Pete/April: My New Role

I have to admit, it was strange changing from being Brigette to April. From being a tall, lean, beauteous African-American goddess to being a petite, even mousy-looking office girl was very trippy. But I've come to like it. As much as I happen to think April is a pretty girl, she doesn't turn heads the way that Brigette did. I foudn her wardrobe is distinctly not geared toward dropping jaws or showing anything off - more for comfort and cuteness. She does have an LBD or two in the wardrobe but her body isn't exactly glamorous.

It's been an adjustment. I feel like I can't just walk into a place with the same attention-grabbing energy that I had as Brigette. In fact, on my first day at Homeward, I tried using the same attitude toward people that I had as Brigette - which some would call overbearing but I call confident - and by noon people were asking what had gotten into me, and I got the sense that I needed to tone it down, that they were used to a very subdued, quietly intelligent April. No big deal, I can do that.

I mean, I could have said "This is the new me, deal with it" but truth be told, I don't feel it in myself anymore. I look in the mirror and I see this person and I feel compelled to act how I think she would - which is the approach that I think annoyed Daryl when we went out together as Elaine and Brig, but now it's totally different too.

Now I'm Asian instead of Black... I did feel like I was losing something I had become very fond of, although some of my Inn friends have pointed out that it's kind of icky that I relished being non-white the way I did/do. And I'm sorry but I feel like you're either going to mope about it or you're going to embrace it and I chose the latter, and I still do. Two days after I got back to the City, a guy on the street asked me for directions, then when I hesitated, he snapped angrily, "Do you even speak English?" I responded by muttering some Asian-sounding gibberish and walking away. I get the sense that this is something that might happen a few more times before my time as April is over.

So. I'm April, personal assistant to Homeward CEO and Founder Lena Howard, a (small-scale, relatively speaking) would-be lifestyle maven. I let David know right off the bat just how lucky he was to have me, because no matter what you think of how I choose to live my life I have always conducted myself with the utmost competence and dignity in the workplace. I all but secured Brigette a promotion following her return.. I've worked in a lot of different fields. I've seen things, I know things. Yes, I'm capable of arranging someone's calendar.

So we've become sort of a two-headed boss. It's funny to read about Jenn wishing she had become Lena because I was thinking the same thing; it would make things so much easier for me, and would probably take less of a toll on those kids and their relationship. But we have to play the hand we're dealt. So I watch David grope around trying to get the hang of managing a company (I told you it's small time, only about 100 people) and deal with people beneath him and leave the decisions to the department heads. He just has to show up, nod and smile, dress as Jenn directs him to, and follow my lead, and maybe by the end of the year people won't think poor Lena's totally lost touch.

The sad thing about all this is where it leaves my personal life. As I watched Tyler's datebook fill up - even as dramatic as she can be some times (highly entertaining don't you think?) I wished I could join in on the scene, but I had promised Brigette I wouldn't entangle her with any relationships. It seems only fair that I offer April the same courtesy since the whole world thinks she's still with Zack, Whatever happens between Jenn and David, they're pretty well in it together, so that leaves me as the third wheel - as usual - left at home with myself.

(Looks down)

Well, it could be worse ;)

-Pete/Apey

Daryl/Elaine: Time to Find Out

This is almost certainly a bad idea, but it's too late to turn back now, and if I didn't do it, I'd be second-guessing myself for the rest of my life, but, Jesus, it seems like a crazy leap.

It makes a little more sense if you know a bit about what I left out of the last update.  We were "just being friends", but we kind of played at being more.  Not by getting all syrupy in public or anything, but whenever something would strike as kind of ironic or funny considering our situation, we'd break out some exaggerated way of talking, with me playing the boyfriend half the time.  It was a joke, but it was also a way to accept that we were in a weird situation.

So, Tuesday, it's hot as hell in New York, enough that J.T. had actually mentioned that he missed booty shorts and a halter top being a viable outfit for him, and I decided, what the heck, only a few days of this left, and if anyone got a picture, it wouldn't stick to me.  That's kind of the funny thing about being turned into your girlfriend - it's actually not hard to make yourself all sexy in the mirror, even if you do wind up thinking that it's kind of a weird power trip at times, but stepping out the door is maybe twice as hard, because you've got both "do I want guys looking at me like that?" and "do I want guys looking at my woman like that?" going around your head.  But, it was hot, and I didn't want J.T. or Pete to think I'd chickened out.

Pete wasn't pay off the group Tuesday night, so I didn't have him to measure my drinks against (I've gotten into the habit of staying even or one drink behind him,  since he's smaller and thinner than Elaine as Brigette), and it, uh, enhanced the "singer's girlfriend" thing I was doing, so I wound up shooting "that was awesome baby!" (or, later, "woooooooooo!") rather than kind of saying it to myself.  J.T. wound up playing along, pointing at me the first time and comically rolling his eyes by the end.

Eventually, the gig ended, and I helped him move his gear to the car.  He hoped that the only thing missing from that was him inviting me up on stage.  I laugh, saying there were photographers and phones and Elaine didn't need to deal with any of that shit.  He nods, but says it's too bad, because he knows I've got the pipes for it.

It's hard to be modest, because I'd certainly complimented him when he had those pipes, and meant it.  But...  "Karaoke with friends is different than a stage in front of strangers.  Besides, those were y'all's songs, not mine."

"But you're a big part of them."

I didn't know what to say.  We'd arrived at his place, and I grabbed the guitar and mic stand while he picked up the amp.  We rode the escalator in silence, up to the tenth floor.  He unlocked it and I walked in, giving it a good look.  "So this is where you live in your real life."

It was nice, bigger than Brigette's, though not huge.  There were a couple awards on a mantel, a full-size keyboard, and a separate dining area, all fairly tidy.  I wondered how much dust had gathered while he was Elaine.

"Yep, this is me, although it's just starting to feel like home again.  And kind of plain."  He reached into the fridge and handed me a beer.

"It's nice.  Not much of my Elaine in it, though.  Or would that be your Elaine?"

"Yeah, I didn't keep any souvenirs.  Maybe I should have.  But until you showed up, I just..."  He trailed off, and then pointed at a blank space on the wall.  "Heck, I used to have a Josephine-Baker-in-Paris print over there, but I was having a hard time looking at it.  Made me remember and wonder what if."

I used the corner of my top to twist the off my bottle and took a swig before walking out onto the balcony.  "I should certainly hope you wondered what if.  I thought we had something special."

He walked up behind me.  "We did.  I told you things that I never told anybody else, and they were true, even if the facts weren't."

I laughed.  "So, basically, your parents pushed you into acting rather than math?"

"Pretty much.  Figured I'd have become a huge adult star by now, just like Wil Wheaton, Macauley Culkin, and Haley Joel Osment."

I snort-laughed.  "Obviously, you should have turned into a girl much earlier.  There's Jodie Foster, Dakota Fanning, Christina Ricci..."

"Don't think they wouldn't have considered it.  Kind of glad to be a man right now, though."

He put his hands on my shoulders, then kissed the base of my neck, and I felt my temperature go up.  "What're you doing?"

"Kissing my girlfriend.  Or maybe kissing my ex-boyfriend.  Do you like it?"

"Mm-hmm.  Of course I like it.  You're cheating, already knowing where it feels good."

"I suppose so."  His hands slid down my sides until they reached my midriff, then moved up underneath my top to cradle my breasts, gently stroking them with his thumb while each nipple rested between two fingers.  I gasped and made a half-step back, enough that I could feel him hardening when the small of my back made contact with his pelvis.  His teeth found the knot keeping my top on and disengaged it just slowly enough to build some anticipation, giving my brain just enough time to start working the buckle on my shorts.

We turned around and went back into the apartment as a unit; he instinctively knew I wasn't quite ready to be looking in a man's face while doing this yet.  Once I had pulled my shorts and panties down and planted my hands on an end table or something, he let go of one breast to work his own belt and zipper, then guided himself in from behind.  I moaned as he found my spot again and again, gently thrusting the tip of his unit over it, sending waves of pleasure through my body.  I felt something let go inside me as I came, and then he seemed to swell a bit more.

"Hang on," he said, pulling out of me and opening his wallet to find a rubber.  I didn't realize that's what he was doing, though, so I turned around, and I see his face go from being a little stained at holding back to being concerned that he'd upset me.  Something lightens in my chest and I say "put it on".  He does, and I guide him to the corner of the sofa.  I sit him down and then lower myself onto him, kissing him and then trying to find the rright rhythm as I moved up and down, thinking how is liked it when the roles were reversed, right down to his face in my rack.

It doesn't take him long to come, and he slumps back, spent.  I roll off of him and adopt a similar posture next to him, looking up at the ceiling.  "Well, fuck."

He looked concerned again.  "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, and that's the problem.  Right up until you, you know, got in there, I figured it would feel wrong, but it didn't and you were so nice, and now I know we've got something good.  But it's not like I can just steal Elaine's life!"  He shook his head in agreement and we had kind of a sad cuddle.

I must have fallen asleep there, because when I woke up I was in his bed and he was making waffles.  I figured we'd burned enough calories that Elaine wouldn't mind.  Despite all we'd done last night, it felt a little strange to kiss him before leaving to go back to Pete's place and get changed.

Pete was there and waiting for gossip.  I told him it had happened and was not what I expected, and he removed me that women always share details.  Fortunately, it was interrupted by a call from my own phone, telling me that he knew I must have gotten nervous by now, but there were more than enough people arriving at the Inn to change back tonight.

"That's good, that there are more than enough."  I took a deep breath.  "So, ______, you've been enjoying my life, right?"

"Yeah, man, and so's my girlfriend, if you know what I mean!  Heck, I'm actually kind of jealous of the job I landed for you."

"Good.  How would you like to do the full year?"

Pete's eyes billed as my voice on the other end of the phone stammered.  "What, dude, I was kidding!  Just because I said it would be weird to go home to a family of strangers... and you'd be stuck as a chick--"

"I know, it's just it turns out I've got something to see through."

"If you say so."  He tried to sound reluctant, but there was some relief in his voice.  He hadn't really been thrilled with the luggage he'd found in his room, even if he had been willing to help someone else get back to normal.

"I do."

"All right, man.  I don't get it, but all right."

We said goodbye and hung up, and Pete exploded.  "Are you crazy?  This is--"  He didn't have words.

I shrugged.  "He may be The One."

He shook his head. "That is one severe case of estrogen poisoning you've got there.  I can't even."  He was even more dumbfounded when I told him the whole plan.

Contrary to what you might expect, J.T. and I went our separate ways after the fireworks; that night was special and not to be repeated as such.  I slept at Pete's, and then got on a train to Old Orchard.

Pete was right about my head kind of overflowing with female hormones, and although I had certainly been asking for the ride, I also knew that there were a lot of people out there whose experience with the Inn does not exactly suggest that everything happens for a reason (or at least, not an obviously positive one).  But I certainly can't deny that it certainly feels like things have come together for me and J.T. in an unlikely-enough way that is hard not to talk about destiny.

So we're putting it in fate's hands.  I go to the Inn and get turned into another man, or a lesbian, or a kid, and it's not meant to be.  But if I stay Elaine, or become another woman, and there's still a spark...  Well, it's tough to argue with that.

So far, no change, and no luggage in my room, obviously.  But I've got a good feeling about this.  It didn't all happen for nothing.

-Daryl/Elaine

Daryl/Elaine: That Went Well?

I didn't really know what I wanted out of this trip to New York when I got on the plane two weeks ago - I just knew I needed to take it, especially since just sitting in Elaine's life, waiting to be myself again, was going to drive me nuts.  It was an impulse, but a good one.

Being impulsive meant that I hadn't actually booked lodging when I made the post about going to New York, but I was lucky - Pete/Brigette has a Google alert on the blog, saw what I was doing, and immediately texted me asking if I needed an open-ended couch to sleep on (apparently, he and J.T. used to text each other white-man/black-woman stuff, so he has Elaine's cell number).  Since I was looking at hostels and thinking I wouldn't really like a lot of what I was seeing as a man, I said yes but warned him I was coming in on the red-eye.  No problem, he says - city that never sleeps.

And true to his word, there's noise on the intercom when the cab drops me off at his apartment and he buzzes me up, and his apartment is filled with good-looking people.  I must look pretty rough, because he immediately raises his voice.  "Hey bitches, this is my girl Elaine from Chicago - she all jet-lagged, so I'm gonna need y'all to scoot!"  There's a general groan, but they scoot, with lots of hugs and air-kisses on the way out.

As soon as the last one does, he plops into a chair, pulls his foot up so that his knee is sticking straight in the air - making his dress ride up and giving me a clear view of his panties - and starts working the little buckles on his fashionable five-inch heels.  "Eighteen hours in these shoes, dude, between the gallery and the club and this little after-party.  No regrets--"  (one drops to the floor and he switches legs)  "--because, honestly, I don't think I've ever actually enjoyed shopping for shoes before."  The other one dropped, and he started grabbing his toes and stretching them.  "I'm just glad those girls who said I gave good foot massages weren't kidding.  Ah, yeah!"

I got pointed to the bathroom so I could brush my teeth, pee, and slip into some pajamas, coming out to find that, though Pete didn't seem to have moved, the sofa bed was folded out and ready for me to slip into.  Which I did.

The next morning, I woke up to see Pete cleaning up from last night in booty shorts and crop top.  

"Hey, did I wake you?"

"No."

"Awesome.  Hope you don't mind, but I've already been trying to track J.T. down.  You'd think it would be easy for someone who used to be sorta kinda famous, but I guess he had stalkers or something when he was really big, and... well, you've seen how he protects his privacy.  I saw a couple things online on gossip sites about where he's had breakfast and stuff, but I kind of didn't want to go full crazy-ex-girlfriend on someone I'd just texted with."

"Hey, I'm not...  Am I?"

"Nah, you're totally sane.  At least so far as it's possible for us to be.  Anyway, let's get to work."

We spent a lot of Saturday looking for how we might get into contact with J.T., but no luck.  It went on like that for a couple of days, although Pete was in and out, going to his job at the gallery and hanging out with a whole bunch of friends.  They always invited me to go along, but I never felt comfortable doing so, because Pete kind of puts a show on as Brigette, changing how he talks and swinging his butt, and while I get it and have done something like it, but it's one thing when you're trying to get the people with the power to let you in, another when you're treating it like a year-long adventure.

We didn't find where he lived, but we did find the next best thing - where his band would be playing their first gig since reuniting, which gave me a little time to visit New York (with Pete insisting on going to the Studio Museum in Harlem with me and pointing out everything he'd learned about African-American art) before last Thursday's show.

That was interesting.  Pete and I got there early enough to stake out a spot where we could see the show but not necessarily be seen, because as much as the idea was to confront J.T., I didn't want to draw attention to myself that Elaine would have to live with.  I initially tried to nurse a beer but wound up getting Manhattans with Pete, figuring that he'd become smaller than me, so I shouldn't get into too much trouble matching him.  It was probably for the best, keeping my brain kind of buzzed while it tried to process that this guy used to be my girlfriend and there was an undercurrent to some of his newer stuff that 95% of the people in the audience would never get.

After the set was done, we started to head toward the stage, but it looked like J.T. still had enough fans from his child-start days to form a crowd, so we headed toward the green room.  Pete struck up a conversation with the security guys to keep us from being chased away, at least for long enough that we were there when the band finished breaking their stuff down and was heading back, and J.T. stopped in his tracks when he saw me.  "Whitney - I didn't expect--"

I shook my head.  "Not Whitney."

"Oh.  Well, come on back, although I'm not sure how much I can really tell you.  How--"

"I wanted to surprise my girlfriend for the long weekend, and her sister thought it would be cool to let me use her hotel room."

J.T.'s bandmates bugged their eyes, but Pete led them to the side of the green room to give them all the gossip.  He took a step toward me, looking me up and down.   "So... Daryl?"

I nodded, and then before I knew it his arms were around me, pulling me in so tight that my head naturally tilted upwards, and he kissed me on the lips.  I'm not sure how long it lasted, but I took a step back, almost stumbling on my heels.  "That... was weird."

"Yeah, sorry, I just...  I thought I'd never see you again, and--"

"I get it, but I really didn't come here from that."

"Then why--?"

"So I can dump your lying ass properly!"  I slapped him and he looked kind of stunned.  I was too - I'd debated it, thinking it was too cliché or that I'd be a man smacking a woman, but there was something about the moment, not so much that he was physically male and I was physically female, but that he figured that was justification for getting so far into my space...  Well, a little physical contact back seemed reasonable.

Or at least, that's how my brain worked it out later.  At the time, I was more like "Every word you said to me was a lie, you were always planning to leave and just let someone else take over, and the fact that I could surprise you means you didn't even give a shit about what you left behind!  I spent weeks missing you when I should have been freaking out about all this!  You don't get to stay in my head like that!"

"I was just--"  He reached out his hands again, decided that was a bad idea.  "You're right.  That was kind of shitty of me, and it sucks that you never would have known if you hadn't..."  He paused.  "I'm sorry."

I kind of hadn't been expecting to hear that.  "Well...  Okay.  I guess--"  I looked over at Pete, not sure whether I was expecting a sister telling me not to believe his lies or some advice from someone who had been through the whole Inn process a few times, but he and J.T.'s bandmates were in their own conversation.  "So, what now?"

"Well, you dumped me.  Or have you?  Is just saying why you're dumping me the same as the actual dumping?"

"What else is there?  I mean, I gotta - I ain't gonna like guys in a couple weeks, am I?"

"No, things get back to normal pretty quick.  But in the meantime..."

"Dude, no.  Believe me, I know I'm hot right now, no-one gets it more than me, and Pete did dress me up sexy, but no way."

He smiled.  "Yeah, I wasn't ready for That after a month either.  Still, we've got a couple weeks before you have to go back to the Inn, so we might as well just try the 'let's just be friends' route."

It felt like a lot to ask, but it kind of sounded better than going back to Chicago and pretending to be Elaine.  Pete was okay with me hanging around, so I said yes.

And it's been fun.  We've been to the Statue of Liberty, Coney Island, the Natural History Museum, and a few shows; he's been cool about me wanting to hit some of the stuff at the New York Asian Film Festival, too.  We have, admittedly, occasionally found ourselves holding hands, and his "been there" jokes about me being late because I couldn't find an earring (one of Elaine's favorites, so I had better not lose it) are something I'll kind of miss, since it's not like I'll have that with my next girlfriend (although I'm terrified I will actually let a "been there" slip sometime a year from now).

Hopefully we'll still be friends once there's no sexual tension between us.  He's got a show tonight, we'll watch the fireworks tomorrow, and then it's off to Maine to become myself again.  There's nothing I want more, but I must admit, I kind of wish he'd been a dick about it, so that putting this behind us would be easy.

-Daryl/Elaine

Tyler/Valerie: Cut to the song

Maybe you've picked up on this... sometimes I can be very stupid. I can be emotional, irrational, go off half-cocked... and I don't necessarily have to be female to do it. I acted that way as a lot a man (as you may know) and if anything female hormones maybe have had a moderating effect on these tendencies. This is contrary to what every man reading this probably thinks, but I'm living proof.

So what was so stupid? I bet you can guess, but I'll tell it anyway.

Last Friday was Ryan's open mic performance at the piano bar. I went to support him, because I've been there all through the preparation for this, and it didn't seem like Alexa was going to be there (what a shock.) I didn't want to let on that I may have been developing a sort of crush on him, so I rounded up the gals, Brigette and Maddie, and even halfheartedly invited Rafe, who said he'd be busy that night. Fair enough, I was just being polite.

Still, we all agreed to "do it up," looks-wise. Pete doesn't need much effort, and Maddie is very cute, but personally I always feel rather dingy and in need of special effort to look good. So we got the styling want out to make my hair do those elegant long spirals, spent a lot of time trying to perfect my makeup, found a special pair of not-overly-comfortable heels, and of course... The Dress.

I had noticed this dress in Val's closet not long after I arrived. It's a nice navy blue dress, a bit more elegant than a cocktail dress, but still very sexy - with a lacy cutout in the breast to show cleavage while still providing some modesty. She doesn't own many garments like it, as I'm guessing stuff like this is hard to find in Val's proportions. I wonder if it was custom-fit or modified. It was a little snug in the belly (sue me, I've munched a few cookies at the shop on my break) but looked hot. Beautiful, even.

When we arrived who is the first person we see but Rafe, cleaned up rather nicely I'm slightly embarrassed to admit.

"I thought you were busy?" I said, kind of annoyed.

"Oh, I moved some stuff around, no big deal," he shrugged.

Only Rafe could find a way to do something nice and be annoying about it.

So after a drink or so, it's Ryan's set. He plays a couple of instrumental piano jazz pieces that the crowd appreciates. Then he says "Thanks, I'm gonna do something a little different now... but I haven't formally rehearsed. I just need some help. Would Valerie Stewart come up here?"

My eyes go wide. My face flushes red. I know exactly what he's thinking. I mouth "No. NO." but he keeps egging me on and the crowd does too... I thought this place would be too classy for that sort of thing.

Last week while I was watching him rehearse, he pointed out that I do a lot of humming along and singing. "Oh," I said, "I guess I didn't notice." Even though it's been pointed out that I do this absent-mindedly a lot when I'm cooking or cleaning or anything.

"I never knew you had such a nice voice," he said. "Is that new?"

"Uh," I squeaked, "You could say that." The reason is, when I was Lauren I had to take those singing lessons and I took a bit of a liking to it, to where it did become a habit.

"You wanna sing something for me?"

"Uh, sure..." I said, doing my best to sound uncertain even as I was feeling a little spellbound by his music.

"I think this is one you'd know..." he said, and he began to tap something out on the keyboard... it took me a few bars to realize he was doing a loungey version of "You Shook Me All Night Long" by AC/DC. I smiled.

"She was a fast machine, she kept her motor clean, she was the best damn woman that I... ever seen..." 

It was good. It was great. Incredible, even. It was as close to the experience of having sex as you can get with your clothes on, as far as I'm concerned. It made me fall a little deeper and realize this is a serious crush, and it's a problem because he's with Alexa and I'm not planning on being Val much longer.

But that was just in the confines of Ryan's room. And now he was twisting my arm into re-enacting that moment in front of a room full of strangers. And fucking Rafe. And I couldn't say no. Part of me honestly didn't want to, but I really, really didn't want to be put in that situation.

But I was on my second glass on wine. What the hell. Pass me the microphone.

It was a little messy - obviously we hadn't rehearsed and it really showed. But the crowd did like it. I just had to step outside my body.

But when I got back in, I realized it was hot. Really hot. Like, ready to drop my clothes on the floor. I was shaking.

I did a bashful little curtsy and went back to my seats, to general high fives and backslapping from Maddie and Pete, and a smug little nod of approval from Rafe.

Ryan closed with "Sunrise," the song I am very, very sure he wrote about Val when they were in high school. And the whole time he was singing, he was looking in my direction. I felt very weird, and very strange about it.

Then after he was done, I heard a very prominent source of applause at the back of the room. Alexa had arrived. What had she seen? What would she think? It was like a splash of cold water.

Once Ryan stepped down, she rushed over to embrace him. Then as they reached the table, she also smiled at me and said "Val, that was so good! Great job." So she had seen it, and either she didn't think anything was wrong with it, or she was just being very, very proper.

I was embarrassed, and drunk, and feeling very ill-at-ease about what had happened. And I needed to deflect any possible evidence that there was anything between Ryan and me, so I started paying more attention to Rafe. And I have to say, he was game... that secret charm he keeps buried inside, he let it out and really reveled in the fact that I was sort of hanging off him. Soon I actually did get caught up in the moment and forgot my problem. Pete, the Ultimate Wingwoman, whiaked Maddy away juat as she may have been getting suspicious.

I don't want to blame it all on the alcohol, because probably the reason I was drinking so much is because I hoped this would be the outcome. I could blame it on the hormones... I have noticed I feel pangs of loneliness very strongly now, and part of me wonders if that's leftover chemicals from Val caving Josh's intimacy and partnership. Or if it's just all me. I don't know.

I invited Rafe to walk me home. He was acting very sheepish like he didn't know what was going on, but he obviously did. The small talk dwindled into some pretty awkward exchanges at it became clear that we had run out of stuff to say, and both somewhat knew where the night was going, but couldn't acknowledge it yet. It waa hard to walk the line of up front but not desperate.

"You were, uh... really great up there, by the way," he said in an uncharacteristic show of sincerity.

"Thanks," I smiled, "I really wasn't expecting it. I also didn't think that crowd would be into that song..."

"Oh come on, who doesn't like AC/DC?"

When we got to my building, I took a deep breath and asked... "So...you want to come up?"

He cocked an eyebrow. "Are you sure? Because look, I don't wanna play any games here. If I go up there, I'm expecting... you know."

I twisted my mouth, and nodded. "Yeah... I know."

"All right, sweet," he said, nearly ruining it for himself right there. Grinning and bearing it, I buzzed us in.

After checking to make sure the coast was clear, I ushered him into my room. We got off to an awkward start... I mean, how could we not? I'm still something of a novice at being "the girl," even after my time with Josh. There was the process of working out how to fit ourselves together with the height difference, undressing in a subtle and sexy way instead of just stripping down businesslike... personally I don't think I'm very seductive but luckily for me, when you look a certain way, you would have to work very hard against yourself to turn a guy off.

As far as details... I'll have to stop myself. I don't want to give all the play by play, but there's a few key notes I've been thinking about since. It was a blur, but I was definitely there for every second of it. I will say it was good - more intense than the delicate style I was used to from Kitty. Better than I honestly intended. And it felt different than in Judith's body, in some very good ways.

I could tell he enjoyed himself. I could tell he was looking forward to seeing and touching my body this way after months of knowing each other. He took great pleasure in fondling and playing with my boobs, which was actually quite stimulating for me as well... it's just a relief they're good for something other than knocking over coffee cups. And for a formerly heterosexual man whose eyes have been awakened to sex from the female perspective, even though I didn't initially see him as any kind of sexy, a lot of what he had going on really did it for me. (And I don't know what it is, but he smelled great.)

He made some moves that I might have objected to if it hadn't been "in the moment," some I found I enjoyed despite myself, some I would probably ask him not to repeat (if this should ever happen again.) It was not very tender, and the first round was very much about him, but I got some pleasure there. The second round was slower, with more time for me.

Afterwards, I lay there feeling very conflicted. I was on an endorphin high but I felt myself crashing down and I wasn't suddenly in love with him or anything. He was still a pest that I could only intermittently get along with, and maybe I deserved better, but I had no time or energy to spend looking for that. It didn't feel good inside knowing how proud he probably was of himself for "conquering" me when it depended entirely on my own loneliness and dejection. I felt used, but I had also used him, so who's to say what's wrong?

"You don't uh... want to spend the night, do you?" I asked awkwardly as we lay there in the 'afterglow.'

He grunted, "Uh... not really."

"Okay, you can, um... go whenever."

He took that as his cue to sit right up and start pulling his pants on. Which was a little bit insulting but it was exactly what I said.

As I saw him out to the living room, I said, "Hey, don't go, uh, blabbing about this yet, okay? I need to think about what happened tonight."

"Sure," he said, a little bitterly. "Whatever you want. Hey, I'm here for you anytime."

"Thanks," I said warily, knowing all too well he would be interested in another round sometime. I gave him a really awkward hug and saw him out.

We haven't talked since, and I don't necessarily mind. I just want to live what left of my life here.

-Tyler

Tyler/Valerie: Guys...

How much time do you spend with someone else's boyfriend before it becomes inappropriate?

It's not my fault. At first Ryan's mini-rehearsals were a group affair - since everyone in the apartment would usually be able to hear him working anyway, he decided to make that the theme of the hang-out. But that got old for the guys after two sessions. Alexa did her best to seem very interested in Ryan's music at first, but when he noticed she had a tendency to pull out her phone while he was practicing, he stopped asking her to sit in. When it was just the two of us in his room, a bit of a red flag went up in my head. "I can go, you know... leave you to it."

"No, no, stay," he insisted, "You always give good feedback. Plus I always love when you hum along."

When he said it, I tried to take it as an innocent compliment but it really didn't seem like something a guy with a girlfriend should be saying. Still, I guess my self-esteem is a little down because getting even that level of approval felt like a real buzz. I just had to keep in mind... I mean, I'm a mature person, I know where the line is.

Alexa may not be my favorite person ever, but I would never do anything to break her trust.

I keep thinking I should just stop hanging out with Ryan. I don't think I'm off base by saying it really seems like he's starting to develop - or really, re-develop - feelings for me/Valerie. The way he looks at me is a little more than friendly. And being around him, even if I'm not consciously egging him on/"tempting" him, seems like I'm just I'm fanning those flames.

But then I think... isn't that his problem, to manage his his own actions? I know I'm just on the right side of innocent and friendly. He is a grown-ass man too, in a relationship to boot, so it's up to him to not flirt, not let his eye wander, and if he's not happy with his relationship, to do something about it his own damn self.

But whatever. He hasn't outright said anything to me, and I'm not about to mess things up by bringing it up unless I have to, with only a few months left in my time as Valerie (we are booked for July, which feels very far, but will be here before we know it.) It almost feels silly to worry about any of this.

But he did play me thing song a few nights ago, called "Sunset"... and it was really beautiful and sweet and sincere... and I couldn't help but think it was probably about me... just because there's a line about "I spent a lifetime chasing your glow, just to know, you're always on the other side of that horizon..." which seems to be about his ongoing crush on Valerie from before... and hey, my hair is sort of an orangey-yellow "sunset" color...

Maybe I'm just turning toward Ryan because I'm somewhat bothered by the other men in my life... or should I say just the one other, Rafe. For a while after we hung out those few times, I could tell he was angling to get in my panties, so I worked to shut that down. Then he started recognizing me as the closet thing to a "bro" there, someone he could talk to about "guy stuff," which is great, sure. If he needs an outlet, I can slip into that old mindset. He's kinda fun and amusing, in that immature way, hiding how smart and capable he actually is. I wanted to give him a fair shake.

Then I started hearing these weird, like, barely-hidden messages in what he was saying, like he's going out of his way to be obnoxious. He would tell me about a Tinder hook-up he had, saying "Man, her boobs were so big... almost as big as yours... and honestly, it was too much. Too big! There's gotta be a limit. You can't do anything with them once they get to a certain size. Like anything beyond a C-Cup, it's just a hassle."

Or, "She was good and tall... you know, I like to look a girl right in the eye, just a little bit shorter than me. Or maybe even taller than me. I'd love to date a chick who was over 6 feet tall. I probably couldn't date anyone below 5'6... no offense."

Privately I'm fuming, but if I acknowledge the potshots at my appearance, I'm a "bad sport" or too self-involved. Honestly, I think he's trying to get under my skin like a kid on the playground, because he likes me too...

I know what you're thinking, Miss Self-Absorbed over here, thinks everyone likes her... well listen, you get used to seeing the signs and reading into things like that.

But hell, work isn't very stimulating and there's not a lot else going on. This is pretty much all I have to think about... which makes me a little sad, but at least I've gotten over being sad about being female in the first place, so I just put on something sexy and go out drinking with Brigette to cheer myself up. We let ourselves get hit on, come right to the brink of going home with someone and then give them the slip. Pete swears one of these days he's going to go through with it, and I want to empower that. Me, I could take it or leave it... I don't need to "find out" what sex is like, so I don't need to get laid just for the sake of getting laid. But the clock is ticking, and who knows who we'll be next time, so I think if she wants it she should have some fun.

Me, I'm looking into online courses that maybe I could take in my next life... depending on how things go, you know... just an idle thought. I don't want to pour coffee or flip eggs for the rest of my days...

-Tyler-Valerie

Tyler the Valerie: Frustration... and relief

Yesterday was one of those rough days that really underscored how frustrating life could be. Not that I would blame it all on being transformed, although if I never had been to that Inn it's hard to imagine myself having any of these problems... but things might not be as different as I'd like to think. Yes, I'd still be male (and trust me, being female has a way of compounding every single one of you daily issues in sometimes unexpected ways) but would things be that good? I've got to wonder.

A lot of the things that were bugging me were not really gender-related, mind you. It was just a tougher-than-usual day to withstand. There was the usual bullshit with the boy-children I live with, with the place looking like as much of a wreck and the whole gang is totally apathetic about it. Then I worked all day shorthanded due to an illness, with some big pop-up event happening down the block that led to a 300% increase in traffic and only me and Maddie to cover it. Everyone who we could have called in had other plans, except Rafe, who declined because he was "not feeling it today."

So the two of us were absolutely killing ourselves trying to fill five orders a minute, sweating through my best bra, with entitled suit-bros eager to debate who got what order wrong and how until they get a refund, like I have time for any of this, as if there isn't a line out the door. So by the end of nine hours - oh yes, I stayed an extra hour - I was tired, and all of my parts, from my shoulders and back down to my knees and ankles, were sore to the bone. (In case you weren't aware, having breasts this size on such a petite frame really taxes your muscles, especially when you have to spend all day bending down, stretching up, and just generally on your feet.) And I had been so eager to get out of the apartment that morning that I skipped breakfast, which made me so hungry by the time I took my break that I was too faint and nauseous to actually eat. I won't repeat that mistake again... probably.

By the time it was over I did not want to do anything, but oh, I had already agreed to go out with Pete/Brigette because she had gotten us on the list for this hot new piano bar. Plus, I had given her a minor earful when she was nowhere to be found and I "had to" crash at Rafe's that one night, (even though it wasn't so bad at the time - my current anger at him notwithstanding.) So I didn't think I would be able to get out of it, and I actually didn't want to because I was dying for some Inn-Victim company so I could complain about what's really bugging me for once.

I ranted and raved for twenty minutes while Pete wrestled Brigette's hair into a really nice up-do. I scoured tall-thin Brigette's wardrobe for something that might fit stumpy-booby me, eventually coming a cross a top that was probably meant to be billowy, but clung to me decently, and a skirt-tight combo that I didn't hate putting on.

I complained, a bit, about how hard it was to find clothes that fit nicely, and Pete, ever the optimist, complimented Valerie's looks, saying she had a great figure.

I rolled my eyes, "Great to look at, I suppose, but not always fun to live in."

She paused, considered my case, and shrugged, "Let's find you some shoes."

I  was a little miffed that Pete didn't take my grievances seriously. If anyone could understand what I'm going through, it's him/her. But I've learned over the past year that Pete isn't wired to dwell on these things, which I envy a bit, but am also baffled by. Am I to believe that nothing bad has happened to him since being Brigette? No depression or dismay, hardly even a gender-related faux-pas? If there has, he has hardly mentioned it.

So we went out to the bar, this very upscale piano joint Pete heard  about through Brigette's connections. I would have felt out of place here in any one of my lives, but P is able to glide in like she owns the place.

As soon as we are seated, we're approached by these two women. "Brigette!" one called out with an enthusiastic wave and a goofy smile, dragging her friend over. Pete looked at me for a second, with that all-too-familiar expression of "Crap, now I have to pretend I know these people."

Then Girl #1 says, "Comment ca va, Cherie?" which I recognize as French. And she natters on for a minute or so with hardly a breath, in French, on whatever she had been up to since the last time she saw (the real) Brigette.

I look over at Pete, like "Wow, how do we get out of this?"

And Pete looks lost for just a second before she replies... in what I can only assume was proper, flawless French, and before you know it the three of them are having a long conversation in that language like they're total BFF's, and I'm stuck on the outside.

Eventually they all start laughing, and I ask Pete what was so funny, and she says, "Oh, I asked if they'd mind speaking  English, because it's a little rude to speak French in front of an American, and she said 'That's the point!'"

"Huh, charming," I sneered.

Pete asked them to introduce themselves to me, as a sly way of getting their names, Caroline and Maryse.

They talked for a while about the New York Art Scene, which is how they knew Brigette. I had zero to say in any language, so I just grabbed a glass of wine and sipped liberally. When they finally moved on to their own thing and said adieu, I huffed to Pete, "You speak French?"

"Oh, that? Yeah, um, I picked it up years ago along with a few other languages. I'm just glad they weren't Russian."

I rolled my eyes but made nothing further of it. We got a table and moved away from the subject when the next frustrating thing happened. A familiar voice crept up behind me, "Look who it is! Mind if we join?"

I turned and saw Ryan and Alexa hovering over me. "Woah, what are you guys doing here?" I asked.

"Alexa's dad told us about this place," Ryan said. He was looking sharp as hell in a suit that fit just right, and Alexa was looking typically glamorous in a cocktail dress with a plunging neckline that showed off her perfect, trim body.

"Well, that's all well and good that you three are such piano lovers," I said, "Or maybe you're jsut here for the hors d'ouevres. I'd kill for a plate of wings, but I don't think they serve them at a place like this."

Ryan smiled, "There's a bar down the block, Austin's, best wings in the city. Top five at least."

"I'm there," I grinned back, "Might have to leave these two behind, they're not dressed for it."

"Ew," Alexa sneered, "I don't even like wings."

"Blasphemy," I laughed, "Ryan, what are you doing with a girl who doesn't like wings?"

"She has other good qualities," he looked her over fondly. She didn't seem to appreciate the remark.

"Ry, I'm bored, let's go dance," she whined. He said he didn't feel like it yet and needed another drink, so she went by herself to sway in the crowd as the piano man played some kind of jazz thing.

There was a long moment and Ryan said, "You don't like her, do you?"

"I didn't say anything!" I protested. "Maybe I razzed her a bit."

"It's okay, she's a little stuck up, I know," he said.

"And boring," Pete nodded.

"Pe--Brigette!" I scolded.

"What? We were all thinking it!" She laughed.

"I apologize for my tactless friend," I said.

Ryan changed the subject quickly, "So, you and the guys still fighting?" asking about my interactions with the roommates.

"Yeah, uh, I didn't move in to become a human dishwasher, Ryan."

"They're a little bitter because I got you a good deal," Ryan said, "Alexa's dad owns the place."

"You don't say," I said. "In that case, marry that girl. And let me live there forever. But kick them out."

"Yeah, we'll see," Ryan smiled, downing the rest of his drink and joining Alexa on the dancefloor.

Eventually the night ran its course and we left. On the way out, we passed Caroline and Maryse in the midst of a very heavy make-out session in full public view. "Huh," I said. "I wouldn't have guessed."

"I got a bit of a vibe," Pete said. "Wasn't sure if it was my imagination or anything. Gotta admit, I'm a little jealous."

"Of what?" I asked."Kissing girls?"

"I can't be the only one frustrated to find myself walled off from my former sexuality... wishing I could be a girl who kisses girls, but every time I think about it something turns me off."

"Yeah," I shrugged, "I guess it sucks..."

"I mean, don't get me wrong. Realistically, I knew that being a woman wasn't automatically going to be a sorority sleepover, but I'm kind of stuck between. I miss the excitement of romance either way. Nothing does it for me these days... I miss the confidence that comes with being a heterosexual man. Or knowing exactly what you are either way. I'm sure you remember what it's like, before you got used to it."

"Used to it?" I snorted, "What makes you think I'm used to anything?"

"Aw, come on, Ty," she said in a sing-song voice. "I see you batting your eyes at Ryan, who I'll admit is objectively a hot guy. And I was around you when you were with Josh, you can't deny you were a little smitten."

"He was all right," I huffed.

"I think you really liked him. I think you enjoyed playing Val's part in their relationship. And I think he was the first person since Meghan who really did anything for you and it hurt a lot when he broke up with you-slash-Valerie. And there's nothing wrong with any of that, like I said, I'm jealous of your ability to like dudes."

"I've seen you be way more flirty than me," I insisted, not even bothering to address the accusations about Josh.

"It's an act," she sighed. "Fake it 'till you make it."

I didn't know what to say but eventually I muttered, "I'd love to tell you it gets easier, but a lot of the time it's just confusing on a whole new level."

Notwithstanding the statements she was making about me - whether they had any truth or not - I kind of appreciated seeing Pete's vulnerable side. To me, he had always been in command of the situation in a way I wasn't - walking into Brigette's life, doing her job, embracing her style and fashion, friending her friends, speaking French and all, and never seeming to complain or stumble.

She walked me home and when we got in, I was somewhat surprised to see Ryan had beaten me
home. I was even more surprised to find him in the kitchen, doing dishes, shirtless.

When I noticed, I maybe gave out a little gasp of "Ry!" He turned and acknowledged me.

"Hey, uh... just thought I'd pitch in. I know I'm always out, but it's my place too and it's only fair."

"Thanks," I said warmly, "If only the other guys had the same attitude." I did my best to keep my eyes on his upper third, probably because of what Pete had said about me, but I had to admit he was more in shape than I thought he would be - better-looking from that perspective than Josh. And after all these years I ought to not have a problem admitting that here.

"They'll come around," he said. "I'll have a word. And hey, I'm sorry I haven't really hung out with you since we, uh, since you moved in."

"Oh, uh, don't worry about it. Things are what they are. It's good training for if I have kids someday," I said somewhat sardonically, and forgetting, just for a second, that I kind of already was a mom.

"You know that piano bar," he said, "Has an open-mic night. Think I might sign up. I know it's not your scene - even though a few years ago you probably would have loved to hang out there every night. But would you come support? I haven't played live in like a yea, and I'm a little nervous."

I didn't realize he was a musician... come to think, when he was around, I did often hear music coming from his room, but I thought it was a recording. He was good.

"Of course," I said warmly, going to pat him on the shoulder, then thinking better of it and pulling back. I bid him an awkward good night.

I went to my room and started to change for bed. And I thought, if I seem as confident in my sexual identity as Pete is saying, I thought, maybe it's time to explore that, and not with someone by circumstance puts me with. In fact, I thought, as I studied my naked body, I had been here all this time and hardly appreciated it.

There is a lot to like, if you can get past the inconveniences and aches. The elegant way my hair sways as my turn my head. The sexy curve of my hips as I prop myself up on the bed. The soft weight of my breasts in my hands as I caress... the sensitivity of my skin, causing me to perk up and feel warm as I slip my fingers down further... taking time for myself, outside my my hang ups and frustrations and finding the good in this situation. "Having my fun" as Valerie suggested I do. I didn't even try to stifle any of the sounds I might have made, inadvertently, as I pleasured myself...

And then just as I was reaching my finishing point, I hear the faint sound of piano music in the other room...

I couldn't help but laugh.

-Tyler, currently Valerie

Tyler/Valerie: Bombshell

Where to begin...


Well, I guess I can thank "Brigette" for giving you all her perspective on the wedding, since I ended up not being able to write about it until now. I guess it's time to explain some of what she was observing but not fully understanding.


As we got closer and closer to the wedding I became stronger in my conviction that Josh wasn't being completely truthful. As someone who is prone to keeping secrets and telling lies and half-truths - sometimes even when I don't have to, I'm sad to say - I recognized too many signs to let it go. Even when I pressed him directly ,and he denied it, I kept strategizing how I would find him out. He may have had Valerie's trust but he hadn't earned mine. Not with that mystery cell phone and those phony flowers.


So on the day of the wedding, my stomach was in knots. my every instinct was yelling at me not to go through with this farce of a ceremony, but I wasn't very well going to stomp off in dramatic fashion on a hunch. There was too much at stake and I was still considering Val's feelings.


Luckily, Josh finally - at the very last minute - did the right thing.


That would be the moment he came to see me in the Bridal Suite and we had our private talk. Now enough time had passed that I don't feel wrong telling you what was said.


He came in with this shoulders-slumped hang dog expression, looking very apologetic and guilt-ridden. I tried not to buy into it, sure it was an act. But even if I was not in a place to trust this guy, we still had some kind of connection based on my time as Valerie, and part of me desperately wanted to believe that he was genuine.


After hemming and hawing for a minute, he started by saying he wanted to apologize in advance... for lying, keeping secrets, all that stuff. That he knew he had done something wrong but that he wa still the same man (Val) had fallen in love with and that if I could forgive him we could probably move forward and adapt, but... but maybe that wasn't possible. and it would be a change.


I told him to cut the rambling already and get to the point.


"I can't marry you, Valerie." he sighed.


I stared coldly at him. "Why not?"


He couldn't even look at me when he said it: "Because I'm already married."


The way he said this indicated that it was not something Val would have known (and honestly the way she'd been acting there was no way she even suspected.) I tried to keep cool outside but there was a fire building inside of me. I hissed: "What."


"It was a mistake, before you and I got together... we rushed in and it fell apart immediately. I always meant to finalize the papers, but... a few months ago, something happened."


Fire building. "What."


"We got to talking, and talk turned into... something else... and, well, it was a mistake."


I said nothing. I knew there had to be more, and there was.


"A little while later, I found out... there were consequences."


I grunted. "Go on."


"She's five months pregnant, Val. She says if I leave her, she'll take everything I have."


I don't know exactly how to describe the sound I made in response to this... a grunt of shock, disappointment, hurt, exasperation, and oddly, satisfaction at being proved right... whatever it was, it definitely wasn't ladylike.


It was hard to process - to filter through any Val perspective I may have had. All I could say was, "God, you fucked up. You fucked up so badly."


To me, it would have been one thing if he had just cheated. Maybe Val could forgive that. It's another to have been married (and facing a likely costly divorce, if he even really wanted to split up from her.) all this time he was engaged, basically defrauding Val about his finances. And then to bring a child into it - all while basically hounding me about knocking me up in the near future! I couldn't overlook it and I was damn sure Valerie would be hurt beyond belief.


I felt like an idiot, sitting there in my whole wedding getup, looking like some teenage girl's idea of a royal wedding, my face painted up and my hair done with hours of care. I felt shattered, almost as bad as finding out I wasn't ever going to be Tyler Blake again. I didn't think it would sting as badly, as personally, as it did, but in the past few months I have been very invested in Valerie's life, her problems, and this was a big problem.


I wanted to get bigger and angrier than I think I am capable of getting in this tiny "cute" body, and that frustrated me even further.


He went to do another round of apologies and begging forgiveness and I cut him off.


I should have called off the wedding. I should have been honest with everybody and told them to go home, but there was so much time and money in this, and I didn't want Val to hear it that way. I didn't want the embarrassment of being publicly humiliated like that, to have to field those questions.


Whether it was the right call or the wrong one, I said... let's go through with the wedding, and deal with all this later.


The license wouldn't be real - polygamy is illegal in New York State, so it would be annulled without delay, I reckoned. The whole thing would effectively be a lie but my whole life is a lie at this point so what's one more. I'm used to it.


Now, as much time as I've spent these past few years as other people, I'm probably not that great an actor so I think probably everyone could tell there was something wrong as I was walking down the aisle. What should have been a beautiful, sacred moment between two people who love each other was instead all just a show (which again, it would have been anyway, only now the whole meaning was changed.) There I was, silently fuming, my voice trembling as I struggled to say "I promise to love, honor and respect you" to a man I hoped I would never have to see again very soon. All I could do was mentally write out how I was even going to explain all this to Val. I felt sick.


After the I Do's, we were alone in the Limo. I could hardly look at him. He tried to start our conversation back up and I cut him off, basically dropping my character.


"You know something, man? I knew there was something wrong with you. You were so fucking lovey-dovey and attentive and all that, that should have been the tip-off. But I wanted to believe and I wanted to trust you. I don't believe you ever wanted to leave her. I think you wanted us both and you only confessed now because you realized you were cornered. Either that or you were too 'nice,' I mean too much of a coward, to come clean and say you didn't want to marry V--me. I fuckin' hate you right now."


Once the words were out of my mouth I realized that they probably hit a lot harder from Val's mouth than from Tyler Blake's, but I didn't care. He deserved to be hurt badly. Some people just do. Some people deserve hell and for once it's not me.
His defense was "I still love you and I still want to be with you, not her."
I sneered. "I don't believe that for a second, and even if you do, you can't. You blew it."


We put our fake smiles back on as best we could for the reception but after unloading like that obviously neither of us were really feeling like having our "first dance" or feeding cake to each other. We just kind of relied on the natural hustle and bustle of a wedding to keep us busy, while I made it clear to Anna that I needed to speak with her in private before the end of the night, but only after as much of the festivities as we could get through. I was relying on her to guide me through all the thanks and congratulations.


When all that was satisfied, I took her outside and did my best to break the news to her as gently as it would come, but how you tell somebody their would-be husband is a babydaddy without causing a scene, I don't know. Valerie started hyperventilating and stormed out, never to return. When I texted her, she said she needed to process all of this.


Keep in mind, she didn't want me sleeping with him in her body, so the idea that he would be pursuing an affair - even a non-physical one - was probably not going to be something she could take well, not that I blame her.


And that was the night. The night that was supposed to be so magical and perfect turned out to be exceptionally shitty. I told Josh that I needed him to go on the Honeymoon alone, and that when he came back, I would be out of the apartment and after a reasonable length of time we would tell "our friends" that it just didn't work out, although now that I think about it, I don't know why I should lie and feel embarrassed just because I/Valerie was wronged. He's the fuck-up, he should face it.


Anyway. What I did while Josh was away - where I'm living and how I spent my "Honeymoon," I'll explain another time because that's a whole other story. This was draining. And it wasn't even really my wedding in the first place, and on top of all that, I've been fighting a cold all week, and believe me, Valerie's body is one of the less-resilient ones I've had.


-Tyler

Pete/Brigette: The Blushing Bride

I haven't known Tyler very long, in person, but combining what I know about him/her through the blog with what I have learned since meeting her at the Inn, I could tell this Josh thing was really upsetting her. Her Bachelorette Party was the Saturday before the wedding and she was obviously very sullen. Who could blame her. Even if, to the outside observer, she was a woman about to marry the man she had loved since she was a teenager, a select few know the truth: that inside, she is a person being forced into a very awkward scenario at best, a permanently life-altering one at worst.


"Anna" was invited, at Tyler's behest, although seeing "herself" all pouty put her in a bad mood, especially seeing the effect it was having on the atmosphere. To maintain cover, she didn't cling to Valerie too much, and instead seemed to enjoy being able to walk amongst her friends and relatives as a "stranger."


I tried to liven things up a bit. When we got to the bar, I ordered a round of shots, and let a guy drink out of my navel. I wasn't planning on doing it but it was a spur-of-the-moment impulse that felt right for me at the time. I'm all about new experiences and as you can guess, being an attractive black woman in the city has provided plenty of those. (He lost interest in me after I spanked him at pool and maybe rubbed it in too much.)


By the time of the wedding day, Tyler told me, things had gotten worse rather than better. She had mentioned the flowers to Josh, and he came up with what she referred to as a "lame explanation" about changing his mind what kind of bouquet he'd wanted to give, and that was all... on paper it seems fine to me, but she explained she could feel he was just making something up on the spot.


I clung close to Tyler's side on the wedding day. There obviously aren't a lot of chances to get a private conversation with the Bride, especially with Nosy Marie the Maid of Honor insisting she be Val's shadow all day, but I was a good liaison between Tyler and the real Valerie, who also didn't have much access given she was just a "random, last minute guest." (I feel like Marie somewhat resented their sudden closeness when "Anna" seemed to have come out of nowhere in the last few weeks.)


By the time I finally saw Tyler, in the gown and make-up, she was, I can't deny it, absolutely gorgeous. I'm sure she didn't want to hear it, and at best it was bittersweet, but that body knows how to wear a dress. She's got tits until Tuesday and curves in all the right places, and just the cutest face.


She kind of gave me an eyeroll when I said so. "Just part of the job," she grumbled in that very Tyler way (albeit with Val's cutesy falsetto voice.)


"Well, if you don't mind me saying so, I know it's the Bride's day, but personally, I think I'm wearing the hell out of this Bridesmaid's dress, too." So sue me if I feel like I look good and wanted to work it.


I should note that my date for the wedding, Chad, is the real Brigette - she has become a white frat-boy type of guy, and may I say, looks quite dashing in a suit. "Don't get any ideas," he said knowingly. "The whole screw yourself idea doesn't appeal to me."


I winked, "Never know, after a few champagnes..." S/he responded with a look that said "Don't make this weird," so I laid off for the night, but we did dance a bit.


As Marie and I were tending to Tyler in the Bridal suite, Josh showed up. Marie tried to bar him from entering due to superstition, but I coaxed her away to let the two talk - she seemed bitter that I would be privy to any drama between them that she wouldn't.


I tried to listen through the door but they spoke in hushed voices for a while. Then he came out looking like he'd seen a ghost. I almost thought maybe Tyler had told the truth, and he had believed it... but there was no indication of that for the rest of the day.


We took our seats in the Church. If there was something wrong, Josh wore a decent poker face. The whole place fell silent as the Bridal march played, and I watched Tyler - as convincing as Valerie as she's ever been - march toward the altar. "Chad" and I kept our eyes partly on "Anna," two seats over, tearing up, clearly overcome.


As they delivered their vows, there was clearly some nervousness, and maybe others would chalk it up to just regular wedding jitters but I feel like there's more going on. But before you knew it, the ring was on the finger, and the kiss was done, the paperwork signed and that was it.


Valerie Stewart is a married woman.


But as they back walked down the aisle, Ty's glance caught me, and it seemed like she was trying to tell me something, something more than what I already know about how effed up this wedding is.


The reception was... a bit flat. There were speeches, Tyler seemed very disengaged, and she and Josh barely even seemed to look at each other. I had wanted to get Tyler alone and ask what exactly had happened, but the Bride made the rounds (checking in with Anna for a refresher on who everybody was) and was hard to pin down. When I finally did get her, between courses, she gave me this "We'll talk later" brushoff, but... we never did.


Chad and I danced a bit, although he was nervous about getting close. So I played wingwoman and helped him pick out girls to talk to all night who weren't secretly his proper body. That said, we did have kind of a good time together - we talked about leaning into potential attraction to the opposite sex, and he played it down like maybe his biology was telling him something but he really just wanted to have innocent fun. He also noted how glad he was not to be wearing my shoes. (I changed into slip-ons as soon as I was able!) We also did our best to buoy Anna's spirits, but it's hard to help the "This should be my wedding" blues.


I got hit on a fair bit once it was clear I was not "with" Chad, and got a few phone numbers. Whether I plan on doing anything about it depends on what kind of innocent fun I want to have for the rest of my time here.


Ty and Josh seemed to duck out early, and once a Bride and Groom leave the reception is basically over. I haven't seen Ty since, and I assume they went on the honeymoon as planned.


I guess we'll have to wait for the rest of the story, sorry.


-"Brigette"

Tyler/Valerie: Plans, schemes, suspicions and reunions

"I've got a plan," Valerie texts me one day out of the blue.


I brace myself - we've been working separately on how I'm going to address Valerie's "Children Immediately After Marriage" pact with Josh. I'm a little skeptical that she's actually got something usable but I tell her to hit me with it.


"Say you're already pregnant."


I'm glad I didn't get my hopes up.


"No, it will make perfect sense," she insists. "That way he won't bug you about getting pregnant, and it will make sense with your recent change in... behavior. And then that way, you won't have to have sex with him at all!"


"But how am I supposed to be pregnant? He hasn't had sex with-- uh, either of us in months."


"You could be three months in! Lots of women take time to show."


"But I'm not going to show."


"Hit the buffet! He won't know the difference."


I mean, I've been through this process so many times and I have to admit I haven't always coped well under pressure, but this seems especially moronic.


"That really won't work," I sigh, "He knows I've gotten my period."


"Damnit," she replied. "I didn't think he would be paying attention to that."


"Well, he is... he's very attentive."


"I know. God, I miss him. Tell him you love him as soon as you can, okay?"


"Okay. By the way, Val, I have something to tell you, I don't know if you are already aware of this..."


See, the other week, when I was laid up on the couch, I notice something hard and plastic under my ass. I dug under the cushion and found... an old flip-phone. What you might know from Breaking Bad as a "burner."


It had only one number in it and a long series of text messages cryptically saying dates and times, or the occasional "cancellation." The texts were are recent as October.


"I'm guessing it isn't yours," I told her. "And the dates frequently correspond to weekends when Josh was away."


It took her a while to respond, but when she did was, "It's probably just an old work phone. Don't worry about it."


"Val, it's still being used, and not for everyday purposes. This seems incredibly suspicious..." not clarifying that I would know suspicious behavior.


"Drop it, okay? It's none of our business."


I left the phone where it was, knowing that if Josh saw it was gone he would know I had it.


The way I see it, there are two possibilities. One is that Josh is involved in something illegal... insider trading? Drugs? I don't know.


The other possibility is that he's having an affair.


If either one is the case, I honestly don't know what to do. Do I let Val go through with the wedding, and then I'm ostensibly married to a criminal or a cheater? What if, God forbid, I get stuck here, in that situation, especially if we don't figure out a way to avoid me getting pregnant? I'm sorry, I can't leave this idly be.


I didn't want to believe it, because Josh seems a genuinely sweet, caring guy, what kind of stuff could he be involved in? But it's often people you don't expect, because they put in a lot of effort not to be suspected... and since I've been here, Josh's way of doting on me has often seemed... a bit over-the-top.


So I did something I never thought I would have to do. I called my ex-girlfriend to ask her to trail my future husband.


Pete/Brigette, who lives for "Freaky Inn Drama," by her own admission, was disappointed that I didn't call her in on this, but my reasons were obvious: Josh knows Brigette well and would know if he were being followed by her. There was a good chance that Meg would be able to just blend in and go unnoticed.


I'm lucky that Meg still cares enough about me to come all the way down from Vermont, and came up with some cover story to explain it to Justin.


So we waited for this past Friday, when the latest "Meeting" (we assume) was scheduled, for 6:30. Meg was stationed outside his work on Wall Street. When she spotted him leaving, she followed him through the subway, up to a restaurant on 49th Street. It was pricey ("Okay, I'll reimburse... but remember I pour coffee for a living!") and he was eating alone.


Then she followed him to a flower shop in China town. He went in for a while and came out with a bouquet.


Then he got in a cab and disappeared.


"You couldn't follow him?" I asked ruefully.


"Sorry Ty, the whole 'Follow That Cab' thing only works in movies," she sighed, "And in fact I don't even think it works there. I'm a Humanities Grad Student, not a spy."


Still, that was valuable info. A fucking bouquet? Before going away for the weekend? That's a giant red flag, right?


I started to get hot under the collar. I was being cheated on -- I mean, Val was being cheated on, but I felt some of it too, because it meant the affection he was giving to Val, through me, was all a lie, and... well, it is an incredibly messed up situation.


Once we lost track of Josh, Meg and Brigette and I all went out for drinks. Brig was worried about being a bit of a third wheel, but whenever you group a certain number of Inn-people together we all break the ice over our shared experiences so it's not like she was unwelcome. (Honestly, I've been so wrapped up in my own shit lately that I haven't been able to write about the friendship I've forged with her, but she's been very supportive of this "Male fiancé, no sex" situation. Maybe someday she'll bring you up to speed on her drama...)


Meg, who loves New York but doesn't get to come down very often, really felt floored to be visiting me. Time has healed a lot of the wounds between us, and partly that might be because I have spent the last year and more outwardly female... meaning, I guess, that it's easier to think of me as a different person than the one who cruelly left Meghan in early 2016.


As we sat and drank, I kept catching Meghan's eye looking me over and giving a knowing smirk. At first I thought it was judgment for wearing a low-cut top (it's really hard to button these gals all the way up) or maybe... something she approved of.
"What?" I finally asked.


"You're so different now," she said oddly approvingly.


"I only look different," I sighed, "I'm the same crummy person inside."


"You're not. You were never crummy, but take it from someone who has known you as so many different people... this body suits you. It's doing something to your personality. It's like you're... free."


"I'm not," I smiled meekly, "I'm very much in girl-jail. Fiancee-jail. Soon to be marriage-jail."


"Pregnant-jail next!" Brig cheered, unhelpfully.


"Not happening," I scolded.


"Okay, you don't think you've changed. But as long as I've known you you've always seemed like the world was on your back, and now... even with all these stresses and conflicts, the weights isn't there anymore."


"No, the weight's all on my front," I said.


"I'll say, yowza!" she said, eyeballing my chest. "I thought I had it bad as Tasha... well, I did, but you're so short, it looks different on you."


"Any excuse to talk about your tits," Brigette teased. "You don't hear me bringing up my skin color every other second."


"Fair point," I said, "How's, um... how's that working out for you by the way?"


"It's... interesting..." she said, getting a faraway look in her eye, "Most people won't say anything about it, you know, if you're just out in the world. I mean, this isn't the fifties. But if I go to a bar or a busy restaurant or even a store, and I don't see any other black people I feel very aware of it."


We noted with some interest that there were now three "black women" visible on the blog, more than in the past, but why shouldn't there be? The Inn definitely does a random enough job screwing up peoples' lives. (Then Brigette made a crack that it was surprising, since "Brothas and Sistas don't fuck with Scary-Ass Hotels in Maine," putting on a exaggerated "soul sista" voice that caused Meg and I to both insist she never, ever do that again.)


We had a few more rounds and I really put Val's alcohol tolerance to the test, calling this "My real, unofficial Bachelorette Party" since two of the only people who truly care about Tyler Blake were there (My sister Carrie and Kitty, I think, being the other two.) We stumbled home and Meg crashed in my bed and... well, it was weird.


I was lying there in bed with this woman I had loved, this person I was sure I still had unresolved feelings for no matter how hard I tried to move on, and yet... it wasn't hard to resist doing more than that. It wasn't hard to put up a barrier between us. To draw the line and say... this is someone else's girlfriend, and you are someone else's wife-to-be, and... hell, you're both woman and you're just not aligned that way anymore.


I was filled with a kind of romantic longing for what we'd had once, and yet... completely (well, mostly,) without the physical impulses that went along with that.


Hey, on the one hand I would have loved a lesbian experience... or a sexual experience of any kind that I could enjoy... on the other hand, I knew it would be wrong, that our time was passed and this was not us anymore. I suddenly realized that "that" feeling was gone, replaced by, well, true friendship.


Which, considering what I was feeling about Josh at the time, was really comforting.


I invited Meg to stay for Val's Bridal Shower the next day, but she declined, along with my invitation to come to the wedding. "Honestly, I would love to be there to support you, but I'm really not in favor of spending a whole day in the company of strangers having to lie about why I'm there."


I sneered at her, "What do you think I'm going to be doing?"


"Fair enough," she slightly reprimanded herself, "But I really don't feel like I belong. It's one thing to become friends with your ex, but to watch him walk down the aisle... in white gown, no less..."


Through gritted teeth, "You know I'm not really getting married, right?"


"I just really don't think it's a good idea." Solid points she may have had but I was disappointed. Still, it's fixing to be a real busy day for me and I wouldn't be able to make much time for her, and I know she's real sensitive about being left out like that. I promised that I wouldn't let too much time go by before we see each other again.


At the Bridal Shower, I was probably very obviously disinterested... I had a lot on my mind, my emotional state starting to really catch up on me, not just with my suspicions against Josh, but my compunctions about taking Val's place at all. Being the center of attention as her felt wrong, and I knew it would only be worse when I walk down that aisle.


Making things even more complicated was that Val was there.


We invited "Anna" down to see/"meet" her friends, and see what Marie had done for her as Maid of Honor. She looked suitably pleased, and I've gotten the impression from josh that she can be a bit... controlling? Difficult? Impossible? I try to give her the benefit of the doubt but the way he seems afraid to cross her/me, the more I wonder what exactly is so messed up with their dynamic.


It was nice to put a face to the name, though. Phyiscally, Anna is as different from Val as I could imagine. Only a little bit younger, but tall and willowy (she describes her transformation as "A boob job in reverse, plus my legs turning my nightie into a top.") She's quick to call herself less attractive, but she looks very different, with a long, thin nose, eyes that seem a little close together, and a little bit of an overbite, but I think she looks perfectly nice.


She was careful not to seem too enthusiastic about it, and coached me on how I should be responding... which is good because I was in a daze and still debating whether to tell her about the bouquet.


What I didn't know is that there's a tradition with Bridal Showers... at the very end of it, who should appear but Josh, brandishing a beautiful bouquet.


For a little while, I really was Val, melting in appreciation. I hated to lay it on thick with her standing right there, but anything less than full sicky sweet couple mode would have seemed odd.


So that was that. I'm still a little twigged about the secret phone, but the bouquet makes me think we were overreacting to the whole thing. Maybe this guy really is as good as he seems... even if my gut is still telling me different.


-Ty

Tyler/Valerie: Work

Josh was very supportive when I told him I was already applying for new jobs.

"Great," he says, "Where?"

I name off a few restaurants that are hiring in the kitchen. Immediately he winces.

"Hon, um... what about ECE?"

ECE = Early Childhood Education, Valerie's chosen field, what she just graduated from College to learn. A subject I happen to know nothing about, despite recently playing the part of "Mom."

At this time, it was early August, still time to find employment in that field by September, but I am not interested in trying to fake my way through someone else's job.

I stammer out a lie, "Oh, yeah, I've been looking... nothing concrete yet. But I figured I'd take on a second job, too, you know... student loans don't pay themselves off."

"I see," he nods. "Okay, if that's what you think is best."

I twist my mouth mischievously. "Not all of us got a nice Wall Street job right out of school, with our uncle's neighbor." I happen to have some knowledge of Josh's life.

"Hey, I earned this," he smiles, "With hours and hours of unpaid internship, remember?"

"Right," I say, delivering the coup de grace, "And that internship was possible because your loving girlfriend worked 40 hours a week on top of her school schedule to pay for a place to live."

He huffs an apologetic, "Let's not have this fight again," and hugs me. I don't feel good about it, but knowing how Val had him wrapped around his finger comes in handy.

I did put in some applications for Daycare and Infant Care positions, and any interviews I got, I bombed -- perhaps deliberately but I doubt I would present as the most capable candidate. Still, it doesn't take much, just slouch, seem disinterested, and have bad answers. So I could look Josh in the eye and say I tried.

By late August, I still didn't have an ECE job and Josh was off my case. But I still didn't have a part time job either.

It was frustrating. I'm not a brilliant chef by any means but I have some good skills and can be slotted in to any line. But I'm used to Kitchen Managers looking at me and seeing a rugged, experienced guy, not a fresh-faced young girl with no kitchen jobs on her resume, just waitressing (snd knowing the friction that often exists between front-of-house staff and the kitchen... yikes.) Honestly, I look like a delicate flower who would get stomped on in a kitchen, and I know it.

So, finally, I challenged my interviewer: take me back there, slot me in for a shift, unpaid and off the books. If you like my work, hire me. This is at a pretty nice Manhattan hotel, they don't usually do stuff like this.

This was no exception. But I had "balls, for a broad" so I got a two-week assessment period.

At the end of week one, I was sweaty and exhausted, this body not used to producing the adrenaline necessary for a high pressure work environment (although I'm sure childcare is not a snooze either!) But I survive my probation.

Two benefits here: One, I make my own money, so I don't have to pathetically ask my financially-stable fiancé for hand outs. And two, the hours are like 4 PM-close, which could be well after midnight, so I don't much see him... which, hey, I like the guy well enough but it makes things a lot easier with our no-intimacy pact.

The only problem is? I freaking hated it.

Like I said, Val isn't necessarily built for this... I have no reach, and my boobs get in the way of everything. Plus, there's a lot of yelling that needs to be done and whenever I hear my high-pitched voice call out "Yes, Chef!" I cringe. I felt like I'd lost more than a step and was going home frustrated and upset every night. I was almost as achy and tired after one day as I was during a week of being Judith (who, you might recall, was prone to migraines and sore joints.)

A lot has changed for me, but kitchen jobs are basically the same. The mentality is very much immature frathouse hijinks to take the pressure off. Guys talk about dirty stuff they would to do female patrons, have contests to see how long they can hold spatulas in their asses, and of course do filthy things to the food of patrons they didn't like.

Aside from my years in the Guard, I spent most of my 20's as part of that world. And it made a lot of sense then. But not now.

Even worse... I'm an outsider, a new hire who seemingly has no experience, looks prissy and soft, and has no previous experience. So I got targeted pretty bad. Now, I can take it, like I said I've been around the block -- if they want to come at me with some sexist remarks about how they want to tie my tits to the house from "Up" and float away, I can fire back about how I would crush their junk into a cube like "Wall-E." And if they want to smear certain bodily fluids on the very nice, very expensive bra I left in my locker (remember, not many retailers carry decent bras in all sizes) I can deposit certain sanitary devices in their lockers.

I could earn their respect, but it took me a while to realize... why should I bother?

I was venting to Pete about how much extra work it was, how I felt so differently about it now, because I'm a bit older and female, so my perspective has changed.

Pete shrugged, "So, why bother? Why not just quit and do something else?"

I scoffed. "I'm not going to let them chase me away."

"Why not?" Pete said, "Is this your dream job? Do you see yourself advancing in this world? After all, you're only gonna be Valerie for a year or so. Why put up with shit you don't need to take? What are you really losing if you take the L here? Find an easier, less frustrating and sexist job. That's not letting them win, that's showing them you don't need to play."

I blew that advice off initially, but it was ringing in my ears the next time one of the guys tried to twerk on me during he lunch rush.

I went to the kitchen manager, and said, "Hey, I'm quitting."

He looked at me like an irritation, "Don't get your panties in a wad... I can talk to the guys if you want me to."

"No, no, don't bother," I sighed. "I know what it's like. Believe me. A few years ago I would have been up for it, and trust me, I could give as good as I got. But I'm tired, man. I'm older. These guys are having a lot of fun being young assholes, and they'll outgrow it eventually I hope, but it's not the right place for me anymore."

He raised an eyebrow. "Older? You're what, twenty-two?"

I shrugged, "Twenty-three," meaning really thirty-one, "But I've gotta grow up sometime. Thanks for giving me a shot."

I had mixed feelings about that decision. By this time it was early September, too late to get an ECE job if I had wanted one. I went home and crawled into bed next to Josh.

"Mmm... babe, 'zat you?" he muttered.

"Uh huh... shhh, just go back to sleep."

"Our deal..." he said dreamily, "Does that include hand stuff?"

I snickered, "Yeah, I think so."

"Aw, that's too bad," he whispered, eyes still closed, "...For you, I mean."

Cute smile.

I rolled over, and he did too to be the big spoon. "I'll manage."

"Yeah," he said, "I managed twice today. G' night."

More to come...
Ty/Val

Tyler/Valerie: Backburner

Three days, three calls to Valerie.

"So, this baby deal with Josh..."

"Ugh," she sighed, "You've got to stop calling. Anna's parents are starting to get concerned since our last calls put me in tears." Anna is her host-body. Sometimes I can get so caught up in trying to learn someone's life that I forget they're trying to learn someone else's.

For now, I say, we can text, but there really are some discussions that should be handled more urgently. I pressed for more info.

"Josh made it pretty clear from day 1 he wanted kids ASAP." she texted. "I would be happy to wait but... I doubt he would"

"That's so weird, you rarely hear about guys pressuring women into being parents."

"Don't be judgmental like that. He isn't pressuring me."

"Sorry, didn't mean to."

I added, "Obviously for a variety of reasons I don't think I should get pregnant in your body."

"Me neither. I'm sure you won't understand this as a man but I really do want to go through the whole experience."

She's right, why anyone would prefer taking that on themselves is a bit of a mystery to me, but so are women in general, and I've been one.

"This is the only thing Josh ever really put his foot down about," she said. "We fought off and on for weeks and he wouldn't propose until we agreed. I honestly don't know how you're going to get out of it."

A few options sprang to mind. Asking nicely. Lying. Being honest (about not being ready for kids, not about secretly being a man impersonating his fiancée.) But I had only just the day before convinced him to be celibate in the 3.5 months leading up to his wedding. Kind of a big ask, so I didn't feel ready for the next round.

Some things need to be nipped in the bud and this would seem to qualify, but under the circumstances I'm comfortable letting it go to the backburner. Unlike the sex issue, I'm not constantly going to have to fend it off for the next few months if I don't come up with a blanket solution. It only becomes a problem after the wedding. I still need to get through all that mess.

No more fires started for the rest of the week, so it was "Me-Time." My first real taste of post-Judith life without a crisis to handle. I gave it over to trying to grow accustomed to being Valerie... it had been a few days, but it still felt new.

I did a few loads of laundry, on the premise that I would feel less strange about wearing all these clothes once they were washed, and tired to pick out things I would like... I think Valerie prefers skirts because finding jeans and pants to fit her is hard; the first pair of jeans I put on, I had to keep pulling up because of her odd hip-shape caused them to slip. I also washed my hair and went about learning where things were in the kitchen, what they usually kept in stock, that sort of thing.

I was also due to meet up with Val's best friend and Maid of Honor, Marie, for spin class, and general friendship upkeep. I thought I would be called upon to act apologetic because Val mysteriously abandoned her for over a month, but Marie is a new mom and barely seems to have time for her friend either. That's win-win. Afterwards, we went for smoothies and she pumped me for info about the wedding planning, and I had to be evasive and say I wasn't ready to think about it right now.

PS, spin class... I'm not a fan.

Lastly was catching up with Pete. I've given Pete a password to this blog and it's up to him/her if he wants to talk about Brigette's life, but he's very keen on it, unable to wipe the grin off his pretty face while we chatted over coffee.

"It's just so... fascinating. I wake up in the morning absolutely excited to attack the challenges that await me," he gushed. I rolled my eyes.

We rode the subway, and talked in code, slightly, about what I was dealing with - with Josh, with the wedding, the celibacy vow and the baby promise. He offered a few words of encouragement, but admitted to not being too jealous of my situation. Then I sarcastically said "Really, I would think this is the kind of challenge you would relish." Instead of getting offended, he just let out a loud belly laugh and smiled, "Maybe you're right!"

It was around that time that I noticed the two guys across from us casting glances our way. I tried to ignore it but then I realized the reason. Pete was wearing a rather short dress, and slouched forward, "manspreading" on the subway. I can only imagine how good of a view the guys were getting.

I nudged Pete to correct his posture and he scrambled to do so, again laughing it off with characteristic casualness. "Enjoy the show?" he asked the two guys, who were probably a couple of years younger than our new selves. They seemed too embarrassed to reply and moved away.

I smacked him on the arm. "Okay, you have to be careful who you engage with."

"Oh, come on, they're harmless."

"Maybe, but someday they won't be."

Pete shrugged. "Whatever, that's life. You can let it define you, or you can define it."

Hm. Food for thought, I suppose. Pete has been through this roughly as many times as I have, maybe there's some validity to his outlook, but I'm not sure I share it...

As always, more to come.

-Tyler/Valerie

Tyler/Valerie: Hitting the Ground Running

I felt utterly drained by the time I got to New York. My mind raced. I was set to play-act as fiancée to a man I have never met, Josh Freeman. I spent the day leading up to it just staring into space.

Pete - characteristically as I have learned - was not helpful, looking at it from a rosy viewpoint, because it wasn't happening to him: "I bet you're really up to this challenge. This is advanced stuff. I mean, you've never really had to fake it before... you wrote your own ticket as Judith, and Alan... hell, even when you were Lauren it kind of seemed like you had leeway to do what you wanted. Imagine if this was your first transformation? Do you think he'll want sex? I can't imagine he doesn't. It's at least a little exciting, isn't it? Like, if you could step outside yourself and watch. I bet it'll make for a good blog."

Imagine that for the length a full-day trip down to NYC... we had gone by train and I was really regretting not springing for plane tickets.

I had made contact with Valerie to get her blessing about me living her life. I know none of us has a choice in all this but I wanted to do the honorable thing. I told her about the blog, and said that she could read up on my personal track record and keep tabs on what I was doing with her life. She said that she would look into my past, but that I should keep her up to date on my actions, so reading the blog would not be necessary in the future.

She and Josh had known each other since high school, began dating five years ago, and had been engaged since last summer. They struck me as sickeningly sweet - their text messages to each other littered with hearts and kisses. From everything I could tell, these are two people utterly, passionately in love with each other. When I called to him to apologize for staying in Maine so extra long, and that I would be home soon, he didn't just say "That's okay," but seemed very concerned for my safety and wellbeing - hell, he was downright apologetic, adding how much he looked forward to seeing me, which gave me a knot in my stomach. After years of, as Pete said, "writing my own ticket," I would have to pretend to be in love with someone, devoted to them, that I was the one who knew them best.

After everything I've been through, it seemed scary, but also borderline offensive. That I could just walk in there and take this woman's place, accept all the love that was meant for her.

"Is there any way we can postpone the wedding?" I asked Valerie.

"No," Valerie said sadly. "The hall is booked, the deposits paid, the invites out, the dress..."

I actually a bit about know how tough it is to plan an event like this thanks to my time as Judith, but I thought maybe there would be leeway.

I couldn't help but say, "But you're going to miss..."

"Don't you think I know that??" she snapped at me. "I don't get to walk down that aisle and stand next to the man I love, say my vows, cut the cake... throw the bouquet..." she was crying, I could hear.

"I'll be there, though," she said, composing herself. "Don't worry."

"Of course, of course... we'll say you're a... cousin or a work friend or something."

"Yes, yes," she said, probably tearing up again, "Oh God... I don't know if I can handle it... I just love him so much..."

"Hey, it's gonna be okay," I said, trying to sound as reassuring as possible, hiding the notes of doubt in my voice. "We'll get you through this."

Here we were, in a situation neither of us wanted to be in, trying to navigate it as best we could.

"I really appreciate your help, Tyler," she sniffled at the end of our call. "When this happened, when they told me there would be another person taking my life, I was afraid... I was so scared this was the end of my relationship."

I couldn't make any promises, but I wanted to be the best Valerie I could.

So by the time I got to Brooklyn, standing at the threshold of Val and Josh's apartment, dimly aware of what was waiting for me and the pressure of my new role, I shed all my selfish fears and insecurity, aware that I was doing all this for somebody else. that if I wasn't meant to have love in my life, I would do my best to help others.

The door opens.

A man has just risen from his place on the couch in anticipation, hearing the key in the lock.

I am vaguely aware he is tall, handsome, with good hair, somewhere between rugged and a pretty-boy in looks.

I will myself into Valerie's psyche, try to imagine how these two lovers must feel after going so long without seeing each other.

I must look like a mess in my shorts and tank top - hair in a ratty ponytail, face red and puffy from heat, sweating under my tits.

I drop my bag on the floor. He rushes over and take me in his arms. I let myself be taken instead of doing the sane thing and saying "I'm tired and I just want to go to bed."

He plants a deep, long passionate kiss on my lips, followed by several small ones, then holds me. I feel how small I am more than ever.

A few things are said, "I missed you, I was worried, I love you so much," that sort of thing - as if he could almost sense the kind of bind she's really in.

"It's okay, it's okay, I'm here now."

It was a whirlwind of emotion. But before things got too out of hand, I parted my lips from his.

"Not to wreck the moment, but I haven't eaten a thing."

A place is already set. It's a prime rib roast - a pretty good one, too.

He stares at me all lovey-dovey while I eat. He's obviously curious about where I've been and what really happened but he seems to respect my desire not to go over it.

I'm so hungry I probably make borderline sexual grunts while I eat. He's amused. I must be very cute.

I find it strangely easy to treat this guy like I already know him -- years of practice faking things. I ask him about his week, prepared with a few conversational prompts Val has offered me. He mentions a few names and I want to double back and clarify who did what but I worry that will reveal my secret somehow, so I nod along and make a point to ask Valerie later.

He's clearly very tuned into Val's emotions because he sees I'm worn out and, when I go to clear the plates, he insists I just head to bed. I was hoping to look in the kitchen and memorize where things are but that will have to wait. I do that in the bedroom instead. The bed is covered in pillows and neatly made. A woman definitely lives here.

I like a glass of water before bed - apparently this is weird because Josh asks, "Isn't that just going to make you have to pee?" I drink it anyway and he turns out to be right, as of 2:30 AM.

Strike two: I forego brushing my hair. ("Man, you must really be tired," he says, lying on the bed in his boxers shamelessly. I curse Val for not detailing every single quirk Josh is likely to note.)

Strike three: I was in a t-shirt that came down nearly to my knees, and a pair of shorts. "Won't you be hot?" he asks. And yes, under the comforter, in the stiff air of the apartment, I am, and the fabric is scratchy against my skin.

I'm reluctant to bare it all especially since I just "got" it, but why be modest? We're in the dark and he's seen it on Val. So what if it didn't used to be mine. (That sounds logical, but in practice, you try getting naked with a man you've only just an hour or so ago. It took a lot of hemming and hawing before I finally gave in and slept shirtless.)

I was frazzled - in all my years I've never been interrogated this way. I was halfway towards breaking down out of exhaustion and frustration right there and tried to tell him everything, but I was stopped.

He slipped into bed behind me and wrapped his arms around me.

"It's okay," he said softly. "Tomorrow will be better. I love you."

My heart sank. But I owed it to Valerie to represent.

As warmly as I could, I cooed, "I love you too, good night."

And so it began...