Finding Me

by Stella Rainbow

  Steeling myself, I grabbed the wrap off the hook, rubbing the soft material between my fingertips. I took a deep breath and slipped my arms through the sleeves, adjusting the wrap as it hung down to the top of my thighs. I was wearing a white t-shirt and black jeans and I had no idea if the combination looked good or absolutely ridiculous. I really hoped it didn’t look too bad though, because my first impression on Brady didn’t amount to shit and I was really hoping this evening would go much better.

  I slipped on my boots and grabbed my keys, stepping out in a hurry so I wouldn’t be tempted to leave the wrap behind. Locking the door behind me, I walked over to the elevators and pressed the button for the lobby.

  I froze when the elevator stopped at another floor and a few people got inside. I’d never worn anything remotely different than men’s clothing out in the real world before and I was regretting doing it now. I contemplated making an escape and taking the stairs back to my place to change but the elevator was moving again before I could make up my mind.

  My heart thundered in my chest so loudly all through the ride that I barely heard the ping as the elevator doors opened in the lobby. I quickly hurried outside, crossing my arms over my chest as I walked down the sidewalk, my heart still beating unevenly in my chest. The café was only a few blocks away from my apartment building, which was a blessing because I didn’t think I could’ve made it otherwise.

  I came to a stop in front of the café and wondered what I should do next. Do I go into the café and look for Brady or do I wait out here for him? Neither of the scenarios appealed to me, which was why I breathed a huge sigh of relief when Brady walked out of the café and headed straight towards me.

  “Hey, Charles. You’re right on time. Come on,” He said it all in one go and then started walking again without waiting for me to reply. I followed him as he walked around the café to the back and started climbing a staircase to the second floor. He unlocked the door and stepped inside, flipping on the lights and I followed after him.

  “Close the door behind you, please.”

  I did as he asked and turned around just as something slammed against my ankle. I squeaked in surprise and almost fell over as I steadied myself with a hand on the door. Looking down, my eyes widened in surprise when I spotted the small, white ball of fluff that was rubbing itself all over my ankles.

  “Cherry, calm down girl!” Brady called and the dog—Cherry—looked up at me with dark eyes and a dark button nose that was almost hidden behind the long white fur. I grinned at how adorable she looked and knelt down so I could pet her.

  “Oh my god, she’s adorable. What breed is she?” I asked, turning to look at Brady as he grabbed something from the refrigerator in the open plan kitchen on the other side of the room.

  He glanced up at me with a bright smile, his green eyes seeming lighter in the bright living room as he walked over to us with two beers. “She’s a Maltese dog. I wouldn’t have been able to afford her, but someone gave her to me as a thank you present a few years ago.”

  I looked back at Cherry, chuckling when I saw a pink ribbon tying up some of her hair at the back of her head. She looked almost regal except for the lolling tongue and I’d never seen anything cuter.

  “Why don’t you get comfortable on the couch and I’ll order dinner. Pizza okay with you?”

  I gave him a nod. I loved cooking, so I’d spent the whole week eating home-cooked food. Pizza sounded like a perfect break from meals that took hours of planning and cooking.

  “Pepperoni and Mushrooms?”

  “Sounds good.” I got up off the floor and walked over to the couch, Brady following me as he placed the order on his phone.

  “Alright. Beer’s here, pizza will be here in fifteen. I know we’re practically strangers, so I thought I’d tell you a bit more about myself before I ask you to share anything with me. How does that sound?”

  I took a sip of my beer before answering his question. “Sounds good.” I was trying really hard not to freak out at the idea of spilling my life story to a practical stranger, but he was right. Knowing more about Brady would definitely make it easier to share my own story.

  “Perfect. So, you already know my name. I own the café downstairs and I also work as a volunteer at a local LGBTQ non-profit called Voice Out. I’ve worked there for a few years now and I love what I do. From what you told me at the café, I got the feeling that you’re either questioning or exploring your gender. I’d be happy to help you in whatever way I can. Voice Out also hosts monthly support groups for everyone in the community, and if I remember the schedule correctly, the third Sunday of the month is when the Non-Binary people meet up, if you’re interested.”

  I rubbed my jaw as I contemplated everything he’d said. I didn’t usually believe in things like fate or destiny, but it was hard to believe that I’d coincidentally crossed paths with this person who seemed like exactly what I’d been looking for. I gulped down more of the beer, letting its cool essence wash over me as I tried to figure out what to say.

  “For the longest time, I didn’t know what was different about me. I just knew there was something. I lived with my dad and my younger brother. Though I love-loved my dad, he was very strict and conservative. I knew I liked men when I was fifteen, but I never told him. I knew he wouldn’t accept it and he was the only parent I had. But there was still a part of me that I didn’t understand. There were days when I wished I wasn’t who I was, when I couldn’t even look at myself without feeling uncomfortable and I had no idea why that was. I discovered what non-binary meant when I was twenty-two and even though I knew that it was me, that I was non-binary, I denied it to myself for years because I was scared. I’d watched my dad swear and curse out my trans cousin enough times to know that he’d hate me for who I was. I don’t want to be scared anymore. I did a lot of research and I realized I was genderfluid. I moved here for a fresh start and so I could start finding myself, my true self. But I’m not sure how to do that,” I ended with a shrug. It was only now that I realized I’d been rubbing the soft cloth of my wrap between my fingers as I talked and I dropped it before looking at Brady.

  “I think you’re on the right track, Charles,” He said, and his eyes narrowed slightly before he continued, “I can only imagine how hard it must’ve been to keep a part of yourself buried for so long, but I’m glad you’re not doing it anymore. And if you want me to, I’d love to help you on this quest and I’d definitely like to be your friend and guide in this city if you want.”

  “That sounds wonderful,” I admitted. I hadn’t been lying when I said I didn’t know how to go forward from here. Yes, I knew I was fluid. But now what? I’d spent so long ignoring my own wishes that I had no idea what I wanted anymore. Would Brady really be able to help me with this?

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Have you thought about changing your name?”

  “My name?” I asked, the confusion clear in my voice. What did my name have to do with anything?

  “Charles is a very…masculine name. I’ve seen you flinch every time I’ve called you that. Many non-binary people prefer to change their name into something they relate to better, usually unisexual names or just using initials and so on,” Brady explained. I flinched when he said my name? How had I not noticed that?

  “So…changing my name would make me feel better?”

  “It would if you found a name that speaks to you or one you’re comfortable with,” Brady said and I realized he was right. I’d always disliked my name when I was younger, but just like every other thing I hadn’t liked about myself, I’d buried it deep inside myself.

  As I thought about it, a name from my past drifted onto the forefront of my memory. It was something my brother used to call me before dad had ordered him to use my given name. I’d loved the nickname he’d had for me, and now it seemed like the perfect choice. It was a name I’d always connected with joy and contentment and going back to it seemed like the right thing to
do.

  I looked up at Brady and grinned, my heart racing in my chest as I took this new step towards finally, finally finding my way back to myself, “Let’s re-do the introductions. Hey Brady, my name’s Charlie and it’s so very nice to meet you.” The name felt good on my tongue. It felt right.

  “Hey, Charlie. I’m Brady and I’m going to accompany you on a kick-ass ride of self-discovery,” Brady said, shaking my hand firmly as he gave me a wide, delighted grin. Even though we’d just met, I felt a strange kinship to this man. He got me in a way no one had before and I was so grateful I’d walked into his café that day.

  I smiled widely, my heart warming at my new name. Nothing had ever felt so right in my life before.

  3 | Brady

  “Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Luke demanded, staring at me with wide, stormy gray eyes.

  I opened my mouth so I could tell him everything, but he continued speaking before I could get a word in edgewise, “You’re telling me that instead of calling the cops on him, you invited the stalker to have dinner with you in your home? Are you crazy?”

  I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing at how adorable Luke looked with his angry face. He was glaring at me, his gray eyes flashing and his cheeks were flushed, yet somehow he managed to look adorable. I glanced at Scott, Luke’s boyfriend, who was seated beside him on the bench seat and saw he was trying not to smile, too.

  “Are you done?” I asked Luke, the grin finally appearing on my face. “Listen, I know how stupid that sounds, but you didn’t even hear the rest of it. Are you ready to listen now?”

  Luke huffed but gave me a short nod. Taking it for the agreement it was, I told him everything Charlie had told me yesterday, both here in the café and at dinner later. I watched as the indignation and anger slowly disappeared from Luke’s face and a soft look replaced it. Luke was an empath, through and through and I knew he’d understand why I’d done what I’d done.

  “So how exactly are you going to help him?” Luke asked, making me smile. This was exactly why I adored him so much. The moment he realized Charlie wasn’t going to harm me in any way, he was ready to help, no questions asked.

  “I told him about the support group, though I’m not sure yet if he’ll go. I also gave him the idea about changing his name and he seemed to appreciate it. Talking to him, observing him, I realized that he has spent a lot of years burying his wishes and now he isn’t sure how to go about expressing himself. So, I’m going to try to introduce him to various things, from fashion to self-care and anything I can think of, so that he can discover whatever feels right to him.”

  Luke smiled at me before leaning against Scott, “That sounds good. Let us know if you need any help, okay? And we’d love to meet Charlie either way, so let us know if you’d like to hang out sometime.”

  “Will do, hon. Now, I gotta get back to work. As for hanging out, I think Charlie will need a little more time before that, but I’ll let you know, okay?”

  I started to get up when Scott called out my name, stopping me. I turned to him expectantly and he glanced at Luke before looking at me with a smile, “I just wanted to say…this journey will probably be very difficult for Charlie on many levels. He’ll need a lot of support from you and he’ll have hard days. Don’t give up on him, okay?” Something in the way he spoke made me think he was speaking from experience and the look Luke was giving him confirmed it. I smiled at the both of them, thanking the powers that are for setting them in each other’s paths. They were so perfect for each other and I’d loved watching Luke blossom into the confident person he’d slowly become with Scott’s love and support in the past few months. If I could do for Charlie even a fraction of what Scott had done for Luke, it’d be enough.

  “I won’t,” I promised him before getting to my feet. “Oh, by the way, Mama D is planning a pride party for next month. It’s going to be awesome!”

  Luke’s eyes lit up and he sat up straight in his seat. “She’s doing one at Voice Out?”

  I nodded and Luke grinned widely before tuning to look at Scott, who was watching us with a puzzled smile. “Mama D’s a Pro at hosting parties and celebrations. It’ll be awesome.”

  Scott smiled down at Luke and I realized it was time for me to slip away. Grinning, I made my way to the kitchen, my thoughts shifting back to Charlie. We hadn’t planned to meet up again yet, but we had swapped phone numbers last night. Making a note to text him later, I washed my hands and straightened up.

  As I took my place on the counter beside Honey, I remembered Charlie’s appreciation of the pastry the other day. “Hey, Honey. One of the customers told me to pass on the message that they loved your chocolate pastry yesterday.”

  The grin on Honey’s face had me smiling and I gave him a mock salute before getting back to work. Honey smiled the whole time he worked. This was exactly why I made a point of telling everyone who worked here how much their hard-work was appreciated. These people deserved the praise and I’d bet anything the pastries Honey made today would be even better, because they would be full of his love.

  “Oh my god, Cherry. I’m so tired,” I grumbled as I fell into bed, Cherry jumping up beside me like the loyal companion she was. She snuffled against my cheek before licking it once and falling flat on her back so I’d rub her belly. Chuckling at the look she gave me, I rubbed her tiny tummy as she wiggled happily. Today had been way too exhausting for my tastes. If it weren’t for Kasey, I didn’t know how I would’ve handled everything. The woman was a godsend and I made a note to give her a bonus with this month’s pay.

  I closed my eyes, a yawn escaping my lips as I wondered if I had enough energy to even order something to eat or would it just be easier to go to bed now and think about food tomorrow. Deciding to just eat a big breakfast tomorrow, I turned off the reading lamp and snuggled deeper into my blanket, pressing my face against Cherry’s silky soft fur.

  Just as I started to drift off, my phone pinged, pulling me out of the sleepy haze. Frowning, I grabbed my phone from where it was charging on the bedside table, growling under my breath at the interruption. I quickly clicked open the notification when I saw it was a text from Charlie, an unintentional smile spreading across my face despite my exhaustion.

  Stalker Charlie: Hey, would you like to drop by my house for dinner one of these days?

  I grinned at the text. A part of me had wondered if Charlie really wanted my help or if he’d just gotten caught up in my plans without actually wanting to. I knew only too well that there were times I got too involved in things that had nothing to do with me. It was nice to know that he actually wanted to hang out with me and I hadn’t just forced myself onto him. I quickly typed out a reply, thinking forward to when I’d be free.

  Me: How does Saturday evening sound to you?

  Stalker Charlie: Sounds great. What kind of food do you like?

  Me: There’s this sushi place close by that I really love.

  Stalker Charlie: I was actually planning on cooking the food myself.

  Me: Home-cooked meal? Really? I’ll eat anything then.

  Stalker Charlie: Okay, then. See you Saturday. 6 o’clock okay for you?

  Me: Sounds perfect, Charlie. I’ll look forward to it.

  Stalker Charlie: Night, Brady. Give Cherry some love from me.

  Me: Night, Charlie. Cherry says thank you!

  I put my phone away with a smile, loving the thought that Charlie remembered my dog’s name way too much. But then again, she was pretty memorable, wasn’t she? I closed my eyes and cuddled closer to her, sighing with satisfaction and looking forward to the weekend.

  I spent Saturday morning running errands for Voice Out, since the self-defense class had been canceled for the next two weeks in lieu of the pride celebration. People were too excited about the party to want to spend time on the mat and I could definitely relate to that. On weekends, the café was completely in the hands of Kasey while I did anything that needed doing for the non-profit. Sundays were spent meeti
ng kids from Voice Out and hosting support groups and carrying out tasks like stocking up the kitchens, rec rooms and whatever else Mama D needed me to do. Considering Pride month was just around the corner, I knew next weekend would be spent buying glitter and flags and all things colorful to celebrate the month ahead, but for now I was stuck buying arts and crafts materials for one of the workshops.

  Voice Out wasn’t just a place queer kids came to when they were kicked out of their families or when they found themselves with nowhere else to go. Though Voice Out’s main focus was re-homing kids and helping them stand on their own two feet, it was also a safe space for any queer person—no matter their age—to hang out with other queer people and befriend them. There were workshops, night classes, hobby spaces—including a small garden that Mama D loved—and just about anything you could want.

  Once I was done buying everything, I took a cab back to the Voice Out building. The three storey building didn’t look like much on the outside, but once you stepped in through the entryway, it was like you’d stepped into a completely different world. There were rainbow flags everywhere and streamers hanging from the cream colored walls, both old and new. Couches and armchairs were strewn about the room, with coffee tables laden with books and pamphlets between them.

  Hefting the bags I was carrying into my arms, I made my way to the hobby room, smiling and greeting the people that milled around. The one thing this building never was, was empty. There was always someone around, be it day or night. I looked around the bright space of the hobby room, waving at Layla, one of the women who taught the art classes here.

  “Hey, just popping in to stock up the supplies.”

  “Thanks, Brady. The kids made a bunch of things the other week. Feel free to pick anything you like.”

  Giving her a nod, I walked over to the baskets that held the supplies and started emptying things into their respective baskets. The kids—who weren’t actually kids and usually over eighteen years old—used crafts as a way to express themselves, making everything from jewelry to pen stands to whatever struck their fancy. Most of the time, the kids kept whatever they made for themselves, but sometimes they left the things they’d made for someone else to take. I loved picking things out from here and using them to brighten up my home a little. Plus, they were sweet reminders of all the good that happened within these walls and the small part I played in it.