I yawned as I woke up and looked around in panic. It took me a minute to remember that I was at Gerard's apartment and not my own home. I looked at my phone and frowned softly. There were messages and social media notifications. People have been posting pictures of me at prom in my dress. I sniffled quietly and sat up.

The room was on the smaller side with just a bed, two nightstands on either side and a dresser across from the bed. On the dresser was again two pile of clothes and a small note.

Good morning! I went out to get some coffee because I'm a Starbucks addict. Help yourself to anything in the fridge and I'll bring home some muffins

There was a little smiley face at the end and I smiled. I looked and saw jeans and a hoodie in one pile and in the other was a pink sweater, white skirt, and a pair of white thigh high socks.

"Fuck," I muttered.

After debating internally I remembered what Gerard had said, this place was safe and I was free to express myself however I wanted. I put on the skirt outfit and smiled happily in the mirror.

I went out and looked around. I saw pictures of Gerard with some people I didn't recognize. One of them he was dressed completely in drag. There were books on a shelf, ranging all the way from Stephen King to Dr. Seuss. I picked up some of the vinyls and looked at them curiously. He had a wide variety of albums and I smiled when I saw some of my favorites.

The door opened and Gerard smiled. He set down to coffee cups and a bag with the Starbucks logo. He set his car keys down onto the counter and smiled as he walked over.

"Who's this?" I asked curiously, pointing to a picture frame.

"Oh, that's my brother Mikey," he said.

I looked at the picture of him and his brother smiling.

"Come on, I got you some coffee," he said.

I grabbed a muffin and drank my coffee quietly.

"Gerard, how will I know when I'm trans?" I asked. "I-I mean, when I'm trans. I don't know how this works really."

"Well, Frankie, how would you feel about being a girl?" He asked.

"I-I don't know," I mumbled. "This is all just so overwhelming and I don't even know what to think anymore."

"You don't have to decide everything right now," he said "you wanna head home?"

"Yeah," I said.

Gerard nodded and we finished before he cleaned everything up. I looked down at my outfit nervously, tugging down my skirt a bit.

"I-I can't wear this home," I said.

He took me to his closet and I gasped softly. Half of it were normal men's clothes and the other half was feminine, things he probably wore in drag.

"Wow," I mumbled, running my hand over a tight black dress.

"Try it on," he said.

I looked at him nervously before taking off my clothes, stripping to my boxers.

"Oh no, honey, you shouldn't wear boxers under these things," he said.

He looked in a drawer and handed me a pair of panties. He turned around and I put them on. They were light purple and cotton with white lace around the edges.

"How do those feel?" He asked when he turned around.

"Surprisingly comfortable," I said.

I smiled as I looked in the mirror. I liked seeing myself in these panties.he helped me into the dress and I gasped softly.

"You're such a beautiful girl," he said.

My eyes watered as I looked at him. My heart felt like it was going to burst and I smiled one of the first real, truly genuine smiles since my mom died.

"I'm a beautiful girl," I whispered.

I looked at the time and frowned.

"I should go," I said.

He nodded and put on a jacket.

"I can't wear this home, my dad would kill me," I said.

Gerard gave me some jeans and a hoodie.

"I put your shoes out by the door," he said.

I went and sighed sadly as I put on my converse. He came out with a paper grocery bag.

"Here's your dress, all clean and ready to hopefully be used again in the future," he said.

"I don't know," I mumbled. "Maybe all of his was just a mistake."

"You need a ride?" He asked.

"That's okay, my car isn't far," I said.

"Don't worry, Frankie, I promise that everything is gonna be okay," he said.

Gerard gave me a hug and I was frozen in shock for a moment. I hugged him tight, burying my face into the crook of his neck. I sniffled as I pulled away and walked out. My car wasn't parked far and I cried quietly as I drove home. I took a few deep breaths and made sure I looked okay before going inside.

"Hi, Dad," I said when I saw him sitting on the couch watching tv.

My dad ignored me and I knew he had seen the pictures.

"They were just photoshopped, dad," I defended weakly.

He ignored me and I went up to my room. I looked in the bag and pulled out the dress, hiding it in my closet. I frowned when I realized that wasn't the only thing in there. On top was a note.

You be you until you're happy! I know that you're gonna do great things with your life and one day you're gonna be happy and healthy and with whatever gender you decide feels best. Here's just a few things to get you started.

-Gerard <3

Under the note were panties, skirts, dresses, sweaters and some makeup. There was even a pair of nude high heels. I grinned as I pulled them out, holding each of them against my body in front of the mirror before I put them in my closet. I laid down on my bed and pulled out my phone again. Pictures of me were all over Instagram, Twitter and even Facebook. I was all over everyone's Snapchat stories.

Tomorrrow when I had to go back to school I was going to be the laughing stock of the whole place. But hey, maybe I'll finally give that one gay kid a break from being the punching bag.

I never really minded the guy kid the way everyone else seemed to hate him. His name's Patrick, we used to play together when we were younger. I think the thing I hated most was because they all hated him because he was gay. Or maybe it just scared me that I could be put into his situation. Because I always knew I was different and not just with my gender. There have been times where I've seen a guy and thought he was hot, I've stared at a guy's ass for a few seconds too long, I've even had images of guys in my mind while jerking off.

I never paid much attention to it, I just pushed it to the side and thought of girls instead. I dated girls and kissed girls and fucked girls. That's what I'm supposed to do, I'm a guy, I can't just date another guy. I think the term to place on me is bisexual, but then again my knowledge of the LGBT community is miniscule, about the same as my knowledge of Tom Hanks (I don't know anything about Tom Hanks).

I always had to push my feelings aside because I knew there would be grave consequences for acting on them. I would be a laughing stock. Everyone would hate me. Everyday at school I would walk in and there would be no smiles and happy greetings from friends, just daggers of states and hard shoves. My life would be empty, my life would be miserable. I knew i wasn't strong enough, I would kill myself.

There have been times within the past year that I almost tried again before I shook my head and took a nap instead. I had been doing a little bit better recently, probably just from the excitement of school being almost over. Because once it's over I'm free from the confines and maybe then I can be a bit more like myself. But I know I ruined everything by wearing the dress to prom.

That damned dress.

I wish I had never worn it. I wish I had never bought it. It is going to turn my life into a living hell. No one will understand. Everyone is gonna hate me. I'm gonna be beaten and mocked for the rest of eternity because of this.

I grabbed the dress from my closet, tears streaming down my cheeks as I did so. I grabbed scissors and began to angrily cut it up. I sobbed, red fabric falling over as it looked almost like blood.

"Stupid fucking dress," I muttered.

The scissors got stuck and I let out a defeated cry as I just dropped it all. I went to the bathroom, taking a few breaths and washing my face. I went back and saw the mangled mess of my beautiful, dark red dress on the floor. It was ripped up, far beyond repair.

I picked it up nervously and burst into tears again. I hugged the fabric, shaking my head.

"I'm sorry," I sobbed. "I-I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to!"

I sat here, apologizing to my dress. I set it down and sniffled as I sat on the bed, picking up the picture frame off the nightstand. It was of me and my mom when I was only five years old, I could see my pink painted nails and her pearls around my neck.

"Mommy, what do I do?" I whimpered. "I-I need you, Mommy."

This is something I've always done ever since my mom died and I was in distress, I always tried talking to her for help.

"I messed up and I keep messing up," I cried. "I never should've worn that stupid fucking dress to prom, everyone hates me now. My life is gonna be miserable. I-I wish you were still here, you always knew how to help me."

I sniffled as I curled up and fell asleep.