Q .B

O.B.

The Fragility of Reality

Q.B.

Chapter One

I remember the day my mother told me I would be destined to be forever in the middle of happiness and unsatisfied. That, even as I had my first injection of testosterone at thirteen and watched my body transform to match my insides, there’d always be one part of me that never matched up.

k

It was summer, breezy but hot; I was about ten at the time, slowly discovering the truths of the world but not fully understanding. It was a pool party, and as I stared at the depths of King’s pool, a heavy weight settled around my chest. I stretched my arms, wiggled them, but the weight remained. Everyone else but my mother was oblivious to my discomfort, splashing in the pool, screaming, giggling, slurping on ice cream.

She tapped my shoulder, and I flinched. Her dark hazel eyes stared into mine, and I shifted my feet. “What is it, hon?” she asked, leaning close.

I touched my chest, the weight growing heavier. I sighed, stared at the pool, and imagined ripping off my shirt to reveal a bare chest. “I don’t...like my chest,” I whispered, trembling. “I want it to be bare, like Daddy’s.”

Her eyes were empathetic, but there was something else my ten-year-old self couldn’t place. “Listen...there is a way to achieve that, but...it’s dangerous.”

“Why?” I whispered.

Her eyes narrowed. “There’s a price.”

In my mind, the sky darkened. The loud laughter of the children dissipated, and I could only stare into my mother’s hazel eyes. I was able to place the emotion behind them then: fear.

Somehow, my ten-year-old self understood that the weight would never go away, and I would be stuck between happy and unsatisfied.

k

I glance at my boyfriend, Dan. His eyes are a forest green, and his blonde, tousled hair glitters from the sunlight reflecting off the San Francisco Bay.

My heart is a drum, and I can only repeat my mother’s answer in my head, my body trembling. My binder presses on my chest, which is even heavier now. The gentle lapping of the waves does nothing to calm me.

“What do you want most in the world?” he repeats, voice soft, his fingers tracing circles on my hand.

Such a seemingly simple question. I could lie, make something up; but is it really fair to the boy who has shared everything with me? One of the few I feel comfortable speaking to?

I stutter. I can see the glimmering reflection of someone I once knew, a trans guy friend of mine in the bay. He is bare-chested, but a furry tail waves behind. As I take another breath, he’s gone, just like he was when he appeared at school with a tail.

Daniel’s eyes don’t leave my face. I take another breath. “Top surgery...” The answer should be harmless, but it’s not.

He grips my hand, leans close to me. “That’s dangerous, dude. You know what happens to people who do that...they come back strange, and poof, they’re gone. They disappear.”

“They don’t disappear; not all of them. That game show...I’ve seen them on it.” I spit.

His eyes flicker, eyebrows knitting. I begin to shake again; he grips my hand harder. Dan rolls his tongue, speaks. “What happened to that trans guy you knew?”

I’m trembling harder. “I never watched the show. I just heard about it. Sometimes I can hear the show on my mom’s TV, and I’ve heard their names....”

Daniel sighs. “Just be careful.”

I nod, pulling him close to me and never letting go.

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My hands shake, dropping the letter.

The doorbell screeched through the house and made me jump. I sighed, stood up, and shot an apologetic glance at my two friends...at my two friends who had opted to shove popcorn in their faces rather than study, like we had planned to do. The door creaked as I opened it, its old rusty hinges slowly decaying.

I stilled, my hand still clutching the doorknob, shaking. “Kyle...what?”

Their face was streaked with tears, and their body shook furiously; I thought that they might fall over. Clutched in their hand was a cream-colored envelope. I gulped, a bead of sweat racing down my forehead. “Come in?”

They didn’t move, their blue eyes staring into mine. My hands shook harder, and I shoved them into my dark blue jeans. Kyle’s eyes flickered, their hand extending to give me the envelope. It slipped from their fingers, and my shaky hands hardly caught it.

My stomach twisted into knots as I fumbled with the envelope, my eyes glossing over the trans flag with a medical staff in the middle. My heart pounded in my ears as I read the letter. “How...who did you tell?’”

Kyle shrugged, biting their lip. They were frighteningly still, face blank, devoid of the tears I had witnessed seconds before. “Doesn’t matter, Jay. They’ll come for me—”

I reached out and gripped their hand. “You don’t have to do the surgery, Kyle— stay with me—I’ll protect you.” My heartbeat was slowly becoming louder, and my hands shook in Kyle’s; theirs didn’t.

They shook their head, and I gripped their hands tighter. “Please?’’ I whispered.

“I just thought you should know.” They squeezed my hands. I didn’t let go. They yanked away, descending the stairs to my house. Their shoulders were hunched in grim acceptance.

That was the last time I saw them.

And now, the same exact letter they had given me was on the cement porch step in front of me.

This was not real. It was a nightmare. My heart wasn’t the only thing I could hear, my legs were not sticks, and I was not sinking to the gritty ground. My breath wasn’t coming in gasps, and my hands weren’t tearing the letter to shreds.

“Just thought you should know.”

Do I tell Dan? Or do I not tell anyone, keep myself hidden away?

No—this is not happening; this is not real. This shaking figure on the ground was not me.

“Who did you tell?”

The name on my tongue is gone as soon as it appears. But it doesn’t matter, because I didn’t tell anyone, and this is not happening to me. The day with Da—

“No!” I clutch my arms—no, the figure on the ground clutches their arms.

“They’ll come for me.”

The figure on the ground shakes their head.

They’ll come.

It’s all a bad dream—

They’ll come.

k

I twirl my empty Starbucks coffee cup in my hands, eyeing the pink-haired girl who sits across from me, leaning back in her wooden chair. The clacking sound of keyboards sets me on edge. Cocking my eyebrow, and willing my rapid heartbeat to stop, I speak.

“I...that seat’s taken.’’

The girl glances around the room, her pink hair swishing in her face. “I don’t see anyone.”

I gulp, clutching the coffee cup. “He’s—my boyfriend—he’s coming any minute. He said he’d be here at 9:50...” I stop, the cup bending in my hand. I meet the girl’s auburn eyes, a slight glint in them. “Sorry...I’m just…”

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The girl chuckles, rolling up the sleeve of her black sweater and checking her watch. “It’s past that.” She leans forward. “Besides, your boyfriend can wait.”

My stomach sinks to the ground. Lies in a bloody heap. The shakiness in my limbs that has plagued me from morning increases. “What...do you want?”

The girl cocks her head, and I gulp. “What do you want most in the world?”

My cup clatters to the ground. How does she know? I haven’t told anyone except for—that was someone else, some other world. Avoiding the girl’s gaze, I pick up the cup, gripping the table as I sit up.

“You seem nervous.” She reaches her hand out, her pink nails glinting, and lays her hand on mine.

“I—” I pull my hand away, my heart in my ears. I draw out my phone, which shakes and clatters onto the table. I snatch it, stumbling out of my chair. “Leave me alone,” I hiss.

The chair falls, banging onto the hardwood. Wincing, I back away, tripping on my feet. My breathing comes in gasps. Nearly running, I push the door open, turning my head for one last look.

She smiles. “What do you want most in the world?”

The door slams shut.

k

“What do you want most in the world?”

I lean against the wall of the alley, shaking. I could not breathe fully, so I had to pull into the alley. In the distance, I can still see the green of the Starbucks sign.

“What do you want most in the world?”

I hold my breath and release it. How could she have known?

Known what?

The letter received.

I shake my head. That didn’t happen. I take another breath.

Dan.

I peer around the corner. He had never come. My breathing quickens. I shrink

against the wall. He would calm me down; he would tell me why he left me with the pink-haired girl and her smile. I breathe in, focusing on the scent of the sea.

They’ll come. I thought you should know. Letter. Dear Jay, we have accepted you for a procedure. Dan and the Bay.

“No!” I whisper.

You have to remember sometime.

I shake my head. There was nothing to remember. There was only Dan and my need for him. I push off the wall, hunching and shuffling out of the alley, breaking into a fast walk. Heading to his house.

k

I flinch as I careen around the crowds of San Francisco, my elbows bumping into strangers. My lungs feel as if they are collapsing into themselves, my breath not sinking as far as it should, nor catching as much air as I need. The tall buildings blur as I nearly run.

“The Red Rose will reveal all your dreams! Your hopes and desires!”

I freeze.

Your dreams.

Slowly, I turn toward the person who is shouting, flinching as a stranger shoves past me. My eyes focus. I wrap my arms around myself. The person is standing in front of a small shop, a red rose painted on its window. The person themself is dressed in all red; even their hair is dyed scarlet.

My stomach knots. I start to back away. Something isn’t right.

Your dreams.

The person turns toward me, their red cloak rustling. My heart thrashes. They grin, digging into their pocket and pulling out a card. It is painted the colors of the trans flag. A silver medical staff shines in the middle.

Your dreams.

I don’t breathe.

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The man grins wider, their bloodred teeth shining in the sunlight. “We can help you.”

Your dreams.

I stumble backward, my heart in my throat and threatening to spill onto the street. “What do you people want?” I whisper, eyes darting. “I...”

Your dreams.

The crowds passing by don’t notice me. I back away farther. They wouldn’t try anything in public, would they? My eyes sweep the street once again. But if the crowds don’t notice…

“To grant you what you desire,” they say, spinning the card in their hand.

Your dreams.

I shake, taking another step backward. “I-I don’t want any ‘desires’ granted—I don’t have any.” That night didn’t happen. I didn’t receive a letter.

The person shrugs, still grinning. “We are Legion. You know where to find us.” The person spins the card one more time, tosses it at me, and opens the door to the shop. “Remember, we are Legion.” The door slams shut.

Your dreams.

I freeze. Shake. Rip the cards to shreds and fight the tide of memories, focused on one word.

Dan.

I turn around.

And run.

k

I skid to a halt, gasping. Breathing heavily still, I bend forward and put my hands on my knees. A sharp pain shoots up my rib. I frown, tug on my binder. Heart rate slowing, I straighten.

Dan’s house is small, square, and painted a bright blue. I smile.

Another shot of pain. Clutching my side, I make my way to Dan’s white door.

I rap on the door, sweat dripping onto my eyebrows.

No answer. No padding feet on wood heading to the door.

“Just be careful,” Dan sighed.

“Where were you?” I whisper, my stomach tightening. “Did I drag you into this? By...” I put my hand on the doorknob, breathe.

I didn’t drag him into anything, because I didn’t tell anyone anything. My binder presses on my chest.

I nodded, pulling him close to me and never letting go.

My shaky hands turn the knob. It gives.

“Dan?” I whisper.

The hallway is empty, the wooden floors and the white walls shining as if new.

Never letting go.

“Dan? Where are you? Why didn’t you come to the coffee shop?” I yell, stepping inside. My voice cracks. I lean against the wall. I can’t breathe.

In and out.

In and out.

I push off the wall, freezing. Something wet is on my hands. Shaking, I bring my hands up to my face. It is coated in white paint.

I can’t breathe. “Dan—Dan? No—no,” I gasp.

Just be careful.

“Why weren’t you...?” I whisper, treading lightly down the wall. “Why didn’t you run when I—”

When I what? Nothing happened.

Never letting you go.

I turn into another hallway, one that leads to Dan’s bedroom. I press my hands into my face. “I let you go. Dan...I’m so sorry. I didn’t know they would do this—just to get to me. You should have run after the sea.”

As I expected, his room is cleaned out, a plain white mattress in the middle of the room. But that doesn’t stop my stomach from knotting tighter.

There’s a price.

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“Is this part of the price, Mom! An additional fee?” I slap the wall, my hand burning. “Is it because I didn’t go soon enough to them? So they took him.” I sink to the floor, gripping my arms. “But. I didn’t tell anyone, because nothing happened...” I rub my face. “I’m sorry, Dan.”

Just be careful.

The boy who has shared everything with me.

The one I feel comfortable talking to.

“I’ll figure out a way to get you back,” I mutter, standing up. My head pounds.

Tracing circles on my hand. Forest green.

I run my hands over my binder. “I’ll do the surgery for you.”

Just be careful.