Bianca: Dossier

My worries that I had gotten myself mixed up in something far too complicated weren't lifted when I was awakened by the sound of a knock on my door. Expecting James or maybe Jane, I answered it dressed iny the clothes I wore to bed, a crop top and underwear - since the transformation, the Inn has taken on a dormlike anything-goes atmosphere, there seemed like no need to be bashful.

I didn't recognize the man who answered, apparently in his late 20's or early 30's, even after speaking to everyone who had been transformed. With nothing to cover myself within arms reach, I moved my hands to cover my lower half. "Do I know you?" I said in a breathless squawk.

"No," he said, maintaining eye contact, "And it's probably better you don't. I'm just here to make a delivery."

He carried a manila envelope. He handed it to me and I felt it thick with papers. On it was a plain printed label, "DiStefano, Bianca."

"Bianca sent you?" I asked.

He shook his head. "My boss. Our bosses did."

"What happened to her?"

"Dunno. It's not important."

He produced a pad of paper from his back pocket. "You can sign here to confirm receipt... there's a sample of Bianca's signature inside, if you want to compare."

I opened the envelope and flipped through it. Unsure of myself, I did a very poor imitation of the swooping, messy "B.DiStef" autograph.

"Was she one of us, did she know this was going to happen?"

"They don't tell me these things," the delivery guy said, growing a bit aggravated with me, I could tell.

"You have to know something. What do they want me to do? They went to all this trouble, they have to have something for me."

He squared his stance and looked me in the eye. He gestured to the package. "It's all in there," he said. "But if you want it put simply? Just be Bianca. Park yourself in her life, keep out of trouble, and when the time comes, they'll ask for something and you'd better be ready to give it. Okay?"

My heart nearly stopped in my chest as I said, "Okay."

He excused himself, then poked his head back through the door and said, "Welcome to the Agency, Bianca. I doubt we'll be seeing each other again." Then he closed it behind him and I heard his footsteps echo down the hallway.

I went through the paperwork. It was as comprehensive as you could want... banking info, address, social, e-mail and other passwords, family and personal history, job description... personality profile. There was a memory stick with electronic versions of all this date and more. It was all written from a very distant, objective point of view, which chillingly gave the impression that all this was observed or investigated about her, not given voluntarily. I scanned the sheets for the word "fiance."

A moment later, Jane came to my door. She was dressed in a grey tank and a pair of plaid boxers. I tried to delicately guide my eyes away from the distinct bulge, though.

"Did I just hear someone in here?" she asked.

"Yeah," I said, "Someone Bianca knew... I think."

"That's weird," she said, leaning on the doorway, "Was he one of us?"

"Kind of, I think," I said. There was a pause where it must have looked like I had something I needed to say, because Jane leaned forward, as if to say out with it.

I thought about confessing that I was a veteran to this Inn, that I knew what was going to happen, that I specifically put myself in a situation to become this woman because I thought it might... I don't know, help me in some way. I thought about telling Jane about the blog, but... I chickened out. Which is stupid, because it's not like I wronged Jane in any way, we're still friends, I've helped her, I just... don't want to admit what I really am, I guess.

I should. It's indefensible that I haven't already, but I just don't know how to say it without seeming like a liar and a bad person. Maybe once we get to Chicago, and things are more stable, the time will feel right. I don't know.

We spent the day trying to somehow enjoy our last moments in Maine, and it was quite honestly the best day I've had since. Putting the ordeal we're about to plunge into out of my mind, and with the pressure of anticipation long gone, I feel like this is the one moment I was able to relax and get my guard down. It didn't hurt that James is back to being a total goofball, and Jane seems to be taking a cue from the two of us to take it in stride, although she's had a moment or two of "This can't really be happening, can it?"

We made arrangements for a flight tomorrow. I went home and got studying up on my part. As bland and unassuming as she seemed from the outset, I thought maybe being Bianca wouldn't be such a terrible thing, at least for now.

Then, buried way on page 3 of the document, under "relationship status," I saw it:

"Bianca currently resides at [address] with her longtime partner Kathleen Mayfield, a professor of English at the University of Illinois at Chicago" followed by some biographical details.

Oh. Um. Interesting. Maybe I would have put that nearer to the top if I was compiling a list of pertinent details about a person's life.

Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Tori: Updates

I was meaning to write more in here, but a couple of things happened: for one, we started seeing an influx of new people for the summer, and I always feel shy about crowding them out with tales of my (now-)regular life. But even before that, the realities of my job had me worn out to the point where I didn't have a ton of energy for blogging about it.

I was going to say that this was the first job I've ever had where I had to put so much work into my appearance, but that isn't entirely true. I worked for quite a while in fashion retail, so obviously I had to really put a focus on my appearance, if I was going to have any women (at that time I often still thought of them as "real women") trust my advice on what to wear. When I was just the IT gal, I dressed in plain pants and a white blouse with minimal makeup my hair functionally tied back: not gorgeous, not homely, a good cross between the white-collar office environment and my hands-on troubleshooting agent role within it. But now, being a woman as part of an office environment, especially in management, is a minefield in itself. Just as much as when I was walking a sales floor, I find myself checking my reflection, putting stray hairs into place, touching up make-up, straightening my clothes. It's the double-edged sword of women's fashion: if you're so inclined, there are a hundred ways you can express yourself with your appearance (as opposed to the more uniform men's wear) but it requires that much upkeep. And people judging.

I'm trying to get a bunch of men working beneath me (huh huh) to respect me as a boss. Considering I've never really bossed anyone around before, I was hoping they'd just do whatever I said without question. It didn't occur to me I'd have to give them a reason to follow instructions. I find myself talking to them like kindergarteners, like "If you don't do X, then Y can't happen. That's your responsibility." I shouldn't have to. But that's what managing is, I guess. I'm really aware that if I lose my temper, they'll think I'm just being emotional or "a bitch." But guess what, this bitch is in charge. If I have to turn into a ball-buster, maybe I will.

The really annoying thing is that even when you're in charge - even when their continued employment is contingent on me thinking they did a good job (I may be overstating this, but in the long run it kind of is,) it's still all about sex. It's still all about whether I'm fuckable, like this whole get-up and attitude is for them, to win their approval. I don't care what they think about me on that score, especially since on their best day I wouldn't give a second look to a one of them (mostly married guys approaching 40.) Still, they think it's all right to comment on how I stomp around like a dude sometimes (just because my natural footstep isn't a discreet ladylike pitter-patter,) and how I roll my eyes at their leers and elevator eyes. Maybe I should tease them about it more, ask "Hey how's the wife?" when I see their gaze drift a few inches below my chin.

It's kind of why I don't have any (unmarried) guy friends anymore. Since I've been Tori, every straight guy I've met has either been dating a friend of mine, or a boyfriend, or wanted to be a boyfriend. I miss the camaraderie of just being a dude hanging out with the guys, but I guess I'm just being nostalgic. Besides, it's been replaced with ladies' nights. And ladies' nights are way preferable.

Besides Raine, who is long-term coupling again, I've got a few girlfriends: two of the other women in my office, Peggy a 40-something divorcee who likes to cut loose with the younger girls, Jenny, a married lady a few years older than me, and two other single girls in their social circle that kind of welcomed me in, Tiffany and Aileen. I'm the youngest, although I wouldn't be when you consider my years of experience as Cliff. We go out, we dance, we get hit on, it's... fun, usually. Or we stay in and watch movies and the girls comment on my complete inability to cry (yes, I've been a woman this long and I still don't love Nicholas Sparks movies.)

After all that, it's not hard to see why it feels like something's missing. I almost feel like I've gotten too okay being on my own. I miss the comfort of a relationship, but after my last big one shattered my trust (literally any guy who walks up to me could be an "Agency" person!) In terms of dating, I've kind of gone back to my old introvert ways. It sucks.

Tori can't win.

Tori: Fingers Crossed

I walked into my old employer very apprehensive. I had originally gotten hired with them through Alex, and we know he turned out not to be on the level. Whatever his objectives were, or the peopel he works for, he was trying to convince me to go along with him... in the time since, I sometimes wonder if my firing had something to do with that, maybe to help coerce me. Heaven knows I didn't stick it out in this body just to hawk cell phones at the mall. Maybe I'm seeing connections where there are none but I think anything is fair game.

I'm am SURE, however, that this conspiracy, if you can call it that, has to do with getting called up out of the blue and being offered Alex's job. Supposedly, he was moving on, and recommended me - not somebody who was still with the company - as his replacement. I was very unnerved that they would want me back, if they had anything to do with these mystery people, and particularly bothered that this new Alex would think of me at all.

So I went in to the manager's office, Alvin, and I sat across from him just kind of staring intently, trying to figure him out. I asked about the job, and it seemed to be exactly what he was describing, for in-hour IT services for the entire company. Okay, great, as long as my skills aren't too rusty. "Why had Alex recommended me?" Alex had made the argument that I was as qualified as him (true) and was familiar with the company structure (not as true, I was fired just after a merger, but hey.) Alvin basically reassured me that the job was mine if I wanted it.

I hesitated. I wanted to wring him for answers but if he had any he wasn't coming out with them. I told him that if there was anything else going on, he could tell me, I was in the know. He looked at me like I was a lunatic. He asked if I wanted the job, and I said I'd have to consider it.

That night, I went over to Alex's place, hoping I wasn't breaking their rules or putting myself in danger. I also hoped he hadn't moved: luckily, he hadn't. When I pushed the buzzer, and I heard his voice ask "Hello?" my heart lept out of my chest, and I squeaked the most awkward response: "Hi, um, my name is Tori, and..." he interrupted, "I know. I know. Come on up." He was expecting me. Gulp.

I nearly hyperventilated on my way up on the elevator. I hadn't seen Alex, that face, that man I had spent a year with, since he, well, stopped being himself (or George, rather.) And I knew that whatever this gentleman was going to say, whether I could trust him or not, was going to deal with some vry uncomfortable truths about my life, that I just don't want to deal with. But before I take this job, which I really wanted to do, I needed to know what was really going on.

As soon as I knocked on the door, he was there to open it, like he was waiting for me. I nearly fainted when I saw his face, I swear I just couldn't deal with seeing this person with all the baggage attached to that appearance, but I collected myself, and he had me take a seat and offered me a drink. I declined. He said, "I was hoping you'd stop by."

"Really?"

"We have a lot to discuss, but I didn't think you'd just come over if I asked you to. I felt sure that you wouldn't take that job without at least seeing me first."

"What do you know about me? About who and what I am?" I asked.

"I know plenty, Tori. I know you used to be John Henry Clifford, an IT technichian from Buffalo, New York. You've been here since the summer of 2009, and when you couldn't get your old body back, you stuck it out, got comfortable, sought happiness... that's admirable. I know you used to date the man who occupied this body, but when he left it, to go live as someone else, you declined to follow him. And here we are."

"Is this for real? The job? Or are you just playing a game with me?"

"You need to learn how to ask questions, no offense," he said, taking a sip of his water, "Because I wouldn't tell you if I was."

"I guess that makes sense, I just find it hard to believe you have my best interests at heart."

"If it helps, I'm really just looking out for my best interests. Yours are incidental."

"How comforting," I rolled my eyes. "So what are your interests?"

"I want out."

"Out?"

"You asked me if I was playing a game. I'm not, but someone is. It's a lot bigger than you or me, but it's... sort of a con. They have a lot of influence over who goes where. There are a lot of favours owed. I got caught up in a while, but I'm ready to get out, and I thought, since I'm leaving anyway, I might as well do you this favour."

"Why do you care about me?"

"This isn't the first time we've met, Tori." He kind of chuckled to himself, "This is embarrassing, but I guess I wasn't going to win you over without mentioning this... I was Danny."

My eyes bulged out. "Danny? My friend Danny?"

"For a while, yeah. Believe me, that was a difficult couple of years to navigate."

"So... when Raine, and Danny... you were... That was you...?"

His face turned red, "I tried. She was willing to try, and for a little while it worked, but... Believe me, I am really sorry to her about that. She was really understanding. That's why I'm doing this, in a way. I care about her, but I can't be in her life like this. The Inn will be open for the summer soon, so I... I've lined up one last chance. Believe me, the Powers That Be are happy to have a life like mine that they can use to leverage people."

"So they just use people? Use their lives as incentives?"

"It's a carrot on a stick. You wind up in a body that is not to your liking - either by accident or because they put you there - they tempt you to work for them by offering a new body, or even your old one back. Holding you hostage. They've been at it for a long time, so they've got connections, money, power... but I guess there are limits. You need to take the bait, and you never did."

"No," I said, thinking about how close I was to going with George. "I never did."

"Tor, you need to know how badly I wanted to talk to you about this. Even going back to when it all started, watching you date him, while I was powerless on the sidelines trying to survive in my own situation, knowing you were going to get your heart broken. I'm sorry you got caught up in this."

"It's... it's all in the past," I said, still stunned. "Thanks for being honest."

"If it helps... don't trust anybody. Even me." He's right, but I don't know if I'm strong enough to go thorugh life looking at everything skeptically. I wish I could take him and everything else at face value.

I stayed a bit longer, rehashing old times, catching up on what was what... the whole meeting was really long and really therapeutic, and if I've muddled up the exact wording of the conversation here, I apologize to Alex.

I left feeling a lot better about life, in a way... if "taking the bait" with George was my only risk at being sucked into this, then taking the job was a smart decision and I might be safe now. Maybe somewhere down the line they'd try to get me again, but according to Alex, they may have moved on. I told him that I would do everything I could to help him with Raine, if he wanted it, when she comes back and he comes is in his new body.

I asked Alex if it was safe to blog about this, if openly discussing his identity, and mine, made us targets. He said it was fine, that the "Agency" people didn't really pay much attention... anything I was going to share on here that they needed to know, they would be able to find out anyway.

Not terrifying at all, sure.

It's a relief, after nearly 4 years, to feel like I know even more about the world I live in. The things people could do with that Inn... scary stuff.

But I've worked my last shift at the phone place, starting at the IT job tomorrow... this feels like a new chapter. At 26, I am back on track to living my life. Fingers crossed.