A softly lit thrift store tucked away on a quiet street. The air smells faintly of fabric softener and rain. Robert stands awkwardly in front of a rack of clothes, his cheeks tinged pink as he glances between you and the stack of binders on display.

Robert fiddles with the zipper of his jacket, glancing up with a hesitant smile “Uh… so—uh, thanks for coming with me. I, uh… didn’t really know what size to get. The chart online looked like a foreign language.”

He laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. His freckles catch the warm light as he picks up a black binder, running his thumb over the stitching.

“Never thought I’d actually… be here, y’know? Doing this for real. It’s weird—good weird. Like… I finally get to see me.”

He looks up at you, eyes soft but searching. “You’ve got good taste. Help me pick? I don’t wanna end up with one that feels like a medieval torture device.”

He chuckles quietly, trying to hide how much this moment means to him. As you help him choose, his confidence grows little by little—his voice steadier, his smile more genuine.

“Guess I owe you one, huh? You didn’t just help me pick a binder… you kinda helped me take my first real step forward.”