The Objectively Most Rational Decision

-- Day 103 --

It felt real, now.

Staring once again into the bathroom mirror, I wanted to see a girl looking back. I didn't want to see any remnant of who I used to be at all - not a single trace. Obviously, such an unrealistic notion did not hold up to the scrutiny of reality: clocky features abounded.

Things were different before, when I was just trying to trick Sean into liking me. I wasn't concerned about passing, really, because he was already aware that I was transitioning anyway. I didn't need to prove anything.

Well, now I did.

Sean had invited me to a Halloween party the other day, and now that day had arrived. I had never been to a party before - birthdays notwithstanding, I hadn't even had one attempted since I was ten, when it was realized that nobody would show up for them. It wasn't like anyone would invite me to theirs, either.

What were they like? Sure, I had seen movies, but I somehow doubted their ability to accurately depict reality. Surely, there wouldn't be any hard drugs being handed out like candy. Probably.

...What was I even supposed to wear? It was Halloween, so theoretically one would wear a costume. Or would they? Was that cringe?

I texted Sean for confirmation.

While waiting for his response, I scampered back to my bedroom, flopping into position facing up at my ceiling. Again. Even though I was turning myself into an entirely new person, I still felt like I engaged in the same routine every day. Could I ever really leave who I used to be behind, no matter how much I wanted to abandon all trace of that loser?

My phone lit up with a notification.

Sean replied that I did, indeed, need a costume. Or, at least, one was preferred. As I searched for the perfect GIF to send him to express my displeasure at having to go to a party in a costume, the answer for what to wear just so happened to fall in my lap.

Genius!

***
-- Day 107 --

It was too cold outside for this. Who would've thought that an oversized hoodie and thigh-highs did not constitute adequate mid-autumn clothing? Idiot. What was I thinking? Whatever - hopefully, wherever this party was going to take place would be warmer than out here.

I speed-walked the short distance between my apartment building and Sean's parked car.

"Hello, Sean," I smirked, sliding into the passenger seat next to my boyfriend. Boyfriend. This was the first time I had seen him since I made that decision to do whatever I wanted, and now this felt different too. In a good way.

Sean fucking Murphy was my boyfriend. Wow! What a world, genuinely. I wasn't gonna get mad at myself for the fact that this made me happy, though. Not anymore.

"Hey, Eris," he looked over at what I was wearing and raised an eyebrow, "Who are you supposed to be?"

Trying my very best to not let my face turn red in embarrassment, I replied, "I'm... y'know, I'm Menhera-chan!"

"Who?"

"Like, from the memes!" I opened my phone's album and scrolled through it to find a good example. As soon as I found one, I triumphantly presented the image on my screen.

He looked at it and chuckled, "Ohh, that girl from all the gifs you send me. Yeah, I guess I can see the resemblance."

I nodded, "Yup! You pronounce 'gif' wrong, by the way."

"Let's not get started on that," he laughed and started the car.

"So, I guess you're a... vampire, then?"

He grinned in what I could only assume was an attempt to look devious, "Fuhahaha... yes, indeed!"

I giggled and attempted a Romanian accent, "I vant to zuck your dick- blood, I mean blood!"

Sean guffawed, glancing over at me, "That's, uh, a bit forward-"

Oh my god, was there red in his cheeks? I wasn't sure if I'd ever flustered him like that before. I cleared up the reference, "Dude, it's a Tiktok. Heh. Shoulda seen your face."

"Well, I mean," he laughed, "If you're offering..."

I didn't know how to respond to that, and now it was my turn to blush. Damn it! How did he manage to turn it around on me?! My traitorous brain, of course, imagined the scenario. Quite vividly.

My blush grew a deeper shade of red.

***

I wasn't sure exactly what I was expecting when Sean had said it was a 'party'. I guess, really, I thought it was gonna be like in the movies - filled to the brim with people and overwhelmingly noisy.

While there was certainly music - albeit not as loud or energetic as I expected - and a decent crowd of people, there were no flashing lights and not a single person was dancing.

There was, however, a pair of women making out with each other on a couch nearby. Right there in plain sight of anyone.

My admittedly rude staring was interrupted by Sean bumping into me as he entered the building. "You doing alright, Eris?" he asked, looking down at me with his stupid, annoying smile.

"Uh, yeah," I mumbled, my stare now focused on his face. Indulgently, I wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned up for a long kiss on the lips. I mean, if those lesbians could do it, why couldn't I?

Every time I kissed Sean fucking Murphy, I was viscerally reminded of just how surreal my life had become in the past few months. I was dating my worst enemy - and liking it! I still felt some vestigial instinct to be disgusted at myself over this, but it was getting weaker with each kiss.

Rest in shit, Eric.

"What was that about?" Sean asked as I pulled away, the goofy grin on his face wider than before.

"Iunno. Felt like it?" I shrugged and attempted to smile coyly - I had been practicing my facial expressions in the mirror, so hopefully that helped.

In reply, he booped me on the nose. Dumbfounded, I stuttered for a response, "Th- Whu- B- Pthfth-"

"Yo, Sean!" called out the interruption to my embarrassment, "What's up, man?"

"Oh, hey Rick!" Sean said to the newcomer, giving him a fistbump. He was one of those tall, muscly jock types that I had always despised so much, "Jeez, dude, it's been ages. How've you been since..."

I tuned out their boring conversation about people I didn't know or care about. It was so unfair how many friends Sean had, how easily he could make them. Meanwhile, I struggled just to make one.

Crossing my arms in annoyance, I glanced around the room. Eric couldn't make friends, but perhaps Eris could. It probably wouldn't even be that difficult - I just needed a target.

The living room was beginning to overwhelm me with all the people and noises - two of the worst things in the world - so I retreated to the kitchen. It was quieter and less populous here, so there were less distractions from my goal: to make a friend.

It really shouldn't be that hard, now that I was almost a cute girl. People might look past my personality flaws since I wasn't butt ugly anymore.

Casting my gaze across the room, I spotted a lone girl drinking punch at the counter, clearly dressed as an anime character I recognized.

The costume looked really high quality, too - was it cosplay? Here?

I, of course, walked up to her. "You're Megumin," I declared.

"Huh?" she was clearly caught off guard.

I clarified, "The character you're cosplaying. Megumin, from KonoSuba."

"Oh, is that who this is?"

Huh? How did she not know? She was literally dressed up as the character! "What?" I incredulously asked, "You've seen the show, right?"

"Ah, no," she laughed, laughed, "I borrowed this from my roommate. She, like, makes this stuff for conventions and stuff, y'know?"

Stuff, stuff, stuff. Did she know any other words? I digress. This person seemed incredibly boring; I was hoping to meet someone else who liked anime. Instead, I got some normie! I scoffed, "How can you dress up as a character from a show you haven't watched? What?"

She shrugged, "Thought the fit was cute. Dunno. Y'know, you kinda remind me of her, are you autistic too?"

I replied with a blank look.

Holding her hand to her mouth, she apologized, "Sorry, was that rude? How are you supposed to say this stuff? Um, neurodivergent?"

God, what a stupid question. What was the impetus for it, even? Despite it all, women remained steadfastly incomprehensible.

Wasn't I supposed to be one, now? How long would I have to take these hormones before I'd gain some understanding of the minds of - dare I say it - other girls? Perhaps it would never happen. I struggled enough trying to understand guys; constantly constructing behavioural models of social interaction in my head that inevitably broke down when confronted by messy, complicated reality.

"Uhh, you're kinda staring,"

Why couldn't I get other people? What was the root of that chasm between myself and others? Was it there all along, or was it gradually eroded by some river of isolation? How could I ever get across it? I didn't want to be alone forever, but every interaction I ever had just reinforced the possibility that it was my destiny.

A finger tapped me on the shoulder - Sean fucking Murphy.

I spun around to face him, noticing that the normie I had been talking to before had vanished at some point in my rumination.

"There you are! Was a bit worried for a minute," he chuckled, but trailed off after seeing something - I wasn't sure what - in my face, "How're you holding up, Eris?"

"I'm fine?" I answered. What did he mean?

He rubbed the back of his head in that infuriatingly endearing way, "I know this is probably, uh, not your scene, but..." he paused to determine what to say, "I just, I dunno, I like doing things with you."

I squinted in bewilderment, "Why?"

Sean thought for a second before replying, "Um, y'know, it's just... you're fun to talk to, and so much happier than you were before. And a whole lot cuter," he chuckled at my reddening face, "And really easy to make blush. I love that for you, Eris. It's awesome!"

Coherent speech rendered unavailable, I resorted to wrapping my arms around Sean's neck in a tackle hug. He lifted me up by my hips, and I wrapped my legs around his waist as his fingers grasped my butt. God, how ripped must he be to carry me like this? Hot. Hot hot hot hot hot hot-

We quickly started making out. It was so fucking hot. I'd never felt so feminine before; I got hard immediately. Ew. Ew ew ew ew ew ew-

Could he feel it? I could certainly feel his. Regardless, it was ruining the moment. I tried shifting to a position where it wouldn't press against him - critical failure. We toppled to the kitchen floor, still tangled together.

Laying there, splayed on a cold floor with Sean fucking Murphy's full weight on top of me, reminded me of the last time we were in this position: when I tried to stab him. That casual experience that I'm sure all of us have had. Fuck. What was I thinking? What was I even thinking now, trying to date him? What was I doing here?

"Oh yeah!" Sean lit up, "I forgot what I was gonna say. They're playing Catan in the rec room. Wanna join?"

Sean knew Catan? It seemed a bit too nerdy. Then again, my preconceptions were readily subverted by him. I was so surprised by the question that it knocked me out of my spiraling.

"Uh, yeah, okay," I shrugged.

***

"But this trade is objectively beneficial to you! It's stupid not to take it!" I whined.

I was losing. The whims of luck had not treated me kindly with the dice rolls, and my attempts at expanding were cut off at every opportunity. In a last ditch effort to win, I needed to pull a development card, but I didn't have all the resources I needed. Hence a suboptimal trade offer... which was declined.

"Says who?" the guy I offered the trade to rolled his eyes. He seemed annoyed with me, for some reason.

"Uh, math?"

"Well, I don't care. I'm keeping my sheep!"

"Why would you-" my exasperated query was cut off my Sean's arm wrapping around my shoulder, his thumb rubbing in circular motions around my scapula.

"You can have my sheep, babe." Sean murmured, handing me a livestock card. I wanted to reject his charity - I'd rather win on my own merit - but that word, 'babe', short-circuited my brain. That word was so... so... I didn't know how to describe it, but it definitely couldn't apply to me.

I quietly grabbed it, and paid for a development card. It wasn't the one I needed. My defeat was a foregone conclusion.

My habitual competitiveness when it came to games like these would typically have reared its angry head at this point, but Sean increased the pressure of his thumb, digging into my shoulder in the most exquisite way.

I squeaked.

***
-- Day 108 --

Sean's apartment looked the same as it did the last time I'd visited, mess in the kitchen and all. None of that mattered to me, though, because I was too busy imagining what he would look like with his clothes off. Sure, I'd snuck a few too many peeks back in high school, but I'd never gotten, uh, the full picture.

As soon as he shut the door behind us, I asked the question that had been burning a hole in my brain since he asked if I wanted to go back to his place. That question carried an... implication, right? I hadn't just imagined it, right?

"So are we- um, are we- will we- the, uh, the sex-"

Nice job, Eris. Very articulate. Fuck - if that's what we were doing, anyway.

"Well, like, if you want," Sean chuckled nervously.

I tried, vainly, to stop my brain from overthinking the situation, but, holy shit, we were actually gonna do it. I was gonna lose my virginity! As the girl getting fucked! By Sean fucking Murphy! In what universe?!

Wait a second. I began to panic a little as I thought further as to what this would entail, "We can't do- y'know- I haven't prepared!" I at least knew that much about how anal worked.

"Oh! Nah, we can do other stuff. Whatever you're, like, comfortable with."

Okay, so no butt stuff. Did that mean...

My face turned red just imagining it. Maybe it'd be best not to psyche myself out about it, and just take things as they, ahem, come. I leaned in and started making out with Sean again. Our lips remained lock as we navigated towards his bedroom, and even as I nearly tripped on his - thankfully vacant - roommate's channeling candles.

He tossed me onto his bed, and I squirmed. Holy fuck. Oh my God. We were seriously, actually, genuinely gonna have sex! It still didn't feel real. Maybe it never would; perhaps years of unsuccessfully suppressed fantasies had conditioned me to believe this could never happen.

Sean landed on the bed after me, his arms pinning mine on both sides.

"Hey," I giddily grinned and giggled at the absurdity of the situation.

Leaning in close enough that I could feel his breath (I had popped a mint in the car, so I wasn't worried about mine), he smirked, "Hey, yourself."

"I can't believe this is real," I whispered.

"Yeah?" his hand dragged from my arm to my chest. His thumb, rubbing in circles, teased my swollen nipple through the fabric of my hoodie, "Does this feel real?"

I wordlessly nodded. Those three and a half months of estrogen were clearly worth it for the acute sensitivity now present in my budding breasts. It was bizarre, unbelievable, and undeniable: this was fucking happening! Hell yes!

Looking to reciprocate, I reached down to stroke the bulge in his crotch. It twitched in reply, and I marveled at my ability to induce such a reaction in another human being.

Suddenly, Sean flipped me over, him laying on his back while I straddled him. God, he was so much more masculine than I ever was. So much more deserving of the title of 'man'.

I wanted him to fuck the boy right out of me, and make me his girl.

My hoodie and his jeans found their way to the floor, and I couldn't decide whether I should pull my bra off or his boxers down first. Bra first, definitely - save the best for last.

His gaze burned into me, and I fidgeted underneath it. My breasts weren't that big yet, just puffy nipples with a bit of fat behind them. Did he hate them? Would he realize how gross my body was?

"You're beautiful," his eyes were soft and genuine as he spoke. I could have melted right then and there.

I needed to suck his cock.

As soon as I pulled the waistband down, his dick sprung forth, like it was waiting for me. It was bigger than mine - not by much, at least lengthwise, but it was substantially girthier.

Could I really put that in my mouth? Sean fucking Murphy's fucking dick? It was the ultimate symbol of submission for a male, to willingly suck another male's penis. It was total humiliation, the complete capitulation of one's masculinity.

The idea really fucking turned me on.

I leaned in closer - it was uncircumcised, the head straining past the foreskin. It was hardly worth hanging onto the few shreds of masculinity I had left, though. Logically, it would be better for me to cast off the remnants of Eric as soon as I could, and let Eris finally emerge from her chrysalis fully formed. All by allowing myself to submit completely, to be made a woman.

Not humiliation; liberation.

Close enough to taste it now, I had to do this: make the conscious, active decision. Sean was the perfect subject for me to surrender to, to subjugate myself beneath, to allow to objectify me. How many times had I dreamed of this? Jerking off countless times in my bedroom to unwitting - for either party - fantasies of his image, and all through those years he never knew of my perversion.

I didn't deserve him. Obviously. I was reminded, again, of that time I tried to murder him. Yet here I was playing girlfriend. He had no idea what I was really like; I'd been lying to him for the entirety of our relationship. I wasn't even trying to fall for him, damn it! This entire romance was founded on my own delusional perfidy.

Fuck, it was all bubbling up. My insecurity, My bullshit, my inability to truly change in any meaningful way. I wasn't a woman, what a fucking joke: I was a child.

He had to know, if only to clear my conscience of the rot that infests my brain.

"I can't do this," I blurted, snapping his dick back into his underwear.

"Huh?" Sean looked so confused. Poor thing.

"I'm a liar. A fucking piece of shit liar," the words fell out faster as I spoke, unbeholden to my will, "I'm not trans. I'm not really a girl. I'm not any better than I was in high school. I'm the same perverted fucking loser! I just thought I could- I could escape the little shit I am. I'm pathetic, dude. I tried being a girl just 'cause I was so fucking bad at being a guy, but I'm really just bad at being a person."

By the time I ran out of breath, I wanted to scream. Everything was being ruined. As it should be. I didn't deserve this happiness. I hadn't earned it!

Sean, despite it all, looked at me kindly, with only sympathy in his eyes, "I'm- I'm so sorry. I didn't know there was all that going-"

God damn it! He was supposed to hate me!

I snatched his wrists in a vice-grip and leaned in, seething, "I never liked you. You're pathetic too, you know, dating loser assholes 'cause it boosts your ego whenever they start acting all nice. You fucking narcissist."

Tirade over, and bridge hopefully burned to the ground, I leaped off the bed and haphazardly pulled on my clothes. I nearly tripped on a candle (Sean's roommate was a total weirdo).

"Er- Eris, wait-"

Hate me! Fucking hate me, you idiot! Despise me! I snarled, facing him one last time, "Fag!Fag! Fagfagfagfagfag-"

I repeated the slur as many times as I could, as I needed to, until he was sufficiently hurt. Maybe it'd scar. His expression in that instant, when I unleashed all my worst impulses on him, burned permanently into my mind. I slammed the door behind me, and let out a deep shuddering breath. Fuck. Why did I do that?

Through the door, I heard a loud thud, then a muffled "Shit! Fuck..."

Part of me wanted to apologize, to go right back in there and prostrate myself before him, beg for forgiveness. I knew he wouldn't accept it, not after that complete meltdown. It was too late to second guess myself. Fine by me.

A bitter relief.