People will discover the shop in their time. And not every Out of Heaven fan lives in London, you know!”

“Some of them live in Southampton,” Kayla says with a smug grin, which only gets wider when I give her a playful nudge. “We’ll just have to give Joshua loads of our money in the meantime. Even though he’s the one who gave it to us in the first place, heh!”

“The OBE at the New Year wasn’t enough for him, heh,” I say, making Zoe giggle.

“I have learned not to make comment on your English ‘ranks’,” Zoe says, before grinning as our waitress arrives with our drinks. “Ah, merci Laura!”

“You’re welcome!” The tall blonde girl giggles as she places our fancy, expensive drinks in front of us. “Can I get you anything else?”

“Sarah and her gang didn’t have any modelling work for you this weekend?” I ask the waitress, with whom I share a very special connection.

“Not this weekend,” Laura sighs. “Think they’ve almost finished everything for the year. And I’ve got exams of my own to prepare for, heh.”

“Ah, I don’t miss them!” Kayla giggles.

“That will be all for now,” Zoe says with a dismissive wave of her hand.

“Let me know if you need anything else,” Laura says, before a cheeky smirk spreads across her face. “Miss Abbott, Miss Ford… And the soon-to-be MADAME Renou-Briggs!”

“Allez-vous en!” Zoe giggles, before sighing as she sees mine and Kayla’s frowning faces. “We should be fair, she would not know. She should be the last to know, heh!”

“I can definitely agree with that!” I chuckle as I sip my sweet coffee. “Think I’ve told you before about some of the fans who have ‘shipped’ us, right?”

“’Shipped’ like… Preferred you as a couple?” Zoe asks.

“Yep,” Kayla sighs. “Some have even written fan fiction of us. That the last time I ever Google myself, heh!”

“I shall not ask about the ‘accuracy’ of the fan fiction,” Zoe says with a wink, though even this gesture isn’t enough to ease our tension. “Is- have I said something more?”

“…Kinda,” I sigh, gazing tentatively at Kayla, who nods her approval. “We- we’re not, you know… ‘Physical’. Not much, anyway.”

“Is- is this because of- because of your transition?” Zoe asks. Again, I glance toward my girlfriend and wait for her approval before continuing- it’s not like we could be discussing a more sensitive subject…

“Sort-of,” I sigh. “I know you don’t have this problem with Natalie because she isn’t on hormones, but I’m not exactly… ‘Performing’. And oestrogen kinda kills your libido as well, so… Yeah.”

“And this is a worry?” Zoe asks, making me and Kayla frown with confusion. “You did not get together simply for sex, did you?”

“Well- no,” Kayla says. “Me and Steph, we- we connect on SO many ways.”

“Sometimes it is like you think with one brain,” Zoe says with a warm smile. “You smile at the same time, you frown at the same time, you like all the same things… I was not surprised when I learned that you became more than best friends.”

“Everyone we’ve told seems to say that,” Kayla muses.

“Maybe that is because everyone is correct,” Zoe says. “Why are you looking for reasons the relationship is bad, when you should be looking for reasons the relationship is good?”

“I- ugh, I dunno,” Kayla sighs. “I- I just never really considered myself to be, you know, a lesbian…”

“…Which kinda makes me stress too,” I say, prompting a confused frown from Kayla. “Wondering whether or not it’s ‘Steph’ or ‘Steve’ that Kayla’s attracted to-“

“It’s Steph,” Kayla says firmly. “Okay? It’s only Steph because YOU’RE only Steph.”

“And what if I had been bigendered, like Natalie?” I ask, frowning as Kayla pauses.

“…Why should gender be important?” Zoe asks. “It does not matter what gender Natalie is. I am attracted to the person, not the ‘label’. And I believe the same is for you.”

“And you’re right,” Kayla says, sharing a giggle with me. “I guess I just worry, you know? We’re the only girl band in the world who has a transgendered member, so we’re gonna have, you know, ‘open-minded’ fans, but if they knew about us together… You know?”

“It’s hard to predict how they’d react,” I sigh. “Whether anyone would see me as ‘not really a girl’ for dating a girl when I’ve dated boys in the past, whether it would, you know, damage the image of the group, wondering what we get up to on tours…”

“And then there’s the worry about what everyone else would think,” I sigh. “Like Becca and Addie, or Jamie, Stuart, Joshua… We work with these people every day, it’s such a pain keeping it from everyone…” I grimace as I realise that I’ve just inadvertently really struck a nerve with Kayla, but a glance at her face reveals that not only is she not angry, but she’s actually nodding in agreement.

“We can’t afford to, you know, ‘slack off’,” Kayla says. “It shows how good friends you and Natalie and Nikki and Sarah are that no one else has found out yet. But it just takes one picture in the papers of us holding hands…”

“And I think I saw a photographer outside, too,” I sigh. “But, you know? Nothing good ever comes easy. If anyone should know that, it’s me, heh!”

“And I know how hard it is to keep a relationship secret,” Zoe says softly. “I was in a relationship with Natalie for months and keeping it secret from my sister while I was living with her! But in the end, she found out, and now everything is good, and she shall be maid of honour at my wedding!”

“Did I hear someone say ‘wedding’?” A familiar refined London accent asks as its owner approaches our table.

“Did I hear someone say ‘maid of honour’?” The equally familiar voice of the first person’s BFF asks with a giggle.

“Rebecca, Adeola, bienvenue!” Zoe says with a giggle, flashing a brief sympathetic smile in mine and Kayla’s direction.

“Bienvenue!” Becca giggles as she sits down at our table. “Hope you weren’t boring our ‘free’ girls with talk of weddings and dresses and honeymoons…”

“Umm, when is talk of that EVER boring?” Adeola asks.

“Can’t imagine it’s much fun when you’re single,” Becca says, giving me and Kayla a supportive smile. “Even if you are ‘single by choice’ right now…”

“We’ve got enough on our hands to have to worry about boys too,” Kayla snorts, making our bandmates giggle. “The album, the tour…”

“Yeah- which we have to worry about too!” Adeola retorts. “Doesn’t mean you can’t grab yourself a nice, big slice of man flesh for your downtime!”

“Glad you only like me for my ‘flesh’,” Marco says, giving Adeola a long, deep kiss as he sits down next to her while Becca’s fiancé sits down next to her.

“I like your bones, too!” Adeola giggles.

“Yeah, well no ‘boning’ here, please,” Riley says, thankfully ending the public display of affection.

“Especially as I think I saw a photographer outside,” Becca sighs, which causes me and Kayla to exchange a knowing glance. As frustrating as it is to keep our relationship a secret, sometimes it IS necessary.

“Gonna be plenty more of them when you two finally tie the knot!” Adeola teases her blushing BFF.

“Yes, well, you two must wait your turn!” Zoe giggles as Kayla and I try to relax and tune out the more ‘intimate’ details of the wedding-related talk that dominates the rest of the brunch.

Our ‘group’ stays at the coffee shop until early afternoon, before heading back to our respective homes (stopping off for some selfies with the other patrons first, of course). As soon as we’re out of earshot of our friends, both Kayla and I let out long, tired sighs, followed by giggles at yet another case of us ‘synchronising’.

“Sometimes I expect Becca to show up to work in a wedding dress,” Kayla says with a devilish smirk. “Can you imagine anyone being more ‘Bridezilla’ than her?”

“No one who isn’t already married,” I reply.

“Oh- me-ow!” Kayla teases, making me blush. “Not thinking of Becca’s sister-in-law, are you?”

“Maybe,” I say with a smug grin.

“I won’t tell her you said that,” Kayla giggles. “I’ll definitely not tell our producer you said that either!”

“Or her sister-in-law, hopefully,” I say, making my girlfriend roar with laughter as we climb into our waiting taxi.

“My lips are sealed,” Kayla says, smiling at me and taking a deep breath as her lips slowly part…

“When we get home,” I whisper as my heart rate starts to increase. Even though our long chat with Natalie and Zoe eventually turned into a short chat with just Zoe, it was more than helpful, as it helped me to realise one thing- that my feelings for Kayla haven’t changed since that first tentative kiss three months ago, and more importantly, her feelings for me clearly haven’t changed either. If I wasn’t really attracted to Kayla, I wouldn’t have kissed her, and if she wasn’t really attracted to me, she wouldn’t have kissed back. Sure, there are plenty of reasons why we shouldn’t be together, reasons we’ve discussed endlessly, but we only need one reason why we SHOULD be together- and that reason couldn’t be more obvious.

I have a wicked smile on my lips as we walk through our front door. As Kayla heads to the kitchen to make a warm drink, I duck into my bedroom and quickly strip off my skirt and my top, before reaching into my underwear drawer, grinning as always at the feeling of the soft lace between my fingers, especially as in a few seconds, it’ll be covering another part of my body…

“Steph?” Kayla calls from the kitchen. “You getting changed? You want a cup of tea?”

“I’m good, thanks,” I say, before stepping out of my bedroom and leaning seductively against the door. My eye make-up is thick and smoky, my lips are blood red, and most importantly of all, my body is covered only by a soft red satin basque that greatly enhances my cleavage, a frivolous matching thong and a pair of shiny dark stockings. I have to suppress a giggle as Kayla almost drops the cup of tea that she’s holding.

“Uh- wuh- wow…” Kayla gasps, before taking a deep breath and unzipping her skirt.

As with all of our lovemaking sessions- or rather, both of them to date- the ‘action’ is brief and, as much as I hate to admit it, not entirely satisfying. What is more than satisfying, though, is the wide grin on Kayla’s face as she cuddles her naked body closer to mine.

“Thought you said your hormones were killing your sex drive?” Kayla asks with a giggle.

“It’s not dead yet,” I reply. “Unlike some other things…”

“Oh, I think we worked around ‘that’ pretty well,” Kayla says. “It’s like Zoe says, sex isn’t the be-all and end-all of everything. And it’s like ‘it’ ruined Nikki and Sarah’s relationship, is it?”

“True,” I say, before giving my girlfriend another long kiss. “God… It’s still only 2:30pm, heh. Got anything you want to do for the rest of the afternoon?”

“Well, there is ONE thing,” Kayla says with a smirk.

“Go on…” I say.

“What would you say to…” Kayla teases coyly. “A marathon Splatoon session?”

“…You are the best girlfriend in the world,” I say, giving Kayla another long kiss before pulling on a comfortable pair of leggings and a hoodie and grabbing my Switch from where I left it on the coffee table.

We spend the rest of the afternoon and evening gaming and looking over our lyrics for tomorrow’s recording session, before turning in for an early night just after 9:30PM. Despite our earlier ‘fun’, Kayla and I, as usual, climb into our own, separate beds, dressed in our usual soft, comfortable pyjamas, but that’s okay- we have plenty of time for ‘more’ whenever we want. We do, however, exchange a long, loving kiss before saying good night to each other- a kiss that stays in my memories even as I drift off to sleep.

…And a kiss that surprises me the following morning as I wake up and find myself staring into my girlfriend’s beautiful emerald green eyes.

“Morning,” Kayla says with a happy giggle.

“Morning sexy,” I say, returning Kayla’s kiss. “Do we REALLY have to get up?”

“Yeah,” Kayla sighs. “’Fraid we actually have to earn our fame and fortune today, hehe!”

“Poor us,” I giggle, before letting out a long sigh that makes my girlfriend frown.

“What- what’s up, Steph?” Kayla asks, sliding next to me as I sit up.

“…Nothing,” I say with a cheeky grin, before leaping out of bed and heading to the door. “I just wanted to be first in the bathroom for once.”

“Oh- you-“ Kayla stammers in a state of shock as I lock the bathroom door behind me, giggling evilly all the while.

Naturally, when I open the door after showering, blow-drying my hair and applying my make-up, I find my girlfriend waiting for me with a look of utter fury on her teardrop-shaped face. Her anger quickly turns to laughter, however, as I pull my best ‘puppy dog eyes’ and pout deeply with my scarlet-coloured lips.

“…I’m still going to get my revenge,” Kayla says, exchanging a kiss with me before disappearing into the bathroom herself and making a point of very loudly locking the door.

A short while later, with both of us dressed in our now-trademark looks (Kayla in a tight top, long pencil skirt and heels and me in a warm long-sleeved bodysuit, a floaty black skirt and, of course, my favourite pair of knee-high boots), my girlfriend and I step through the front door of the head office of Heavenly Talent and head to the small recording studio in the back of the building, where our bandmates and producer are ready and waiting for us.

“Finally!” Becca says with an overdramatic sigh.

“You two get a late night or summat?” Adeola asks.

“…We’re twenty minutes EARLY,” I retort, making the two other girls giggle. “And no, got an early night, actually.”

“Spending all your afternoon and evening playing videogames, then?” Adeola asks.

“…Something like that,” Kayla says, exchanging a nervous glance with me.

“Okay, enough chatting,” Stuart calls from his booth. “Only got a month to go before the anniversary tour, we need to make sure we get these songs down perfectly.”

“We’ve been singing them continuously for three years!” Becca protests.

“Not the ones from the third album, you haven’t,” Stuart retorts, making the rest of us giggle as we find our headsets and take our place in front of our microphones. “We’re going to start with ‘Am I Only Dreaming’, from the top. You all ready or do you want to gossip a bit more?”

“I think you know the answer to THAT question,” Becca says with a smug grin.

“I do,” Stuart says. “And too bad, you’re gonna sing anyway. From the top…”

After two and half hours of practice, our producer mercifully allows us to take a break to rest our tired voices, and as we approach the refreshments table, talk instantly returns to mine and Kayla’s personal lives.

“I mean, you know,” Adeola says, “the two of you, like, spend virtually all your time together, you know?”

“…We LIVE together,” I protest.

“Yeah, but, you know…” Adeola shrugs.

“I think Addie might be trying to hint that you might want to spend time with other friends,” Becca says.

“Aww,” Kayla teases. “Do you want to spend more time with us, Becca?”

“…I was thinking more like, you know, a boyfriend,” Becca says. “At the rate you two are going you’re practically in a relationship with each other, heh.”

“Yeah,” I laugh nervously as I glance over at Kayla, whose eyes have gone wide with panic. “Umm… We just, you know, we just want to-“

“Want to enjoy being single, yes, we know,” Becca says. “I just, you know? Kinda feel like as the ‘big sister’ of the group, I- I don’t want you two to be missing out. Like, there’s a million guys in the country who’d give their right arm to go out with either of you, you know?”

“Two million who’d go out with both of you at the same time!” Adeola says, giggling as Becca gives her a playful shove.

“WE will pick who we want to go out with,” Kayla insists. “And if that’s nobody, then that’s nobody, okay?”

“O- okay,” Becca says, clearly taken aback by the tiny girl’s sudden hostility. “Sorry I brought it up…”

“No –no, I’m sorry,” Kayla sighs. “It’s just- it’s just a bit of a sensitive topic, that’s all…”

“Oh- oh…” Becca says. “I see…” I bite my lip as this reaction elicits another frown from Kayla- though the look in eyes gives away the fact that she’s more upset than angry.

“Hey,” I whisper as I approach the petite girl. “You- you okay?”

“Mm,” Kayla mumbles, though I can immediately tell that she’s holding back her true feelings.

“You know you can tell me if there’s something wrong, right?” I ask.

“It- it’s nothing,” Kayla whispers. “I’ll tell you at home.”

“Okay then,” I say. “If you’re sure…” I frown as Kayla nods, before finishing her drink and heading back to her microphone.

Throughout the rest of the morning, I keep an eye on Kayla, and with every passing minute, she gets more and more stressed out, which means that I get more and more frustrated as I have no way of helping her calm down- especially not in front of Becca, Adeola and Stuart. By the time we break for lunch, the petite blonde girl is so wound up it’s a wonder she doesn’t hurl her headphones through the floor when she takes them off- and it just frustrates me more when she walks straight past me en route to the toilet, not even smiling at me on her way past.

“What’s up with her?” Becca asks, momentarily startling me.

“Hmm?” I ask. “Oh- oh, Kayla? I, um, I dunno…”

“Huh,” Becca muses. “It’s not what I thought, then?”

“…Well I can’t read minds,” I say, making the brown-haired girl roll her eyes and giggle. “What did you think?”

“That she had a secret boyfriend,” Becca shrugs. “Emphasis on HAD. She’s giving off all the signals, you know?”

“’Signals’?” I ask.

“Changing the topic whenever anyone mentions relationships, getting defensive about everything…” Becca says.

“I- I kinda do that too,” I say, ironically hoping that it’ll make Becca change the topic.

“Not as much as her,” Becca retorts, making me grimace with frustration. “Hope she’s okay…”

“I- I’ll talk to her,” I say, heading to the small toilet block and frowning when I open the door and immediately hear the unmistakable and heartbreaking sound of my girlfriend quietly sobbing.

“K- Kayla?” I ask.

“Leave me alone,” Kayla moans.

“It- it’s me, Steph,” I say. “I’m alone.” I bite my lip as Kayla pauses, obviously deciding whether or not to send me away, before smiling as she exits her cubicle. It’s immediately clear from the state of her eye make-up how much she’s been crying. “God, Kayla…” I sigh and blink back tears of my own as Kayla and I share a long, tight hug.

“I’m sorry,” Kayla sniffs.

“No- no,” I sigh. “Don’t be sorry, just- just let me know what’s wrong, okay? Let me help you out.”

“How- how did you do it all that time?” Kayla asks. “Lie to people, I mean.”

“…Thanks for wording it like THAT,” I snort.

“I’m sorry,” Kayla mumbles, earning yet another hug from me. “And I guess I HAVE been lying to Becca, and Adeola, and all the others for months now, it- it’s just, you know? They won’t leave it alone…”

“That’s their problem, then,” I say.

“And ours too, as we have to work with them every day,” Kayla sighs.

“Why has it become such a problem now?” I ask.

“Oh- oh it’s been a problem for ages,” Kayla sighs. “Ever since Christmas. But now, it’s just- ugh. We’ve got months of this, Steph, between recording, then the tour, then more recording, then promoting the album… It’s just overwhelming, you know?”

“I think I know what you mean,” I sigh, before biting my lip as I consider my next words. “There- sadly, there’s only one way of solving the problem for good…” I take a deep breath as I feel Kayla tense up again, and I find myself unconsciously tensing up as well as I realise that there are two ways Kayla could interpret my suggestion- either as telling Becca and Adeola, which I what I meant, or as splitting up- which is the last thing I want, and hopefully the last thing that Kayla wants too…

“I- ugh,” Kayla spits, before taking a long, deep breath. “…Okay. Let’s tell them.”

“Wha- are- are you sure?” I ask, trying to disguise my excitement.

“I’m sure,” Kayla whispers. “I can’t go on like this.”

“This- this isn’t something you can just take back,” I whisper. “Once we tell them, we can’t un-tell-“

“I’m sure, okay?” Kayla asks, but I’m still far from convinced- this is a VERY sudden change of heart. “You said it just now, it’s the only way to solve the problem.”

“Umm, yeah,” I say. “It’s just- it’s just sudden, you know? I mean, you know I’d rather we told them, but you’ve always been dead set against it-“

“I. Am. Sure,” Kayla insists. “In fact, the sooner, the better. Can’t, you know, back out of it that way…”

“Okay,” I whisper. “You- you might want to fix your make-up first, heh…” I smile as Kayla giggles, before grabbing her make-up kit out of her handbag and repairing her destroyed mascara.

“Finally!” Becca says with a playful snort as Kayla and I emerge from the toilet block a short while later. “We- we all okay now?”

“Yeah,” Kayla says with a tired smile.

“Right then!” Adeola giggles. “Where we going for lunch? Starving after this morning…”

“There’s a new place that’s opened in Soho,” Becca replies. “It does custom sandwiches on freshly-baked artisan bread, like, prosciutto and brie on tomato and onion-infused bread.”

“Ugh, that sounds DELICIOUS,” Adeola sighs. “We are SO going there, hehe!”

“Actually…” Kayla says hesitantly as I grimace and wish I could squeeze her hand for support, “can- can we- can we eat in today? Please?”

“Umm, I guess,” Becca says, her voice exactly the same as it had been when talking with Kayla earlier. “They do other sandwiches, you know? Or is- is there another reason that you don’t want to go there?”

“Like, is- is there someone there you don’t want to see?” Adeola asks, having obviously been ‘briefed’ by Becca about her interpretation of the Kayla ‘situation’.

“No, it’s- “ Kayla replies, before letting out a long sigh. “I want- I need to tell you something. Both of you.”

“O- okay,” Adeola replies, growing visibly nervous. “You- you’re not leaving the band, are you?”

“What? No, hell no!” Kayla says. “It- it’s personal.”

“Should I make myself scarce?” Stuart- who’s passing through our ‘breakout area’ en route to reception- asks. “I sense a ‘girl talk’ coming on…”

“No- actually, umm, I’d kinda like to talk to you too…” Kayla says nervously.

“And- umm, is- is Jamie in the office today?” I ask, smiling as Kayla nods at me.

“She’s picking me up, we’re about to head out to lunch,” Stuart says. “Reckon we could always, you know, eat in instead with you guys, as long as you don’t mind the smell of baby food, heh.”

“The smell of baby more than makes up for it!” Becca says with a giggle. “As- as long as that’s okay with you, Kayla?”

“Sure,” Kayla shrugs as she exchanges a nervous, but supportive smile with me.

A few minutes later, the four of us, along with Stuart, Jamie and Olivia, are sat around a makeshift dinner table in our breakout area picking at a sandwich platter Jamie collected from a nearby Subway (apart from Olivia, of course, who’s eating her own lunch). While everyone’s enjoying their food, it’s clear that they’re slightly agitated to have had their dinner plans disrupted- and it’s clear they know who’s to blame for that, too, judging by the stares that keep shooting in Kayla’s direction (with a few heading in my direction as well).

“Okay,” Kayla says, taking a deep breath as she struggles to swallow the last part of her sandwich. “You’re all obviously wondering why I’ve asked to talk to you.”

“Why- why WE’VE asked to talk to you,” I say, bringing a shocked look to my girlfriend’s face, before she nods her approval.

“Umm… Steph?” Becca asks, obviously confused by my speaking up.

“What’s this about?” Jamie asks as Kayla and I each take a deep breath.

“It-“ Kayla and I say simultaneously, giggling at the two of us synchronising yet again.

“…You go,” Kayla mumbles, gripping my hand supportively.

“Ka- Kayla and I are in a relationship,” I say, trying not to grimace as the jaws of everyone sat at the table drop open. “We have been for about three months.”

“Se- seriously?” Adeola asks. “You- you’re not, like, having us on?”

“We’re serious,” Kayla says, before wrapping her arms around my neck and giving a long, gentle kiss.

It’s hardly the first time I’ve kissed Kayla, but for some reason, this one feels more special than any of the others. It could be because it was Kayla who initiated it out of the blue- just as I had our first kiss- or it could be because we’re stood in front of all of our friends, finally expressing our love publicly (well, as publicly as we dare for now, anyway). Either way, I feel a kind of exhilaration that I’ve only felt once before- when I first presented ‘Stephanie’ to my parents and was immediately accepted. Internally, I’m praying that this ‘coming out’ will go as well as that one…

“…Good for you,” Stuart says with a warm smile. “Seriously, I mean it, you’ve obviously got a lot of love for each other, so, well, good for you!”

“My brother’s right,” Becca says. “Don’t get used to me saying that, idiot.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” Stuart says with a snort of laughter as I feel the adrenaline start to fade from my trembling body.

“But yeah, seriously,” Becca says. “You two- I kinda had a feeling it might happen at some point.”

“You teased us enough about it,” I retort, making Becca giggle and blush.

“Okay, I guess,” Becca sighs.

“So,” Jamie says cautiously. “Three months, eh?”

“Yep,” I say nervously as I start to worry about how the blonde woman will reply to being left in the dark like this. Fortunately, her lips curl upward into a genuine smile, rather than opening to bare her teeth at me.

“Who else knows about this?” Jamie asks, not in a judgemental tone, but one of genuine curiosity.

“Just our families,” Kayla says. “Nikki, Sarah…”

“…Sarah’s mum, Natalie, Zoe…” I continue. “Think- think that’s about it.”

“…We were almost in the top ten, then,” Jamie mumbles, before letting out a long sigh as Kayla and I- and, to my surprise, everyone else at the table- frowns. “Okay, okay, sorry… There’s no reason why we should be this far up the list, I accept that. And you DO look happy together.”

“We are,” Kayla says.

“Guess that explains why the videogame sessions have been few and far between,” Stuart says. “You two wanting your privacy… What?”

“BOY,” everybody else in the room says accusingly- even Olivia, who babbles a loud ‘bahhh’ after everyone else has spoken.

“Even my own daughter,” Stuart dramatically sighs, which thankfully helps to lighten the mood in the room.

“I just- I just wanna know why you felt you couldn’t trust us,” Adeola sighs. “I mean, why keep it such a secret?”

“And why did you feel you could tell Natalie and Zoe and not the people you’ve seen every single day for the last three years?” Becca asks.

“We- we needed to be sure that we knew where we were going, what we wanted,” Kayla explains.

“We didn’t want to, you know, get everyone excited…” I mumble.

“It’s not that you didn’t trust us, then?” Adeola asks, clearly as upset as her BFF by the fact that we kept our relationship a secret from them.

“The more people know, the more- the more likely it is to get leaked to the public,” I say. “We don’t want the fans knowing. Not yet, anyway.”

“And you’ll now have to decide whether or not to tell your uncle,” Kayla reminds our dark-skinned bandmate.

“…Ah,” Adeola says with a grimace. “You know he’ll want to make the most of it, look to, you know, make publicity of it…”

“Which is the last thing we want right now,” Kayla says.

“Says the girls who put themselves in the public eye,” Jamie says, earning more frowns from everyone else. “I’m serious, you two really should consider what you’re doing, and I speak from experience. I kept my transgendered status from the public for ages, and that only caused hassle once it was well-known. Being a celebrity is a lot of fun but it comes with a lot of responsibilities too. If you lose your fans you effectively lose your job, and lying to them is the easiest way to do that.”

“Though as you’ve only been going out three months, the ‘damage’ should be minimal,” Stuart says. “And knowing Joshua, he’ll be able to spin the relationship to, like, get even more fame and publicity for the group. And more money, too!”

“And what happens if we break up?” Kayla asks. “What would that do to the publicity? What would that do to the band, even?”

“We should still tell my uncle,” Adeola says quietly. “Or even Jon, I know he’s in today, he’ll be able to handle this some way, right?”

“We don’t- we don’t want our relationship to be ‘handled’,” I say firmly. “We just want to be allowed to, you know, get on with it in our time.”

“Well we promise we won’t tell anyone you don’t want to know,” Becca says, “but it’s gonna be really hard to keep a lid on it, and the longer you go on keeping it a secret, and the more people you tell…”

“Yeah, we know,” Kayla sighs. “And believe me, we are REALLY careful in public. You know what’d happen if the fans got hold of this…”

“And what will happen when they find out they’ve been kept in the dark for so long,” Jamie says quietly. “I’m not saying that what you’ve done is wrong- that’s the last thing I’d suggest. You two make a REALLY cute couple! But you know how fans can be, and some of them do already, you know, ‘ship’ you…”

“Ugh, yeah,” Kayla sighs.

“Didn’t that American couple, Alexa and Jenny, assume that you were in a couple when they came over last year?” Stuart asks.

“Think that was only because Nikki used that stupid ‘Stayla’ name,” Kayla replies.

“And we weren’t even together then anyway,” I say. “Our first- well, we got together a few days after our Wembley Arena concert.”

“After the NFL game?” Stuart asks, smiling as I nod. “I thought you looked a little distracted on the bus.”

“Anyway, like Becca said, you don’t have to worry about us blabbing to anyone,” Jamie says with a reassuring smile. “Your private lives are exactly that- private. Just- just be careful of the people who disagree with that, and as you know, there are quite a few of THOSE.”

“But we’re not one of them,” Becca says as her BFF continues to frown.

“…Addie?” I ask.

“I ain’t keeping this from my uncle,” Adeola says. “You know he’s gotta find out.”

“He will be supportive,” Jamie says reassuringly. “He won’t read you the riot act just ‘cause you’re going out with each other. Though he probably won’t be happy about you keeping it from him. Either way, you should tell him.”

“I can call him now, if you want, bring him here…” Adeola mumbles.

“…No sense in putting it off,” I sigh. “Don’t want to put you in an even more difficult position, heh.” I smile as Adeola grabs her phone and heads outside to make a phone call, before bidding farewell to Jamie and Olivia with a hug each.

“We’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Jamie asks.

“To- tomorrow?” I ask, blushing as Jamie giggles.

“Your birthday?” The blonde woman reminds me. “God, this has got you wound up, hasn’t it?”

“…Maybe a bit,” I say as my cheeks go an even deeper shade of red.

“I’ll make sure not to point any eligible, single hunks of man flesh toward you or Kayla tomorrow, then,” Jamie says with a sly wink. “See you tomorrow, Steph. And please believe me when I say that I AM happy for you. For both of you.”

“Thanks,” I say, exchanging another hug with Jamie before waving her and her daughter goodbye.

Twenty minutes later, Kayla and I find ourselves shaking with nerves once again as we sit in front of the vast, posh desk of our agency’s owner, with the great man himself listening politely to our story.

“So… Yeah,” Kayla says. “Me and Steph are a couple, we- we want to make a go of things, but not in public. We don’t want to become, you know, a ‘power couple’ or anything like that… We especially don’t want to overshadow the band.”

“I see,” Joshua says, nodding as he tries to process the information he’s just been given. He appears calm on the outside, though whether that’s because he’s trying to remain calm because of his heart condition is anyone’s guess…

“We would have told you earlier,” I blurt. “But we wanted first-“

“I am not angry,” Joshua reassures me. “Obviously, I would have preferred if you had told me earlier. But you have told me now, I did not find out from a newspaper, or from the internet… I appreciate that a new relationship is a complicated thing, especially as you already live and work together! If you need space and privacy, then I will ensure that is what you get. However, I will say that these things do not stay private forever. People have a way of finding out, and they- well, I do not need to tell you of all people that keeping secrets and misleading people is never a good thing.”

“Believe me, I know,” I whisper.

“If you wish to keep this quiet, then my lips will be sealed,” Joshua says. “But pay attention to what I have said. The longer you wait to tell your fans, the less happy they will be when they eventually find out. I am not saying that your relationship with your fans will be damaged beyond repair. But put yourself in their shoes.”

“We understand,” Kayla says.

“Ensure that you do,” Joshua says, before breaking into a wide smile. “But most importantly, ensure that you enjoy your lives. You are young and in love. There can be nothing better than that. And make sure that you enjoy tomorrow, birthday girl!”

“Oh- I will, I will!” I say with a giggle. “Not having a costume party, I never do really, but- yeah. Really looking forward to it now that- now-“

“Now that there is a weight off your mind?” Joshua asks with a deep, uncharacteristically quiet chuckle.

“Basically- yeah,” I say with a giggle of my own.

“The weight will be lessened, the more people you tell,” Joshua advises. “Now go! You still have beautiful music to make, the two of you!”

“Can do!” Kayla giggles before we leave the office to the sound of our boss’s trademark booming laugh.

When we return to the studio, Kayla and I are greeted by long, tight hugs from both of our bandmates, before being ushered to our regular microphones to- as Joshua put it- make beautiful music. In a literal sense, of course.

“We’re going to do a quick run-through of ‘Time Flies’,” Stuart says. “Had an idea for a different mix that might sound better on stage. Unless, of course, you two have any duets you want to sing first?”

“…Seriously?” Kayla asks. “Teasing already?”

“Nah, we’re just so excited, though!” Adeola giggles. “Find out two of our best friends have got together… Gonna make tomorrow’s party a bit exciting!”

“It’s gonna make it no different!” I insist. “Honestly. We want to keep it between as few people as possible for now. Joshua has agreed to this too.”

“Really?” Adeola asks. “Must’ve taken some persuading…”

“Well we DID persuade him,” Kayla says. “Seriously, can we- can we please just go on as normal?”

“Gonna be hard, now that we know what you two have been doing over the last few months!” Becca giggles.

“We’re still the same girls,” I argue. “We just- it’s just the relationship between us that’s changed. That’s all. Can we please move past this?”

“Okay, okay,” Becca concedes, clearly surprised by my outburst. “We said we’d respect your privacy and we will. Doesn’t mean we can’t talk about it in here, right?”

“Well- I guess not,” I shrug.

“As long as your questions aren’t TOO personal,” Kayla says.

“Oh- don’t worry, THAT isn’t my thing, hehe!” Becca says with a snort of laughter.

“Even though I’m- umm, you know…?” I ask.

“You’re… What?” Becca asks with a warm grin. “An ordinary girl who just happens to fancy people of the same gender?” I bite my lip as I feel a tear form in the corner of my eye. Even though I’ve known Becca for three years, and she is obviously perfectly comfortable in the company of transgendered people, it always warms my heart to be reminded of just how accepted ‘Stephanie’ is by my friends.

“Thanks,” I whisper, taking a couple of deep breaths to compose myself.

“And YOU are not allowed to think about Stayla!” Becca says accusingly to her brother, who reacts with mock offence.

“Who’s the only person in this room who’s happily married and a parent?” Stuart retorts, making us all giggle. “Either way, you’re not getting paid to gossip. That’s my wife and her friends who do that.”

“Oh, I am SO telling her that!” Becca teases.

“See if I care,” Stuart says with a snort of devilish laughter. “’Time Flies’. From the top. NOW.”

“Yes, sir!” Becca mock-salutes as the familiar opening bars to the song plays through the studio.

Later that afternoon, once our work is done for the day, we prepare to head home, though not before exchanging yet more hugs with our bandmates and our producer- all of whom we remind to keep quiet about our relationship (and to not refer to us as ‘Stayla’). Once we’re in our taxi heading home, though, both Kayla and I yet again let out a long, simultaneous sigh.

“Stop that,” I tease my girlfriend, who giggles and lets out another tired sigh.

“I’ll get back to you on that,” Kayla replies. “That was definitely a different day of work, heh!”

“In a few weeks our ‘work’ is gonna involve singing to thousands of screaming fans, and you call THAT ‘different’?” I say, giggling as Kayla sticks her tongue out at me.

“You know what I mean and you know why,” Kayla says, before grinning. “I do- I do feel happier now that things are a little less, you know, ‘secret’…”

“It is a nice feeling, isn’t it?” I ask, resisting the urge to give my girlfriend a tight hug.

“Yeah,” Kayla whispers. “But they’re all we’re going to tell for now, okay?”

“Okay,” I whisper. “And in fairness, they are the only, you know really important people other than our families. No one else really, you know, NEEDS to know, right?”

“Yep!” Kayla says, giggling as we head back to our warm, cozy flat.

We spend the rest of the day relaxing by watching Netflix and playing videogames late into the night. As we have tomorrow off work- for obvious reasons- it’s gone midnight before we go to bed, but other than a goodnight kiss (which Kayla slips a sneaky ‘happy birthday’ into), we have no ‘intimate’ contact before we head to our separate beds.

When I wake up the following morning, though, I’m not surprised to discover the onesie-clad Kayla practically sitting on top of me on my bed, carrying a banner that reads ‘Happy 22nd Birthday Stephanie’.

“Happy birthday to you…” Kayla sings with her beautiful voice. “Happy birthday to you… Happy birthday MISS Stephanie… happy birthday to you!”

“Aww, thank you!” I squeak, sitting up and giving the petite girl a tight hug and a long, deep kiss.

“I SHOULD have sung that in front of 20 000 people, like you did to me in October,” Kayla giggles, “but I figured this is more ‘intimate’, heh.”

“I prefer this way,” I giggle.

“Me too,” Kayla says, giving me another kiss. “What time are your parents expecting us?”

“Not until late morning,” I say. “We’ve got plenty of time for, you know, other things…”

“Hmm… Maybe later,” Kayla says with a giggle, before giving me a playful kiss and sliding off my bed. In truth, I’m not too disappointed by this- I never could understand people who regularly had sex in the morning, and besides, I’m more excited by what’s waiting for me in the living room.

“Oh- wow,” I say as I step into our living area to find it almost buried in red and pink streamers. More banners, similar to the one Kayla has tied around me like a sash, are hanging from the walls, and floating in the middle of the room are three large pink and silver balloons- one shaped like an ‘S’ and two shaped like ‘2’s.

“You approve?” Kayla asks with a smug grin.

“Hell yeah I approve!” I giggle. “This is even fancier than last year…”

“Well…” Kayla says coyly. “We weren’t a couple last year, were we?” I giggle as Kayla gives me a playful kiss, before sitting me down on the sofa next to a huge pile of carefully-wrapped gifts and staring at me intently.

“…Hint taken,” I giggle as I take the top present from the pile and tear it open.

Even though the only presents in the room are Kayla’s, they still take almost half an hour to open, and include new clothes and make-up, some more ‘intimate’ items of clothing (that Kayla’s strongly hints she want to see me wearing later on), a couple of new videogames and some expensive French perfume. My favourite gift by miles, though, is a fancy silver watch, which Kayla immediately fastens around my right wrist.

“It’s beautiful,” I say softly.

“Like its owner,” Kayla whispers, giving me another gentle kiss. “Look at the clasp.”

“Umm, okay…” I say, before letting out a small gasp. On the clasp is a small, but intricate inscription- the initials SCA and KSF intertwined, as though they were merging into one. “…It’s perfect.”

“Just like its owner!” Kayla giggles. “Now get showered and dressed, want to get to your parents’ before noon. Unless you don’t want to see Danny or Rachel before tonight?”

“Well…” I shrug, giggling as Kayla flicks a discarded piece of wrapping paper at my face. “Okay, okay, yes ma’am!” Kayla and I both giggle as I mock salute her, before heading to the shower and thoroughly cleaning my smooth, hairless body- but not before taking off my precious new watch, of course!

The watch takes pride of place when I later get dressed, pulling on a comfortable cotton bra and thong set (but seriously considering some of the ‘intimate’ items Kayla gave me today!) before covering up with a pair of opaque black tights and a long-sleeved maroon dress with a short, playful skirt that flares outward with every step I take. As today’s my birthday, I decide against living up to my ‘Steffieboots’ nickname and instead opt for a pair of cute flats with shiny black bows on them.

“So cute!” Kayla squeaks as I emerge from my room and do a playful twirl. “AND girly, hehe!”

“Thanks!” I giggle, giving my girlfriend a gentle kiss. “You’re cuter, though. You’re always cuter, hehe!”

“Thanks,” Kayla says with a smug grin as she does a slow twirl in her usual clingy top, long pencil skirt and high heels ensemble (though even with her in heels and me in flats, she’s still noticeably shorter than me). “Come on, birthday GIRL, your family’s waiting!”

I giggle excitedly as I head down to the waiting taxi, which whisks us toward my parents’ home, where Kayla and I are both greeted by tight hugs from my parents, friendly hugs from my brothers and their fiancées, and best of all, a gentle cuddle from my baby niece.

“Happy birthday ‘big’ Steph!” Dad says as he ushers me and Kayla into the living room, where yet another pile of presents is waiting for me.

“Typically, the richest member of the family also gets the most birthday presents,” Danny teases, giggling as I give him a playful punch in his arm. “Hey, I’m not wrong, am I? Hope you remember us paupers on our birthday…”

“When have I not?” I ask. “And besides, I’m also the youngest member of the family. Well, I WAS, hehe!”

“Not that your auntie minds you stealing her spotlight!” Tom says to his daughter in a soft, playful voice.

“Have you already opened your presents from Kayla?” Mum asks.

“Yep!” I squeak happily. “Including this!” I smile I show off my new watch, making the women in the room sigh happily.

“That is SO beautiful,” Rachel coos. “What’s- what’s the inscription on the clasp?”

“It- it’s mine and Kayla’s initials intertwined,” I explain, making everyone sigh happily again.

“I kinda- I kinda thought it’d be, you know, nice…” Kayla mumbles, her cheeks starting to redden.

“Well I know I’m jealous,” Rachel says, making the younger of my two brothers roll his eyes.

“Thanks, Kayla,” Danny sighs, this time earning a playful punch from my girlfriend!

“So- so you’d be okay wearing it out in public?” Tom asks, instantly lowering the mood in the room. “If the press, or your fans catch a glimpse of the clasp…”

“Well- well it’s in a very fancy script,” I retort. “And Rachel’s probably the smartest person in the room, and if I had to explain it to her…”

“I’m sure it won’t cause any problems,” mum says with a smile. “It’s a beautiful piece of jewellery and a very lovely gesture, Kayla.”

“Thanks,” my girlfriend whispers, her cheeks now a very bright red.

“How are things between you two, anyway?” Dad asks.

“Presents first, gossip later!” Danny complains, giggling as our father is the next person to give him a clout, this time a slap on the back of his head.

“…We’re fine,” I explain, linking my fingers with Kayla’s to emphasise the point. “We- we actually told a few more people yesterday. Becca, Adeola, Jamie and Stuart… Joshua too.”

“How did he react?” Danny asks.

“He was okay with it,” Kayla says. “Reckons we should tell more people, though.”

“He might have a point,” Tom says.

“If it’s just those guys you’ve told, that still leaves a lot of people who don’t know,” Rachel says softly. “A lot of people who’ll be at the party tonight.”

“…Presents first, gossip later,” I say, taking a deep breath to calm myself as my family nod politely, though it’s obvious that they’re still concerned about mine and Kayla’s need for privacy.

My family’s presents are less intimate than Kayla’s, though that is to be expected- and they are still very thoughtful, including more jewellery, some accessories for our flat and a few more frivolous gifts such as wine and chocolates. Thankfully, the topic of conversation stays away from the ‘publicity’ of mine and Kayla’s relationship, and the topic of the relationship itself vanishes when we decamp to Danny & Rachel’s pub for a filling lunch. I am, however, forced to concede that Rachel is right, especially when Kayla and I arrive at Charlotte’s house later in the evening and are greeted by the woman herself with a gentle hug each.

“Happy birthday Steph!” Charlotte squeaks, taking care when hugging us not to put too much pressure on her bump.

“Aww, thank you!” I giggle, taking care not to crease my expensive strapless black dress too much!

“Oh my god,” Charlotte gasps as she grabs my wrist and examines my new watch. “Who got you this? It’s gorgeous…”

“Oh- umm…” I mumble, instantly regretting wearing the new watch to the party. That only took fifteen seconds, I think to myself.

“I- I bought it,” Kayla says with a nervous smile.

“Oh- really?” Charlotte asks. “Hell of a gift, even for a best friend… Think I need to lean on Jamie a bit more before my next birthday, hehe!”

“Yeah,” I say with a nervous giggle.

“You two really are great best friends,” Charlotte muses as we head into her already-bustling main room. “Guess that’s why the band works, like the Angels- pairs of best friends who get on well with each other. Even when BOYS get in the way, heh!”

“Yep!” Kayla giggles, flashing me a nervous look as Charlotte attracts the attention of everyone in the room.

A few moments later, Charlotte delivers a short speech, before I’m treated to yet another rendition of ‘Happy Birthday to You’ and ushered to my third present pile of the day. These presents are even less ‘intimate’ than the ones from my family, but no less welcome- especially Becca and Adeola’s gift of a necklace with a very special jewel in the middle. The jewel is made up of four separate stones, one red, one pink, one yellow and one gold- the ‘colours’ of myself, Kayla, Becca and Adeola respectively.

“We got you this a few weeks ago,” Becca explains as she helps to fasten it around my neck. I nod my head, letting the brown-haired girl know that I know what she really means is ‘we got this before we knew that you and Kayla were a couple’.

“It’s beautiful,” I say softly. “Thank you both so much!”

“Didn’t you wanna go thirds on the necklace too, Kayla?” Mary- one of the Angels (and therefore one of our friends)- asks, and I can see my girlfriend’s body almost seize up with the tension. “So it’s kinda, like, a ‘band’ thing?”

“This- this is kinda an ‘us’ thing,” Adeola explains, gesturing toward herself and Becca.

“Ah,” Mary says with a giggle. “An ‘Adiecca’ thing!”

“You are NOT calling us that!” Becca complain. “Bad enough you call me and Riley ‘Briley’…”

“And I got Steph a couple of things anyway, heh,” Kayla says with a nervous giggle.

“I think Stayla and Adiecca should treat us to one of the songs they’ve been rehearsing for the last few weeks!” Jonathan says, making all four of us groan with frustration- though internally, I’m glad that focus has been drawn away from ‘Stayla’.

Thankfully, after our impromptu song, the party starts for real, with everyone mingling, chatting, dancing and NOT asking me about my watch or about my relationship with Kayla. And yet, I can’t help but feel stressed out- and it’s obvious that Kayla feels the same way.

“Jesus,” Kayla sighs as we sit down next to each other on one of the many sofas lining the outside of the room. “Of all the things Mary could’ve asked, she picks THAT?”

“Sometimes I think someone up there is having fun at my expense,” I snort. “Sorry- at OUR expense, heh. Wouldn’t surprise me even if people already know and are just humouring us.”

“Sounds about right,” Kayla laughs. “You know, I really wouldn’t have been offended if you hadn’t worn the watch tonight.”

“I’m pretty I would’ve,” I say with a giggle. “It is GORGEOUS.” I share a smile with my girlfriend as we gaze into each other’s eyes, and a part of me wants to kiss her right here at the party- and I can tell that a part of her wants to kiss me too…

“Hey you two!” Jamie says, snapping us both out of our ‘trance’ as she sits down next to us. “Enjoying your party?”

“It’s awesome,” I enthuse. “Even better than last year’s, hehe!”

“22 is the new 21,” Jamie says with a giggle. “Though Mary’s question… Yeah.”

“Yeah,” Kayla whispers.

“I did have a chat with Joshua,” Jamie explains. “After you two spoke to him. We kinda agree that keeping a relationship private when you’re famous, like you two, is kinda wishful thinking. And a relationship between two members of the same band is unprecedented- then again, it’s not the only thing about the band that’s unprecedented, heh.”

“But it should still be our decision,” Kayla says. “About, you know, who to tell and when to tell them…”

“Oh- definitely,” Jamie says. “But I saw how awkward you were when Mary asked her question. And I can tell you right now that she would offer you nothing but support if you told her. The same goes for literally every person in this room. Even if you were to get up and tell them right now, all that would happen is they would probably celebrate even more. And they’d all guarantee your privacy as well.” For all our disagreements, I’m forced to concede that Jamie is right. The ‘extended family’ always looks after its own, and even after all I’ve done over the past few years, even after all the lies I’ve told, the fact that so many have showed up to celebrate my birthday proves that beyond a doubt. And yet, I can immediately tell that the idea of telling just one other person is making Kayla tense up.

“…In our own time,” I say, smiling nervously as Kayla nods.

“It’s your decision,” Jamie shrugs. “I just have one other piece of advice for you.”

“Which is?” I ask.

“Enjoy your party!” Jamie replies, giving me and Kayla a gentle hug each before heading off to dance with her husband.

Kayla and I do enjoy the rest of the party- even if we do enjoy it separately, rather than as a couple. We also enjoy the rest of the night after we head home, even if we do end up sleeping in separate beds once again. And we enjoy the following morning’s regular all-Angel ballet lesson, even I’m the one who dances in the fancy tutu and pointe shoes while Kayla stays on the side in her leotard, pretending to be ‘just a friend’, just like most of the other girls believe us to be.

I’m happy with the arrangement as it is now- I don’t have to lie to the people closest to me and Kayla and I are closer than ever. As the party proves, though, things are far from perfect. However, the fact that Kayla wasn’t just okay with telling our friends, but actually suggested it, tells me that things are finally moving in the right direction- I just wish they could move a bit faster, that’s all…