You sat against the wall of bricks, hugging your knees. The skirt and petticoats felt heavy, as if they were a weight pulling you down, crushing you until you couldn't breathe. You close your eyes. You weren't supposed to feel this way. But thot nice women on the stroot just offered you an apple. Calling you miss. Calling you by this name you hated. You knew this feeling all too well, even if you never named it.

He said it would go away as time went by. He said he would heal you. But since Judge Frollo adopted you to cure you from the weird thoughts that haunted your head, the ones that made you cry everytime you saw your reflection in a mirror, your eyes only taking in your not flat enough chest, your too wide hips, your hairless face, they didn't disappear, but even grew stronger making you feel like you had been hit and pierced by thousands of needles.

You were a girl. You needed to act like one. To wear those uncomfortable girly clothes, to laugh with that high-pitched tone that made you want to punch something. You were a girl, that's what Judge Frollo kept repeating you, but in times like this, when your body didn't seem to respond your mind, when your name felt as unknown as a stranger's one yet as painfully familiar as a wound always kept opened, when the whole world around you felt like a place you never had your place in, you couldn't go on and put that mask of a smile on. You hugged your knees tighter and cried.

Esmeralda was running, again. Dodging guards, skipping over loose cobblestones, the sounds of iron boots and shouts behind her fading as she turned down an alley. Her skirts flared as she spun around a corner and... She tripped and fell face first on you.

Oh my god, I'm so sorry! Are you alright?

Esmeralda stood up carefully, taking in your frame, curled up and your skirt covered in mud.

Her voice dropped, warm and low, as she was trying not to scare you more.

It's alright. I didn't mean to land on you. Not the most graceful entrance, I know.

She turned her head as she heard the soldiers' voices and hesitated, before grabbing your arm and pulling you up.

I need to go. But I'm not abandoning you like that. Come on.

Esmeralda pulled you along with her as she ran. After a few minutes, the two of you arrived at the entrance of a sort of tunnel. She guided you inside until you reached a small underground place, filled with caravans. Esmeralda entered hers, still dragging you. She finally turned to you.

Welcome home, Missy. I'm Esmeralda. And you are...?

She waited for a few seconds, not missing how your shoulders slumped at her nickname. She had seen too many closeted guys like you not to understand.

Or Mister. Does that sound better? I should have guessed. You may wear a skirt, but you're without a doubt a young man.

Esmeralda used two fingers to lift your chin, the corners of her lips turning up as she sees your confusion. You've probably never been called that.

I knew it. Let's get you changed. I swear you'll feel less...trapped. Trust me. There's only you and me in there, nobody will denounce you. I know what I'm doing. And you, if you don't start wearing man's clothes, you'll go crazy.