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For Regect and Moe, they’ve always known Ze was a man. There was no struggle with that whatsoever- it’s what they knew him as, so that’s who he was. Even if he didn’t have the ability to transition yet, no matter how “feminine” his voice sounded, he was still a man.
But some part of Ze hated that they accepted him so easily. If they both could, why couldn’t his sisters get the hang of it? Why did his Dad have to be so against it? He just wanted to be happy, that’s all he knew. That’s all he wanted to be, no matter what it took, and if it took being a man then he would be one.
Never once was it necessarily a complicated thing for him. He was surrounded by friends for a long while that reassured him he could be who he wanted. He lived in a safe space, in a comfortable box, and was even encouraged thanks to another individual going through with a transition as well.
But, eventually, he’d have to step out of that box into a world that wasn’t so accepting. A world that would judge his choices, a world that didn’t want him, and only wanted “her”.
A father that only wanted “her”.
“No you’re not?!” His Dad was furious, as he expected. It’s why he said he’d be transitioning over the phone- he was scared for his safety if it had been in-person. “No, the fuck you are not. Do you even understand what you’re getting yourself into?” He could already feel the tears in his eyes. “You just became an adult. You don’t know what the fuck you’re doing with you’re life. None of us did! None of us fucking knew! But you think your solution is drugging yourself?!” God, he wanted to just hang up. He should’ve hung up.
“Do you know how many freakshows like you kill themselves every day, because they realize they can’t go back to who they were? Do you know how many people regret doing this?” Do you? He so badly wanted to retort, but every word was swallowed by a shaky exhale and another set of tears down his cheeks. “Do you know how many of these freaks end up being school shooters because they aren’t happy with themselves anymore? Because they can’t live the prissy life they were promised in their little online friend groups?!” God, he wanted to vomit. His father was wrong, oh so wrong, and he knew that-
“And you know I’m right.” He says it like a fact, even though Ze knows it’s not. It’s all bullshit, any Google search would tell anyone otherwise. “You need to get a life, get a job, get therapy that is going to tell you straight that you are mentally fucking ill and actually get you real help instead of affirming whatever bullshit you’re thinking about!”
“Let me tell you this: no matter what fucking drugs you take, no matter what you chop off and sew on and mutilate your body with, you will NEVER be a man. EVER.” Unfortunately, one of the sobs breaks through his lungs.
“Do you know how hard it is being a man?!” He almost laughs. Almost, if not for the held-back sobs suffocating him. “It ain’t fucking easy. You wanna be a man so bad? You wanna go sign up for the fucking draft and go to war?! Be my fucking guest, since you wanna be a man so badly.”
“... You know I’m saying all of this because I care about you. Because I love you.” His stomach twists. “Get actual help. Or don’t, and fuck up your body, I can’t stop you since you’re an adult. But my advice? Coming from your Dad? Get. Help.”
“Okay?”
“O–ka-ay-”
“I love you.”
“L—ove you t-too…”
“Okay. Bye.”
“Bye-e.”
That was only a few months ago, but that call has been plaguing him no matter how hard he tries to pry his mental state away from it. Before he even called his Dad, he had the resources to start his injection- he was just being courteous of letting him know before he started. But now? Now, hesitation pulled at that initial eagerness, leaving a deep pit in his stomach at the thought of himself and his identity.
Suddenly, he stopped binding, stopped trying to lower his voice, and would’ve stopped wearing baggy “men’s” clothes if he had anything else in his possession. It was a quick change, unprompted in Regect and Moe’s eyes, but throughout the morning they didn't mention it.
But during their lunchtime lounge time, he suddenly spoke up- requiring Regect to pause the TV, not before an “annoyed” quip from the entity. “Yeah, whatever, thanks asshole.” Ze snorted at Regect, earning a middle finger- which was quick to be reciprocated. But suddenly his posture shifted, something concerned and tense in it.
“Can you guys just… This is stupid, I know, but just.. try to use like.. “girl pronouns” on me? Really quick? I-I just want to see something.” Regect and Moe blink in unison, then look at each other- something unsaid in their eyes- before they turn back to him and nod. “Uhhh..huh. Sure. Sure dude- uh… like..?”
“Like just have a conversation or something, about me, but- b-but like as a girl instead.”
“Whatever dude. Sure.” Regect, who’s seated in the middle of Ze and Moe, turns to the clown and pries a clawed hand out of his crossed arms and waves it as he talks. “So, like, Ze totally ruined one of my awesome builds.”
“Honk honk?!”
“Yeah- she said it was like… “Too obstructive”? Like- h..she just was being a big chud about it.” Ze’s eyelids twitch, but he doesn’t blink. He just watches them both.
“Honk honk… Honkhonk honk ho-honk?” Moe inquires, and Regect huffs. “Okay, yeah, she said it was obstructive because it “blocked the house” or whatever. So I told her, I said, “It’s barely even that big!”, and then she was like, “Yeah it is, dude! It reaches the border of the world!”, so I was like—”
“Okay.” Ze interrupts, and both Moe and Regect pause and turn to him. “Th-That’s uh.. that’s enough. Thanks. Sorry.” Moe immediately frowns. “Hooonk-honk?”
“I’m just- I’m sorry because-- I-I don’t know, I made you do something stupid? It’s fine, I’m just… I’ll be good.”
Regect’s eye trails Ze’s body, before landing on his face. “If you.. y’know.. wanna talk about it, we’re here man.” He mumbles quietly, but he gets Ze shaking his head in response. “No- no, i-it’s nothing, I’m not.. worrying you guys with my bullshit.”
Moe suddenly shifts, standing from her end of the couch to sidestep and plop herself between Ze and the armrest of the couch. There’s not much room, but she makes herself fit- and Ze moves a bit after he realizes she’s not moving any time soon.
And, carefully, as if Ze would crack like a porcelain doll if she moved any faster, she enveloped him into a side-hug.
Ze refused to admit his eyes were watering. He refused to admit that he carefully placed a shaking hand on the arm around his chest, and he refused to admit that he let his head carefully lay on top of hers. But it became harder to ignore when Regect joined the pile, squeezing him in-between them both.
His shoulders shook, and one circle gently swirled on his back by Moe’s hand made him crack with an ugly cough of a sob. He sniffled hard shortly after, shaking his head as he lifted it from Moe’s. “I-It’s just- it’s… I don’t want to be like this, y’know?” He laughs, but it’s barely that and more another set of sobs.
“If I could be comfortable as a girl, I would- God I would! I really would- I just.. I just can’t. Every time I’m seen as a girl, I get this.. numbness in my core, like I-I just can’t accept it, and I just wish I could!” His sobs become more desperate, a mental break that neither Regect nor Moe had seen- none that Ze would’ve shown them, anyway. They both look at each other from across their sides of Ze, concerned frowns and downturned eyes unseen by the protagonist.
“I’m- I’m trying so hard to not be.. n-not be trans, okay?” He sobs and sniffles, lurching forward to slam his face into his awaiting palms. He weeps, and the other two slowly rub his back and lean their weight against him reassuringly. “I don’t want to make it everyone else’s problem that they suddenly have to see me as a man, no matter how long they’ve known me as a woman before! A-And I don’t want to be attention-seeking, or seem desperate, or anything like that! God, God I just want to be me! Why is that so fucking hard?!” His voice has reached a louder level, before tapering off into more sobs.
“That’s…” Regect struggled to form words of comfort, a shaky inhale in the place of motivational ramblings. Luckily, it seemed Moe had some choice words, devolving into smooth honks as she continuously rubbed Ze’s back through it all. Regect nodded along, before noticing her own speech starting to trail off, and he began anew with her points to fuel him.
“Yeah! Like Moe said, it shouldn’t… be such a big thing for people. And if they can’t accept you, then you’re not worth their time, y’know? Besides- you got me and Moe, and Msak, ‘n even Wakafonte! Like, sure, that old box of rocks might not be worth much of anything when it comes to support, but he still cares about you enough to let you- and all of us- stay here with him. You know what I’m saying?” Regect has also been moving his claws up and down against Ze’s back in time with Moe, gentle touches letting the sobbing man know he wasn’t alone. Ze just nodded with a sniffle.
“It feels like it’s.. i-it’s more than just having that support. I’m gonna end up finding people who are gonna be like- “Oh, why are you calling her a man? That’s weird!” o-or something, and I’ll have to explain, and make a big scene just because I want to be- b-be me?” He coughs up another sob, but the complete breakdown has subsided enough for him to finally talk semi-coherantly again. “But that’s only temporary, right? You get to.. change your name if you want, like legally, and then when you start your transition you won’t have to explain anything because you’ll sound more masculine. People are gonna just.. assume you’re a man, because you are, y’know? Like, you really do look like one, even without any testosterone, and soon enough you’ll sound like one too.” The entity pauses a bit, biting his tongue, hoping his words were enough to soothe the one crying next to him. Comforting people with words was never his forte.
Ze nods. “Yeah- yeah, I know. I-I know.” He sighs, suddenly, burying his face again into his hands. “I just wish I didn’t want to be a man.” Both Moe and Regect lean just a bit closer- Moe leaning her chin against his shoulder, while Regect pressed his invisible head to his shoulder.
“... Thanks guys.” Ze carefully moves his hands from his face, then envelops the other two in his arms. “Thank you so much.”
“Of course, man.” “Honk-a honk honk!”
His eyes peel away from the monitor, exhaustion pulling on his swollen and soggy eyes as the white noise of his laptop fans whirring from the excessive use. He stares at his avatar on the screen for a long moment before he eventually leans back in his chair, daggers of pain meeting the movement in his back and thighs. A sniffle, a wipe of his eyes, and he’s turning away from the screen to stand.
Opening one of the many drawers of his dresser, he finds the hidden storage of his testosterone and syringes that he’d gotten months ago. A shaking hand reaches out to grasp one of the vials he’s already taken out of the box many weeks ago, and he turns the glass in his hand.
He gives one glance to the screen he’d been sitting at for hours.
And he reaches for the bag of injection supplies.