Chapter Text
2019 October 12: Saturday
The rooftop door opened, startling Christine and the boy she was kissing enough for them to stop. “I knew I could find you up here,” Paige smirked, “you always did like rooftops.”
“Hey tall girl, you’re very pretty. Sorry but i forgot your name,” the boy said with a drunken innocence.
“I’m Paige, Christine’s…old roommate. A friend.”
“Oh my god they were roommates.” The boy practically giggled as he said it. “’m Stef by way, Stefan Riley.”
Paige noted how Stef seemed to cringe a little when saying his full name. Very interesting. “Well you’re pretty cute too, Stef.”
The faintest hint of a blush appeared on his cheeks. “Thanks. Wait if you were roommates, does that mean you know about Dorley Hall?”
Oh.
Paige was not prepared to hear her home’s name spoken by a boy with such hushed tones. Reeling, she glanced at Christine, who had fished a small syringe from her purse. Paige knew exactly what she was planning to do.
Still, she sweetly asked, “Christine, what are you doing?”
“Paige, he said he knew something about Dorley Hall”
Paige raised an eyebrow. “So? The solution would be to find out what he knows before we take any action. What were you going to do? Pawn a drunk boy off on some unsuspecting sponsor claiming he did something horrendous?”
Christine cringed, realizing that her ill-thought out plan was immediately discovered.
Paige pinched the bridge of her nose. “Alright, Christine, no. Bad. We have another option here. He’s still on the roof with just us, nobody else will hear him.”
“It’s true though, right?” Stef asked, “You’re both trans?”
While Christine froze up, Paige was a little more prepared. “Now why on Earth would you think that, Stef?”
“’cuz you’re from Dorley. Or Christine is and her old roommate is tall and pretty.”
“Why would you think that about Dorley Hall? Are you hiding something about yourself, Stef Riley?”
He shrank. Only a simple “er” managed to slip out of his throat.
Paige was all too familiar with that look. It permeated the makeup rooms and runway backstages more than she'd like to admit. She pulled her gaze off of him, and started talking to Christine again. “New plan. We bring him home, keep him company, and figure out what he's talking about somewhere quiet and safe.”
“You really think we’re allowed to do that?”
“It’s an emergency. And it’s better than your plan. Which we could still do if we have to.”
“I think my best friend went there.” Stef had apparently gathered enough courage to interrupt. “She was like, my big brother growing up. I think she goes by Melissa now.”
“Abby’s girl,” Christine whispered.
“Message Abby, she’ll back us up. Then tell the hall to be on their best behaviour.” Paige stood, then extended her hand to Stef, “come on, get up.”
Stef took it, then stood with only a slight wooziness. “Wherearewegoing?”
“You wanted to learn about the Hall, right?” Paige smirked, “We’ll show you.”
Their walk back to Dorley was rather pleasant, if uneventful, Stef relayed his previous conversations about his family and life to Paige, who then playfully needled Christine about kissing the first nice boy she met at her first college party. Stef, for the first time since Melissa left, felt comfortable in his own skin. Maybe it was the stars, maybe it was the weed, maybe it was the booze, maybe it was the revelation that Christine usually preferred girls.
They brought him to the imposing, six-story, brick building. The dark old-growth forest behind it lent an eternal weight, as if the Hall had always been there and would continue to into the far future. Christine unlocked the door and ushered them inside. Paige led the way up two flights of the grand staircase. Stef marveled at the finely crafted wood, stone, and brass; far more opulent than he was expecting. More questions began piling up—this place screamed history around every corner.
Paige’s room, on the other hand, felt like a dorm room. It was undeniably nicer than the one he slept last night, but still, a dorm. And the wardrobes seemed to be overflowing with clothes.
“Abby said she'd be a little while,” Christine said, as Paige continued frantically texting. “So... Stef?”
“Y-yeah,” he said, hiccuping. “’m Stef, for sure.”
“We're…keeping you with us for a little bit. You're spending the night, is that okay?” Christine quietly said, with a saccharine sweetness. A mum’s voice, undeniably. It made him feel less weird at the prospect of sleeping in a strange girls’ dorm.
“T-that's fine,” Stef said. “You said something about Em being…” He sighed awkwardly, his vision slightly blurry from the weed and the alcohol that he’d shared with Christine. It was a surprise that she was so lucid. Must’ve been the shock to sober her up a bit. “…Abby's girl. C-could I meet Abby?”
“You will in just a few,” Paige said, having finally stopped messing with her phone and collapsed onto the empty portion of the bed. “For now, why don’t you tell us what you know and what you want to know about the Hall?”
He took a deep breath, trying to calm his fidgeting hand. “I know Saints has a small problem of students dis-appearing. All universities do. But, but Saints seems to be the only one to have g-girls that look like the disappeared boys start attending.”
Christine was nodding and frowning at the same time. Paige just listened.
“The only thing linking them together…is this building. I think they tran-sitioned here, and faked dis-appearances because it was easier, like their families were unsupportive.” He paused, trying to hold himself together “’swhy I asked if you were trans.”
A small smile formed on Paige’s face. “You’re closer than you think. We’re pretty guarded about ourselves, but I can see why you might try unearthing our secrets. Because it’s not just for Melissa right? You’re trying to learn for yourself?”
The question shattered Stef’s armour. He was flailing. She had seen him in a way Christine hadn’t at the party. All he could do without fully breaking down was nod.
“Do you need a hug?”
He nodded.
Both girls wrapped their arms around him. No judgement. Christine even planted a small kiss on his head. He might be a puddle of inexplicable emotions, but at least they cared enough to not shame him for it.
The hug went on for longer than he was expecting. “I-I-Ineedtousethebathroom,” he finally said to break it up. Paige & Christine relented, and Paige pointed to hers. He managed to enter it without fumbling the handle too much.
A knock on the door. “It’s me, Abby.”
“Come in.”
As the door closed behind her, she asked, “Chrissy Fucking Hale, what the hell did you mean when you said you were bringing Melissa Bloody Haverford’s friend here?”
“He knows, Abby. He worked it out himself.”
“She’s in the bathroom right now,” Paige added dryly.
“She?” Abby and Christine asked at the same time.
“I’m like 99% sure we have a Vicky situation on our hands.”
Groans followed. “I don’t believe it.”
“Believe it Abs, because my plan was to just basement him. Paige managed to convince me to bring him up here. Stef’s a sweet gu—person. And wants a friend back.”
“She’s just saying that because they kissed.”
Abby looked playfully shocked, “Chrissy Hale, a boykisser?”
“Eggkisser,” Paige corrected.
The bathroom door opened. There, Stef stood looking calm, slightly puffy-eyed. “You’re Abby, I take it?”
“That’s me. Why don’t you have a seat and tell me what you think you know about Melissa.”
Stef did. “I saw her a little over a year after Mark’s death. At Tesco. We were in the self-checkouts next to each other. She dropped her debit card, and I picked it up for her.”
How sweet, Paige thought.
“That’s how I knew her name. But she looked like she saw a ghost when she saw me, and ran off without her shopping. A mistake in January, because she slipped on some ice and fell. When she thanked me for helping her up and bringing her shopping, she sounded like Russ’s mum. And she looked like a Vogel. Thought she was a relative.”
Abby was nodding the whole time, like she knew the story by heart.
“But after we reminisced about Mark for a second, she told me ‘I’m sure he’d miss you too, Stef.’ The thing is, I never told her my name. And Mark and Russ were the only people who called me that. Well, before you lot.”
Suddenly, Paige felt significantly closer to Stef, who had trusted her enough to use a name that was only used by the closest of friends. Siblings, practically.
“I knew she had to be Mark. So I did a bunch of research on Saints and the,”—Stef giggled—“mysterious Dorley Hall. Found students who disappeared and mysteriously similar trans women popping up two or three years later. Read that the Hall was for disadvantaged women. And trans women with unsupportive families are definitely disadvantaged, especially with what the whole media turned against you. I figured faking a death might be easier than whatever the NHS has you do.”
Abby laughed grimly, “Wow Chrissy, you were right. He knows way too much.” She focused her attention on Stef. “Before I tell you anything else, Stef, I need to know for security reasons: have you told anyone else about this?”
“Wh-what? No. I tried telling Russ but he wouldn’t listen. And I couldn’t tell anyone else,”—a giggle—“it just sounds too ridiculous.”
“Good girl. Then can you promise not to share what I’m about to tell you?” Abby was putting on her Sponsor Voice. “Say ‘I understand and agree’.”
A troubled face appeared on Stef, but still said, “I understand and agree.”
“You’re right. Melissa did fake her death. She knew her dad would never accept her. She thought her friends her better off without her. I brought her here because it looked like she was actually gonna die. After she transitioned and…moved on from here, she said her only regret was not being able to tell you.” Stef seemed moved by Abby’s revelation. “I think I know why, now. You came here to find us?”
“Yep. Saints was my first and only choice. But in the two years I’ve been here, no one has ever told me how to get help from you.”
Paige swears she hears Christine mutter “guess OPSEC’s not as shit as I thought.”
“And I look like too much of a man now…”
Well that just won’t do. Can’t have a baby trans spiral like that.
“Stef, look at me. You see a man here?”
“N-no.”
Paige stood up. “Any hint of a man?”
“N-no.” Stef was faltering.
Paige now towered over Stef, leveraging her full 6 feet. “I started my transition at the same age you are now. And look at me. This could be you in two years.”
“Are you sure—” Abby tried to ask a question.
“I will pay for the hormones out of my own pocket if I have to!” Paige declared.
“All you have to do is want it, sweetie.” Christine was turning up her charm. “You can just choose to be a girl. You can just ask for our help.”
It couldn’t be that simple, right? He couldn’t just say he wanted it, right? But…these girls…these women are all telling him he can. Paige even offered to pay for hormones herself? The last time someone offered to do something that nice for him was…fuck, it was so long ago.
So just say yes, Stef. Why can’t you just say yes? You want it, right? More than anything? That’s why you came here, right?
“I…think I want it. But what if I secretly don’t?” He tried weaving his thoughts into a coherent…rug? But he couldn’t seem to tie himself into the knots he usually did. “What if I’m bad at being a girl?”
“Oh Stef, we specialise in making good girls,” Abby grinned.
“You’re in the room of the best-dressed woman at Dorley Hall, maybe even all of Almsworth.” Christine had looped her arm around his shoulder earlier, and now pulled him in tight.
Stef could’ve sworn he heard a bit of pining in Christine’s voice.
“Not only the best dress, but the best makeup too.” Paige whipped back around from her vanity to Stef. “I can contour. Christine, can you grab your foundation? She’s a few shades light than me, but only like one lighter than you. And some eye makeup you’re willing to part with.”
It took Stef a moment to realize the pronoun switch.
“On it,” Christine said as she peeled herself off of Stef and out the door, presumably to her room.
“Now, let’s take a look at my closet and see if we can pull you out of it.”
“I’m—in your closet?”
“In the closet, you egg,” Abby remarked from across the room. “You’re a girl and you liked kissing another girl. That’s pretty gay.”
Stef thought about disputing, but it seemed pointless. He’d spilled his guts to these women and they saw everything. They knew. And it would’ve thrilled him if he wasn’t so scared.
Well, that dress Paige found is just plain thrilling.
It was a royal blue number, sleeveless, with a high white collar. White pinstripes ran down the length of the dress, and more seemed to appear below the decorative white belt. It was a statement more than a dress. And one Paige intended Stef to make.
“Do you like it? Of course you do, I know that look.”
Stef gulped. It was real now.
Christine let herself back into the room, with a handful of makeup…things. She dropped them off on Paige’s vanity and joined Abby at the desk. Probably working on whatever “security” things they kept mentioning.
“Sit down.” Paige’s voice now had an edge to it. She was taking control.
Stef complied.
“I’m going to do your face, okay?” She asked it like Stef would ever actually refuse.
Stef nodded. “So…contouring? Why that?”
“I can tell you hate your face.” Paige loaded up pigment into a sponge. “I get it, you think it looks male. Christine, Abby, and I can see what you’ll look like as a woman, but you can’t. Not yet.” The makeup was brushed on Stef’s jaw. “And since I can’t snap my fingers and give you months of hormone changes right now, contouring is the next best thing.”
“And it works?”
“Light and shadow. That’s how we see shapes. Ever notice how people look different at a dark party than outside in broad daylight? Contouring is just that, but deliberately. You said you had a little sister, right?”
Stef smiled. “Petra, she’s 11.”
“I could make her look like a Tottenham player. Or a divorced dad of three.”
“What?”
“I’ve seen it,” Christine said from across the room. “A couple graduates have gone to the campus Drag Ball as kings.”
“Wow.”
“So I’m doing contouring to soften your brow and jaw. Lipstick next, to bring out their lovely shape.”
Wait, Paige thought his lips were lovely?
She peeled off the wrapper of a fresh lipstick. “This color isn’t for me, but it’s definitely you. Keep it.” She must’ve seen Stef’s reticence. “Rule number one: if it touches your face, don’t share it. I don’t want this back.”
“Then why did you buy it?”
“I didn’t. Spread your lips for me, like this.” Paige made a strange face. Stef mimicked. Paige began applying. “Perks of the job. A brand sent me a few colors to show off. I knew this one wouldn’t work, so I didn’t wear it. Now rub your lips together and pop.” Again, Paige showed and Stef followed.
“What’s your job?”
“Instagram Influencer. Roll your eyes now, before I do them.” Paige had grabbed what looked like a watercolour pallette. “Brands pay me to show off their products. Mostly fashion, some makeup.” She started brushing some pink onto Stef’s cheeks. “And I slip a bit of advocacy in between the glamour. But that’s why we’re in my room, not Christine’s. I have the wardrobe.”
“She already took over another girl’s room,” Abby snarked. “It’s practically a walk-in closet now.”
“So where does she sleep?” Stef asked.
“She moved out at the beginning of term.” Christine said. “She’s cis, and lives off-campus with her new girlfriend.”
“How did she end up here then?”
Paige held a new pallette and a new brush. “Close your eyes for me? Good girl. Vicky just had an awful life. Not everyone who comes through Dorley is trans, I’d recommend not asking their backstories unless you’re friends with them.”
Having a brush put powder on a closed eyelid was a new feeling for Stef, but he didn’t hate it. He was surprised just how little he hated this makeover, this conversation. He was never able to bring himself to buy eyeliner and put it on, he thought he’d poke his eye out. But Paige…she knew it all. Knew what to do, and how to do it. Stef envied her.
He heard a light switch click. “You can open your eyes now,” Paige said. The vanity lights were off, and she was blocking the view to the mirror. “You’re gonna put the dress on now, okay?”
They all sensed his hesitation. Abby was the first to jump in. “You don’t have to worry about us seeing you change. We’ve all been there. I remember when I was uncomfortable with my body, of being afraid to be seen. But it’s distant. Haven’t felt that way for nine years.”
“Nine? Years?”
“Yep, transitioned here, now I do admin work for the Hall.” Abby smiled, “It gets so, so much better Stef.”
“The only way you’re going to get comfortable is to just do it. We’re all girls here, and we’re not worried about you hurting us,” Christine added.
“You could just put it on over your tank top, but it would mess with the lines of the dress. And I want you to feel how the dress sits on you, not just how it looks in the mirror.” What Paige said made sense, even if he wasn’t fully prepared. “We won’t leer at you while you change, promise. Well, Christine might. After all, you two did kiss a few times.”
“Hey!” Christine gave Paige a playful slap, before walking over and gently placing her hands on Stef’s shoulder. “I promise this isn’t us trying to humiliate you. We think you’re gonna like it, but you don’t have to do this. You can take it slower.”
Stef took a deep breath as Christine’s hands trailed down his arms and held his hands. “No. In with both feet, right?”
“Actually, you put your feet into the dress one at a time,” Paige joked.
So Stef did. Boy clothes off. Each leg into the dress. Each arm in an arm hole. The zipper up the back—had to ask for help. And Paige was right, the fabric felt good against bare skin.
Paige stepped out of the way of the mirror. She turned the lights back on.
“Oh…that’s…that’s…her.” Stef stepped forward.
It really was that simple.
“That’s the girl we all see, that’s you.” Paige grinned.
Stef put her fingers against the mirror. She was real. She stared. Her mirror image stared back. She pushed off her mirror self, then gave her dress a little twirl.