The ride was quiet.
I didn't say anything.
I just stared ahead.
My phone buzzed.
I looked down.
Sarah.
"So… did you cut it?"
I froze.
I hadn't told her.
"How do you know?" I typed.
She replied quickly.
"I saw your streak."
I frowned slightly.
That didn't make sense.
"Oh," I replied.
I locked my phone.
Something felt off.
But I couldn't explain it.
I ran my hand through my hair slowly.
Trying to convince myself.
It's fine.
You'll look fine.
It didn't feel true.
"We're here," my mom said.
I looked up.
A clothing store
Of course.
We didn't go to a normal store.
My mom parked in front of a quiet building that didn't even look open to the public.
"This is unnecessary," I muttered.
"It's already arranged," she said.
Of course it was.
Inside, a woman was waiting.
She looked me up and down the second we walked in.
"Good afternoon," she said. "You must be—"
"Andrew," my mom cut in.
The woman paused for half a second.
Then nodded.
"Right. Andrew."
Her eyes lingered on me a little too long.
"I thought…" she hesitated slightly, "…never mind. This way."
I knew what she was going to say.
I didn't say anything.
The room we entered was too open.
Too bright.
A mirror stood right in front like it was waiting for me.
"Step up," she said.
I did, slowly.
She grabbed a measuring tape.
"Arms up.
I raised them.
She started with my shoulders, adjusting my shirt.
Then her hands moved lower.
She paused.
Just for a second.
I felt it.
That tiny hesitation.
Then she continued like nothing happened.
"Stand straight," she said.
I forced my back up.
My face was already hot.
She stepped back and reached for something.
Then handed it to me.
Boxers.
My stomach dropped again.
"You'll change into these," she said.
I didn't move.
My mom's voice came from behind me..
"You won't need panties anymore."
I swear time stopped.
"Mum…" I said under my breath.
"Go change," she repeated, calm like she was talking about the weather.
The woman avoided looking at me directly now.
That somehow made it worse.
Inside the changing area, I locked the door quickly.
My hands felt shaky as I changed.
For a second, I just stood there.
In the mirror.
I looked… the same.
But not at the same time.
I crossed my arms over my chest without thinking.
Like I needed to cover it.
Even though there wasn't much to cover.
That thought alone made my chest tighten.
I dropped my arms immediately.
Why did that even matter?
I didn't know anymore.
"Are you done?"
"…Yeah."
I stepped out.
The woman looked at me again.
This time, more carefully.
Professional.
But I still caught it.
That look.
Like she was comparing something in her head.
"Turn," she said.
I turned.
She adjusted the waistband slightly.
Then stepped closer again.
Her hands hovered for a second near my upper body…
Then she just moved them away and fixed the shirt instead.
"Stand straight."
I did.
I didn't know where to look.
Not at her.
Not at my mom.
Definitely not at the mirror.
"You'll need a flatter fit here," she said casually.
I froze.
My mom nodded like it was normal.
"Of course."
Flatter.
The word sat heavy in my chest.
She brought out more clothes.
Shirts.
Jackets.
"Try this."
I changed again.
And again.
Each time stepping out felt worse.
Each time I avoided the mirror more.
At one point, the shirt clung just enough that I instinctively pulled at it.
The woman noticed.
"It's fine," she said quickly. "It reads masculine."
Reads.
Like I was something to interpret.
Not a person.
After a while, my mom finally said,
"That's enough."
I felt relief immediately.
But it didn't last.
Because I knew…
this wasn't the end.
Just the start.
I glanced at the mirror one last time.
I didn't recognize what I was looking at anymore.
And the worst part?
Other people were starting to believe it..