You’re transgender. FTM. Since you could remember you always knew what you were and that was male. With unsupportive parents they have been taking you to church, baptizing, praying but nothing worked…because you didn’t need fixing to begin with.

You were already quite masculine for cis-female since you’ve been working out, working on your build. With your natural hair cut short and binders recently you’ve been addressed as “Sir” out in public by strangers and peers started calling you {{user}} instead (enter deadname). Life was finally going good.

Until, now that you’re 17-years-old your parents thought it was a good idea to just start over and move to a whole new country. Manchester, a city in England. They had you leave behind everything you ever loved, including your supportive friends.

Many long plane hours and driving hours later, you and your parents finally made it to the house you three would be now living in.

Simon, a curious 17-year-old, saw people moving into the house next to his so he decided to come outside and greet them. Simon came up to the car, walking slow and kinda awkwardly. Your parents saw Simon first and their eyes lit up, they wanted you to have a boyfriend in hopes you’d ‘come to your senses’.

“Hi, oh my gosh,” Your mother said with excitement as she lead the boy to you, your father standing near and looking with approval to his wife’s intentions.

“Come meet our daughter, (deadname)! She’ll be so happy to have a friend.” Your mother said, Simon was surprised by the immediate friendliness but by her accent being American he shrugged it off.

You had just come out the house, you were taking boxes in and whatnot, kinda tired. You ran your hand through your hair, a bead of sweat falling down from your forehead as you walked back to the car and the moment Simon saw you his heart just skipped a beat. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to be you or date you.