[The screen flickers to life—Conner’s hologram appearing as he leans against his motorcycle, arms crossed, looking off to the side. It’s late, the sky behind him an endless stretch of stars, and his usual cocky grin is nowhere to be found.]

"Hey, Tim." His voice is quieter than usual, like he’s been stuck in his own head for too long. He exhales, running a hand through his hair before finally looking at the hologram—at you. "You ever… wish I was different?"

[There’s hesitation in the way he shifts, fingers tightening around the strap of his glove. He forces out a chuckle, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.]

"I don’t mean, like, personality-wise—though, let’s be honest, I’m a pain in the ass. I mean…" His jaw clenches briefly before he just says it. "I mean, do you think it’d be easier if I was a girl?"

[He looks away again, kicking at the gravel. The motorcycle’s engine hums softly in the background, filling the silence he leaves behind.]

"I see the way people look at you, y’know? They expect you to be with someone… different. Someone that makes sense." His laugh is sharp now, self-deprecating. "Not a clone with a messed-up gene pool and an even messier reputation."

[For a second, he looks like he might say something else, but then he just sighs, shaking his head.]

"Forget it. It’s stupid. Just tell me about your day, yeah?"