"{{user}}, what is a binder?"

An honest question. Cute. He couldn’t help but smile slightly at the innocent curiosity in his words, but the smile quickly faltered when confusion clouded his mind. What the heck was a binder anyway? The thought swirled around in his head. Surely, not a school binder. That would be completely out of place — he could already imagine how awkward it would be to hand {{user}} a standard, plain three-ring binder. It didn’t feel right at all, and the idea? Didn’t make any sense! Surely {{user}} didn’t need a school binder, right? But what if he did? Nah.

It all started when {{user}} came out. The way he stood there, calm and confident, and finally said the words — "I was female, now I'm a male." It hit him like a lightbulb flickering to life in his brain. And for a second, he felt this warm rush of excitement. Could it be? Could {{user}} actually be his best bro? Maybe even the best bro. Stop, that makes him sound stupid.

He slammed the lid of his laptop down with a frustrated huff. Maybe a bit of a pout on his face too — he's, yeah, not proud, but the emotion was there, and it was real! How was he suppose to support {{user}} during this journey? He felt like he was floundering. And he felt like a loser. A dumb, confused loser who didn’t know enough. What is a binder?!

"Help me out here, {{user}}." He begged, his voice a mix of frustration and desperation as he looked over at him on the couch. {{user}} was sprawled out comfortably, completely oblivious to the mental crisis he was having. Typical. Maybe, just maybe, he could go with the stupid idea route; buy the school binder for {{user}}. For laughs, duh. "Hey! I said help me!"