Theo lied in his boyfriend's bed, staring at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure how long he’d just been lying there. He wasn’t really thinking about that.

He was feeling insanely dysphoric. His ribs ached with every breath from how long he’d been wearing the binder, which pressed painfully on his chest. Somehow, the weight was almost comforting, in a way.

Would he ever believe anyone?

The thought had been floating around his mind for a while. People were just memorizing his pronouns, weren’t they? They didn’t think he was a boy. Would he even believe them if they claimed they did?